by Johnny Miles
that she had gotten up and left the group.
No matter. Adelina looked around the room. As always, the men had gone off
and gathered in a separate room to discuss business and politics as if their wives
were brainless lepers.
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Johnny Miles
“Well…” Adelina muttered and smirked. She picked up her skirts and poked
her head inside her husband's study. Pipe smoke filled the room with a bluish haze.
The conversation, loud and boisterous, stopped when the men saw her.
“Such excited conversation,” Adelina said with a cough as she walked in. She
waved her hand before her face. The herbalists believed the tobacco plant had
curative powers, but did the men have to smoke so much of it?
“We were just talking about the moral implications of slavery,” one of the men
said.
“Oh?” Adelina stopped and turned toward him with a great deal of interest.
“Yes. I don't like the idea personally, but it seems I'm in the minority. Most of
our friends seem to think it's the premier commodity keeping our economy afloat,”
he finished somewhat sheepishly.
“But surely there are other ways, don't you think? There must be, I don't
know… Perhaps products, crops, services that…” Adelina started excitedly, eager to
have someone else with whom to express herself. Not that Bernardo wouldn't listen.
He always did. But he would grow weary sometimes and refuse to speak further
once he grew tired of the subject.
“What the hell would you know?” A deep, gravelly voice seemed to boom across
the room. “You're just a woman.”
“Excuse me?” Adelina cleared her throat, her eyes burning at Raúl. A nervous
tic made her left eye twitch as Raúl leered at her. He stood just outside the group of
men, almost like an outcast, swirling his cognac.
Adelina felt her neck go crimson from the brazen stare Raúl gave her, but was
more angered that he had insulted her, to her face, in her own home. It was no
wonder he was never invited to events and social gatherings. No one wanted
anything to do with him. Except he was one of the richest men in Andalusia and not
a man to be ignored.
“I might have known that would come from you, Raúl Ignacio,” Adelina said
quietly and sniffed airily. “But then, I wouldn't expect anything less from you.”
Casa Rodrigo
11
“Gentlemen.” Adelina turned her attention to the rest of the men. “Please
excuse me. I did not mean to…interfere with your…man talk. I was only looking for
my husband, but I see he is not here.”
“He said he would be right back,” the first man said, an almost helpful tone in
his voice. “He said he wanted to finish packing.”
“Packing?” Adelina flinched. A palpable discomfort suddenly filled the room,
and every man but one shuffled his feet, cleared his throat, or pretended to cough as
if trying to avoid what would come next.
Only Raúl stood still and glared at Adelina with a grin.
Stupid little boys. Adelina glanced about the room. Just boys pretending to be
men. They'll destroy us all someday with their ridiculous bravado.
Adelina turned and swept out of the room.
Insufferable sons of bitches. Adelina fumed beneath the grandest and most
gracious of smiles as she passed more of her guests in the hallway.
She hurried toward the stairs as fast as her feet could carry her under the
weight of her heavy dress with its stays and two skirts, the layered petticoats, and
the ruffled lace about her neck.
She was breathing heavily by the time she got to Bernardo's bedroom. She
knocked insistently, but there was no answer.
“Bernardo!” Adelina opened the door and looked inside. The room was
immaculate. At the foot of the bed was his trunk. A travel bag lay on top.
A sound of displeasure escaped her throat as she closed the door and walked
down the hall. She threw open the door to her sons' room.
Bernardo froze before the smaller trunk, the boys' clothes in his hands. For a
moment, neither of them spoke. Then Adelina broke her paralysis and burst inside.
She forced herself to shut the door quietly behind her. No point in making a scene or
adding fuel to the fire of the women's gossip downstairs.
“What do you think you're doing?”
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Johnny Miles
“Adelina, por favor,” Bernardo said in a placating tone. “We've been through
this before.”
“Yes, but I didn't think you were going to go through with it!” She looked down
at the clothes in his hands, and she snatched them from him. “And what are you
doing with these?” Adelina hissed, feeling her blood boil.
“I'm taking the boys with me,” Bernardo said quietly.
“Not while there's breath in my body!” Adelina turned and put the clothes back
into the chest of drawers. “They're just children, Bernardo, not explorers in the New
World. You can't take them with you! I can't believe you would do this behind my
back without discussing it with me first!”
“Behind your back? Adelina, how can you say that? We talked about this! At
least, I tried to. But every time I broached the subject, you never wanted to listen!”
She stopped and turned to him.
“You know how I feel about slavery, Bernardo!” Adelina said heatedly. “Why
would you even think of going on this horrible venture. And with such a despicable
man as Raúl?”
“Come now, Adelina,” Bernardo said, trying to laugh it off. “He's not as bad as
all that.”
“Have you now become his defender? Have you forgotten the woman he killed
and almost burned in front of our own home? The man is foul, has no taste, and he
is vulgar. Not to mention a bastard.”
“Querida.” Bernardo reached for her, but she pulled away. She went back to
the trunk and pulled more clothes out, then stuffed them back into the drawers as
quickly as she could. There seemed to be some frantic animal inside her trying to
crawl out, to break free.
“Adelina,” Bernardo said again, this time more loudly. “It's because of your
beliefs that I've tried to maintain our stance of not importing goods from the slave
owners.”
Casa Rodrigo
13
“What exactly are you saying?” Adelina asked with a huff.
“The goods provided by the slave owners cost far less than those that we do
import. We're losing money, and we're overextended on credit. I see no other way
around our circumstances.”
“So now it's my fault, is it?” Adelina said reproachfully, her eyes brimming
with tears.
“Of course that's not what I'm saying,” Bernardo said with a sigh. “Adelina…”
But she did not answer.
“Adelina!” Bernardo growled. She stopped on her way to the chest, her
shoulders hunched as he approached. He put a hand on the small of her back and
turned her around to face him.
“My love,” Bernardo said gently, a hand beneath her chin. He lifted her face to
his. Silent tears flowed down her face. “Please. I need you to understand.”
But Adelina simply stared up at him.
“There must be another way, Bernardo.
This…this can't…”
“This is the only way. Look around you, Adelina! Take a really good look.
Before our very eyes, the walls of our home are crumbling down around us. The
servants' rooms leak when it rains, and it won't be long before the damage is
irreparable. I was born in this house, and I don't want to see it fall apart.”
“But, Bernardo…La Española? They say it's lawless. That you'd have to be
crazy to go there now. It would be like taking your life into your own hands!”
“We've let go of more than half our staff. We're nearly broke, Adelina. There
are no buts about this. I cannot pull away now.”
“Oh, Bernardo,” Adelina said with a resigned sigh. Her voice quavered ever so
slightly.
“I respect your wishes,” Bernardo continued. “I really do. I understand how
you feel. But we simply cannot compete. All the discussions I've had with other
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Johnny Miles
merchants… It all leads back to this. And I promise you…I will not be cruel to those
poor creatures. Not like…”
Adelina took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Outside, she could hear the
children shrieking with laughter. She dropped the clothes in her arms and stepped
over them as she made her way toward the open window. She looked down into the
courtyard at the long table in the center covered with colorful cloths, at the once-
large cake that was now all but devoured. The old servants struggled to rein in so
many children and keep them from running wild.
It had been so long since they'd thrown a party. They rarely had people over
anymore. In part to save money, in part to keep Arbol from view. If Raúl ever found
out… Adelina shuddered and pushed the thought away.
“You can't take the children,” Adelina said quietly. “You just can't.”
“Adelina.” Bernardo came up behind her, placed his hands on her shoulders.
She shrugged them off, then turned and looked up at Bernardo. For the briefest of
moments, she felt detached, almost as if she didn't know him. As if her husband, the
father of her twins, were no one more than a stranger she had just met.
“I don't know why you must involve the children,” she said and stepped away
to pick up the clothes. She folded them carefully, then placed them gently into the
chest.
“They're coming with me because I must interest them now. While they're still
young. One day they will inherit Casa Rodrigo. They will inherit this house, the new
land on La Española. I want them to know how to manage and run the plantation,
the fields and crops, the slaves. Do you want them to go hungry?”
Bernardo reached for the clothes, and she let him take them without protest.
She lowered her head, conflicted. Her mind told her that what Bernardo said
was true. This opportunity was the right thing to do. But her heart told her it was
wrong. And to take the children—to teach them such a horrible thing as keeping
another human being enchained…
Casa Rodrigo
15
“I feel like you're taking them away from me.” She admitted defeat.
“But I'm not!” Bernardo laughed, rushing to her side after he had returned the
clothes to the trunk. “Cariño, it's only for six months! Well, maybe a little more. It'll
take three months to get there, three months to get back, and I'm not certain how
long to get the plantation up and running. And of course we don't want to chance
sailing during hurricane season.”
“It might as well be forever.” Adelina sat at the side of one of the beds. She
watched her husband go back and forth between the clothes on the floor, the ones
she'd put back in the dresser, and the trunk, tossing them all in unceremoniously.
“Promise me one thing.”
“Anything,” Bernardo said, closing the trunk, then locking it. He walked over
and sat beside her.
“Promise me you'll be fair. That you'll make sure our children won't turn into
that…that horrible man.”
“I will do everything within my power,” Bernardo agreed and closed his hand
over hers.
“Remember when we were younger? Before the children came? Life seemed so
much simpler then. When did it become so…adult?”
“Times are changing, Adelina. And we must change along with them, or we
shall surely fail our children.”
They sat in silence a moment.
“Well,” Adelina said finally with a sigh of resignation. “At least Arbol will
remain here with me. He's not my son, but I suppose that's some consolation.”
Bernardo stiffened.
“What?” Adelina pulled her hand away.
“Arbol is…at the top of the list,” Bernardo said quietly, avoiding her gaze.
“At the top of the list?” Adelina repeated, weighing the words as they rolled off
her tongue. She looked at Bernardo suspiciously. “What do you mean?”
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Johnny Miles
Bernardo stood. He looked as if he were searching for the proper words.
“By law, the boy is Raúl's rightful property. We can no longer afford to hide
him. Especially after today. Someone might see him. Raúl might hear and grow
suspicious of why we have a black child in our home. One who is the same age as
the one who supposedly went missing.”
“What if you said you found him in the village?” Adelina hated herself for it the
moment the words left her mouth, for thinking that way.
“Raúl will know we've lied. No matter how horrible he can be, he is still very
well connected. Besides, in business, it's a good practice to remain close to those you
consider your enemies. Keeps you…informed.”
Adelina pondered a moment. “What are you going to do with him? With Arbol,
I mean.”
“I plan to hide him in the one place Raúl will never think to look. The one place
where he can remain invisible yet never have to hide again.”
* * *
Alonso asked one of the servants for another piece of cake. A big one.
“Still hungry are you?” Antonietta asked with a warm smile. Alonso grinned.
He took the plate handed to him, grabbed a fork from the table and walked away.
“Oye! Adónde vas?” Fernando called out after him and followed.
“Sssh!” Alonso said as they disappeared around the corner. “I thought Arbol
might like a piece of our birthday cake.”
“But, Alonso, you know what Father said! We can't bring attention to him!”
“I know,” Alonso replied defensively. “But that doesn't mean we can't take a
piece of cake to him! It's not fair that he has to stay locked up when people come
over.”
“Or when the servants are here,” Fernando pointed out. “Don't forget that!”
The boys seemed to remember that, once upon a time, the servants had always been
there. Day or night. But over the past few years, as they started to become aware of
Casa Rodrigo
17
the world around them, the twins realized the servants all seemed to leave just
after dinner.
“That's because they want to have dinner with their own families,” their father
had explained when the boys asked. His answer had made sense to them, and they
never brought the subject up again.
Once out
of the courtyard, the twins turned to make sure no one was following
them or had noticed they were gone. They then raced behind the house and
reentered through the servants' door. Luckily no one was in the kitchen. The
remaining servants were either in the courtyard or in the dining room passing out
tapas.
“You stay here and keep watch while I go upstairs,” Alonso said. Fernando
nodded.
Alonso quietly made his way up the stairs. He tiptoed past his father's room,
his mother's, and their own, where he thought he heard his parents talking very
excitedly.
Alonso continued up the rickety steps that led to the servants' quarters. No
one had slept up there for several years. Just in front of the stairs, Alonso knocked
at the wooden door, then pushed it open.
Arbol stood in front of the window looking down into the courtyard. He was
only five, but already tall for his age. Their father had joked once that he was as tall
as a tree, an arbol, and the nickname had just stuck.
The black boy turned to Alonso and grinned suddenly. But Alonso could see
that he had been crying.
“I brought you a piece of cake,” Alonso said, shutting the door behind him and
stepping farther into the small room.
“Oh, thank you!” Arbol rushed toward Alonso. He took the plate and looked
into Alonso's eyes. Arbol grinned widely, flashing white teeth. It was the type of
grin that made Alonso feel good. Like he had done the right thing.
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Johnny Miles
Without a word, the boys sat side by side on the tiny cot Arbol had long ago
outgrown, and shared the piece of cake.
“Happy birthday!” Arbol said when they were done, and threw his arms
around Alonso's neck, then started to cry again.
“What's wrong?” Alonso asked, worried.
“I'm never going to have a birthday party, am I?” Arbol asked and buried his
dark brown face in his pink hands.
“Of course you will!” Alonso exclaimed. “I promise.” Then thought, someday.
With a sigh, Alonso put his arm around the boy who had somehow become his best
