Read Meet Me Under The Ombu Tree for Free Online

he watched Sofia drawing on the bark. He had grown up with her and had always considered her to be another sister, along with Maria. Fernando wouldn’t agree; he had always found Sofia trying at the best of times. Her face was fixed into an expression of intense concentration. She had beautiful skin, Santi decided. It was smooth and brown like Encarnacion’s milk chocolate mousse. Her profile revealed a certain arrogance, perhaps it was the way her nose turned up at the end, or was it in the strength of her chin? He liked her character; she was defiant and difficult. Her almond-shaped brown eyes could change from soft to imperious in a blink, and when she was angry they darkened from chestnut to a rich red-brown colour he had never seen in anyone else’s eyes. No one could say she was a pushover. He admired that quality; she had a charisma that drew people to her even though sometimes they burnt their toes on her coals when they got too close. He enjoyed watching them burn from his unique position of special status. He was always there to run back to when her friendships went awry.
    After a while Sofia sat back and smiled proudly at her work of art.
    ‘Well, what is it then?’ asked Maria, leaning into the tree to see better.
    ‘Can’t you tell?’ replied Sofia indignantly.
    ‘I’m sorry, Sofia, but no,’ she replied.
    ‘It’s a love heart.’ She caught Maria’s eye, who frowned back enquiringly.
    ‘Oh?’
    ‘Bit of a cliche, isn’t it? Who’s the lucky guy?’ asked Santi who had flopped back onto his branch and was dangling his arms and legs in the air lethargically.
    ‘Not telling, I’m wishing,’ she replied, lowering her eyes coyly.
    Sofia rarely blushed, but in the last few months she had begun to feel differently about her cousin. When he looked into her eyes in that intense way, her face coloured and her heart hopped about like a cricket for no apparent reason.
    She admired him, looked up to him, adored him. Oddly her face had taken to blushing. It had nothing to do with her, she hadn’t been consulted, it just happened. When she complained to Soledad that her face turned red when she talked to boys, her maid laughed and said it was all part of growing up. Sofia hoped she’d grow out of it just as quickly. She reflected on these new feelings with curiosity and exhilaration, but Santi was miles away, exhaling smoke like a Red Indian. Maria took the knife and carved a small sun.
    ‘May I be blessed with a long, happy life,’ she said.
    ‘That’s a bit of an odd thing to wish for,’ scoffed Sofia, screwing up her nose.
    ‘You must never take anything for granted, Sofia,’ said Maria seriously.
    ‘Oh God, you’ve been listening to my raving mother. Are you going to kiss your crucifix now?’ Maria laughed as Sofia pulled her face into an expression of piety and crossed herself irreverently.
    ‘Aren’t you going to wish, Santi? Go on, it’s tradition!’ she insisted.
    ‘No, it’s girl’s stuff,’ he replied.
    ‘Please yourself,’ said Sofia, throwing herself back against the trunk. ‘Mmm. Can you smell the eucalyptus?’ A satin breeze brushed softly over her hot cheeks, carrying with it the unmistakable medicinal scent of eucalyptus. ‘You know, of all the smells in the campo, this is the one I love best. If I were lost at sea and smelt this smell I would cry for home.’ And she sighed melodramatically.
    Santi inhaled deeply, blowing the smoke out of his mouth in rings.
    ‘I agree, it always reminds me of summer.’
    ‘I can’t smell eucalyptus. The only scent coming my way is Santi’s Marlboro,’ complained Maria, waving her hand in the air.
    ‘ Bueno , don’t sit downwind then,’ he retorted.
    ‘No, Santi, don’t you sit upwind from me!’
    ‘Mujeres!’ he sighed, his sandy blond hair falling about his head like one of those mysterious auras that La Vieja Bruja raved on about in the village. Apparently everyone had one, everyone except the very wicked. The three