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Tell Me Who I Am

Page 72

by Julia Navarro


  As for Don Armando, he spoiled his two grandchildren as much as he could. Isabel was a very kind child, always ready to smile at her grandfather. As for little Juanito, we all prayed that he would recover as soon as possible, but it was hard for him to put on weight, and he had frequent attacks of diarrhea, which worried Don Eusebio.

  7

  In May 1943 Javier broke his leg. He was seven years old and very handsome. Blond and slim, with green eyes, he was a rascal who ran Águeda ragged. She was incapable of stopping him from climbing the trees in the Retiro, even though they were too large and too tall for him. But Javier was like a squirrel, twisting his way through the branches in the face of Águeda’s horrified entreaties for him to come down, or else she would tell his father. But Javier had inherited Amelia’s rebellious temperament and he would not let himself be swayed by a threat that he knew kindhearted Águeda would not carry out, so he climbed up as high as he could.

  One Saturday morning we went with Amelia to the Retiro so that she could see Javier, as she had done before. The day before, Amelia had sent Edurne to wait outside Santiago’s house for Águeda to come out, to ask when she could see her child. They had agreed to meet at ten o’clock the next morning.

  Jesús and I used to go with Amelia, because Doña Elena did not like to think of Amelia out walking alone and maybe meeting Santiago, which would cause trouble. We would take advantage of this to bring a ball and play soccer, whereas Antonietta would normally bring a book, although ever since Melita began living with us she had liked taking care of Isabel, who enjoyed running around the park.

  We sat down on a bench not too far from Águeda, Javier, and Paloma.

  Amelia watched Javier without losing sight of him. He was particularly rebellious that day and refused to obey Águeda. He had chosen a leafy tree with many branches for his climbing exploits, and started to climb it, without paying attention to Águeda’s entreaties.

  “His hands must be torn to shreds from so much climbing, maybe he should wear gloves, I don’t know why Águeda doesn’t think of it,” Amelia said.

  Jesús and I started to play soccer without paying attention to Javier, while Antonietta kept Isabel entertained with a rag doll that Doña Elena had made.

  Suddenly Amelia screamed and ran away. We were scared and followed her.

  Javier had fallen out of the tree and was groaning with pain while Águeda screamed and didn’t know what to do.

  Amelia pushed Águeda out of the way and took Javier in her arms.

  “Where does it hurt? Tell me, my son, where does it hurt?” she asked, her eyes filling with tears.

  “My leg... my leg hurts a lot, I can’t move it... and my arm, but my leg hurts the most...”

  Javier cried and his knee began quickly to swell. Amelia wasn’t listening to anything Águeda was saying, and took the boy in her arms and headed for a hospital.

  I don’t know where she got the strength, she was a thin as a whisper, but she ran so fast that it was hard for us to keep up with her. Águeda took Paloma in her arms and ran after them, and Antonietta took Isabel, but eventually had to hand him over to Jesús.

  We got to a hospital near to the Retiro and they took charge of Javier.

  “What happened?” the doctor asked.

  “He fell out of a tree, he’s a very unruly child and there’s no way to stop him doing what he wants to do,” Amelia said.

  “You are his mother, aren’t you? I don’t need to ask, he looks so much like you.”

  “Yes, he is my son,” Amelia said as she pressed Javier’s hand.

  “No, no... my mother is this lady... ,” Javier said, pointing to Águeda, who had just come in, sweating, with Paloma in her arms.

  “This lady?” the doctor looked incredulously at Águeda.

  “Yes, she’s my mama...”

  Amelia and Águeda looked at each other without knowing what to say, which surprised the doctor.

  “Well, which one of you is the boy’s mother?” he asked angrily.

  “I, I am his mother, she is... well, she is like a mother to him; she’s looked after him ever since he was a little baby,” Amelia said, pointing to Águeda.

  “No, you’re not my mother!” Javier shouted.

  “And his father? Where is he?”

  “At work,” Águeda replied.

  “Call him,” the doctor said, and started to put a cast on Javier’s leg and a bandage on his arm, which fortunately was not broken.

  “Well, young man, you’re not going to be climbing trees for a while, and I hope that this is a lesson to you to obey your mother when she tells you to take care and not climb up so high.”

  “Yes, sir,” Javier said, hanging his head.

  We were just about to leave when Santiago arrived, after Águeda had called him on the doctor’s advice.

  As soon as he saw Amelia his face grew tense and he snatched the child from his mother’s arms. The doctor looked at him in surprise.

  “The child is well, I have told your wife that he needs to rest and to wear the cast for forty days. But don’t worry, the bone should set well.”

  “Thank you very much, Doctor, I’m very grateful to you,” Santiago replied drily.

  Águeda knotted her hands together nervously and Amelia was so pale that she looked like she were made out of wax. Antonietta said she felt sick, and Isabel was crying in Jesus’s arms, and I was shuffling from one foot to the other without knowing what to do.

  “Águeda, tell me what happened,” Santiago ordered.

  “The boy was climbing a tree and suddenly he fell... I... I’m sorry... I couldn’t stop... stop it,” Águeda stammered in reply.

  Amelia looked at him, her expression a plea for help. Santiago’s eyes seemed to soften for a moment, but then he turned his face, ignoring her.

  “Santiago, I want to speak to you,” Amelia begged.

  “This lady told the doctor that she’s my mama,” Javier said suddenly.

  Santiago held Javier tight and turned to Amelia.

  “I do not want you to come close to Javier. Do not do it, or you will regret it.”

  “For God’s sake, Santiago, we’re in the street, can’t we talk? You can’t stop me from seeing my son, you can’t lie to him telling him he has another mother, you don’t have the right to do this to either of us.”

  I think that Santiago would have hit her if he had not been holding Javier, such was the fury in his eyes. I stood next to Amelia, intent on protecting her, even though I too was trembling at Santiago’s rage.

  “You have no son. You have nothing.”

  “Javier is my son, and someone will have to tell him so one day. He has my name, and that is something you cannot change. You will have to tell him who his mother is, and even if you tell him that I’m the worst woman who ever lived, you will never be able to tell him that I don’t love him, because I love him with my heart and soul and will do whatever I can for him.”

  “Papa...”

  “Be quiet. And you... How can you be so shameless? Let me tell you again: Stay away from Javier, or you will regret it.”

  “Papa...”

  “Shut up!”

  “Don’t shout at him! He hasn’t done anything.”

  “You dare to tell me what I can or cannot do?”

  “Yes, I dare to tell you not to shout at the child and I dare to beg you to talk to me, for us to reach some kind of agreement, so that the child can know who I am, and how much I love him.”

  “Go away, Amelia, and don’t come near us ever again or you will pay.”

  “What more can you do to me? You have no right to lie to Javier, telling him I’m not his real mother, telling him that Águeda is someone she is not.”

  “How dare you tell me what I can or cannot do! Who was with Javier when he was sick? Who put cloths soaked in vinegar on his forehead to lower the fever? Who changed his diapers, has dressed him, bathed him, fed him? Who was at his bedside when he woke up during the night? I’ll tell you who: this
woman, yes, because you were with your lover, in whatever bed you happened to find yourself at the time. And you dare to come here as if nothing has happened and claim that you are his mother. What sort of woman would abandon her son to run off with a scoundrel?”

  I saw that Amelia was about to burst into tears, and that she had been deeply wounded, feeling cruelly embarrassed for what Santiago had said to her in front of her son.

  “You need to destroy me so that my son doesn’t love me, you need me to be abhorred, you need him to think the very worst of me. Do you think that is good for him? You hate me and I understand that, but your hatred stops you from thinking that Javier has a right to his mother, even if she is a mother as... as imperfect as I am.”

  “But you are not my mother,” Javier said, upset at Amelia’s continued presence.

  “Yes, I am your mother, of course I am your mother, and I love you more than anyone else in the world.”

  “Why aren’t you with me, then? No, you’re not my mother, this is my mother,” Javier said, pointing at Águeda, who was very quiet and still and did not dare to move a muscle or say a word.

  “Motherhood is not just giving birth to a child. You gave birth to Javier, but that moment did not make you his mother.”

  Santiago turned and began walking quickly away, without even waiting for Águeda, who followed him tearfully with her daughter in her arms, scared of the storm that would fall on her when they got home.

  Amelia stood very still, she was so pale that she could have been dead. Antonietta spoke to her, but she did not reply, she didn’t seem to hear Jesús or me either. Antonietta shook her by the arm, trying to bring her back to herself.

  “Come on, Amelia, let’s go home.”

  We went home in silence, most of us shocked and stunned by what had happened, and Amelia feeling the deep pain of Santiago’s words.

  When Antonietta told Doña Elena what had happened, she got very upset.

  “I don’t believe it! Santiago has forgotten that he is a gentleman and that he owes you a certain amount of respect as the mother of his child.”

  “A moment... He said that Javier was only a moment of my life... that moment did not make me his mother... ,” Amelia sobbed.

  “Well, you are Javier’s mother, whether he likes it or not,” Laura said, deeply affected by her cousin’s sorrow.

  Melita took Amelia’s hand and pressed it close, trying to comfort her.

  Don Armando came home at lunchtime and found all the women in the family sunk in a sea of tears.

  “We have to sort this out. Santiago cannot carry on denying you access to Javier.”

  “What if we took him to court?” Doña Elena said.

  “No, not in court, we’d definitely lose. Don Manuel is a powerful man and we... well, we wouldn’t be able to justify some things...” Don Armando explained.

  “I know, Uncle, I know, it would be impossible to justify the reasons why I left my husband and my son to go off with another man, and a Communist to boot,” Amelia said.

  “Don’t say such things. Let me think, let me think... We will find a solution.”

  “No, Uncle, there’s no solution. Santiago hates me and will never forgive me. His revenge is to deny me my son.”

  Two days later, Edurne met Águeda near our house.

  “Tell Amelia not to worry about anything, that Javier is well, although upset about what happened.”

  “I will tell him.”

  “I... I’m sorry, I’m so sorry for what Amelia is suffering. Tell her that Don Santiago loves the child with all his heart, that he doesn’t want for anything, and that I... I love Javier very much, it is as if... as if he were my son. The boy’s been asking his father why the woman from the park took him to the hospital and said she was his mother, and he has asked me if I am his mother. I didn’t know what to say.”

  “What did you say?”

  “I said he is the son of my soul, and he asked me what that meant. Don Santiago asked him to forget about the woman, that he has no other mother but me, but Javier isn’t happy. Even though he is very small, he is intelligent and he’s going round all these things in his head. Edurne, do you think that Amelia will ever forgive me? I wasn’t able to resist, well... You know what men are like, and what with it being Don Santiago and all, I didn’t know how to refuse when he...”

  “Do you love him, Águeda?”

  “How could I not love him! He’s a gentleman, and such a good person... Women like us cannot reject gentlemen. I have a daughter with Don Santiago, Paloma, and he loves her in his way. I know that she will never be what Javier is to him, but he loves her and won’t let her lack for anything. He doesn’t refuse to acknowledge her as his daughter, and he’s said that we’ll send her to a good school, one run by nuns, and that she’ll have a good dowry when she gets married, and he will be proud to take her up the aisle himself.”

  “Well, there’s a long time to go before that happens, your daughter is still a little girl. Do you trust Don Santiago so much?”

  “He’s a man of his word, he would prefer to die than break a promise. I know that he won’t abandon me or Paloma. Edurne, tell Amelia that she should forgive me and that I will do whatever I can to make sure that she sees Javier again, even if it is better for her not to try again for a while.”

  “I will tell her, don’t worry, I will tell her.”

  We were all of us moved by Águeda’s gesture, all of us apart from Amelia, that is. She still thought of the woman as an intruder in her own house, someone who was stealing her son’s affection from her.

  “It’s not her fault what happened.” Laura tried to calm her cousin.

  “She’s a good woman, Javier is better off with her than with anyone else,” Doña Elena said.

  “And Santiago still loves you,” Antonietta said, to general disbelief.

  “What are you saying? How could you say a thing like that? He hates me, he hates me from the bottom of his soul.”

  “Well, I think he loves you, but he cannot forgive you because his pride won’t allow him. If you could conquer his pride then you could be happy again.”

  “Happy? You know what, Antonietta? We were never happy.”

  A month later, Señora Rodríguez, the woman who had turned up so unexpectedly at Christmastime, came round again to ask for Amelia, but she was not at home, so the woman left a card and told us to give it to Amelia as soon as she returned.

  We could see over the next few days that Amelia was upset. Doña Elena thought that it must be the heat, it was June in Madrid and very hot; it was hard to sleep at night, so we blamed anything that happened on the effects of the heat. But I realized that Amelia’s worry must have something to do with the visit of Señora Rodríguez.

  One afternoon Amelia came back from work later than usual, and said that she had been to see Señora Rodríguez.

  “Did she tell you anything about Albert James?” Doña Elena asked Amelia, remembering that Amelia had told us that Señora Rodríguez was a friend of the American journalist.

  “Yes, she told me that Albert was well,” Amelia replied drily.

  “Where is he now? In London or New York?” Laura wanted to know: She seemed particularly interested in the journalist.

  “In London, he’s still in London... Or at least that’s what Señora Rodríguez told me.”

  The family still paid a good deal of attention to the radio. Every evening after supper we sat in the living room to listen to the news. We followed news of Mussolini’s overthrow, and his eventual liberation by a German commando squad, and the proclamation of the Italian Social Republic, a phantasmagorical political entity created by Il Duce in northern Italy around a few ardent Fascists.

  Autumn of 1943 came round without it seeming possible that the routine of our lives would change at all.

  One afternoon at the end of October an unexpected visitor came to the house. I was at home because I had caught a chill.

  Amelia, Laura, and Antonietta had accompanie
d Doña Elena on a visit to a friend’s house, and Jesús had gone to see his father at the office where he worked, in order to walk home with him. So, apart from Edurne and me, there was no one else in the house.

  I was dozing in my room and Edurne was sewing in the kitchen when we heard the bell.

  Edurne opened the door and let out a cry that woke me. I left my room at once and was rendered speechless to find a uniformed German officer in the hall: tall, blond, blue-eyed, handsome. He had a scar shaped like a sickle moon that crossed his face from his right brow down to his nose.

  “I should like to see Señorita Garayoa.”

  “Which one?” Edurne asked in a faint voice.

  “Señorita Amelia Garayoa, I... I am an old friend of hers.”

  “I am sorry, but she is not at home at the moment. Would you like to leave your card?”

  “I would prefer to wait. Do you think that she will be long?”

  “I don’t know,” Edurne replied drily, beginning to find the strength to speak with this man in his intimidating uniform.

  “She may be quite some time,” I said, scared by the thought that this man might intend to do Amelia some harm.

  The German turned to me and looked at me with sympathy.

  “Are you her cousin Jesús, or are you Pablo? You have to be one or the other.”

  I was terrified. This officer knew who we were. Suddenly I thought that he was going to arrest us all. I didn’t know what to say, I was struck dumb, when suddenly I heard the key turn in the lock and Doña Elena’s voice. When she came in, with Laura, Antonietta, and Amelia close behind her, Doña Elena gave a little cry to see the German soldier.

  “But who are you?” Doña Elena asked.

  “I am sorry to bother you, but I am looking for Señorita Amelia Garayoa...”

  He did not say any more, because at this point he saw Amelia: They looked into each other’s eyes and then embraced without saying another word. Doña Elena nearly had a stroke, and had to be supported by Antonietta and Laura, who led her into the sitting room.

 

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