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including her work. After settling in alone at her apartment that first day, Marcela had called the senior partner in the firm, Ronald Benoit, getting him at two o’clock just as he returned from lunch; and after describing her injuries, she explained that she needed more time off.
    “…That’s right, Ron.”
    There was a brief pause. “Well, of course, Marcela, take enough time to gather yourself. I understand. Why don’t you call back in a…oh, a month.”
    Marcela smiled to herself. She knew that Ron was surprised by the request, because the expected thing, the company thing, would be to come right back to work after a day or two. Best to get right back on the horse , as the associates would say. Forget the unpleasantness. The macho thing. Of course all the associates were male, and as far as she knew none of them had ever been mugged, raped, or beaten. But, with the present state of her mind, Marcela didn’t really care what Ronald Benoit or any of the associates thought.
    “I knew you’d understand, Ron,” she said, in her sweetest voice, and added silently, you insensitive bastard . “Who knows, I might even take a little trip, get away from this heat wave.”
    “Now, that sounds good,” the senior partner agreed. “You do that. And take care. Just give me a call when you’re ready to come back.”
    “Bye, Ron,” she said, hoping she screened the finality of tone. Right now Marcela didn’t care about the firm at all. She felt like she would probably never go back. And it was an uplifting feeling, bringing her a sense of freedom. But who knows what I’ll feel a month from now? she advised herself sagely, settling the phone in the receiver, justifying the hedging call to the boss. Maybe she should take a trip. Might not be a bad idea, the perfect way to put her troubled and unhappy past life behind her once and for all and make a fresh start.
    A new beginning sounded wonderful, but at the moment all she cared about was getting some much needed sleep. Marcela’s 24-hour cycle had suddenly changed in the hospital. She wanted to sleep through the day, only feeling alert after dark. Strange, she’d thought, when she’d recognized the sleep cycle shift was permanent, even after leaving the hospital. Perhaps it’s all a part of some kind of mystical transformation, along with the attitude change, she told herself, half-jokingly, as she climbed into bed.
     
    ***
     
    Running… her sleek body a blur in the night as she sprints toward an unusually strong scent that is tantalizing her senses. She follows it, head moving back and forth, sniffing constantly, the slight breeze blowing inland from the ocean guiding her closer and closer, urging her onward. She’s not sure what it is yet, or where it’s coming from, but her nipples harden and her mouth starts to salivate, anticipating the inevitable encounter.
    Breaking through a row of low bushes, knowing she’s getting close now but she pulls up short, skidding to a complete stop, startled to see a black woman standing directly in her path. She recognizes her immediately, as the local Costa Rican woman who sold her the silver ball pendant. The large woman is dressed in layers of sheet, a rainbow of bright colors wrapped around her considerable girth. Her gray hair is braided in many rows using hundreds of hand carved beads.
    The black woman raises her hands and smiles. “Peace, my child. Relax and come to me. Come to Semma.”
    And then the strange woman is gone: a silent explosion of swirling light sucked up and swallowed by the canopy of moisture-swollen clouds handing in the dark sky above.
     
    ***
     
    After four days and nights in the apartment, Marcela realized she was feeling bored, restless. The vivid dreams that she’d been experiencing since her rape kept recurring: She was always moving quickly through the Costa Rican rainforest, searching for something. She was searching alone, a solitary hunter. Moving quickly through the undergrowth,