Depictions of the encomienda system in the new world:
Clockwise: (1) Natives working for a conquistador; (2)
A Catholic priest giving Christianity to the natives. (3)
Cruelty by a conquistador to his native worker.
ENCOMIENDA
Chapter 3
After lunch I returned to the office and found a reply from janicep waiting in my inbox. It read, “Mr. Jaspers, I’m sorry to hear about the boys. The girls were hoping they’d make it up here. I’m Rhonda Jaro’s mother. She used my email while she and Melissa were here. I’ll call them tonight and let them know what happened. How do I know you’re legit? Can you fax me some ID at the following number?”
Rhonda had a cautious mother. That was a good thing. I copied my P.I. license on some letterhead paper and faxed it to the number she gave.
Then I gave Caridad Paulie’s letter. “I think this is from his father. Would you write a very tactful letter to let him know that his son is missing and that we’re trying to find him. In Spanish.”
About a half an hour later the office phone rang. Caridad buzzed me. “Buck, a Mrs. Jaro on the line for you.”
“Good. Thanks, Caridad.” I picked up the receiver, “Buck Jaspers speaking.”
“Ok, I guess you’re legit.” Her voice was raspy as if she was or had been a long-time cigarette smoker. “I’m very careful when it comes to my baby girl.”
“Is she your only child?”
“No, I’ve also got three hulking boys – or men, I should say – but she’s the baby.”
“Why’d you send her to school in Miami?”
“That was her idea. Her father died a few years ago and left us a house free and clear and a couple surprise insurance policies. So, I told her she was going to college anywhere she liked. She liked Miami.”
“Is she a good student?”
“Well, she’s smart enough, but I’m not sure how focused she is on her classes. She got all Bs last semester. I hear Miami’s a pretty crazy place.”
“Its reputation far exceeds the reality. The media make it seem a lot crazier than it is.” It was a bit of a lie, but I knew her mind needed easing. “Anyway, who is Melissa, a classmate?”
“Right. Melissa’s from Bradenton, so the two hit it off ‘cause they had the hometown in common.”
“Mrs. Jaro, I really appreciate your calling me. I would like to talk to the girls. Is that possible?”
“I guess so. Let me give you Rhonda’s number. You call her and she can decide whether to talk to you or not. Give me a half hour to talk to her first.”
I drank some water, got a road atlas off my shelf. On a tabloid-size sheet of paper, I photocopied the page with the map of South Florida from Tampa to Miami. With a light blue highlighter, I traced the route that we knew so far. South Bay Apartments to the Palmetto Expressway to Calle Ocho to the Tamiami Trail. At the juncture of the Trail, I wrote with a blue pen early morning, buys gas. Then I highlighted the Trail all the way to the turnoff on Highway 29 to Everglades City. Below Everglades City, I wrote stops for lunch at the Everglades Inn. Such visual devices are important to me; they help me focus.
Then I told Caridad to cut a check for Vlad for one day’s work. I know it was only half a day, but that’s because the students’ computers were easier to get into than we had expected. The process could’ve taken much longer, and what if he’d gotten a call for other work while he was doing my bidding? Besides, if I pay him fully, he’ll come the next time I call: free-market reciprocity. Ben would’ve approved.
I looked up encomienda in Webster’s dictionary. It wasn’t there. I looked it up in a Spanish dictionary. The definition wasn’t very helpful: "In colonial America, a commission from the King to a conquistador." I went on the Internet to Bartleby.com. An explanation from the Columbia Encyclopedia read:
A system of tributory labor established in Spanish America. Developed as a means of securing an adequate and cheap labor supply, the encomienda was first used over the conquered Moors of Spain. Transplanted to the New World, it gave the conquistador control over the native populations by requiring them to pay tribute from their lands, which were “granted” to deserving subjects of the Spanish crown. The natives often rendered personal services as well. In return the grantee was theoretically obligated to protect his wards, to instruct them in the Christian faith, and to defend their right to use the land for their own subsistence. When first applied in the West Indies, this labor system wrought such hardship that the population was soon decimated. This resulted in efforts by the Spanish king and the Dominican order to suppress encomiendas, but the need of the conquerors to reward their supporters led to de facto recognition of the practice. The crown prevented the encomienda from becoming hereditary, and with the New Laws (1542) promulgated by Las Casas, the system gradually died out, to be replaced by the repartimiento and finally debt peonage. Similar systems of land and labor apportionment were adopted by other colonial powers, notably the Portuguese, the Dutch, and the French.
I printed the explanation, made a copy and added it to the file. I left the other copy on my desk.
Then I dialed Rhonda Jaro’s number. A young female voice answered. “Hello.”
“Rhonda Jaro?”
“Yes. Who’s this?”
“My name is Buck Jaspers. I’m a private investigator.”
“Yes, Mama said you’d call.”
“If it’s possible, I’d like to talk to you and your friend Melissa together.”
“We’re not allowed to have male guests in the dorm.”
At that point I remembered what college was like for most students – bland cafeteria food, no private transportation. “I tell you what, I’ll buy you and Melissa dinner tonight. We can talk then. What do you say?”
“Well, where would you take us?” She was probably thinking fast food.
“It’d have to be someplace quiet, so we could talk. Do you like Italian food?”
“Sure.”
“Ok. How ‘bout the Flamingo on Biscayne?”
“Sounds good.”
“Six o’clock?”
“Ok.”
“Is your dorm close to the Metrorail station?”
“Not too far.”
“Ok, I’ll pick you up there.”
“Wait. How will we know you?”
“I’ll be driving a blue BMW Z3 convertible.”
“Awesome.”
* * * *
They both squeezed into the passenger seat and got the seat belt around. They were smiling and laughing. Rhonda was a short, thin blonde with a round, happy face. Melissa was just as thin but six inches taller and a brunette. They were full of youthful energy; this night was just another adventure. They wore hip-hugging jeans and cotton pullovers.
And on the way to the restaurant, the damnedest thing happened. I’ve known people in this town that I haven’t seen for years even though we are no more than miles away from each other most of the time. But whom did we run into on the way down Dixie Highway: my partner Ruben, his wife Luli and their kids. I was cruising along with those two fresh-faced beauties, their hair whipping behind them, when I heard, “Bu-u-ck! Bu-u-ck!” Children’s voices screaming my name. I looked over and Ruben’s Buick had pulled up next to us. He and Luli grinned and waved and he gave me the thumb-up sign. His kids waved and yelled and pressed ketchup embossed kisses against the Plexiglas of their window. I knew I’d have to call him to explain; otherwise, he’d think I was robbing cradles for dates. I waved back and smiled.
The food at the Flamingo was just what the girls were hoping for, and they were primed to talk. Melissa had meatballs; Rhonda had chicken Parmesan; I had a pasta salad. They wanted to order wine, but I wouldn’t let them. They settled for iced tea.
Nevertheless, their stories about Nano and Paulie were more confirming than revealing. Rhonda had met Paulie at a party and he asked her out. Through him, she met Nano. She decided she liked Nano better than Paulie; Nano seemed more serious and dedicated. She introduced Melissa to them, hoping Paulie would like her. He did and she liked him. That led to the Christmas invitation. They were both surprised when the guys didn’t show. Their narrative confirmed that Nano was intelligent, highly focused; Paulie, fun-loving, adventurous.
I asked them if they had dated anyone else.
Rhonda said, “Of course. I for one am not looking to be chained down before I get a Bachelor’s degree.”
Melissa said, “Me neither.”
“Were any of the other guys serious?”
Melissa said, “You mean like jealous or obsessive?”
“Yeah, like that.”
“I hope not. Because we weren’t.”
Then Rhonda’s tone changed, revealing that maybe for Nano she had held higher hopes despite the declarations of independence. “Mr. Jaspers, what do you think happened to them? Do you think they’re alive?”
“I don’t know, but I’m going to find out.”
For two skinny women, they put away a lot of food, including a dessert of ice cream and cake. I dropped them off at their dorm afterward and they said they’d be willing to do it again. I told them they were sweet and drove away.
As soon as I got inside my apartment, I called Ruben. “Ruben, it’s not what you think.”
END of Chapter 3
Buck's partner Ruben Marquez is named after a friend and a favorite writer. Below are some items related to this blog.
No comments:
Post a Comment