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Two women meet in the desert of New Mexico in 1970 and their lives change forever.
Content Warnings: Violence, Fire, Mild Sexual Content, Loud Noises, Gun Violence
Written and Edited by George Hogg. Narrated by Lara Connolly.
Produced by Woroni Radio on Ngunnawal and Ngambri land, fully funded by SSAF.
PART V: THE RADIO
NARRATOR: PART FIVE: THE RADIO
[sfx: faint wind, a breeze]
NARRATOR: The summer day is hot, the sun turning grass to dirt. You watch as Adelita works in the burning light, a thin shirt soaked with sweat sticking to her back. Her bandana pulls her hair from her face, which glistens. She looks back at you and gives a sly smile, an eyebrow raised. You quickly turn away. She barks out a laugh.
[sfx: running water]
NARRATOR: In the afternoon sun, you go to collect water from the river. It is cool and calm, a far cry from the ranch. You load the water tanks onto your horse and ride back, letting the breeze swirl around you.
[sfx: door opening and closing]
NARRATOR: Adelita is standing on the porch when you arrive, smoking. She tells you to hurry inside. You carry the water tanks onto the wooden platform, then slip through the screen door, looking for the woman.
She stands in front of the kitchen table. You look at her strangely. She steps aside, revealing a radio. It’s big and clunky and the writing is in a language you don’t recognise, but you understand why it’s something special. You step closer to her, hands intertwining as she reaches for the on button.
[sfx: whatever royalty free 60s music we can find]
NARRATOR: The music is scattered and choppy. A hand on your hip pulls you closer. Your heartbeat matches the music. You are close enough to see the individual eyelashes on the deep brown eyes that look at you.
Her eyes flick from your’s, to your lips, and back again.
She gets closer and you swear that time slows down in that moment. Your eyes close as you feel her breath on your lips. Despite the tiny space, it seems like an eternity before your lips meet.
Adelita tastes like smoke and coffee, like the unknown sun burning on the horizon. Your hands slide up her neck. She gives a low laugh into the kiss, pulling away. Your grip tightens around her neck, stopping her from leaving. She looks down at you with mischief in her eyes.
She keeps stepping back until she’s seated on a kitchen chair, a wolf’s grin on her face. She offers you a hand and you take it, letting her pull you onto her lap, legs on either side of hers. Like this, you are the same height as her. Your dress is pulled up over your knees, spilling over Adelita’s lap. Her hands rest on your hips and hold you there.
Wandering hands slip under a shirt and trace the scar they’ve traced so many times. Buttons undone with a free hand, which then runs up and down a tanned torso. A soft sigh as lips meet skin above a laced collar. A strong hand that slides its way up a thigh, under a cotton skirt.
The radio crackles in the background.
—/—
[sfx: a different 60s song, and muffled]
NARRATOR: The radio is still on when you wake up in the morning. A faint song slips into the bedroom. Adelita is asleep, chest down, head tilted to face you. In the morning, she seems softer, gentler but maybe that’s just the afterglow. Your hands trace the red ghosts left on your hips, your chest, your legs. A low laugh comes from your bed companion. She looks at you with half-closed eyes and a sleepy smile. A warm hand comes to rest on your leg.
It is in this moment that you think that you could live forever like this.
No one would ever know what happens in the southern sands, under the summer sun.
It is in this moment that you think that you might tell Adelita your name.
—/—
[sfx: pen scratches, another 60s song.]
NARRATOR: She sits at the table, pen scratching into the paper as she writes her shopping list. Her coffee is cold and you wonder for a moment why she makes it, only to never drink it. A cigarette rests on the edge of the ashtray, embers dropping off. Her foot taps in time with the music from the radio.
She looks up at you with a frown. She tells you that she’s going back to the reservation in the fall. You nod.
She tells you she wants you to come with her.
You walk off, out of the house and into the desert plains.
—/—
[sfx: house creaking]
NARRATOR: You lie awake in the middle of the night, mind racing. Adelita is asleep, chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm. It’s cold but you feel clammy, skin on fire.
[sfx: wind with howl]
NARRATOR: You stumble outside, letting the wind sweep your blanket around you. The moon is high in the sky, bright and all seeing. In the distance, a lone howl echoes amongst the sands.
A low voice tells you to watch for coyotes. You whip around to find Adelita leaning on the doorframe with a frown, eyes betraying her gentleness. You stand apart from each other, neither moving closer.
The moon softens her hard features, long hair tumbling and catching the faint light. Her skin is creased with lines from the sun and her scars almost seem to glow.
She is not beautiful, not in the way that other women so frequently are.
She is harsh; all hard lines and points. Her eyes are cruel and sharp, those of a prowling beast.
Your heart stutters.