The Fountains of Silence (30 page)

74

“Hola
,” says Daniel. “Ready to go?” Rafa slaps him into a huge hug.

Daniel is not alone. Asleep in the front seat is Nick Van Dorn.

“He wanted to come. I hope that’s okay?” whispers Daniel.

Rafa stares at Nick. He finally shrugs. “Sure, your car.”

“Is your girlfriend coming?” asks Daniel.

Rafa throws a quick glance over his shoulder. “
Shh
. No. Just us. I’ll get Fuga.” Rafa turns and makes his way toward the encampment of crumbling shacks. Daniel follows.

Only Fuga, Julia, and the baby are present in the shack.

“
Buenos días, señora
,” Daniel greets Julia. “I brought you a couple of pictures.” He hands Julia the photo he took of Lali and also the picture of Julia fitting Fuga’s suit of lights.

“
Gracias, señor
. I will cherish these. I saw the photo you took of our matador. It’s
fabulosa
.” Julia shoots Fuga a prompting look. Fuga shrugs.

“I have photos for some of the people in Vallecas,” says Daniel.

“
¡Qué fantástico!
You can share them upon our triumphant return!” says Rafa.

Julia hands Rafa the bundle of clothes. She whispers to both young men and gives them each a kiss. She then lifts the stiff cape from the table, prepared to follow them.

“No, you needn’t come,” says Rafa quickly, blocking her from the doorway.

“Lali is sleeping. She’ll be fine. I just want to see you off.”

Rafa whispers to Julia. Her face shrinks with alarm. “Nick? What is he doing here?”

Daniel tries to conceal his frustration. Why didn’t he trust his instincts and just say no to Nick?

“I’m sorry. I didn’t realize there was a problem. He wanted to come along,” says Daniel.

Julia gives a tired wave of her hand. “Just go. Go!”

The three men trudge from the shack.

“It’s a long story,” says Rafa. “And not mine to tell.”

They take a few steps and are bombarded by teams of shrieking children, grabbing at the bundled suit of lights.

“
¡Basta!
” yells Rafa. “Enough. But if the afternoon goes well, we will all celebrate,” he assures them.

Daniel opens the trunk of the car so Rafa can put in the clothing. Seeing crates of food, the children squeal with delight.
Tortilla de patata
, oranges, and Manchego cheese.

“I thought we might get hungry,” says Daniel.

Rafa slams the trunk. “No food. Not until after. He’s on a restricted diet.”

A boy tugs at Daniel’s sleeve. “The
torero
must have an empty belly. That way it’s easier for the doctor to sew him back together if the bull tears holes in him.” The little boy smiles and nods, proud of his macabre knowledge.

“It’s true,” says Rafa. “But there will be no specialized surgeon today. No doctors or chaplains standing by.”

Daniel gets in the car. He is grateful he took Ana’s advice and brought towels.

The children surround Fuga’s side of the car, waving and pushing their faces against the glass. They wish him well, bubbling with joy and excitement. The faintest hint of a smile emerges on Fuga’s lips. He
takes his finger and touches the window, replying to the girl with the raven braid, who is kissing the glass. Daniel grabs his camera from the floorboard and takes a picture.

Daniel spent the night reading a book he bought on the history of bullfighting. In ancient times, bulls were revered as mythological gods. Those who stood before the bulls and presented their life for sacrifice were considered high priests. Symbolically, in facing a bull, some believe a matador achieves closeness with God and unifies himself with death.

Daniel looks in the rearview mirror. Fuga’s eyes are closed, a quiet smile crossing his face. He is composed. Ready.

The Buick pulls slowly out onto the road.

75

Ana makes her way down the corridor of the seventh floor.

Do guests realize that personal details reveal themselves in a hotel room? Lorenza shared her daily brief earlier in the basement:

The man in 615 eats in bed (crumbs in the sheets), has high blood pressure (medicine in the bathroom), and plays Casanova (leaves his wedding ring in the room while out for the evening).

The woman in 248 secretly likes gin (bottles under the bed), sleeps with her makeup on (evidenced by her pillow), and has a penchant for mystery (books with “Murder” in the title by someone named Agatha Christie).

Ana unlocks the door to 760.

Daniel’s suite is not neat, but also not messy. Coins, expensive cuff links, and a fountain pen sit exposed on the bureau. He is trusting. She looks to the undressed bed. The hotel coverlet lies bunched at the foot of the mattress. He sleeps with only a sheet, his head on the left pillow. Most American guests have pajama sets or nightclothes. He doesn’t. She blushes. On the nightstand sits his Capa book. Daniel reads before going to sleep.

Ana opens the narrow closet and runs her hand across his clothes. His jeans are not from Neiman-Marcus. They have a leather patch on the back pocket that says Blue Bell Wrangler. She tries to adjust the jumbled hangers but they put up a fight. As she removes the hanging clothes, she discovers the cause. Stacked from top to bottom in the back of the closet are the countless towels Daniel has requested—requested so she would come to his room.

She smiles and removes them so he’ll ask for more.

His toiletries in the bathroom are housed in an expensive leather travel kit. A single bottle, his shaving tonic, sits on the bathroom counter. Ana brings the glass bottle, marked
Old Spice Holiday Edition
, to her nose. It’s the scent she smelled the very first day in his room, the scent she smelled on the Metro, and the scent she smelled in the courtyard at the embassy. It’s masculine and steady, like Daniel. It smells of leathery cloves and herbal woods, with hints of sweet tobacco. Ana removes a thin handkerchief from her apron and dots a tiny pop of the aftershave on it.

Holding the fabric to her nose, she walks into the living area of the suite. She’s happy that Daniel is with Rafa and hopes she’ll get to see him when they return to Vallecas. If only Julia could understand. Daniel is different. He’s kindhearted, genuine, and honest. He didn’t have to share his fears about his parents but he did. Each time they’re together, Ana cares less about the recommendation letter and more about Daniel. Thoughts of Julia’s disapproval bring the threatening notes to Ana’s mind. She whisks the thought away.

A lone chair is placed in front of the wall containing Daniel’s photographs. Ana sits in it. The images are evocative, full of story and truth. The captions come to her immediately. She walks to the desk to retrieve a piece of hotel stationery. And that’s when she sees it.

Sitting in the trash is a Western Union telegram. It’s addressed to Daniel from someone named Laura Beth.

It’s torn apart.

76

While the others prepare, Daniel and Nick stand at the back of the car, eating lunch from the trunk.

“Ben has a photo assignment for me tomorrow,” says Daniel.

“That’s swell. What is it?”

“He wouldn’t tell me. But I trust him. Ben’s on the up and up.”

“Yeah, he’s definitely not on the up and down, if you know what I mean. Poor guy won’t admit it, but he’s been desperate to find a girlfriend in Spain. He hangs on at the clubs even after I’ve left. So that tells you something.”

“He works hard. He probably needs to unwind,” says Daniel.

Nick removes a flask from his shirt pocket and takes a swig.

“Rafa seemed surprised to see you,” says Daniel.

“Yeah, it’s been a while.”

He turns to face Nick. “So, let’s hear it. Why’d you send me out to their house last weekend? Kind of a wise-guy move, if you ask me.”

Nick laughs. “Sorry if I embarrassed you.”

“Not me. It was embarrassing for Ana.”

“Nah, she loved it.”

Daniel shifts his feet. “She loved it or you loved it, Nick?”

Nick raises his hands in nervous surrender. “Honest. I could tell you were interested, but she can’t socialize at the hotel. Did it all turn out okay?”

Daniel nods. “Listen, if you have eyes on Ana, be a man. Tell me to step aside.”

Nick speaks slowly and directly. “We’re just friends. I’ve told you that, Matheson.”

“So you won’t mind if I spend time with her?”

“No. But remember, this isn’t the States. You can’t just drive up in your nice car, sweet-talk the parents, and take a girl out. All dates have to be chaperoned. Families are involved, the whole thing.”

Daniel thinks of his parents. “Ana’s family, what’s the story there?”

“Her parents were part of the intellectual crowd who opposed Franco. They both wound up dead, and the kids are terrified they’ll eventually be punished as well. Let’s face it, Franco wasn’t exactly forgiving after the war. Ana’s older sister had to carry the load. And Rafa.” Nick whistles and shakes his head. “He had it the worst. He was sent to some reformatory joint up near Barcelona. He and his crazy matador friend were there together. From what I gather, they were tortured. And I’m not talking beat up in an alley by some debt-collecting thugs. I mean really tortured. The two of them escaped somehow and nearly died in the process. We’re a couple of pansies next to those two.”

Daniel thinks on Nick’s words. Rafa was tortured? He exudes such warmth, enthusiasm, and determination. He doesn’t have an ounce of bitterness.

Nick lights a cigarette. “Listen, Ana is beautiful. But if you’ve got some rich boy fantasy of a girl from the other side of the tracks, step back. You and I both know our parents want us with debutantes from families on the Social Register. But if you’re looking to have a real conversation and you’re willing to take it slow, Ana’s a girl that you’ll never forget—if you can get around her sister and brother-in-law.”

Daniel nods. “The brother-in-law, Antonio, already sent me on a fool’s errand. Probably hoped I’d get lost and never return.”

“Oh yeah?” Nick laughs.

“Yeah. He sent me to some huge old orphanage. He said I might find a story there to photograph.”

Nick’s eyebrows lift. “Even if you did, you wouldn’t be able to prove it.”

“Prove what?” Daniel asks.

Nick exhales a mouthful of smoke. “That some of the babies they’re selling aren’t
orphans.”