Antonio still had a hold on my big toe, probably because she hadn't told him to let go. He was obviously a servant and looked to be the type that would carry out any order no matter how bizarre. I looked at him and felt awkward and embarrassed at having a stranger impersonally touching my foot. He looked at me and I could tell he felt the same way. The tension between us eased as I motioned for him to let go.

"Do you speak English?" I asked slowly.

"A little."

"I speak a little bit of Spanish, your name is Antonio, right?"

He nodded.

"Tell me, Antonio, what is her name?"

He shook his head vigorously. "You must ask her that."

"Okay," I said backing off. "Is she a nun?"

He shook his head again. "Please señor, you must--."

The door creaked behind her as she walked silently up to us. She had changed clothes and now wore a blue work shirt, paint-splattered jeans, and dirty white sneakers. In her hand was a small well-worn brown leather case.

"Muy buen Antonio," she said, unzipping the case.

Antonio looked at the case and rolled his eyes to the tin patterned ceiling. "Aye, Dios Mio," he said before leaving the room.

I understood and sat upright in the tub. "Where is he going? What is that in your hand? He said 'Oh my God.' Why did he say 'Oh my God.'?" I didn't like his reaction or her prolonged silence.

She slowly opened the case as she approached. I grew more nervous with each step she took. Her hand slipped inside the case and brought out an old brass syringe. "He doesn't like needles," she said taking her seat again.

"Are you a doctor?" I asked in a concerned voice.

She smiled as she admired the syringe. "I used to be, a long time ago."

"Do you know what you're doing? What if the tendon is damaged?"

"Then you'll walk with a limp."

I thought about her quick answer and watched her remove a glass vial half filled with a light brown tinted liquid.

"I don't like needles either."

"Then you would rather I do this without anesthetic?"

I looked at her and quickly went over my ever shortening list of options. "No."

She smiled and continued to fiddle with her medical antiques. I wondered if she would have shot me in the basement and if in the next few minutes I would wish she had.