Casa Rodrigo

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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  “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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  “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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  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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  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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  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