A pang of jealousy pings my gut. Who is my girl making kissy faces at? Who is the person behind the camera? A coworker? An ex-boyfriend?
A whining and scratching sound jostles me from my thoughts. I rise from the table and softly stride over to the bedroom door. I slowly open it, careful not to wake Val as Max bolts from the room. He circles my legs twice and then runs over to the front door.
Val must've forgotten to let him out before bedtime. Opening the door, I flick on the floodlights as he trots outside, disappearing into the night.
I don't know why she insists on keeping him in the house. He's a watchdog; he belongs outside guarding the house. I don't want that smelly mutt in our bed. Scratch that, my bed. I paid for it.
I call the shots around here. I make the rules. But Val sometimes seems to forget. She needs to be reminded of the pecking order. She will need to become more submissive if she’s going to be with a man like me. She will need to learn her place in the world—my world.
I log out of the website and close the laptop. Shuffling over to the front door, I open it and give a low whistle, calling Max back inside. From the corner of my eye, I see something move between the trees. A blurred figure passes through the ray of light.
“Max, is that you,” I say, trying to keep my voice down.
Slipping my feet into my jungle Mocs, I close the door behind me and head down the walkway. The clopping of my shoes hitting the ground mixes with the chirping of crickets and the low hum of insects.
“Max, where are you?” I call out again a bit louder this time.
I stop and do a three-sixty, scanning the back yard. There is no sign of him. He must be off on an adventure and will come home when he tires of hunting.
As I trod along the path, I catch a glimpse of a dark shape appearing and disappearing in a flash.
I tell myself it's not real that I'm seeing things. Perhaps there's a stray tree branch dangling in front of the floodlights causing a shadow. Surely, if someone was out here, Max would've picked up on the scent.
I call out for Max one last time and then make my way back toward the house. When I arrive at the door, I glance up at the two floodlights. No tree limbs are hanging near them. Nothing is blocking them. The only thing near the lights is the security camera, which I still need to hook up. I need to stay on top of things this time around—no more mistakes.
Off in the distance, the grunting of howler monkeys echoes through the air, their sounds sending chills up my spine. My ex was terrified of them. The first time she heard them roar, she nearly jumped out of her skin. She said the sounds of the jungle would haunt her dreams.
I pause for a moment, wondering if she's here, wondering if she’s haunting me while I'm awake.
23
Valerie
I was angry to find Max outside when I woke up the next morning. He was crying at the front door, visibly shaken and covered in mud. Once again, David was nowhere to be found. He didn't leave me a note; there was no message waiting for me. With each passing day, he seemed to become more distant.
After feeding Max and giving him a quick bath, I made myself some extra strong coffee. I hoped to combat the awful headache that was pounding in my skull. The tea from the night before had given me a horrible stomach ache soon after I drank it. And then the dream I had. One word describes it, bizarre. I could only imagine what was in Conchita’s home-brewed potion.
With my mug in hand, I headed outside to the deck, Max at my heels, trailing behind me. The jungle was alive with a symphony of sounds, the scent of fresh rain filling the air. A variety of birdsong and distant humming entwined with the lush foliage and giant ferns. Towering trees with their moss-covered trunks and limbs reached high into the sky. At that moment, everything felt magical.
Taking a sip of coffee, I admired the great beauty and peacefulness that surround me. Max barked at two green parrots that flew by and landed on a branch in front of me. With their heads twitching, they began chattering and studying me. I wondered what they were talking about and curious if they understood Spanish.
Most days, David would set a variety of fruit on the deck for them. They usually came by each morning to eat breakfast. I didn't see any remnants of banana peels or half-eaten papaya, so he must've forgotten their breakfast.
As the parrots took flight, Max went running after them. After five full gallops, he stopped in his tracks dangerously close to the edge of the deck. Crouched down, he remained there, panting and peering below. I quickly grabbed hold of his collar and guided him down to the yard to his run. As much as I hated tying him up, he seemed safer when secured.
When I returned to the kitchen for a second cup of coffee, Max began barking again. Peeking out the window over the sink, I saw Conchita standing there in a bright orange dress holding a small bag. I unlocked and opened the door.
“Good morning,” I said, stepping aside to let her into the house.
“Buenos días,” she spoke softly.
“Please come in,” I motioned.
“Gracias,” she nodded her head. Holding her bag tightly, she stepped over the threshold.
“¿Café?” I asked, pointing to the coffee pot on
