Lina Page 3

  The lips of the captivating Belgian approached her own with no haste – every second counted in his favor.

  When Lina felt the kiss, she suddenly became unable to tell a lie from a truth.

  4. The arrival

  If we were eagles, we would be able to appreciate an enigmatic beautiful spiral made by the cobbled path which leads to a mountain summit – here is the San José Franciscan monastery. Such birds are not able to read or understand the Bible, but, thanks to their instinct, they know that “blowing now toward the south, then toward the north, the wind turns again and again, resuming its rounds.”3

  That afternoon, they were flying suspiciously high, an unmistakable sign that the storm was approaching. The friars hurried to protect the garden and the animals.

  “A storm is on its way! Plus, a pretty bad one…”

  “What about the dog?”

  “I can’t see it. It may be hiding somewhere. Cinnamon! Cinnamon! Where are you?”

  “Leave him alone. This animal is smarter than all of us together. He’ll be safe for a while.”

  “Look at the sky. It turned completely dark. I haven’t seen anything like this in my whole life!”

  “It seems like the end of the world!”

  Brother Pedro, the custodian, nodded thoughtfully as he closed the windows in the library. He did not believe in coincidences. In less than an hour, a young friar was expected to arrive from Mexico. The custodian sighed deeply. Those disturbing clouds did not precede the Apocalypse. Apparently, days of turmoil and change are approaching, he said to himself.

  Elder Brother Miguel limped into the building. It had started to rain, and his aged joints suffered from humidity.

  “What a wild weather to start off the week!” he grumbled as he saw Brother Bartolo, who was about to leave for the station to pick up the new member of the community.

  “Yesterday you were complaining about the heat. You prayed too much so the weather would get cooler, I guess...”

  “Now, I hope no one will blame me for this... Anyway, are you off right away? Wouldn’t it be better to wait until it stops raining? That cliff gives me the shivers even when it’s sunny outside,” he said, pointing at the road.

  Although the location of the monastery was perfect for a small group of friars to feel close to heaven, it took some courage before venturing through curves so tight and steep that the car seemed to be hanging in the void.

  “I’m wearing a natural airbag,” Brother Bartolo said derisively, tapping on his love handles lightly. Seeing that the old friar was still uneasy, he added, “Don’t worry – Franciscan hospitality forbids me from crashing the vehicle while carrying a guest.”

  He started running outside under the thundering storm. Brother Miguel cried out waving an umbrella. The newcomer, however, was unable to hear him.

  He looks so absent-minded.

  Brother Pedro was reading in the library when he heard the sound of an engine.

  “Did Brother Bartolo leave? He left his glasses here!”

  The two friars who were with him crossed themselves at the same time.

  “May God guide him! He is as blind as a bat.”

  “Amen.”

  On the train, the heavy rain made it impossible for Brother Lucas to satisfy his curiosity regarding his new destination. The Mexican lay back feigning indifference. He was not there for sightseeing. It would have been nicer to visit Spain for natural causes instead of having been forced to come. How wrong they are to think that sending me out of Mexico they will get rid of me!

  He would torment himself especially for having abandoned the good people who trusted him and had heroically confronted the drug dealers.

  There is no stinging worse than that of an infected wound, and I have torn my soul apart trying to rescue the forgotten from the brambles of impotence. What’s next? I hope nobody will be compelled to pick up the pieces because of me. Why have I been sent into exile, to a place from which I can do nothing?

  The Mexican, in a gesture of despair, buried his face in his hands. How could they expect him to sit idly on a lost Spanish mountain while the devil was roaming freely in his beloved country? He looked too young to lead a retired life. Though he was not sure of his exact birthdate, twenty-five years was not the age to get away from worldly problems. As soon as the matter is clarified, I will go back. With or without permission. “‘Lord, make me an instrument of Thy peace’...”4

  He alighted at a small train station. Brother Bartolo was waiting there with a warm smile.

  “Welcome! I guess you were followed by a tropical storm…”

  Brother Lucas nodded gently. His youthful appearance gave him a sympathetic, tender air.

  “You’re not mistaken, Brother. I left Mexico with a storm pounding the country. Water there would come up to my knees.”

  Brother Bartolo pointed at the car.

  “On the count of three, we’ll start running. I’m sorry about my absent-mindedness – I forgot my umbrella.”

  Despite the run, they got soaked. Once inside, Brother Bartolo briefly talked to an image of Saint Christopher which was hanging from the rear-view mirror.

  “We just got drenched. Give us a hand and help prevent the car from stalling, will you?” he said.

  At the seventh attempt, the jalopy started. When the winding-curve stretch leading to the monastery began, the wind started to whip the rain in all directions. Brother Bartolo approached the windshield with slanted eyes.

  “I forgot my glasses, but don’t worry – I’d still be able to travel this path if I was blindfolded.”

  Brother Lucas lent him his glasses.

  “How good is your sight now?”

  “Everything looks thinner. Even I look thin!”

  The young friar took a while to react but ended up laughing.

  When they arrived at the monastery, Brother Pedro came out with a couple of umbrellas to welcome him.

  “One of these days Brother Bartolo will forget his own name.”

  Once inside the building, a dog approached slobbering joy to greet the newcomer.

  “Well, you finally showed up! So you were inside the house… You are a really smart dog.”

  The Mexican bent down to pet it. A quote by Saint Francis of Assisi came to his mind – “If you have men who will exclude any of God’s creatures from the shelter of compassion and pity, you will have men who will deal likewise with their fellow men.”

  “Leave the suitcase at the hall for a moment and follow me. There’s a surprise in store for you,” the custodian said.

  The dining room table was set with delicious cookies and hot chocolate. The friars were singing “Jesus bleibet meine Freude,” from Bach’s Cantata 147.

  Brother Lucas thanked them for their warm welcome. In his conscience, he regretted being blessed with so much attention since he had arrived empty-handed, with nothing but anger.

  Once the Mexican had settled, Brother Pedro called him into the meeting room.

  “I thought you could help with the garden and the animals. They provide us with milk and eggs.”

  “I’ll love to. Thank you, sir.”

  “Please don’t call me sir. It reminds me of how old I am.”

  “Oh, don’t take it that way. In my country it is just customary courtesy, sir.”

  “I am sixty-seven years old. This is where I am going to spend the rest of my life if God doesn’t have a last-minute surprise in store for me. What about yourself? How come you were sent to Spain?”

  “Didn’t they tell you?”

  “What were they supposed to tell me?”

  Brother Lucas’ face grew sad.

  “Nothing... Well, I... I don’t know, to be honest. I’d rather be there. Mexico is a country of good and wonderful people, but there is still a long way to go...”

  Brother
Pedro looked toward the window. The dark clouds showed no interest in passing by.

  “Do you really think being in a monastery like this is useless?”

  Brother Lucas carefully weighed his answer. Consecrating your life to God should not by any means be regarded as useless. That was certainly not the case. To put it simply, that was not where he belonged.

  “I think everyone has their ways, and mine are not these.”

  “You consider the Lord has mistakenly sent you to us,” said Brother Pedro, not losing his gentle tone.

  The young man shook his head. He had not wanted to say that, had he?

  “I feel confused.”

  The custodian nodded with a smile.

  “Then, this is where you want to be. And also a good place for self-reflection.”

  “I will reflect, indeed. However, there is something I still don’t understand. Didn’t they give you any reason for my transfer? Not even a single one?”

  “No.”

  “It may be better that way.”

  “Wait, wait. If you are going to be around, I should know what’s going on.”

  “When you find out, please let me know.”

  The Mexican went to bed early. He was exhausted from the trip and sleep deprivation. The envelope containing the compromising documents was hidden inside the poncho which the friars had given him as a gift in the monastery back in Mexico. The sky seemed threatening – stars were gone, as though they had decided to flee an impending catastrophe.

  “I look forward to the day when the fog that prevents the righteous from shining on Earth will be dispersed.”

  Brother Lucas thought he’d heard, in the distance, the weeping of those damned to live in the shadows. What will become of them, my Lord?

  Some words from the Bible came to his mind as they tormented him.

  Again, I considered all the oppression

  That takes place under the sun –

  The tears of the victims with no one to comfort them!

  From the hand of their oppressors comes violence,

  And there is no one to comfort them!

  And those now dead,

  I declared more fortunate in death

  Than are the living to be still alive.

  And better off than both is the yet unborn,

  Who has not seen the wicked work

  That is done under the sun.5

  5. Celebration

  François was in high spirits. It was finally time to celebrate his birthday! The attractive art dealer knew from Lina’s hints that her gift was meant to be really special.

  He took her out to dinner at Pontius, an elegant haute-cuisine restaurant built on top of a breathtaking cliff. This was one of his favorite places. Sitting under the intimidating glass dome with that crown of stars shining above his head made him feel he could rule the world.

  He waved hello to the sky, in case beings from other galaxies happened to be watching him. The exuberant woman sitting at the table next to them snickered. François bowed to her with a gentle smile on his face. Can you see the pride she takes in her body? Unlike Lina-Dullina… Here she is, in her own world, as usual. I’ll see if I can cheer her up a little…

  “I give you a buck for your thoughts, Miss Thoughtful.”

  “I was just looking at the silvery reflection of the moon on the sea water. For a moment, I felt like I was one of those Caspar David Friedrich’s characters6. I can’t help getting carried away while contemplating this landscape.”

  “You are only allowed to contemplate me.”

  Lina stroked his hand affectionately. François put hers on his lips as he gave her a wink.

  “You see? Once you take my advice, Miss, you look more beautiful.”

  “You mean less ugly.”

  “Beige doesn’t suit you, and satin blouses make you look older.”

  “Thank you.”

  Their server approached.

  “Are you ready to order?”

  As usual, François was first.

  “I will have the cauliflower with nuts and white truffles and, then, the roasted lobster with Iberian ham and sautéed boleti.”

  Lina was giving him a fond look when she realized that, once again, he had chosen the most expensive items on the menu. She went for the vegetable crêpes with pumpkin cream and a plate of crab ravioli with seafood sauce.

  François pointed at a Château Haut-Brion Blanc on the wine list.

  “Excellent choice, sir.”

  When the server left, she made a motherly reproachful gesture. Paying over two thousand euros for a bottle was obviously a luxury one could do without.

  “You are hopelessly thoughtless – a madman.”

  “It’s my birthday, and I want to treat my piano lady the way she deserves. Also... Well, you’ll see when my blood starts boiling. Wine is a vasodilator for...” he said, briefly glancing over his private parts with an old-school suggestive pose.

  They began to eat. Usually, for François, the fermentation muses would inspire all sorts of financial juggling which would launch him onto the Forbes list. When dessert was served, he felt bizarrely euphoric.

  “I’ll buy a white golden piano for you, and we’ll carry it along on my private rocket to Mars. I’ll turn you into the first interplanetary pianist ever,” he joked.

  “Don’t be a kiddie.”

  “Kids can’t drink the Krug Clos du Mesnil we’re tasting to drink to the fact that the Belgium tour has finally been formalized. You know how happy it makes me to visit my country with you. Théodore Dubois is your admirer. You need to help me earn his trust.

  “I don’t know who that man is.”

  François closed his eyes smiling as he inhaled.

  “You may actually smell his money from here...”

  Lina was puzzled at the fact that he had brought up the Belgium matter unashamedly. Self-criticism is definitely not his strong point! She had not still recovered from her irritation. The tour still stood miraculously. The email sent by the Belgian organizer had come as an unpleasant surprise: “Dear Miss Maldonado, we are sorry to hear about your disinterest...”

  She had not waited for François to work this out. Apparently, the Belgians had been requesting some contract alterations for two months. The pianist did not even know that he had made objections to the proposal. Once more, Lina was making excuses for him.

  “I am sorry for the inconvenience. There must have been a misunderstanding. Please send me the original document, and I will sign it immediately.”

  “Your previous representative was very professional.”

  “Mister Remy is, too.”

  Lina got lost in her thoughts again as she stared out at the horizon in the landscape.

  I wish I’d never let him convince me to leave Germán Santos. I knew that François could not handle my business and his at the same time. I’m so naïve... All those things he said about spending more quality time together... That greedy man was just interested in attracting more clients. He is using me as a lure for art investors. I should have said no to him. I have always liked to keep my personal and professional lives separate.

  All of a sudden, her reverie was interrupted by a glass of champagne swaying right under her nose.

  “Are you thinking about Caspar Friedrich again? Won’t you drink for me?”

  Lina raised her glass.

  “Here’s to you. Many happy returns of the day! I hope all your dreams will come true – except the one about getting a rocket to Mars.”

  After he drank, he rubbed his hands together as he pulled a mischievous face.

  “Well, my demoiselle. I did my share inviting you to dinner. Now it’s your turn. I’d like to have my birthday present.”

  “Oh, for that you’ll need to wait until we get home. I wasn’t able to fit it into the
bag – it was humongous.”

  They both burst into laughter with a childlike complicity. Lina told herself that the flame of love between them would last as long as they would keep sharing thrilling moments – even if these always needed to be about his wishes. She felt infertile when it came to breeding those wishes. Only you can heal me, Mister Remy. The reflection of your light makes everyone shine – even someone as dull as myself.

  Two hours later, François stopped the car by the entrance of Lina’s lonely mansion, which they used to call home. The house was located in the middle of a mountain.

  In the garage there was a convertible awaiting him. Overflowing with joy, François raised her in his arms and, after flipping her in the air, they ended up kissing all over each other on the car seats. Lina thought they would make love passionately right there. However, François slipped out of her amatory desire and lifted the passionate woman by pulling her arms.

  “Come on, Miss fiery lady – we don’t want to make the upholstery dirty, right? We’ll celebrate later. Wait for me at home. I need to go for a test drive right now. Please wait me up!”

  He started the car in excitement.

  “Hurray!”

  Lina kept watching him until the convertible disappeared from sight. I should have prevented him from leaving. He drank too much. What if he is involved in an accident? What if this was the last time I could see him alive?

  When the pianist opened the door of the house, she burst into tears. Though François used to behave unintentionally, his manners would leave her feeling like an ant under the shoe of a giant.

  Strangely enough, the dog was not there to welcome her home.

  “Tuna! Tuna!”

  With a heavy heart, she called her name several times. The dog was not in the living room.

  “Tuna! Tuna!” she cried in terror.

  Lina rushed upstairs toward the room.

  “Tuna! Please, no... No... No, please… Tuna... Tuna!”

  There she was, lying on her bed, lifeless. There was the pet which had been her loyal companion for eighteen years.