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At what point would a human being succumb and after enduring how much pain?
Juan Carlos would never know. He could not let himself be carried away by the pain until he simply died.
No.
He didn’t die, or at least he didn’t die from the pain.
He didn’t go insane either. Although he was tempted several times. He tried to isolate his mind and take refuge in the good memories he had of his family, his life before falling into the hands of the inquisitors. Perhaps that drove him to the brink of insanity, but it was never achieved.
They remained as memories.
He also decided to fast for much longer than he had before. He was already to the point where it did not matter if they thought he had agreed to eternal life with Satan.
It was true. He didn’t know if it was thanks to Satan, his mother gave him eternal life with the potion, but he didn’t want to hide it anymore.
He was tired of the abuse and wanted them to try something more drastic. He wanted to challenge them to use knives on his body. Maybe he could be bled dry and reach what he longed for: death.
“I want to confess,” he shouted to the inquisitor as he was being tortured on a rack. His wrists and ankles were tied with ropes twisting progressively through a lever causing intense pain and dislocating Juan Carlos's shoulders again.
“Stop!” The Inquisitor ordered the executioner. “What do you want to confess?” He asked Juan Carlos.
The tortured man was relieved when the executioner stopped. Although the pain in his arms almost drove him crazy, the relief made him feel the situation would be over soon.
He just had to confess and they would kill him.
I beg you, sir, please kill me, he thought.
“I have agreed with the devil,” he answered his voice trembling as the inquisitor showed a great deal of interest in each of the defendant's words. “He agreed to give me eternal life in return for his becoming his servant. I acceded and I have served as a weapon to do much harm to men and women —he had to invent many things to go straight to the bonfire. I deserve to die immediately. I want God's forgiveness for being a traitor. I regret everything I've done. Save me.”
The inquisitor smiled sadistically.
“There is no eternal life by the fire of God,” the Inquisitor viewed him with disgust and hatred. “The hand of the Almighty will be merciless to you for selling yourself to Satan. The defendant repents, so we will give him death by garrote vile before his body is consumed in the flames. Prepare everything,” he said to the guards, clerk, and executioner. “This afternoon there will be a bonfire.”
Peace enveloped Juan Carlos at that moment, and he hoped between the garrote vile and the fire, he would be wiped out once and for all.
***
That afternoon was the second time, in his life, that Juan Carlos prayed non-stop. He only thought of all the suffering he had endured in these last months was finally over.
Terrified? Of course he was. Considering that was his natural state since he was imprisoned, he did not realize that his hands shook uncontrollably, he had goose bumps due to the cold chill running through his entire body or the way his teeth chattered.
He could only hear his voice and he only concentrated on the prayer coming from his throat.
Although he did not notice, the people around him were euphoric watching the defendants being placed in the wood piles in which they would be burned very soon.
The public was disgusted at those condemned to death. They threw rubbish, stones and spit on them.
Juan Carlos was not aware of anything. He concentrated harder on his prayer as he began to smell burnt wood and scorched flesh. He knew his turn would come soon.
Before an executioner's servant lit the pile of wood Juan Carlos had at his feet, he sensed footsteps approaching him. It was his turn. He was grateful.
He could not turn his head because it was fastened by a strap to the wooden pole to which he was tied. In a few seconds he would experience death by the garrote vil.
The executioner introduced an iron cylinder with a sharp point, through a hole in the wood at Juan Carlos’ nape.
The other end of the cylinder contained an iron ball so the executioner could turn the weapon easier.
Juan Carlos felt the prick at the back of his neck and took a deep breath.
The executioner did his job. He nailed the rotating stake through the prisoner's neck, causing Juan Carlos's cervical to break. In theory, a cerebral coma would occur with instant death. Apparently, it did not work that way for Juan Carlos, who was suffocating while listening to the clamor of those present, celebrating his instant “death”.
He tried to speak. He needed to tell the executioner to nail the stake further because he had not yet died. He did not feel pain. It was as if he had been disconnected from his nerve endings.
Despondent, he prayed again for the fire to finish killing him.
A blazing heat suddenly invaded him and he felt the flames rise from his feet to his head, enveloping him with great momentum.
Within a few seconds, he confidently surrendered to the fog around him and let the flames guide him to the path that would lead him directly to death.
***
Several hours later, when the embers and what remained of the charred bodies cooled a little, the guards began to clean the whole scene.
The Inquisitor ordered that whatever remains left of the bodies to be buried in a pit in the field, as usual.
There were no longer any curious people in the square. The show was over so there was no point in staying there. These people’s morbidity was satisfied with the cries and suffering of the condemned. Once they were satisfied, they no longer cared about the rest. They had enough gossip to spread and enjoy from the pain of others.
That was how things worked back then.
The heat was so intense, parts of the limbs had disappeared and the rest fell apart. Two of the bodies the guards withdrew, fell apart.
However, one of the bodies was quite strange.
They pulled him out of the blackened pile and took him immediately to the executioner.
He called the doctor.
“That's impossible,” the doctor said, his eyes wide as he surveyed the unrecognizable body lying on the floor. “He has vital signs.”
“What are you saying?” The executioner asked enraged. “Call the inquisitor, it is urgent that he comes.”
The inquisitor entered the room quickly. His face was filled with a mixture of terror and rage.
“He's alive,” the executioner informed him with concern.
“Then we'll have to find another way to kill him.” He smiled wickedly. “Maybe it's time to start testing all those torture devices that are ready to be used when the law permits. The man licked his lips. His expression and his sadistic look indicated that he was relishing the suffering he would cause the fire’s survivor.
There were many methods of torture not yet allowed because, to date, torture in which any body part was mutilated or where blood was spilled was prohibited.
“Put him in his cell and keep him under surveillance,” he ordered the guards and the doctor. “Prepare the North Wing's torture room,” he ordered the executioner, the latter smiled, making it clear that he wanted to use the mysterious torture room.
***
Juan Carlos coughed a couple of times. His mouth seemed like he swallowed sandpaper and his lungs ached as he tried to breathe deeply.
He opened his eyes a little and when he looked around a strong pressure gripped his chest.
He was back in his cell.
He survived the fire.
Panic gripped him and he began to scream loudly. His lungs burned.
His skin also burned like hell itself.
The doctor entered the cell immediately.
Juan Carlos reflected the doctor’s look of horror. The man couldn’t stop thinking about what Juan Carlos could do to him being Satan’s servant.
“You're getting better quickly,” the doctor said cautiously.
Juan Carlos sat up. The cell’s dim light of the cell allowed him to see his body was covered with hideous wounds that seemed to be boiling.
He studied them with curiosity.
“Yes,” said the doctor. “Every bubble is real and it is what has regenerated your whole body.”
Juan Carlos didn’t want to know anything else.
He sat in a corner of the cell as tears of frustration and fear commenced to fall.
***
Thanks to Juan Carlos’ memories, the trip to the past session left Carlota somewhat disorientated today.
She could not help thinking this poor man was a saint because to have lived through so many injustices there was not a trace of vengeance in his soul.
She, in his place, would have ended the holy church already. Nothing could kill her. She could go through life a ruthless vigilante without any problem.
Juan Carlos was different. A saint, she thought again as they walked through the crowded downtown.
The Fallas, or festivals, started and the whole city was a hive of people.
They had already been able to appreciate everything Alfonso and Catalina recommended they see of the celebrations. Today, they were in the Plaza de la Virgen, watching the parade of the falleros with the offering for the city’s patron saint.
The Virgin of the Desamparados was immense. =It occupied almost the entire square and the flowers offered by the Falleros were making its majestic clothing possible.
A show that Carlota was happy to experience herself and to safeguard her memory of every moment to use in her novel that was going well.
She was satisfied. The story was going great and she was writing it in record time. Never before had she been so inspired. In harmony with herself and with everyone around her.
Her daughter smiled mischievously at the same time her husband pulled her close and kissed her on the cheek.
Alfonso and Catalina participated in the parade today, with the rest of their families. It was a tradition worthy of admiration and they were very proud.
The women's attire was dazzling. Refined and sophisticated dresses, made by the best fashion designers in the city; with silver headdresses. They all wore the hairstyle that reminded her of Princess Leia.
“Did the people look like this in your time, Juan?” Isabel asked the immortal and Carlota wanted to pinch her.
“No,” he smiled, amused. He wished they were half as clean and tidy as now.
Isabel looked disgusted.
Carlota rolled her eyes to the sky.
“What do you want?” Edward asked in her ear.
“Do you believe it?” She asked in disbelief.
“That's obvious, honey.”
“Well, she has not mentioned Luke for days.”
Isabel turned to her sister.
“Did you say something?”
“No,” Carlota said seriously. “It was incredible how she could hear that idiot’s name from miles away.”
Yes, she would love to be a vigilante thirsty for revenge. She’d finish Luke for damn good.
“She’s different, don’t you see?”
“Well, yes,” Carlota said, “but she still thinks about that idiot, I'm sure.”
“Juan Carlos likes her. He told me a few days ago.”
Carlota was surprised, “And you're just telling me now?”
Edward smirked.
“I had forgotten.”
The writer turned to observe her sister. She had not put on heavy make-up for days, and most of the time she was in her white converse. Her sister's favorite shoes until she met Luke. How he couldn’t stand a woman in sneakers, so she got rid of them.
She gained a little weight and if she thought about it, she smiled more.
“She's stopped talking about Luke for several days, I noticed, too,” her husband said in secret “and Juan Carlos told me that she hardly ever calls him on her cell phone.”
Rejoice bubbled inside Carlota.
It would be wonderful if she forgot that jerk for good and even better if she could fall in love with someone decent like Juan Carlos.
Although she did not want him to get hurt due to her sister's rudeness. Carlota was taking great care of the immortal and considered him like family.
She looked at the blinding innocence in his eyes.
She never asked anyone for anything, but maybe she could start right now.
Yes, she would ask for her sister and Juan Carlos to find happiness.
***
Juan Carlos was amazed with everything he saw today.
The color was spectacular and the perfection with which they made those giant monuments called Ninots.
How different it was to his time! None of this existed. On the day of San José, carpenters used to light a fire to burn wood chips in their workshops. Some claimed it served as purification of the spring equinox but little of it could be proven because whoever did it was taken before the law as a heretic.
He wanted to interpret everything he saw. A river of people passed celebrating, laughing, and enjoying a tradition that deserved admiration. All that work, the dedication in realizing some monuments so impressive to burn them on the night of San Jose. It seemed a brutal waste of time, material and talent to him. He would have invented a giant museum to display those pieces of art. Although if he thought about it, their actions were logical. It would be impossible to acquire a museum capable of housing the gigantic pieces displayed on every street in the city year after year.
The locals were dressed in their typical costumes, smiling, proud of their tradition. Happy to be part of it. Juan Carlos was very happy today.
After watching the parade for several hours and the offerings to the patroness of the city, they decided to go to the Plaza de la Reina, where Alfonso recommended they look for the Horchatería Santa Catalina street vendor. There they could eat churros, pumpkin fritters and drink good hot chocolate.
It was the best that Juan Carlos had eaten until that day and he had to keep in mind in the Alcalá's house he ate very well, but those crunchy churros and spongy fritters bathed in the thick and sweet chocolate, were no comparison with anything Juan could have tried from modern times.
They ate until they burst.
Alicia, was full of chocolate and had sugar rush, although her parents claimed she would soon fall dead, was uncontrolled. The way she ran and laughed when Isabel played and chased her said otherwise.
Late in the evening, Carlota and Edward decided they had enough walking for one day. They caught their little girl and disappeared in the crowd. They went home.
Juan thought about taking a break. He needed it. It had been days since he slept well and with the added work of planting, he really was exhausted.
Seeing Isabel so happy, smiling, injected him with energy to continue.
The night was cool, Isabel walked silently beside him with her arms folded across her chest.
“Where are you taking me?” Juan asked mischievously.
She looked him straight in the eyes and gave him a mischievous smile.
“To have fun,” She said. “Alfonso said one of these streets was lit with amazing lights and had a game emphasizing on the phrase 'big fun'. Although the truth is I am exhausted.”
They both laughed.
“Then I propose we explore a little and then sit down somewhere to have a few beers.”
“I'm delighted, and my feet are more delighted than I am.”
They laughed again.
“The number of people on the street was impressive, although New York is like this almost all the time.”
He viewed her with curiosity.
“Are there Fallas in New York, too?”
She laughed. Juan loved that sound.
“Oh! No! There are no Fallas in New York, Juan. I promise soon we will go so you can visit. It's a wonderful city.” Isabel pulled out her cell phone and her hands began to shake. Not precisely because of the vibration. “Excuse me, Juan, I have to answer this.”
Juan nodded and stood beside her. He complied with the courtesy of stepping away a little. Enough so she would perceive 'privacy' but at the same time allowing him to hear what she said. He had a feeling the caller was the same man who made her suffer so much.
He grew very angry. It was unthinkable to him that a woman as special as Isabel would be hurt that way.
She answered and Juan Carlos cursed a thousand times because she was speaking in a language he did not know, English?
Damn it! He could not understand anything she said, though her tone was quite indifferent.
He had to learn to speak English. He would ask Edward to teach him.
He had to stop being stupid. He had wanted to win her heart for some time now. He felt each time he was holding less but he wanted more. He could not afford the man in another country to snatch the woman he wanted to have at his side.
He would die just to kiss her.
It had to start now. He could not let it go any longer.
She hung up the phone.
“All good?” Juan Carlos asked curiously.
She just snorted and nodded.
They walked in silence until reaching the street with the famous lights.
It was quite a spectacle. Metal arches adorned the street with path of multi-colored lights that danced to the rhythm of deafening music.
Juan Carlos felt a little stunned. He began to feel dizzy among so many people.
He turned his head trying to anchor his sight to a point to help stabilize his eyesight. That was when he realized he was separated from Isabel.
Damn it!
He continued to advance through the crowd. Suddenly, someone took his hand and pulled him out of the river of people.
He recognized that soft, delicate hand at once.
It was Isabel.
She was laughing.
“I have not been in a river of people like that for years.”
“I could spend a few more years without it.”
They both laughed.
“Are you okay?” She looked at him so sweetly that he had a mad impulse to hug her and kiss her until he was exhausted.
They were still holding hands.
He pulled her a little closer.
He felt her body stiffen as he moved closer to her.
He caressed her face gently and timidly kissed the back of her hand that was intertwined with his.
He gave her a half smile.
“I'm fine, Isa.”
She continued to watch him. Her eyes struggled not to show more than they should, but that night, among the crowd and the racket, Juan Carlos saw a ray of hope in Isabel's eyes.
There was no time to lose. He would win her.
***
Isabel kept her eyes on Juan Carlos. She felt hypnotized. Those black pearls shone under thick eyebrows the same color. They turned on all the alert and security systems she had in her organism.
What the hell was going on tonight?
She received an unexpected call from Luke that had her dismayed due to his sudden change in attitude.
He told her that he needed her and wanted to be with her again. He even mentioned he would fly to Spain that same night. Something happened that even she didn’t expect, she refused. She did not know exactly what the hell had happened but he seemed like another person. She told Luke not to call her anymore, to stay in New York because she had no intentions of going back to him. She wanted to start a new life in which he was not included.
Did she want to cry? It almost exploded like a water fountain and for that reason she did not talk to Juan Carlos when he asked if everything was okay. If she opened her mouth, she would surely burst into tears like a fool. She was tired of crying for Luke so, in her silence, she swallowed the huge knot forming in her throat. She almost repented and called Luke to tell him she was an idiot for refusing him. She would take the first flight to New York to be with him because he still loved him, but every thought dissolved into the sight of Juan Carlos when he kissed her hand.
Seriously, what the hell was going on tonight?
“I think we should go,” she said to Juan, not looking away.
He smiled.
“No. Let's have a beer; maybe later we'll have more churros. We'll stay until they turn on the figures. I want to see how it happens.”
Was the universe sending her a signal?
Well, what else could it be? Luke could wait. She had the right to have fun. She always stopped doing everything she liked to please Luke. Not today, besides, she had to be cautious. She was in a much better mood now that she understood her ex was very unstable and could sink her into a depression the following week when her security of his love was questionable.
Isabel felt a knot in her stomach.
Luke never told her he loved her. Never. Not even just now when he called her to express how unhappy he was because she was not with him. He always said: I need you, I want you.
But never I love you'.
The truth was you can love your dog, your neighbor, a friend, but the person with whom you want to spend the rest of your life with, you have to love them —and with capital letters— because with cohabitation and the day to day problems are only overcome if there is real love.
Isabel sighed again as they entered a bar that appeared to be about to collapse with the number of people inside.
The humidity inside was unbearable. She still did not understand how in Europe they refused to use an ideal temperature inside establishments, so it was winter. In that case, air conditioning was urgently needed.
She didn’t understand how there were people who didn’t know about the use of body deodorants. Things like these slowed her adaption to the European country.
Juan Carlos purchased a caña.
“Let's toast,” he suggested, raising his voice a little.
She smiled at him
“To what?”
“Thanks to your sister's curiosity, I can be here, now, by your side.”
A swarm of bees could suddenly be felt in her stomach.
She blushed.
The immortal liked it but it was not fair to use it ‘once in a while' when he was so good at doing that to her.
“Why don’t you tell me what’s bothering you, Isabel?”
“For that I need a week while living inside the Horchatería surrounded by churros and hot chocolate.”
“Done.”
He took her hand and raced her out of the bar. They almost ran across the streets and in a few minutes, they were at the famous Horchateria.
It was bustling with people, but Juan Carlos had learned, in a very short time several things from Edward about modern times. He called a waitress and gave her a good tip for getting them a table, churros, fritters and chocolate in less than five minutes.
The waitress surprised Isabel. No more than her surprise with his impulsive reaction to satisfy his curiosity.
Why did he go through so much trouble to know about her life?
What did he want to know about her past?
“Juan, why are you doing all this? Why do you want to know my problems?”
“Oh! My dear, Isabel,” he said as he took her hand again and brought her gently to him. He kissed the top of her head. After a sigh he said, “I want your heart to heal so you can see that I am very interested in you being by my side.”
Isabel thought her legs would fail in this moment. She clung to Juan Carlos as if she were trying to save herself.
Could that be?
Could Juan Carlos be her salvation?
***
The immortal thanked someone around him for saying it was almost time to light the bonfire. That made him lower his guard a little regarding what Isabel’s sadness was producing.
He hoped he never ran into this Luke. The truth was he hoped he did because every time he thought about such a miserable being, he wanted to punch him good a couple of times to teach him how to be a man and treat a woman like her with dignity and delicacy.
He encouraged Isabel up and hurried her to the most impressive monument, in his opinion, the one in town hall square.
Isabel explained the giant perfect lion had the world under its feet to represented the strength humanity could have.
Her idea didn’t seem far-fetched.
He was struck by how magnificent it was.
There was a loud detonation like an explosion and Juan Carlos could not avoid running to a safe place. He doubled over to protect himself from the attack he thought they were suffering.
Unconsciously, he dragged Isabel to him when saw the large question mark on her face.
“What happened?” Isabel asked.
“Can’t you hear us being bombed?”
His heart was racing.
Isabel erupted into laughter.
He caressed her face gently and Juan Carlos thought that this was how people must feel when they talked about 'floating'.
“They're called fireworks. In Spain they are called firecrackers. They are not bombs, although they are as dangerous. This is a cultural act, the authorities have taken preventive measures so that no one gets hurt. You do not have to be afraid.”
Juan Carlos took a deep breath, at that moment the city’s sky began to illuminate with bursts of colored lights.
Juan Carlos could not believe his eyes.
It was beautiful. Although the noise continued to frighten him. The closer they got to City Hall the more nervous he became.
The air began to fill with a thick cloud and a strange odor. His eyes began to burn.
After a few minutes of watching the lights in the sky, they announced the burning of the fantastic monument was about to begin.
He was sad at the thought of burning it. The statue was very beautiful.
A spark began on one of the surrounding buildings’ balconies descending a cable full of firecrackers that were exploding nonstop. It reached the top of the feline figure crowned with a dove trapped in sparkling flames causing the figure to burn from head to base.
In the beginning, the spectacle was impressive for Juan Carlos. When the fire settled inside the figure it illuminated dimly for a brief moment in the abundant feline mane and then, almost in a blink, the flames began to devour it changing the image from amazing to nightmarish.
When the flames engulfed the animal and began to grow, the image brought back Juan Carlos’ memories of being burned in the bonfire.
His breathing became shallow.
His vision blurred as he remembered the infernal episode that he had lived through so many years ago. His body refused to forget how the flames wrapped around his melting skin and producing a foul odor.
His hands began to tremble and a knot lodged in his throat.
“What is it, Juan?” Isabel looked at him frightened.
“Get me out of here please, I beg you.”
***
People were starting to look at him strangely.
Juan Carlos watched the bonfire with genuine terror on his face.
Isabel was about to panic also, she did not know how to deal with this type of reaction.
She took his hand and did as the immortal pleaded.
The whole city was submerged in chaos due to the bonfires. Every street had a flaw, surely they would find another bonfire burning and it was not helping that Juan Carlos had already began to look around with the characteristic panic of someone being pursued.
“Take it easy, Juan. Let's get out of here.”
Isabel was desperate to get to where cars were once again traveling through the street. She left hers parked away from there and with the condition Juan was in, it was best to take a taxi and get away from all the chaos as soon as possible.
That was what they did.
“We're getting out of town. Calm down, please.”
She asked Juan as he still looked around with fear.
He rubbed his hands in anguish. She felt her stomach twitch. How many things this poor man had lived through to suffer the terror that beset him at the moment.
She took both his hands and pulled them apart, wrapping one of the immortal's arms around her neck and letting her head rest on his chest.
Her heart was beating wildly.
“We're fine. We are okay.”
She caressed his chest gently.
He buried his nose in her black hair. He drew in a deep breath and pressed her hard against his chest.
She raised her face gently.
“I'm sorry,” he whispered. His voice still trembled. “I didn’t want to let you down, but I had bad memories I couldn’t control.”
He had nothing to apologize for. He was not guilty of the horrors that marked his infinite existence.
They met each other's eyes for a few seconds.
Isabel enjoyed the immortal’s appearance. So intense. Sometimes serene, sometimes agitated —as at the moment— but always captivating.
She tucked her head back into his chest and felt calmer as she felt the immortal's pulse take a more rhythmic pace.
He kissed her on the crown and she smiled.
She didn’t know why, but she liked when he did that.
She was grateful they repaired the iron gate entrance to the estate. Fortunately, after a good treatment, it was like new and with an automatic mechanism left it like any modern gate. They took the precaution of opening it with a remote control and it had a numerical key in case the control was not available. As was the case, the control was inside her car, in the city.
He punched in the code and they entered.
They walked slowly, holding hands.
Isabel did not quite understand what was happening to her. She still had feelings for Luke, though she could not express exactly what they were because, for the first time in a long time, she realized it was not love. It seemed like; after all, time did heal all wounds inflicted by lack of love, even though she had recently broken up with Luke.
Perhaps the wear and tear of so many years helped her to quickly overcome her misery. She felt sadness when she thought of Luke but she was sure it was not love and that's why he acted the way he did when he called her.
She didn’t regret it.
No.
It was very true she could not spend her life waiting for Luke. She didn’t want that for herself.
He peered at Juan Carlos.
Sigh.
Juan Carlos stopped when they reached the house’s door and squeezed her tightly against his body.
The surprise hug confused Isabel more. She felt comfortable in his arms.
Very comfortable.
He stroked her back and she snuggled a little closer. She felt how tense the immortal’s body remained.
“Are you still nervous?”
He nodded and let out a sigh.
“If you want to— Isabel broke off when he began to say something.
She separated a little from him, it was necessary to look him in the face.
They smiled a knowing smile.
“You give me peace, Isabel.”
Isabel felt herself blush.
“So how come you're still nervous?”
He smiled wickedly.
“I’m determined to kiss you tonight.”
He approached her and barely touched Isabel's lips.
That was enough for her knees to tremor and an uncontrolled desire that in this moment she hoped would never end. The immortal showed her the act would last as long as she liked as he invaded her mouth with serenity and sweetness.
Then she understood.
Juan Carlos liked her more than she believed.