Mrs. Salazar walked out of the woods toward me. She wore an olive green blouse tucked into leather shorts that were held up with leather suspenders, a cousin of sorts to lederhosen. Heavy wool socks came most of the way up to her sturdy knees and her feet were encased in out-sized mountaineering boots. In her hand she held a tall walking stick that was fitted with an iron tip honed to a frightening point. As she got closer I could see a severe scowl across the coarse features of her face.
“Fraulein Jennifer!” Gramma Salazar yelled. “I told you earlier that you are forbidden to see this man!” Her voice was ragged with anger.
“Gramma, you don’t understand. I only...”
“Jennie, do not talk back to your grandmother! You have disobeyed my orders and that makes me very cross. For that you will be punished.”
“Mrs. Salazar,” I interrupted. “I am trying to help.”
The old woman cut me off by thrusting out her walking stick, the point raised toward me.
“That’s right, Gramma,” Jennifer said.
“Not one more word, child! Now go home!” She turned to me as Jennifer disappeared down the driveway. “I asked you to stay away from Jennifer once before,” she said. “Obviously, I had better make myself more clear!”
“Whatever you wish,” I said.
“We’ll walk in the woods,” she said. Her voice was a hiss. There was a tremor in the hand that held the walking stick, but I could tell it came not from disease or old age, but from anger.
I stepped to her side as she set off at a brisk pace, swinging her walking stick in a large arc and stabbing it into the ground every fourth step. We headed deep into Salazar property at an angle away from the mansion.
“I know what drives you,” she said, venom in her voice.
“Excuse me?”
“Back in Deutschland,” she said, “I majored in zoology at the university in Frankfurt. My favorite class was on Darwin.” She turned and glared at me as we walked. “Darwin makes it clear that I should deal with you severely.”
“And how is that?” I asked, astonished at where this conversation was going.
“It is from Darwin that I learned about the power of the drives that are behind your behavior. Behind most men’s behavior. Impulses that you have no control over. You are, of course, familiar with Darwin.” Her voice was thick with condescension.
“Not in great detail.” Nor did I have any idea where her mind was heading.
“His thesis then.”
I wondered what could be gained by playing her game. And I was distracted by her iron-tipped walking stick punching holes uncomfortably close to my foot as we walked. I answered as best as I remembered. “Just that he was the first to understand that species evolve, and that life is ruled by competition. The fittest species survive and the others perish.”
“True to an extent,” Gramma Salazar said. “If you look closely, however, you’ll see that in many species the greatest threat comes not from other species, but from within. Especially for the offspring. Young fish are eaten by older fish of the same species. Young wolves are threatened by older wolves. Everywhere you look, the females must protect their young from the adult males.” Mrs. Salazar turned to me to make certain I was paying attention. “In mammals particularly, the threat is often with the lone, predatory male. What drives him? Darwin explained that any behavior that increases the likelihood of a male’s genes being passed on to the next generation is a behavior the male offspring will also exhibit. Thus, the behavior of the predatory male is reinforced generation after generation. The result is that females are pursued with little regard for their welfare.”
Gramma Salazar stopped walking and bore her eyes into me. “The greatest danger to Jennifer is not the mountain lion I saw just yesterday over in that hollow.” She pointed to a cleft in the landscape in front of us. “Nor is it lightening or forest fires or the bears that frequent the trails in the woods where she rides her bicycle. The greatest danger comes from her own species. I’ve seen what predatory males like you do to girls. Males get fixated on the poor things. And after the union is consummated, the males slaughter the girls and leave their bodies in ditches.”
“Surely, you’re not suggesting...”
“Hush your mouth, Mr. McKenna! I’m talking!”
We crested a rise. The old woman next to me was not slowed by the brisk uphill walk. Her vice grip on the walking stick was undiminished. The Salazar mansion was visible in the distance. Beyond it the blue waters of Tahoe looked like an advertisement for the good life.
“I agree that Jennifer is in danger,” I said. “But not from me. I am only trying to protect her. You can believe that.”
“No! I don’t! I don’t believe anything you say! I asked you to stay away from her, yet you have not respected my wishes! Therefore, I am calling my good friend Judge Gelford. I will get a restraining order prohibiting you from having any contact with Jennifer!” Gramma Salazar looked up at me, her old eyes aflame.
I was exasperated with her drama. “Why tell me all of this, Mrs. Salazar? You don’t need to lecture me to get your friends in the legal community to do your bidding.”
“Mr. McKenna, I have a moral obligation as well as the moral authority to protect my granddaughter’s life above all else. I recognize what kind of man you are. The reason I told you about Darwin is so that you’ll know that I understand you and those biological drives men have. I am prepared to take action as necessary. I’m telling you all this because I want you to know what will happen if you defy the law and continue to pursue her.”
“I’m a captive audience,” I said. I was unprepared for what she said next.
Gramma Salazar stabbed the sharp walking stick into the ground next to my feet. “If you disobey the restraining order, I will have your knees broken!”