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Francisco woke up suddenly with choppy breath.
He was drenched in sweat and trembling with fear.
Nonetheless, he just had another nightmare involving the accursed inquisitor who tortured him continuously. In the nightmare he was being tortured when suddenly a blinding light appeared and the lady from a few days ago appeared. The one Manuel frightened away with his shotgun.
He lay back on the bed, trying to calm his breathing. He was very thirsty.
He got up to get a bottle of water from the small refrigerator in his room. He went out onto the terrace.
By the time he finished drinking the water, he was calmer. The sun was rising. Some workers were already beginning to wander around the estate, starting their work day. The pool water invited him to swim as it did every morning.
He could feel the season’s typical temperature change, but it didn’t bother Francisco. He knew nothing was going to happen to him by entering the pool. During the winter, he wore neoprene suits for his employees who scrutinized him respectfully but with an expression that indicated what they thought: that he was crazy to go swimming in the winter.
He went back into his room and entered the bathroom. He took a quick shower, put on his neoprene suit, cap, picked up his swimming goggles and went down.
He was grateful not to find anyone on his way. He did not feel like being sociable this morning.
He dove into the pool and swam for almost an hour. He would have swam a little longer but in a bit the house would have employees coming and going and he shouldn’t be so exposed.
He thought of Manuel, since the day of the incident, he had not visited him. He thought it would be nice to have breakfast with the man. He liked to sit and talk with Manuel. They spoke of past times, wars, and famines. Even though he was an old grouch, Francisco had a special affection for him.
On the day of the incident with the woman, he stayed a little longer with him hardly speaking a word. The man knew when Francisco only wanted a little company. He liked his discretion and above all, he liked the solitude surrounding the man. He was like him, only Manuel had the advantage he could never have: Death.
Today, Francisco could not stop thinking about the woman and what she wanted.
Manuel told him the other day, another woman showed up. He also shooed her with his shotgun. It was the only way old Manuel had to drive people away. What’s more, after the orders given by Francisco, it was the first time he had to scare someone.
Francisco snorted amusedly at the thought of Manuel being a serious threat with the weapon. He would have to be a bit more specific as to whom he aimed at.
When he entered his room again, breakfast was already served on the terrace. He ate a piece of bread immediately and then called the kitchen using the house phone. He wanted them to collect his breakfast and pack an extra while he was showering.
It was not the first time they did this. The woman, who would take care of his request, would put everything in plastic containers inside a canvas bag and give it to Rodrigo. Rodrigo would have everything ready for Francisco to leave. The horse would be saddled and the canvas bag ready to go.
Rodrigo was the only one who knew where Francisco went with the meal.
“Good morning,” the foreman greeted him, and Francisco answered in kind.
“I don’t know what time I'll return. I feel like riding and talking to Manuel.”
Rodrigo nodded.
“Have a good day, sir.”
“You too, Rodrigo.”
Francisco stroked Scout before spurring him. The animal took his order with care and rode at a steady pace to the path leading to Manuel's house. He knew he would find him pouring a second cup of coffee. Old Manuel hardly slept and got up long before dawn.
Upon arriving at the ruined property, he saw the car that belonged to the woman Manuel shot at was parked a few meters from the house.
“Whoa!” He whispered to Scout. The animal slowed to a halt.
Francisco led him into the small forest separating the estate from Manuel’s house and decided to tether the animal to one of the trees. With urgency, he covertly approached the run down house to be able to observe closer what had called her attention.
He feared Manuel coming out again with his gun and this time actually shooting the young woman. However, from her position, she could see the old man at the back of the property, pulling the weeds growing between his aromatic plants.
A bad memory of the time he had to do the same, among other horrendous things to get rid of the inquisitors, invaded his mind. Damn memories would never leave him in peace.
The woman left a basket with something inside.
She checked her surroundings to make sure she was not being watched.
She approached one of the windows to try to look inside but considering her frustrated expression, Francisco deduced she couldn’t see anything.
She was beautiful.
He couldn’t see her clearly due to being some distance from her, but he didn’t have to inspect her with a magnifying glass to see she was a beautiful woman.
She wore jeans, a white cotton shirt and canvas shoes. Francisco smiled at the woman’s intelligence. She was dressed with precaution. She didn’t carry her purse, and her car keys were at the ready if necessary.
A clever girl.
She knew if the situation changed and Manuel came out with his shotgun, she would have to run to save her life.
What did the woman want with his property? Why the insistent visiting?
Without realizing it, he stepped on a dry branch that snapped immediately alerting the woman who, without thinking, focused in to where Francisco was hiding.
He crouched more, just like felines when they made a mistake and alerted their prey. He stood there in the shadows, wanting to surprise and interrogate her.
However, he knew if he left his hiding place, the lady would flee in terror and he wouldn’t get any information from her.
The woman took a deep breath and continued to look around. She hurried to where she left her car.
When he heard the engine start, he went to the door of the property to see what she had left.
He heard Scout’s protest for leaving him tied to the tree.
“I'm going now, my friend,” he said in a voice almost like a whisper.
He was surprised when he reached the door and looked on the porch. He smiled at the basket’s contents.
A bottle of good scotch, cigars and a whole range of chocolates.
Few things piqued Francisco’s curiosity, with his years or rather, centuries lived, and he had lost the capacity to be curious about human actions.
However, this woman managed to light that spark and it made him smile. Something he hadn’t done in centuries.
What was she up to? And how had she managed to get Manuel’s three favorite things right?