The Fountains of Silence(42)

    Thank you for your letter, Sister. I am happy to hear that José is a good little boy and that you feel he is gifted and smart. Unfortunately, we cannot accept him back at home. We have seven other children and no means to care for them. José will be better off with an adoptive family. Since he is smart, he will be able to make his own way in life.



Puri’s heart sinks. How could parents not want their son back? How can a six-year-old make his own way in life? Adopting couples and families want newborns, perfect infants they can raise as their own. Chances are very slim that a family will adopt the sweet boy. This means that José may never feel truly wanted or loved. She returns the file to the cabinet and closes the drawer. Puri is grateful for the information. She will dote on little José. It is her duty to serve the children.

Heartsick, Puri suddenly thinks of Clover. She makes her way down the cabinets and looks for 20 116. She finds files for 20 115 and 20 117. The file for 20 116 is missing. Perhaps Sister Hortensia has the file in her office because she is so actively looking for a good home for Clover?

Near the door, Puri spies a table with several files. Maybe Clover’s is among them. She opens an unmarked file and sees columns with the assigned numbers that correspond to each orphan. In a row to the right of each number is a list labeled ADOPTION FEES.

They can’t be correct.

Puri looks at the numbers more closely. The figures are astronomically high.

She scrolls the list to find 20 116. She runs her finger across the line and lands on Clover’s adoption fee. There has to be a mistake.

200,000 pesetas.





46



Rafa steps into the dark confessional box. He kneels and awaits the priest. Bound by the sacramental seal of confession, Rafa knows the Vallecas priest will not divulge his sins. The words spoken in confession are guarded by complete confidentiality.

The small square window slides open and through the latticed screen, Rafa sees the silhouette of Father Fernández. He greets the priest with the sign of the cross.

“Hail Mary the Purest.”

“Conceived without sin,” replies the priest.

“It has been seven days since my last confession.” Rafa takes a breath. “Padre, I have trespassed upon another’s property.”

“And where were these sins committed?”

“In the pasture of Don José Isasa Cuadros, Padre.”

The priest remains silent.

“Oh, and I fibbed again to my sisters. They still don’t know about my girlfriend.”

Rafa clears his throat. “For these and all my sins, I ask pardon of God, penance, and absolution of you, Padre,” he recites.

Rafa hears the priest breathing behind the screen. He issues the penance.

Rafa begins. “I am deeply sorry for all of my sins and for offending Thee, my God, who art deserving of all my love. I detest my sins and will make efforts to do better.”

“May God bless you,” replies the priest.

Rafa exits the confessional. He feels lighter, grateful to be absolved of sin.

Rafa loves confession.





47



Julia kneels in the confessional.

“Hail Mary the Purest.”

“Conceived without sin,” says the priest.

“It has been two weeks since my last confession. Padre, I am withholding truth from those I love in an effort to protect them.”

“And these truths you are withholding, do they relate to your own actions?”

“No, Padre. They relate to actions during the war . . . and current actions by those of authority in our beloved country of Spain. I have told no one what I suspect. The risk is too great. As a result I am forced to be dishonest with my siblings in order to protect them. But each lie leads to another lie. The pressure is mounting and soon it may all explode.”

“You are not alone, my child.”

“But, Padre,” says Julia. “The children of Republicans—we’ve been alone for years, frightened and hiding, punished for something we had no role in.”

“But you are not alone in your hardship. You are safe in the arms of Vallecas.”

Fear is Julia’s constant companion. But with Father Fernández, she feels peace and freedom to unburden all that troubles her. Since it is presumed difficult, some clergy avoid Vallecas. But so moved by the desperation and needs of the people, Father Fernández wrote to the bishop. He asked to delay his next assignment in order to stay with the flock in Vallecas.

The priest issues Julia’s penance of three Hail Marys.

She is grateful for Father Fernández.

Julia is grateful for confession.





48



Ana steps into the confessional.

“Hail Mary the Purest.”

“Conceived without sin,” replies Father Fernández.

Ana pauses. Could she ever be truthful about her sins? She imagines the confession: Bless me, Padre, for I am full of rage. I am seen by many but understood by few. My heart, so capable of love, is instead lined with hatred for our country’s leader. I detest that the coins I earn bear his image and the phrase “Caudillo by the grace of God.” I detest that my future is determined by the past. I detest that I am made to feel unworthy and unable to pursue my heart’s desires. I dream constantly of leaving Spain, of being wanted, yet the hands that have reached for me have never loved me. My sole intimacy is with silence and the taste of tears. Where, dear Padre, is the Grace of God for the children of war, the children judged so unfairly? Am I allowed to ask that?