The Son, The Sudarium Trilogy - Book Two

by Leonard Foglia

  “How is Nick?” Hannah asked tentatively.

  “Darlin’, that party ended long ago. Not that it was ever that much of a party. Lot’s changed in twenty years, hon. I’m a grandmother now. At 49! Would you believe it? Where did the time disappear? I have to say I missed you plenty after you left. A lot of girls came and went at the diner after you left. But you were the only one I ever risked my life for. That’s not something you forget easily.”

  Hannah felt the tears come to her eyes. It was true, she had thought about Teri over the years. But her old life and her new life had diverged so much they seemed to belong to different planets. Talking to Teri now, she realized how wrong she’d been. There wasn’t an old life and a new life; there was just her life.

  “I’m sorry, Teri,” she mumbled. “I’ve been a lousy friend.”

  “Hey don’t be feeling sorry. I knew that I’d played my little part in your life. I did a damn good thing. Whenever Nick put me down, I’d think of you and all we went through together and tell myself, ‘Teri, sweetheart, you can’t be all bad.’ It’s funny we always think the exciting days are ahead. Then one day you wake up and you realize that the exciting days have already happened, and you think, ‘Why didn’t I enjoy that more? Or get mad? Or stand up for myself?’” She paused. “Whew! I don’t know where all that came from. Sorry! May I ask, are you still with Father Jimmy? I mean Jimmy.”

  “Yes.”

  “That’s good. You see, it was all for something then. And the boy?”

  “He’s a young man now.”

  “Of course, he would be.”

  “And he’s got a younger brother and sister. Little Jimmy and”—- Hannah paused before announcing – “Teresa.”

  “Teresa?” Teri was dumbstruck that Hannah had named her only daughter after her.

  “I hope you don’t mind.”

  “Mind? I don’t know what to say. I always wanted a daughter. Someone to pass on my make-up techniques. You sure never listened!”

  “Teri, there is so much I need to tell you. Things I couldn’t explain back then. But I think now’s the time you knew why everything happened the way it did, and why we disappeared. You deserve more than anyone to know. It may come as a shock to you.”

  “I don’t shock easily, hon.”

  As succinctly as possible, Hannah filled in the blanks of the last 20 years for her friend, right through the mudslide in the Sierra Gorda, which was when their peaceful life in Mexico had started to change. She told her about the reappearance of Judith Kowalski and Dr. Johanson and their desire to unleash her son on the world as the new redeemer.

  Teri listened in silence, trying to imagine Hannah’s face, a face she hadn’t seen in two decades. When Hannah stopped talking, Teri sucked in her breath and said, “Maybe, I should take that back about not shocking easily. So those sick fucks are back, huh? And have gotten even sicker, it seems.”

  “I’m afraid so.”

  “Perhaps I should come down there and remind them what a gun-totting waitress is capable of.”

  “I think that’s exactly what we need! When can you get here?”

  “Come to Mexico? Are you serious? Tell me, you live anywhere near that Cancun place?”

  “No, we live in the center of the country. It’s about ten hours from the ocean.”

  “I almost went to Cancun once. Almost did a lot of things.”

  “Teri, any chance you would be up for a visitor instead?”

  “Are you kidding? Anything to see your face. You coming back this way?”

  “No,” Hannah replied. “Not me. My son.”

  “Your son?”

  “Teri, our house is literally under siege here. We’ve got to find someplace safe for him to ride this out.”

  Without missing a beat, Teri said, “Oh, what the hell! Send him my way. I still have one of Nick’s old guns. How hard can it be to keep two 70-year-old nuts at bay?”

  “If only it were just them, but there seem to be hundreds, maybe thousands,” Hannah said, before the floodgates broke and tears poured down her face. Trying to be strong these few days had taken its toll and suddenly her emotions spilled out in a rush. “What is this poor boy’s life going to be like? I can’t imagine. I don’t even know if Jimmy and I did the right thing.” The receiver was wet with her tears. “Oh, Teri, we’re all trying to be brave here, but I don’t know if I can take much more of this worry and guilt.”

  “Hannah Manning, you listen to me.” It was the old Teri speaking, the companion who’d supported her from the start, who’d kept her spirits high during the pregnancy and let her know if you weren’t your own person, you were nobody! “If there’s one thing I remember about you, it’s this: you always put that child’s interests before your own.”

  “But what do I do? I don’t know how to protect him now.”

  “Sweetie, none of us knows how to protect our children. Oh, I know. Your situation is a little…unusual. God knows there’s no Dr. Spock for this one. But when you come right down to it, all of us live with the fear of our kids stepping off the curb without seeing the bus, getting involved with drugs. And now with this insane world we live in, just being in the wrong place at the wrong time, when the terrorist strikes. But for as long as I’ve known you, everything in your life has been, well, unconventional, and you’ve managed to hang in there.”

  Teri could hear Hannah sniffling. The tears were subsiding. “Let’s face it,” she continued, “you didn’t start a family the way you did and expect everything to be apple-pie and ice cream, did you? You were never destined to be ordinary. Hell, that’s what always impressed me about you. So when you get in touch with that son of yours, you send him here. I’d be on the run, too, if people were saying that crap about me. Of course, I’d be more likely to be mistaken for the slut. What was her name? Mary Magdalene?” Teri stifled a hoarse laugh. “Sorry, honey, that’s a bad joke.”

  Hannah was pleased to see that Teri’s outrageousness was still intact. “That’s okay. Jokes are in short supply around here.”

  “Well, you know I’m here for you, kid. Always have been. Except we’re not exactly kids any more.”

  Hannah sighed. “I’ll be forty this year.”

  “What I wouldn’t give to be able to say that,” sighed Teri. “In a few months I will be leaving my 40s behind forever, and not so gracefully, I can tell you. I’ve gone up two dress sizes and - and are you ready for this? - I’m a redhead now. Well, reddish pink. More pink than red. With dark roots. I swear it’s the last time I’ll use that Revlon shit. I look like a bad sunset.”

  And Hannah who had begun the conversation in panic was actually laughing. They hadn’t worked together that long, but there had been a lot of laughter in the Blue Dawn Diner back then and the events they had been through together were indelible. Teri had actually saved her life. She was as responsible as anyone that Hannah was in Mexico with a husband and three children. They had been through one battle. And now another was raging. Teri was her war buddy. How nice it would be one day to get together and swap old war stories.

  “But there’s something you haven’t told me yet.”

  “What’s that?” Hannah said.

  “What’s his name?”

  “Whose?”

  “The boy’s. Well, the young man’s.”

  “Manning. Manning Wilde. Jimmy and I just combined our two last names.”

  “Manning Wilde, eh? There’s a good Irish name for you.”

  “He doesn’t look very Irish, though,”

  “No, Hon, something tells me he wouldn’t! Listen, I’ve got to get to work. Time and the Blue Dawn Diner wait for no woman. So you inform young Manning Wilde the door’s always open at his Aunt Teri’s.”

  “Teri! You don’t still work at the Blue Dawn Diner?”

  There was a brief pause. “I’d afraid so. We don’t all lead lives of adventure, hon.”

  2:41

  The ruins of the stone archway could have once been the door to a church, but
in the midst of the Parque de San Francisco, surrounded by neatly labeled trees and patrolled by the occasional pheasant, they looked like the ultimate romantic conceit. Only the nervous pacing of Claudia jarred with the mood. Her worry lifted momentarily, when she spotted Mano sprinting across the lawn. He hadn’t stopped running since events in the cathedral and had trouble catching his breath,

  “Where are my things?” he blurted out between gasps. “Couldn’t you get in my room?”

  “Don’t panic. I’ve got everything,” Claudia reassured him. “It’s all in the car. I checked myself out. I’ve had enough of Oviedo, too.”

  He barely heard her response. “Where’s the car?” he asked, brusquely. He needed to move.

  “This way. It’s parked down the street.”

  “Can you get me to the train station?”

  “I told you. I checked out and I’ve got the car. Where do you want to go?”

  “I’ve got to get back to Madrid.”

  Claudia lit up. “You’re in luck! I was planning on heading south next. There are some great places along the way. I can certainly get you going in the right direction. What’s so important in Madrid?”

  “Nothing,” he said. He looked at her directly for the first time. “I’ve decided to go home.”

  Mano kept his eyes pealed for road signs that pointed in the direction of Madrid. They didn’t speak until they’d navigated the suburbs of Oviedo and found themselves on the highway, climbing up into the rugged mountains that had so impressed Mano a week earlier.

  “So, can I ask you something now?” Claudia ventured.

  Mano had recovered some of his calm. “Sure.”

  “What was that all about in the cathedral? Why were all those people taking your picture and whispering about you?”

  Mano avoided her gaze by looking out the car window. “It’s complicated. I don’t know where to begin. Or frankly, if I even want to. Sorry, Claudia.”

  “Hey, that’s okay by me,” she said, retraining her eyes on the roadway. The car motor purred quietly. In the sky, the billowing clouds formed dramatic sculptures, part of an endless pattern of change.

  “I want you to know I’ve enjoyed our time together, Claudia. It’s been special to me in ways I can’t articulate. I just want you to know that.”

  “Oh, boy. Sounds like a brush-off speech to me.”

  “I don’t know what that is,” he said.

  “Sure you do. ‘Nice knowing you. See you around!’ ‘Adios, amiga. Hasta la vista.’”

  “No, that’s not it. I wish I could spend more time with you.”

  As if to break an embarrassing intimacy, she waited a while before saying, “So do I.”

  He blushed. There were so many things they had not talked about, so many emotions he hadn’t had time to process. Her appearance in his life had brought him unexpected joy. For two days, they had lived together in a bubble, protected from the outside world, shielded from others and their desperate wants. But the chaos in the cathedral had forced him to realize there was no running away. The situation was now – and had probably always been – out of his control.

  “I have to go home.”

  “Why the big hurry?”

  “I need to be with my family right now.”

  “You still haven’t told me what that was all about back there in Oviedo. Are you famous or something?”

  He laughed. “Hardly!”

  “Well, I assume you’re not in trouble with the law. I haven’t been harboring a criminal all this time, have I?”

  “I hope not.”

  “That’s not exactly the answer I was expecting! I was all prepared for a categorical denial.”

  “I haven’t done anything illegal, if that’s what you mean. But there are people who, well, who have strange ideas about me. They’re saying things that aren’t true.”

  “Isn’t that what every criminal says? Other people are making it all up. I’m really innocent as a lamb.”

  “Look, just let me out of the car, if I make you uncomfortable, but I can’t talk about it.”

  Claudia reached over and patted him on the knee. “Relax, Mano. I was just joking, I know you’re not a criminal.”

  “How can you be so sure?”

  He had that look in his eyes again – the one she’s seen on the cliff outside of Llanes. Resolute, determined to hold his ground.

  “I’ve learned to trust my instincts. They’ve never failed me yet.” She pressed down hard on the accelerator and the car leapt forward, like a cat pouncing on a rat it has suddenly spotted crossing the road.

  They had been driving for nearly five hours, speaking intermittently, mostly of the random sights alongside the road, when Claudia suggested that maybe they should stop and get a bite to eat. Something had to break the emotional lull they seemed to have fallen into. “I don’t know about you,” she said, “but that continental breakfast buffet is not going to hold me much longer.”

  “Me, neither,” joked Mano. “The rumbling of my stomach is beginning to drown out the car motor.”

  Good sign, thought Claudia to herself: Mano was coming out of his mood.

  “How about stopping in Salamanca? The Plaza Mayor is supposed to be one of the prettiest squares in all Spain.”

  “If you say so…”

  Claudia was right. The Plaza Mayor was a perfectly preserved slice of 18th century Spain – from the honey-colored buildings that fronted all four sides of the vast plaza, to the cool arcades that provided respite from the sun. Café tables, shaded by tan umbrellas, spilled into the plaza itself, allowing the customer to indulge in what was obviously the chief distraction: watching the variegated crowd navigate the square. Nuns, students, tourists, beggars and businessmen criss-crossed paths on missions merciful and mercenary. Claudia and Mano sat at a table on the eastern side, facing into the sun, and ordered bowls of Castilian stew and a pitcher of sangria. The warmth and the harmonious proportions of the site gave him a moment’s relief from the anxiety he had been feeling.

  Claudia was working hard to recreate the intimacy between them, calling his attention to an architectural detail or the whimsical attire of a passerby, but she was aware that something fundamental had changed. She was contemplating her next move, when she realized Mano was talking to her.

  “I’d like to take a look around.”

  “We can cancel the order, if you want.”

  “No, just a quick walk around the plaza. Let’s keep the table. It’s nice here. I’ll be right back.”

  A shadow of doubt crossed her mind, but when she saw that he was leaving his backpack on the chair next to her, Claudia endorsed the idea of a walk enthusiastically. “On the walls, between the arches, there are medallions of famous people. Over that way, supposedly there’s one of Hernan Cortez,” she said.

  “I’ll see if I can find him,” he replied and strolled off in the general direction she had indicated. She took out her camera and watched him, as he drank in all four sides of the square. When he looked back at her and waved, she snapped a picture. Then he entered the relative darkness of the colonnade directly opposite from their table and she lost sight of him.

  What had drawn Mano’s attention was the sign for an Internet Café in one of the entranceways to the plaza. Ever since the morning’s disturbance in the cathedral, he had felt compelled to communicate with his family back in Mexico. Taking advantage of the opportunity, he ducked inside, sat down at one of the computer stations and opened his correspondence. His anxiety immediately lifted when he saw there were three e-mails from his sister, Teresa. He realized how deeply he missed her. Missed them all! He clicked open the first e-mail.

  Hi Mano,

  It was great to hear from you and wish you were here with us. Things have been kind of odd around here. People have been saying some strange things about you, and Mom and Dad are pretty upset. Dad wanted me to write you immediately and pass on these words. I am sorry to be so mysterious. I am not even sure what he means. But he said to tell
you to “disassociate yourself from whomever you are with right now. Immediately and without explanation. Just disappear. As quickly as possible, disappear.” I would write more, but Dad wants this to get to you as soon as possible. Love, Teresa

  Disappear? His heart had never felt as empty as it did right then. He yearned to go home. He ached to see Teresa and Little Jimmy and the house on Venustiano Carranza, and here he was being told to vanish without telling a soul. “Disassociate yourself from whomever you are with right now.” From Claudia? They couldn’t mean her. There was no way they could know anything about Claudia.

  He clicked on the next e-mail. Its brevity conveyed its urgency. All it said was:

  Did you get my last e-mail? Just let us know. T

  The third e-mail, which had come in that morning, simply contained an address:

  Teri Rizzo

  51 Leverette St.

  Fall River, Massachusetts.

  Fall River? He knew that’s where his mother had grown up. Were they telling him to go there? Paranoia took over his mind. This latest e-mail was unsigned. Maybe someone other than his sister had sent it, in which case he’d be foolish to respond. But if it was from his family, he didn’t want them to worry that their messages were going unread. He checked his impulse to write them a long, reassuring letter. Then he typed a two-word response: “Got it!” and, pressing “send”, watched it disappear from the screen and into the stratosphere. The blank screen seemed to emphasize the sense of isolation that gripped him.

  When he arrived back at the table, the soup and sangria were waiting. Claudia looked up and smiled. “Nice walk?”

  “Yes, it’s beautiful here.”

  “We don’t have to rush on. Maybe we could spend the afternoon sightseeing? What do you think?”

  He was thinking of the e-mails. “Sure, why not?”