A Coffee to the Past

by Stefania Gil

  Carlota looked at her coffee and smiled. She poured herself another cup and then sat down in one of the kitchen chairs. She picked up the hand-held recorder and prepared it for Juan Carlos to start talking. All this would be firsthand information and Carlota was not about to lose any detail of his story.

  She had the feeling that her next bestseller was sitting before her.

  “We have all night to listen to you, Juan Carlos.”

  ***

  Juan Carlos wanted to once again trust the woman with the face of an angel. Carlota. He tasted the drink she gave him a few minutes before sitting in front of him at the table.

  That warm, bitter liquid awakened his senses. It was delicious. He sipped it again and again and again. He stopped only when his cup was empty.

  “When did coffee arrive in Spain if he doesn’t know it?” The other woman, who was sitting next to his guardian angel, asked with amazement.

  “We can Google it. The truth is I don’t know.”

  Juan Carlos fixed his eyes on Carlota.

  “Could you give me more of this?” He pointed to his empty cup.

  Carlota smiled at him and served him more.

  “You can have all you want, I can also make it sweet if you like.”

  Carlota lifted the lid of a small bowl on the table.

  Juan Carlos was anxious when he saw the contents.

  “Is that sweet salt?”

  “Sugar, that's what we call it. You can try it if you want.”

  Juan Carlos was tempted to do so. He could not help remembering when his father got some extra money and brought the sweet salt home for his mother to prepare a special bread.

  What a day that was. How he missed it!

  He stuck his index finger and thumb into the bow. He barely got a pinch and put it directly into his cup.

  Never in his life had he seen so much sweet salt together.

  Edward placed what looked like a metal spoon next to the cup. He had never seen one of those because there were only wooden ones in his house. The other materials were very expensive for them.

  Juan Carlos thought, once again, that he was among royalty by all the things he saw.

  “Give him some more sugar,” the woman next to Carlota told her. “She makes good coffee, but she doesn’t put enough sugar in it.”

  His guardian angel rolled her eyes.

  “I do that so everyone can prepare it to their taste.”

  “Thank you,” said Juan Carlos, he was tempted to add more sweet salt to his dark drink, but he had to behave, he had to be respectful. “It’s okay besides sweet salt is very expensive.”

  The woman next to his angel opened her eyes as wide as plates.

  “What time do you belong to?” The lady asked.

  “I remember my mother saying that my birth year was 1573.”

  Everyone around him widened their eyes in shock.

  “You are more than 400 years old?” Edward looked at him with astonishment. “How the hell? I just... I do not understand what's happening in this house today.”

  “That's life in the country, sweetheart.” He saw Carlota smile at Edward.

  He was not surprised to be over 400 years old.

  Sigh.

  The woman next to her angel, took the silver spoon and dipped it inside the sweet salt and then took an overflowing amount to put in her cup.

  He felt ashamed he had not stopped the woman in time. He could not waste product that way.

  “Please, you should not have done that.” The lady repeated the action but this time he managed to cover the cup, causing his hands to collide and sweet salt scattered across the table. Juan Carlos could not help but stand up and gather the white powder quickly between his palms.

  “Juan Carlos, remain calm,” said his angel, taking him by the hands, he was agitated. “It's not gold, it's just sugar.”

  He looked at her nervously.

  “Who are you?” He looked into Carlota’s eyes. “You inspire confidence, but I need to know if you belong to royalty because if so, I should leave. I can’t allow the inquisitors to get me again.”

  Carlota put a hand on his face and looked at him with compassion.

  “There are no inquisitors anymore and we are not royalty, why do you think we are?”

  “The sweet salt. Only the rich have it. We had to resign ourselves to the honey from the flowers. It's the first time in my life that I have seen so much sweet salt together.” He grimaced and lifted his shoulders. “My father worked very hard to provide us with food on a daily basis. He only bought that wonder a few times so that my mother could prepared a celebration bread. I remember taking some of it between my fingers and putting it to my mouth.” Juan Carlos closed his eyes remembering. “What a wonderful feeling! I liked it very much. There was always very little of the good thing and we all had to share.”

  “Well, that's not the way it is now,” said the woman from whom he still did not know her name. “Try your coffee and find out how good it is with a little more sugar.”

  He did what the woman asked and couldn’t stop until he had consumed it all.

  It was delicious.

  “At this rate, we'd better have ten more liters ready for the rest of the night,” Edward commented as he got to his feet and pulled out an almost black powder that he poured into a metal device.

  “What is your name, Miss?” He watched the lady laugh with mockery.

  “Isabel and drop the formalities because they are not so exaggerated this time.”

  He couldn’t understand exactly what the woman was referring to. A man must always respect a lady. That was what his father taught him, and he could not do it any other way.

  “How did you get in the coffin, Juan Carlos?” His guardian angel asked. “I want to know your story.”

  He smiled with pain in his eyes, he thought they would not insist on asking him the horror he had lived.

  “It all started with the plague.” Juan Carlos began to tell that story he wanted to erase from his memory with all his might

  XII

  Most detainees who came to the prison where like him, sometimes they shared a cell with him, but no one knew what they were accused of or of any evidence against them. They didn’t even know the witnesses that charged them.

  Juan Carlos began to learn things that seemed to extend his life. He didn’t know if it was good or bad, but at least he had to try. It had been a few weeks since the inquisitors took him and his brother, whom he never saw again.

  He spent a few weeks without sunlight, or clean fresh air.

  He was kept underground in a building full of long and narrow corridors, lit by torches and always guarded by guards.

  The first few days were a real hell inside the cell. It was almost impossible to breathe the heavy, foul air. About twenty people remained locked in and everyone urinated and defecated there.

  They vomited, too. Just like Juan Carlos did for two days in a row. The nausea produced the foul odor. Above all, once a day when they brought a piece of bread with a little water, the bread sometimes fell on the ground because of the abrupt and humiliating way in which the guards fed them. However, their hunger was so great that, it didn’t matter if the bread had fallen into a pool of pee or shit, the prisoners took it and ate it.

  It took Juan Carlos a while to get used to that.

  He had to start eating something so his cellmates would not realize that even though he had not eaten for a long time, his body looked as good as if he had been feeding on beef instead of bread.

  When Juan C. began to notice that some of them spoke in secret, especially leaving him out of the conversation, he decided to start eating bread even if it was full of shit.

  It was either that or he would go directly to a torture room, which he had been spared since he entered the prison. Surely his cellmates-to save their own skin-would accuse him of being a true heretic. The last thing Juan Carlos needed at the moment was for a cellmate to add more fuel to the bonfire in which he w
as convinced that, sooner or later, would end up burned on.

  ***

  Isabel was wrapped in her multicolored woolen poncho, sitting on a corner of the large sofa in the living room, hugging her knees. Her head was bursting from hearing the beginning of a story that promised to be too cruel for her. The amount of caffeine in her body would not allow her to even think of sleeping tonight but she had to try because if she didn’t sleep she would go crazy.

  It was a couple of hours before the sunrise.

  Carlota was in the kitchen recharging the coffeepot, Edward was helping her. She could not take her eyes off Juan Carlos.

  Poor man. How much he must have suffered.

  She felt her heart shrink. Not for Juan Carlos, no. This time, it was for Luke. How long would she think of him?

  She felt her eyes sting and she did not hesitate before going to her room.

  “I'm going to bed,” she announced to those gathered in the drawing-room.

  She stood up and Juan Carlos did the same.

  She looked at him doubtfully.

  He smiled at her. The poor wretch had a beautiful smile and yet he could not hide the permanent sadness in his eyes.

  “May you have a restful sleep.”

  Isabel could not help but smile and shake her head.

  “Juan Carlos, if you want to live in these modern times, please behave like a normal man.” The immortal studied her intriguingly. You do not have to stand up every time a woman next to you gets up, and just say: 'Good Night'

  The man nodded uncomprehendingly.

  “They're good manners. Are they no longer used?”

  “Mmmm,” Edward grimaced in disgust, “let's just say they've changed considerably.”

  “You must teach me, please.”

  “I'm sure my sister will take care of that,” Isabel said as she winked at her sister. “I am convinced that from now on she will be your shadow and will become your best friend.”

  Juan Carlos opened his eyes in surprise.

  “Oh no!” he looked at Edward. A man and a woman could never be friends. “That is not viewed well, especially if the woman has a husband.”

  Edward turned his eyes to the sky.

  “Easy, Juan, you have nothing to worry about. I trust my wife, and something tells me that we will all become good friends.”

  “It seems the society of writers is going to be proud of your find,” Isabel said to Carlota.

  She stood and hugged her.

  Isabel felt her world stagger and a form lump in her throat as she thought of Luke again.

  She kissed her sister.

  “I'll take care of Alice tomorrow. You're going to have a lot to do with Juan Carlos.”

  “Thank you.” Carlota sincerely smiled at her. She saw the emotions in her eyes. “Are you okay?”

  Her older sister knew her too well.

  Isabel nodded.

  “I’m just tired. I'm going to bed. Good night.”

  She went to her room leaving everyone behind.

  When she closed the door, she dropped to the wooden floor and hugged her knees again, resting her head on them. She closed her eyes and let the knot in her throat dissolve into tears.

  What was Luke doing?

  She missed him so much. She wanted to talk to him, to see his smile.

  She thought of Juan Carlos and how difficult it must have been to have been imprisoned, isolated and in a reality he would have done anything to escape.

  Just as she was at that moment. Damn unrequited love, knowing nothing about the loved one and wanting to open his eyes and realizing that her life up to that moment was nothing more than a cruel joke, a dreadful nightmare.

  ***

  Carlota was very tired, but happy. There were too many emotions to deal with for one night.

  She was still grateful to the universe that Juan Carlos turned out to be better than bread.

  She smiled.

  She saw the coffee pot and thought about having another cup, but her body immediately rejected the thought. She had never had so much coffee in one night.

  Juan Carlos was delighted with the drink. The little he began to tell of his story seemed so frightening that she felt the urge to consume caffeine nonstop so she could have all her wits to be able to remember Juan’s every expression.

  The words were recorded on her tape recorder.

  She was in front of her computer, reviewing what was written about the estate’s legend.

  She looked at the clock.

  Isabel would arrive with Alicia soon and she would have to stop. She hoped to be able to deal with the little girl's scampering around all afternoon. She didn’t want her to take a nap so she would go to bed early. Carlota wanted to resume her conversation with Juan Carlos.

  They had to stop when her daughter woke up because she wouldn’t stop calling 'mommy' even though Isabel wanted to take care of her for the day.

  Edward had a sowing engagement with Alfonso and Juan Carlos, wanted to join him. Her husband didn’t think it wise for him to go out in a time so different from his. “If you're surprised with sugar,” Edward said, “I don’t want to know what's going to happen when you see cars”

  Juan Carlos behaved perfectly as soon as he left the house. He promised he would and everyone agreed with his request when his eyes showed desperation to be outdoors and his voice became a plea. At that moment, Carlota thought about everything he must have begged for when he was a prisoner. She could not allow the same thing to happen now. For that simple reason Juan Carlos was free to do what he wanted. Edward promised to keep her informed via cell phone.

  The last message said that they would arrive at lunchtime and Juan Carlos concealed his astonishment with everything he saw very well.

  Poor thing.

  How many things were waiting for him to explore.

  Carlota was anxious. She knew she had the perfect story before her. Fantastic. Worthy of being a bestseller, but it did not have a solid argument.

  Sigh.

  She received another email from her agent. Once again, she indicated that there were only a few weeks left before she had to hand over a draft of her new story to the editor.

  She already knew that, and her unbearable ghost muses too!

  She closed her tired eyes.

  Just as she decided to lean back with her eyes closed, she heard Edward and Isabel's cars park by the front door.

  ***

  Edward entered with his little girl in his arms. When she saw her mommy she wiggled until Ed put her down. When she was free she went to greet Carlota.

  Those moments were the ultimate happiness for Edward, seeing the two women he loved the most in the world, hugging and exchanging smiles. It was the best part of his day.

  He approached his wife and planted a sweet kiss on her lips.

  “How was your day? He asked when he saw the clutter on the sofa and the computer turned on to a blank page.”

  “Awful,” she said with a half-smile. “You took my muse.”

  Edward laughed.

  “Don’t listen to him. He’s going to say it’s not good to call him your muse. That would be disrespectful to your husband.”

  Carlota smiled at him.

  “How was Alfonso?”

  Edward sighed and went to the kitchen with his wife and daughter.

  “All right. It was very funny to see your muse’s face on some occasions and even better, to see Alfonso's face when Juan Carlos did something strange.”

  “How did you explain his behavior?”

  Edward shrugged. His wife was going to kill him for his reply.

  “I told him you'd tell him later.”

  “What?”

  “You're a writer, sweetheart.” He began raining soft kisses all over her face to soften the reproving expression she wore. “You'll think of something good to say to Alfonso,” he finished with his classic, unerring wink that she could not resist. Upon seeing her roll her eyes he knew he still had it.

  “Seriou
sly, Juan Carlos, thank you. I can do it myself,” her sister-in-law complained, following Juan Carlos, a little annoyed.

  “I told you,” Ed said seriously to his new friend.

  “But I can’t let her carry this.”

  His sister-in-law rolled her eyes.

  “Friend, you have to understand women today struggle to be equal to us.”

  Juan Carlos looked doubtful.

  “There are things only we can do.”

  “It's unbearable,” Isabel said under her breath.

  Carlota smiled.

  “Put them over there, Juan. Thank you.”

  His wife indicated to the immortal where he needed to put the two bottles of drinking water that Isabel bought. Juan C. insisted on carrying them as soon as he saw her unloading them from her car.

  Ed already knew his sister-in-law and his wife. He was happier since he did what they told him. For example, today, his sister-in-law said: 'Take Alice and I’ll take the water.'

  Holy word. Why the hell would you want to argue?

  He picked up his little one and left her with her desire to carry eight gallons of water under each arm, up an incline in heels that Ed still, wondered how the heck women walked with those on their feet.

  “Is it because in your day women were useless?”

  “Isabel!” Carlota protested.

  “What?”

  Edward picked up the child and sat her in her high chair.

  “No, Miss Isabel,” said Juan Carlos politely. “Women had their jobs and we had ours.”

  Isabel folded her arms.

  Edward started laughing under his breath at those two.

  Poor Juan Carlos, his eternal life was far removed from what Ed had seen in movies or the things his wife shared with him from reading.

  He stayed with Carlota, until the early part of the morning, while Juan Carlos narrated part of his history.

  He was frightened by the beginning and knew that his new friend had not begun to tell the worst of all he had lived through. He only had to remember the look of horror on the immortal’s face when he saw the scissors approaching him to cut his beard and hair or the way he trembled with fear when he turned on the shaver.