Tales of the Mantequero

Chapter 7

The next morning, when she woke up, he had gone.

She lay in the aftermath of bliss, reliving the memory and relishing it. She knew she would never see him again, of course. It was a one-off, never to be repeated experience. And how she had loved it. She felt exhausted, fulfilled and husked-out, lighter somehow. She rolled over and went back to sleep. She didn't have to get up. She was on holiday.

When she finally did get up, in the late afternoon, and drifted off to get a shower, she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror as she went past and thought, I actually LOOK lighter. Must be the heat and the continental diet, and maybe the unwonted exercise of last night. With a blissful sigh, she stepped into the shower stall.

Later, she decided to go for a walk to the same spot. She strolled along the goat-tracks until she got to the place where she had been the previous day. There she sat in a reverie and waited for the sun to go down.

He appeared at dusk, just as he had the previous day, and said, "Hello, Beautiful."

As he bowed, his leather bag slipped off his shoulder and he caught it skilfully as he straightened up.

Without a word, she proffered her arm and they walked slowly back down the mountain to the village, gazing into each other's eyes as they went.

A dream, she thought. It's all a dream. I shall wake up in the morning and none of this will have happened.

~ * ~

The next day she slept till early evening and woke exhausted, but ecstatic. She scarcely glanced at herself as she passed the mirror and so did not notice how much thinner she had become.

He came to her the next night and the night after and she lost track of the days, only aware of how happy she was in this extraordinary new relationship. She never spoke to him, just lay and received his attentions and listened to his words of love...Beautiful, SO beautiful...

~ * ~

One afternoon she woke up ravenous and realised she had hardly eaten anything for days. Everything in the fridge was several days old and none of it looked very appetizing. She went to get dressed to go to the shop and this time she did notice how much thinner she had become. Her clothes hung loosely on her. She looked down and saw her feet. She hadn't seen her feet for years. Dear God, she thought, I look like I've been on a VERY radical diet. She examined herself more closely. Her skin looked crêpey and hung in loose folds. She drew back from the mirror, shocked. High time I ate something, she thought.

~ * ~

Ana-María, the shopkeeper, was bending down behind the counter as June entered the shop. She stood up, her hands at the small of her back, and gave a little sigh, then turned to see who had come in. For a moment she had no idea who this strange woman was. She looked a little like the Englishwoman who had come in every day for a week but, now she thought of it, had not been in for some time. Could it be? This woman seemed so much thinner.

"Señora?"she said. "Is that you?

June smiled at her. "Indeed it is, Ana-María. Have you any bread left?"

"But, Señora, you have lost so much weight. Are you ill?"

"Not at all,"said June. "I have never felt better in my life."

"But, Señora, it is not good to lose so much weight. In the olden days we would have said you had been visited by the Mantequero."

June frowned slightly. She had never heard the word before.

"The Mantequero,"Ana-María went on, "the Sacamantecas, the one who carries the bag."

June was reminded suddenly of the leather bag Ignacio always carried.

"He comes at sunset,"said Ana-María, "and he sucks the fat from your bones and puts it in his bag."Then, seeing the look of alarm on June's face, she added hurriedly, "But it is just a story, Señora. A fairy tale to frighten children. And anyway,"she went on, "he cannot come to you unless you invite him in."

She remembered how delighted Ignacio had been when she invited him in...and how surprised.

~ * ~

Later, she stood naked in front of the mirror and examined herself dispassionately. Virtually all the surplus flesh she had carried with her all these years had vanished. She was slim, almost thin, and, if it weren't for the wrinkling of her skin, she would have said she looked better than she ever had in her life. Maybe the wrinkles will smooth out in time, she thought. People in England would pay a fortune for this kind of treatment. Then, with a wry smile, It gives liposuction a whole new meaning.

But what was she to do? Did she really believe Ignacio was a Mantequero? Really? In this day and age? Deep down inside, in the part of her that didn't deal with logic, but with an older knowledge, she did. When he came tonight she should revoke her invitation. But, oh... how she longed for him!

~ * ~

On Saturday morning Josefina, who came in to do the cleaning, opened the door of the little house. She wrinkled her lip in displeasure. The Señora had left the place untidy. She looked at the clothes on the floor. She had not taken all her things either. With a sniff, Josefina went into the kitchen. An enormous meal stood on the table, roast chicken with potatoes. It must have stood several days. The flies had got at it, and it was beginning to smell bad.

Now feeling somewhat alarmed, she went into the bedroom. There was something on the bed. It looked like a pile of greyish-pink rags, but when she approached, she realised it was a person. Or what had once been a person. A skeleton draped in folds and folds of loose skin.

With the back of her hand pressed hard against her lips, she moved forward to take a closer look. There was a face staring out of the folds of wrinkled flesh. God knows what terrible thing had happened to the Señora, but her face...

On her face was the most beautiful smile.