The Fountains of Silence(41)

Her mind reaches deeper into the drawer. That is not all.

After the Francoists killed her father, Julia’s mother joined the resistance. Despite the pleas of friends and family, her mother secretly sewed Republican flags for nearly a year. When Franco’s troops arrested her, no one came to her aid. Neighbors hid behind their curtains, full of fear and panic. Those who shared her convictions did nothing to protect her. The price was too high.

They shaved her head in prison. They branded her bare flesh with the yoke-and-arrow symbol of the Falange. They force-fed her castor oil so she would soil herself. They paraded her mother through the streets, human dignity excreting down her legs for all to see. Their mother, a teacher, became a human billboard:

This is what happens when you become a Rojilla, a little Red.

There is so much heartache, so much pain. Tired of being fearful, tired of being hungry—most days Julia is too tired to fight. But keeping the drawer of secrets tightly locked doesn’t mean she condones the dictator or the Falange. It means she wants to protect all that remains. So she repeats Aunt Teresa’s mantra: Estamos más guapas con la boca cerrada. We are prettier with our mouths shut. Life is prettier with its mouth shut.

Her siblings feel otherwise. Full of energy, they long for truth and justice. It is difficult for the younger generation. Rafa believes he can liberate himself through the conquering of fear. He will assist the gravedigger matador. The bullring will become his theater of courage. Ana believes she can author her own destiny and eventually leave Spain. But her sister’s dreams are too large. Too dangerous. Ana thinks Julia does not see her pain. She does. Last night Ana cried herself to sleep after returning from her day at the hotel. Her sister’s tears, the audible famine of isolation, it made her cry as well.

“Julia.”

The drawer of thoughts closes. Her boss, Luis, stands at the front of the workshop. “May I speak with you?”

Julia follows Luis through the workshop to his small office. He closes the door and motions for her to sit.

“I want you to see this, before someone else does.” He hands Julia a newspaper and points to a photo.

The caption reads:


America’s Distinguished Sons—Nicholas Van Dorn, son of embassy diplomat, and Daniel Matheson, son of Texas oil baron, attend the fashion gala at the U.S. Embassy. The model wears a gown from the Pedro Rodríguez boutique at the Castellana Hilton.



Julia stares at the photo. Some people appear awkward in glamorous clothing. Ana is not one of them. She wears the expensive dress more naturally than her threadbare clothes or hotel uniform.

Julia looks at the tall, dark-haired Texan. Ana mentioned that she is assigned to his family for the summer. She did not mention his looks. Handsome. His suit is expensive, privately cut, and expertly tailored to his strong frame. His tie is imported from Italy; Julia can tell by the size of the knot.

The photo speaks a private language. Ana leans toward the Texan. The Texan leans toward Ana.

“I saw the photo and nearly fell off my chair. At first glance I swore it was your mother. She looks so much like her,” says Luis.

Julia smiles softly. “She looks exactly like her. She’s beautiful.”

“And that one. He’s the one you told me about?” asks Luis.

Julia sighs and points to Nick Van Dorn. “Yes, he’s the one.”





45



“I have an important meeting. I am not to be disturbed. Do you understand, Purificación?”

“Yes, Sister,” says Puri. “But . . . did the boy find my surprise from Ratoncito Pérez?”

“Indeed. He was overjoyed.” Sister Hortensia removes a small envelope from her desk drawer and hands it to Puri. “I’m going to trust you with something important. While I am in my meeting, take the tooth downstairs and put it in the boy’s file. The file number is on the envelope. Are you responsible enough to handle this?”

“Yes, Sister.” Puri slips the small envelope with the tooth into the pocket of her apron.

“Good.” Sister removes a large ring of keys from her rope belt and extends a key to Puri. “You will give the keys to Sister Pilar when you are finished.”

Puri swells with pride. She has won Sister’s trust. As long as Puri can remember, her parents have been overprotective, not allowing or trusting her to explore on her own.

The locked file room, located underground, is generally off-limits to anyone but the doctors, nuns, and priests. The dark basement is much cooler than the upper floors. The heavy keys echo in the windowless space as Puri unlocks the door. Her hand feels along the rough stone wall for a light switch. She pushes the button and a dim, caged light glows from above. Puri decides it’s best to do her work in private. She shuts the door.

Rows of wooden filing cabinets create aisles in the room. Puri walks down the lines of cabinets, looking for the range of numbers that will house the envelope in her hand. She finds the drawer and pulls it open. The files are neatly arranged in numeric order.

“There you are,” says Puri, retrieving a file. She puts the envelope with the tooth in the file. She pauses, curious. What sort of information is kept in the files? She begins to leaf through. The file contains the child’s arrival form, annual medical summaries, classroom reports, and various other notations and correspondence. A postmarked envelope addressed to Sister Hortensia is included in the file. Should she? Puri peeks inside.