The Fountains of Silence(64)

Rafa says his prayers and allows the others to do the same. Each young man leaves the shed until only Fuga is left.

“I’ll give you a moment of privacy,” he tells his friend.

They exchange a formal handshake. Rafa issues a message of luck.

“Suerte, Huérfano.”





79



Fuga stares into the cracked mirror.

He is not frightened.

He is not frightened of the bulls. He is not frightened of the breeders. He is not frightened of the Crows. He is not frightened of poverty or hardship.

He is not frightened of Franco.

Fuga’s death came as a child, at the hands of a monster in the boys’ home.

He stares at his reflection and begins the internal conversation.

It is impossible to kill a man who is already dead. The mirror is broken, but the reflection is intact. Resurrection is possible, Huérfano. You fight for the forgotten, the abused, the hungry, and the unwanted. You fight for your one and only friend, just as he fights for you.

He takes the wrinkled card of the Virgin and kisses it.

Without hesitation, he walks out of the shed.





80



Rafa stands with Daniel and Nick amidst a small crowd at the edge of the ring. They watch as the ragged troop of young men emerges from the shed. The burly boy in the amber suit yanks constantly at the waistband of his trousers.

“Oh, boy,” says Nick. “This could be unpleasant.”

“Ana says the animals won’t be harmed,” says Daniel.

“Sí. This is just a capea, a caping,” replies Rafa. “As you can see, the audience is less than a hundred people. If we were at Las Ventas in Madrid, there’d be twenty-five thousand people in the arena and it would be very different.”

Daniel stands with his lens on the shed, waiting for Fuga. Rafa nervously assures the men that there is one remaining matador.

“Wait, El Huérfano is coming.”

“Maybe Huérfano has chickened out,” says a man. But there is no time to laugh. At that moment Fuga emerges from the shed in the turquoise suit of lights, silver embroidery shimmering beneath the afternoon sun.

Women nearby chatter. Men issue commentary and judgment.

“Nice suit.”

“Ay, he’s too old.”

“Why such a suit? It’s just a capea.”

“I think I’ve seen him somewhere.”

Fuga walks to the ring, radiating reverence and strength. He is not arrogant, but calmly disconnected from all that titters around him. Rafa recognizes the spell. It is the same trance he has seen in the dark willow fields, when the world seems to fall away and a solitary light shines only on Fuga and the bull.

The group of animals is less ragged than the toreros but still disappointing. Rafa was relieved when he saw them, but he knows Fuga will be disappointed. Fuga has faced full-grown bulls in the fields. He hopes Fuga does not complain when he sees the collection of scrawny, dull-coated bulls, young bull calves, and a restless Corriente cow with massive horns.

The first young man enters the ring, holding a newspaper as a cape.

“Ten pesetas. He’ll last less than two minutes,” Nick wagers with a nearby attendee.

The young bull calf is released into the ring. It runs around and the boy dodges it, flapping the newspaper. The energy is frantic. The calf chases the boy in circles. Nick wins the bet. The next torero is the same. The third ends up running from the ring amidst a serenade of boos. The husky boy in the floppy suit of lights marches into the ring. He is arrogant and demands to face the irritable cow with the big horns.

The cow enters the ring and simply stands there. The torero moves closer to the animal but it does not respond. The boy begins jeering and taunting the animal, flapping the cape, looking for a reaction. Without warning, the cow charges at the boy. He tries to spin away but the animal’s horns catch on his loose jacket.

“?AY!” The boy is lifted from the ground and yells in a panic.

Rafa jumps into the ring. He has pulled Fuga from clips in the fields. Rafa and another man dislodge the boy from the cow and escort him from the ring. The boy wails as blood spills through the sleeve of his suit. The cow’s horn has punctured his shoulder.

The cow is angry, snorting, and rearing.

Fuga jumps into the ring. The crowd pulls a collective breath.

The animal is not calm.

But Fuga is.

With slow and graceful steps, El Huérfano emerges. His gaze is strong and steady, showing reverence to the animal, acknowledging the exchange about to begin. He allows adequate distance and gives the cape a subtle twirl. The cow charges. At the last possible second, Fuga snaps the cape high and away, allowing the cow’s horns to pass so close to his torso that Nick gasps. Subsequent passes are completed with similar strength and grace, eliciting an “Olé” from a few men.

The cow becomes tired. Fuga comes alive.

The cow is exchanged for a young bull. Fuga exhibits similar resolve. He performs a set of tandas, a series of passes, displaying his skill and form. His respect for the bull is evident. He continues the passes with the young bull until the animal achieves sentido, the knowledge that Fuga is his challenger, not the cape. Each pass then becomes more dangerous. The animal suddenly charges straight for Fuga. He drops to his knees in front of the bull. Left hand on his hip, he guides the young bull with the cape extended in his right hand. The crowd issues “Olés” and applause. The breeder corrals the bull from the fight.