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Most detainees who came to the prison where like him, sometimes they shared a cell with him, but no one knew what they were accused of or of any evidence against them. They didn’t even know the witnesses that charged them.
Juan Carlos began to learn things that seemed to extend his life. He didn’t know if it was good or bad, but at least he had to try. It had been a few weeks since the inquisitors took him and his brother, whom he never saw again.
He spent a few weeks without sunlight, or clean fresh air.
He was kept underground in a building full of long and narrow corridors, lit by torches and always guarded by guards.
The first few days were a real hell inside the cell. It was almost impossible to breathe the heavy, foul air. About twenty people remained locked in and everyone urinated and defecated there.
They vomited, too. Just like Juan Carlos did for two days in a row. The nausea produced the foul odor. Above all, once a day when they brought a piece of bread with a little water, the bread sometimes fell on the ground because of the abrupt and humiliating way in which the guards fed them. However, their hunger was so great that, it didn’t matter if the bread had fallen into a pool of pee or shit, the prisoners took it and ate it.
It took Juan Carlos a while to get used to that.
He had to start eating something so his cellmates would not realize that even though he had not eaten for a long time, his body looked as good as if he had been feeding on beef instead of bread.
When Juan C. began to notice that some of them spoke in secret, especially leaving him out of the conversation, he decided to start eating bread even if it was full of shit.
It was either that or he would go directly to a torture room, which he had been spared since he entered the prison. Surely his cellmates-to save their own skin-would accuse him of being a true heretic. The last thing Juan Carlos needed at the moment was for a cellmate to add more fuel to the bonfire in which he was convinced that, sooner or later, would end up burned on.
***
Isabel was wrapped in her multicolored woolen poncho, sitting on a corner of the large sofa in the living room, hugging her knees. Her head was bursting from hearing the beginning of a story that promised to be too cruel for her. The amount of caffeine in her body would not allow her to even think of sleeping tonight but she had to try because if she didn’t sleep she would go crazy.
It was a couple of hours before the sunrise.
Carlota was in the kitchen recharging the coffeepot, Edward was helping her. She could not take her eyes off Juan Carlos.
Poor man. How much he must have suffered.
She felt her heart shrink. Not for Juan Carlos, no. This time, it was for Luke. How long would she think of him?
She felt her eyes sting and she did not hesitate before going to her room.
“I'm going to bed,” she announced to those gathered in the drawing-room.
She stood up and Juan Carlos did the same.
She looked at him doubtfully.
He smiled at her. The poor wretch had a beautiful smile and yet he could not hide the permanent sadness in his eyes.
“May you have a restful sleep.”
Isabel could not help but smile and shake her head.
“Juan Carlos, if you want to live in these modern times, please behave like a normal man.” The immortal studied her intriguingly. You do not have to stand up every time a woman next to you gets up, and just say: 'Good Night'
The man nodded uncomprehendingly.
“They're good manners. Are they no longer used?”
“Mmmm,” Edward grimaced in disgust, “let's just say they've changed considerably.”
“You must teach me, please.”
“I'm sure my sister will take care of that,” Isabel said as she winked at her sister. “I am convinced that from now on she will be your shadow and will become your best friend.”
Juan Carlos opened his eyes in surprise.
“Oh no!” he looked at Edward. A man and a woman could never be friends. “That is not viewed well, especially if the woman has a husband.”
Edward turned his eyes to the sky.
“Easy, Juan, you have nothing to worry about. I trust my wife, and something tells me that we will all become good friends.”
“It seems the society of writers is going to be proud of your find,” Isabel said to Carlota.
She stood and hugged her.
Isabel felt her world stagger and a form lump in her throat as she thought of Luke again.
She kissed her sister.
“I'll take care of Alice tomorrow. You're going to have a lot to do with Juan Carlos.”
“Thank you.” Carlota sincerely smiled at her. She saw the emotions in her eyes. “Are you okay?”
Her older sister knew her too well.
Isabel nodded.
“I’m just tired. I'm going to bed. Good night.”
She went to her room leaving everyone behind.
When she closed the door, she dropped to the wooden floor and hugged her knees again, resting her head on them. She closed her eyes and let the knot in her throat dissolve into tears.
What was Luke doing?
She missed him so much. She wanted to talk to him, to see his smile.
She thought of Juan Carlos and how difficult it must have been to have been imprisoned, isolated and in a reality he would have done anything to escape.
Just as she was at that moment. Damn unrequited love, knowing nothing about the loved one and wanting to open his eyes and realizing that her life up to that moment was nothing more than a cruel joke, a dreadful nightmare.
***
Carlota was very tired, but happy. There were too many emotions to deal with for one night.
She was still grateful to the universe that Juan Carlos turned out to be better than bread.
She smiled.
She saw the coffee pot and thought about having another cup, but her body immediately rejected the thought. She had never had so much coffee in one night.
Juan Carlos was delighted with the drink. The little he began to tell of his story seemed so frightening that she felt the urge to consume caffeine nonstop so she could have all her wits to be able to remember Juan’s every expression.
The words were recorded on her tape recorder.
She was in front of her computer, reviewing what was written about the estate’s legend.
She looked at the clock.
Isabel would arrive with Alicia soon and she would have to stop. She hoped to be able to deal with the little girl's scampering around all afternoon. She didn’t want her to take a nap so she would go to bed early. Carlota wanted to resume her conversation with Juan Carlos.
They had to stop when her daughter woke up because she wouldn’t stop calling 'mommy' even though Isabel wanted to take care of her for the day.
Edward had a sowing engagement with Alfonso and Juan Carlos, wanted to join him. Her husband didn’t think it wise for him to go out in a time so different from his. “If you're surprised with sugar,” Edward said, “I don’t want to know what's going to happen when you see cars”
Juan Carlos behaved perfectly as soon as he left the house. He promised he would and everyone agreed with his request when his eyes showed desperation to be outdoors and his voice became a plea. At that moment, Carlota thought about everything he must have begged for when he was a prisoner. She could not allow the same thing to happen now. For that simple reason Juan Carlos was free to do what he wanted. Edward promised to keep her informed via cell phone.
The last message said that they would arrive at lunchtime and Juan Carlos concealed his astonishment with everything he saw very well.
Poor thing.
How many things were waiting for him to explore.
Carlota was anxious. She knew she had the perfect story before her. Fantastic. Worthy of being a bestseller, but it did not have a solid argument.
Sigh.
She received another email from her agent. Once again, she indicated that there were only a few weeks left before she had to hand over a draft of her new story to the editor.
She already knew that, and her unbearable ghost muses too!
She closed her tired eyes.
Just as she decided to lean back with her eyes closed, she heard Edward and Isabel's cars park by the front door.
***
Edward entered with his little girl in his arms. When she saw her mommy she wiggled until Ed put her down. When she was free she went to greet Carlota.
Those moments were the ultimate happiness for Edward, seeing the two women he loved the most in the world, hugging and exchanging smiles. It was the best part of his day.
He approached his wife and planted a sweet kiss on her lips.
“How was your day? He asked when he saw the clutter on the sofa and the computer turned on to a blank page.”
“Awful,” she said with a half-smile. “You took my muse.”
Edward laughed.
“Don’t listen to him. He’s going to say it’s not good to call him your muse. That would be disrespectful to your husband.”
Carlota smiled at him.
“How was Alfonso?”
Edward sighed and went to the kitchen with his wife and daughter.
“All right. It was very funny to see your muse’s face on some occasions and even better, to see Alfonso's face when Juan Carlos did something strange.”
“How did you explain his behavior?”
Edward shrugged. His wife was going to kill him for his reply.
“I told him you'd tell him later.”
“What?”
“You're a writer, sweetheart.” He began raining soft kisses all over her face to soften the reproving expression she wore. “You'll think of something good to say to Alfonso,” he finished with his classic, unerring wink that she could not resist. Upon seeing her roll her eyes he knew he still had it.
“Seriously, Juan Carlos, thank you. I can do it myself,” her sister-in-law complained, following Juan Carlos, a little annoyed.
“I told you,” Ed said seriously to his new friend.
“But I can’t let her carry this.”
His sister-in-law rolled her eyes.
“Friend, you have to understand women today struggle to be equal to us.”
Juan Carlos looked doubtful.
“There are things only we can do.”
“It's unbearable,” Isabel said under her breath.
Carlota smiled.
“Put them over there, Juan. Thank you.”
His wife indicated to the immortal where he needed to put the two bottles of drinking water that Isabel bought. Juan C. insisted on carrying them as soon as he saw her unloading them from her car.
Ed already knew his sister-in-law and his wife. He was happier since he did what they told him. For example, today, his sister-in-law said: 'Take Alice and I’ll take the water.'
Holy word. Why the hell would you want to argue?
He picked up his little one and left her with her desire to carry eight gallons of water under each arm, up an incline in heels that Ed still, wondered how the heck women walked with those on their feet.
“Is it because in your day women were useless?”
“Isabel!” Carlota protested.
“What?”
Edward picked up the child and sat her in her high chair.
“No, Miss Isabel,” said Juan Carlos politely. “Women had their jobs and we had ours.”
Isabel folded her arms.
Edward started laughing under his breath at those two.
Poor Juan Carlos, his eternal life was far removed from what Ed had seen in movies or the things his wife shared with him from reading.
He stayed with Carlota, until the early part of the morning, while Juan Carlos narrated part of his history.
He was frightened by the beginning and knew that his new friend had not begun to tell the worst of all he had lived through. He only had to remember the look of horror on the immortal’s face when he saw the scissors approaching him to cut his beard and hair or the way he trembled with fear when he turned on the shaver.
The scars were another thing could not erase from his memory. There were not parts of his body that were not marked with a scar.
He could only think of the cruelest torture.
His little girl smiled at him, making him concentrate on his current surrounding.
Carlota was setting the table.
“Look, Juan Carlos,” said his sister-in-law, approaching him with four flat plates, “things have changed so much that today I can carry the water and without a doubt you have to help set the table because it is not a women's thing.”
Edward laughed when he saw the immortal's confusion.
He was standing in a corner of the kitchen, waiting for the 'women' to set the table. It was then he understood why Juan Carlos looked baffled, while Edward helped the girls.
“Brother,” he said, “come so I can teach you. She's right, we also help with housework today.”
***
“Yes, you'd better learn,” Isabel said, looking him in the eye.
“I'll do my best, miss.”
“Oh, my God! Stop calling me Miss.”
“What are the ladies called today?”
Isabel saw her sister’s expression.
“Juan Carlos, ladies are scarce nowadays.” The man looked very confused. “My sister is not a 'Miss'.”
Both women laughed.
“Who were you calling 'ladies' in your day?”
“Young ladies of good manners. The decent ones. Those who were virgins,” he interrupted. “Oh! I understand. So you're a widow?”
Isabel was silent. She remembered Luke and for a moment she felt lost because yes, that was what she felt like: a widow.
“No, Juan.” Her sister caught his eye. “Isabel is not a widow, but today, women do not keep their virginity for the man they are going to marry. Today it is natural to have an active sex life, with the partner of their choice. We do not need to be married or engaged to have sex.”
Juan Carlos opened his eyes in surprise and then relaxed his expression.
“In our time, that rule was not completely fulfilled; sometimes the young girls gave themselves to their fiancées before getting married but always in top secret. Women who had an active life, as you have said, were only those who were paid for sex. I always thought they were much happier than the others.”
Isabel saw him smile. He was handsome.
She poured some wine into her glass and then did the same with the rest of the family, except the little girl, who she served natural orange juice.
“Thank you,” he said, and then continued with his opinion. I always saw them singing, happy, especially after having a 'good night' as they say. Then I saw my mother so serious, so demure...” He sighed. “My Cecilia was different; it was like she was from a different time.”
“Were you married?” Isabel interrupted, impeding her sister who had shown signs of wanting to talk.
It was surprising to her, how come he had not told them about his wife last night?
Didn’t he miss her?
He gave her a look full of memories and sadness.
Maybe she should have kept her mouth shut and not stir up the poor man's past.
“I lost her.”
“Oh I'm sorry!” Said Isabel, and then her sister and brother-in-law corroborated.
The thing she didn’t understand was Isabel wanted to know how he lost her although she didn’t dare ask.
“The night she would give birth to our first child.”
She had to stop wanting to know more about him because his life was a tragedy and she would end up completely depressed between his immortality and her pain for having lost Luke.
She saw her sister put a hand to her breast.
“Do not worry,” he said, meeting her eyes. “I loved her deeply and could never forget how happy she made me, but life continued and I had to overcome her death and that of our son.”
An uncomfortable silence seized the place for a few seconds.
“Well, how about we eat away the nostalgic memories and then keep talking about this?” Carlota was good at getting people to focus on something else when they were sad.
Carlota cooked and Edward began to serve her oven roasted chicken as Isabel refilled everyone’s glass.
She watched Juan Carlos for a few minutes, he noticed that she was watching him, but was not intimidated. She was curious to see how he ate.
She imagined him eating like a savage, as they did on those TV series when they represented the men and women of that time.
She was not mistaken because Juan intended to take the entire chicken thigh in his hand, but seeing no one else did, the immortal paid close attention, especially to Edward and then began to imitate him.
Isabel smiled and at that moment he looked up fixing his gaze with hers.
***
What a fascinating woman! Juan Carlos thought as she held his gaze with a subtle smile drawn on her lips.
She was beautiful. There was no doubt about that. Although he would like to see her without so much color on her face. Surely she was a dazzling natural beauty.
He had no idea how people ate and their customs might not be the same as in modern times, as their saviors said. Since leaving the house this morning, he decided to imitate Edward in times when he did not know what to do.
Less when it came to helping women with the tasks they were assigned to. It would take a long time to understand that new way of life because he was not very accustomed to it. He never saw his father helping his mother set the table or taking care of babies as Edward did.
That was not seen in his times and the truth was, although it would take time to adapt to everything, what he discovered so far it was very pleasing.
He saw Edward enjoying his daughter and taking care of her with such eagerness that he called the men of his time fools to lose those moments with their children.
As well as the knowing looks Carlota and her husband exchanged when they were in the kitchen and setting the table; reminded him of the discreet but seductive looks his dear Cecilia gave him when they were in public.
He even liked knowing that women were no longer considered good or bad depending on whether they were virgins or not.
He always thought differently but never showed it because it was not viewed well to think differently, especially with those issues involving sex and women.
The chicken was juicy and the bread was very different from his time.
“Alfonso was delighted with Juan.” Edward broke the silence of the diners.
“I know a lot about planting. It was what my father, my brother and I did before falling into disgrace. I taught him some tricks.”
“You didn’t tell him where Juan Carlos came from?”
Edward shook his head.
Juan Carlos felt a knot in his stomach.
“If you don’t mind, I'd rather you keep my secret.”
He looked them all in the eye. Carlota smiled at him with compassion.
“Don’t worry, Juan. We could say you came from South America; after all, there are many Spaniards there. Although you have a very distinct accent –Carlota peered at her husband–, perhaps it’s best to say that he is from here and we have contacted Juan because some of his relatives are friends of ours in New York.”
“Where is that located?”
“The new continent,” Isabel added unimportantly.
“I once heard something in relation to the new continent,” he replied.
After asking where he was, Juan Carlos was no longer uncertain about his current location when he went with Edward that morning.
The Alfonso’s estate was not far from The Alcalá Orange Grove, and on the way, Juan Carlos saw only fields. Of course he was surprised with how today’s roads were. No more than the shock of discovering Ed's car.
He liked it. Ed told him that in a few weeks, when he was more adapted to his new life, he would teach him to drive it.
Even if they gave him a good horse he would be happy.
“I think we should go to the city to buy clothes,” Carlota said, looking at her husband.
“That's fine,” Edward said. “But maybe the poor man wants to rest. Your night has not been easier than ours, and you must be exhausted,” Edward finished, meeting his eyes.
“For me, there is no problem regarding rest.” The immortal smiled wryly. “I had all eternity, I have been resting for a long time.”
There was a moment of uneasy silence between them.
“Juan Carlos, do you know how to read and write?” Carlota broke the silence.
“Yes, ma'am, although I don’t know if it will be the same now,” they all laughed. “Not everyone knew how to read and write. It was a privilege for some in those times. Especially for royalty and those who had a lot of money. The others, were destined to live without the education of letters because for us time was money and we had to help the family economically. We were lucky that my mother got the knowledge from her older sister and she made us study the letters to be better men.”
She smiled at him.
“There are so many things I want you to tell me about your time!” Said his angel and savior again.
He dabbed his mouth and took a sip of wine.
“Why do you want to know so much?”
“She's a writer,” Isabel said. “She’s looking for information for her new novel.” Isabel paused at his expression. “She writes stories, tales, fiction. I do not know what they called it in your day.”
“I see.” He observed Isabel, a smile playing on his lips. It was funny to see how this woman, despite annoying him, was looking for a way to explain things to him.
He considered what she had said and became very afraid. It must have been conveyed on his face because Carlota calmed him by saying.
“Don't worry Juan, I won’t reveal your identity. I promise.”
He knew he could trust her and everyone in that house.
“My fear is the inquisitors finding me again.”
“There are no inquisitors, seriously, we told you last night, and this morning I ratified it,” Edward said, smiling. “Well, there are no public ones as you knew. Who knows if they are still hidden by the Catholic Church.”
“People’s faith have changed a lot,” Isabel began. “Today people seek peace and God inside themselves, not in a church. The church has lost a lot of power. Now you can go against them freely and nothing will happen to you.”
Juan felt something pressing against his chest.
Was it anguish?
“Do you feel okay?”
“Yes, yes.” It was not anguish, it was emotion. “I believe I'm happy to have come out of that coffin at this time. Maybe things do happen for a reason. I stopped believing in God when I begged him with my entire soul, and all my faith, to please save me from the hands of those men who tortured me for so long. Then I asked him to kill me some fucking way because I was going crazy inside that stone box,” he snorted. “Looks like he heard me a little too late.”
Isabel looked at him with pity.
He smiled half-heartedly, and she averted her gaze.
“I'm really sorry, truly,” Carlota replied, as sympathetic as she had been since seeing him for the first time.
He sighed deeply.
“But I'm here now.” He tried to smile with joy, “and I would love to see the changes in the city.”