Vain Deception

The crowd was whipped up in a frenzy as the Matador pulled the cape away as the bull charged by. He looked magnificent, light blue shirt, vest and pants with gold trim. “Ole, Ole” was the chant as the bull circled around for another run. Blood ran down its back and side from the two lances stuck in it. The Matador raised his sword for the kill behind the cape as the bull stopped and lowered its head for the next pass. “ Oh, Erica. This is so exciting.” Marlene exclaimed as she stood up. Her skin was flushed with excitement. I couldn’t look. I lowered my head. One bull had been killed and one horse had been gored. “No Marlene, this is just ritualistic killing. I hate it.” I replied sadly. Then I heard a roar from the crowd and heard trumpets blaring. I looked up, the sword was driven behind the bulls neck, it went to its knees and fell over dead. “Ole Hernando, Viva Hernando.” Marlene cried out clapping her hands. She leaned over the rail in her low cut black dress. Hernando, the top Matador in Madrid bowed as roses were thrown at him from the crowd. Every woman wanted him. He was handsome, the tight costume accentuating his perfect body. I couldn’t help myself. I like all the women in the arena wondered what it would be like to be in his arms. “What I wouldn’t give to spend a night with him.” Marlene commented as she waved her arms trying to get his attention. I just sat back. “Marlene we’re supposed to be keeping a low profile, remember?” I reminded her. “You worry too much Erica. No one knows we’re here and I don’t think they’ll send anyone after us. They are too busy tracking down the ones in Germany. I brought you here for your birthday, live a little.” She advised. I got up to leave and smoothed the brown dress I was wearing out. Marlene put her hands on my shoulder and straightened my collar. “I’m a little jealous.” Marlene said. “I see the way men look at you. You need to stop dressing like a prude. Any single man in Madrid, well you could have your pick of them.” “You don’t seem to have any trouble. Your bed is seldom slept in.” I retorted. She smiled. “Look, I’m 43. I’m not getting any younger. I have to “play the field.” I will snag a rich one sooner or later.” “Let’s go. I’ve seen enough blood for one day.” I said as we started walking out of the arena. “But I do worry about you Erica. Can I trust you? Which one are you? Are you the naïve good girl who tried to stop my research? Or the ruthless killer who slaughtered a man in a London flat?” Marlene wondered out loud. “Quiet Marlene someone will hear.” I cautioned. Marlene laughed. “We are safe here. If anyone does understand German, they were on our side during the civil war here. You worry too much.” Then she got a serious look on her face. “I know which one you are. You were hardened just like I was. When the time comes you can be just as merciless and cruel as I am. You proved it.” “I’m nothing like you Marlene. I hate what we were a part of. I learned my lesson.” Again she smiled. “So you say Erica. So you say.” We walked toward the shop in silence. In four months time we had been forced to co-exist. Sometimes we got along so good it was scary. But in the back of my mind I knew who she was, the brutal camp commandant who became visibly excited anytime violence was used. One who lived to dominate and inflict pain on others. She was the same as when I first met her, an insane sadist. “Anyway, happy birthday Erica. I take you out for lunch and some afternoon entertainment and you don’t seem thankful.” She said mockingly. “Thank you Marlene.” I replied regretfully. We continued walking in silence.