The Fountains of Silence(35)

Most matadors are gentlemen, classically trained toreros. Joselito, Belmonte, and Spain’s beloved Manolete—Rafa reveres them all. When Manolete died, a piece of Spain died with him. He was gored through the thigh, and the teams of special surgeons couldn’t save him. He and Fuga have no special surgeons. There is no one supporting them.

They trudge on, into the closing dark. Rafa issues the reminder.

“The world we seek entrance to, it is a world of men with fat cigars, expensive automobiles, and relationships over many generations. You know that. But it is also a world where courage and skill transcend ancestry, Fuga. If a matador is truly talented, the blood running through his veins is not judged. It is protected.”

Fuga nods.

To practice with bulls in a breeder’s pasture is highly illegal. If caught, punishment will be immediate—and final. Rafa will go to confession before Mass on Sunday. He will again ask their priest in Vallecas for forgiveness and courage. Rafa pledges that once he earns money as part of Fuga’s cuadrilla, his entourage, he will secretly compensate the breeders for tainting their bulls. This is his own plan.

They arrive at the pasture. The rumbling exhales and stomps of the bulls pass loudly on the still night air. Fuga unrolls his rusty blanket. He looks to Rafa and nods.

“In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost, amen,” recites Rafa. He makes the sign of the cross.

They crawl through the fence.





36



A six-year-old boy sees Puri and gestures frantically.

“What is it, chico?”

He lifts his small right hand, pinched tightly into a fist. He waves Puri to the corner and opens his fingers.

In the center of the boy’s palm sits a tooth. Puri claps in delight.

“Wonderful! Let me see,” she says.

The boy smiles proudly, revealing a large gap in the front of his mouth.

“You know what this means, don’t you?” asks Puri.

The boy nods.

“Sí,” says Puri. “Tonight you will put the tooth under your pillow. Ratoncito Pérez, the mouse that lives in a box of cookies, will visit while you sleep. He will take the tooth and leave a surprise for you.”

Puri wraps the child in a hug as he bounces with delight. The older children at the Inclusa have less chance of being adopted, so Puri dotes on them whenever possible. She loves playing Ratoncito Pérez.

A nun whisks by Puri. “Don’t dawdle. Diapers need changing, babies need bathing and feeding.”

Puri makes her way to the nursery, anxious to share the news of the tooth with Sister Hortensia.

Sister Hortensia stands at Clover’s bassinet, engaged in conversation with a pregnant woman and her husband. Puri enters unnoticed. She tends the babies nearby and eavesdrops in the process.

“My wife is tired of wearing a pillow around her stomach. We’re not sure this feels right,” whispers the man.

Puri is desperate to look at the woman, but knows better.

“This child could be the answer,” replies Sister Hortensia. “She’s still very small.”

“She’s small, but too large to be a newborn, especially if we’re claiming a premature birth. For the large sum we’re paying, we want a newborn.”

“And you shall have one,” whispers Sister Hortensia. “I only present this as an option because your wife feels uncomfortable with the current situation. Let’s discuss this in my office.”

Puri counts their retreating footsteps on the tile floor. She turns to look. It is not the first time this has happened. Sister Hortensia tells her that some couples feel ashamed they cannot conceive. She says societal pressures are such that on occasion, a woman prefers to fake a pregnancy rather than admit adoption. When that happens they must protect the woman’s secret at all costs. It is a sin to reveal someone else’s secret.

Puri thinks of Ana’s family. As children of Republicans they must carry many secrets. How, then, did Ana manage to get a job at the big American hotel?

Clover cries and Puri moves to inspect her diaper. She is relieved the couple did not choose Clover. The man was dough-faced and grim. She did not like the way he mentioned the large sum of money, nor how that prompted Sister Hortensia to ensure his satisfaction. Clover must have a handsome and kind family. She wishes that one of the brave matadors would adopt the child. A notable Spanish family adopting an orphan would be incredibly touching.

The thought triggers last night’s dream. Puri reaches into her memory, trying to retrieve the quickly fading narrative. A tall matador walks toward her, handsome and graceful. He wears a suit of lights in royal sapphire, covered with glimmering gold accents. She looks up at him and smiles. He smiles back. And that’s when Puri realizes. The matador in the dream is not Ordó?ez. It’s Daniel, the Texas cowboy she met on the street.





37



Why does the Valley of the Fallen upset Ana?

Daniel stares at the photos, now taped to the wall of his hotel suite. He shouldn’t have asked her to work on the project. It made her uncomfortable. But when they’re speaking and she’s smiling, he forgets that she’s a hotel employee.

He turns to his father, seated on the small sofa. “How was Valencia?” he asks.

“Wonderful city. Beautiful sea. I would’ve stayed an extra day, but your mother wanted to return for the fashion show at the embassy. Speaking of, you should get dressed. Suit and tie tonight.”