The Fountains of Silence

by Ruta Sepetys

  “No, I live in the city now. But I still live with Julia’s family. Do you live with your dad on the estate?”

  Daniel shakes his head. “I have a place of my own nearby.”

  He looks at her face, so open and eager to talk. “Rafa?” he asks.

  She takes a breath, smiling. “Rafa works for the Las Ventas arena. He loves his job. He married the sister of a bullfighter and they have three beautiful children. Rafa still lives in Vallecas. It’s changed quite a bit but Rafa would never leave. He helped build a new church there.”

  “And your cousin? What was her name?”

  Ana gives an awkward chuckle. “Puri. Yes, Purificación is well.”

  She adjusts her posture and again takes his hands. A bird chirps from the tree above. “We’ve been apart for so long. Much has changed in Spain over the years. Since the 1940s each decade has been different. Now that Franco’s dead I don’t know if anyone outside of Spain could ever understand what it was like. It’s so complicated.”

  She looks into his eyes. “Daniel, I was so foolish. I pushed you away. I said that you could never understand me, yet years have passed and I think you’re the only person I can truly feel myself with. You saw my life. You saw my fear. You do understand me. I’ve imagined and dreamed of being able to speak to you. To apologize and set things right.”

  “Trust me,” he says, brushing a lock of hair from her eyes. “At this moment everything feels really right.”

  She shakes her head. “Not exactly. There’s something you don’t know.”

  Certainly, there is an argument to be made that, because of our close association with Franco, the kinds of economic and financial support that we’d given Spain, in return for the bases, we had prolonged the Franco period. It might have died a more natural death, in the minds of many people in Spain, if we’d not been there to support that structure. But you had the whole spectrum of views on the U.S. role.

  —CURTIS C. CUTTER, U.S. political officer, Madrid (1970–1972)

  Oral History Interview Excerpt, February 1992

  Foreign Affairs Oral History Collection

  Association for Diplomatic Studies and Training

  Arlington, VA www.adst.org

  140

  Ana shakes her hands out in front of her. “I’m so nervous.”

  “Don’t be nervous. Just tell me.”

  She takes a breath, gathering strength, and begins to whisper. “This was many years ago and I’m not sure you’ll even remember. But Rafa told me that you took photos at the cemetery.”

  Daniel nods, remembering his pictures. The picture of the nun with the dead baby anchored his winning contest entry for the Magnum. He tried to share the story of the empty baby coffins with news outlets in the U.S. but no one seemed interested.

  “Fuga convinced Rafa that children of Spanish Republicans were being stolen from maternity clinics around Spain. They suspected children were sold to fascist families.”

  Ana looks over each shoulder, making certain no one is nearby. “But what they didn’t know is that it involved my sister, Julia.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “Julia was pregnant,” begins Ana.

  “What do you mean? I took pictures of her baby,” says Daniel.

  “You took pictures of one of her babies,” whispers Ana, trying to bind her emotion. “Julia had twins. The birth was premature. Both infants were small, but one was stronger than the other. The doctors told Julia and Antonio that one of the babies had died. They both had deep suspicions but were too frightened to speak of it. The nuns and doctors were so adamant, and given that our parents were considered Reds, Julia was fearful to say anything.”

  “Are you saying they stole Julia’s baby?”

  Ana nods.

  “Jeez,” breathes Daniel, pulling Ana into his arms. “And how is Julia’s daughter now?”

  “Lali, she’s okay. When she was little, she had a terrible phobia of being separated from Julia. Growing up in Vallecas had its challenges. I have a recent photo of her . . . but I’m not sure I should show it to you.”

  “I’d like to see it.”

  Ana opens her mouth to speak but then shakes her head. She leans in to Daniel and kisses him. “I’ve missed you so much, you could never imagine how I’ve felt.”

  “Believe me, I can.”

  “I don’t want to ruin things.” A tear falls across her face. “But there can’t be any secrets between us.”

  “Ana, why are you crying? You won’t ruin things.”

  “Promise?”

  “I promise,” he assures her.

  She nods, choking back tears, and reaches in her purse. She hands a photograph to Daniel. “This is Lali.”

  Daniel looks at the photo. It’s not Lali. It’s his sister, Cristina.

  141

  Daniel stares at the photo. “I don’t understand. This is my sister.”

  “No, that’s Lali. Your sister is Lali’s twin.”

  Daniel leans back against the bench, trying to absorb what Ana’s telling him. Cristina is a twin. Cristina is Julia’s daughter. His parents adopted Julia and Antonio’s daughter? He’s in love with his sister’s aunt?

  “Daniel?”

  “I’m sorry.” He pauses. “I’m completely thrown for a loop. Of course I knew she was adopted, and I figured one day she might wonder about her birth parents.”

  “No, you can’t tell her. Please, not yet. This is complicated. I’ve known of Julia’s suspicions for years—that she thought Lali’s twin was alive—but Rafa doesn’t know.”

  He stares at the photo.

  “Daniel, please think carefully. No one knows how Spain will transition, if things will change or stay the same. Julia and Antonio have endured a lot over the past eighteen years. Cristina is their daughter. They’ve had two more children so Cristina is a twin but she also has two other siblings. Think of the difficulty in explaining to Lali and her siblings that there’s a twin sister in America. The whys, the hows. Please, promise me you won’t say anything. Not yet. Julia must take the lead here.”

  Daniel nods and hands the photo back to Ana, struggling to make sense of it all. How did this happen? “If it’s okay with you, I’d like to speak to my father, to see what he knows.”

  “Sí, I understand.”

  There’s a part of Daniel that wishes she hadn’t told him, not yet, that they could have vanished inside their reunion and enjoyed one blissful day together. But there’s another part of him that feels overjoyed to share this connection with her. He’d tried so hard to manage his expectations, but the moment he saw Ana in the Sorolla courtyard, his heart exploded.

  Ana bites her lip. “Your mind is racing. Are you angry?” she asks.

  “No, I’m not angry. I’m just shocked. And selfishly, I’m worried this might be the only reason you wanted to see me.”

  Ana takes his face in her hands. “No. As I said, I’ve wanted you for years. I didn’t know the truth until yesterday. Nick phoned after seeing Cristina at the airport. He was rattled and said he had seen a ghost. He felt certain you knew something was awry, that you could tell his behavior was odd.”

  “Nick’s behavior has always been odd.”

  “Only because we tried to stay silent. Silence warps everything. I can accept if there’s silence around us, but not between us. Not anymore, Daniel. So I had to tell you right away. But I promise, this is not why I wanted to see you. I wanted to see you”—she leans in close—“because I want to be with you and I hope you might feel the same.”

  She wants to be with him. Ana runs her fingers across his back. Her touch is both soothing and stirring. It pulls things into focus. He thinks of Fuga and their handshake in the cemetery.

  If someone had told him that he could have Ana but it would be complicated—he wouldn’t have cared. The endless days and nights
on assignment, looking into the sky for her. And now she’s right beside him. Her head is on his shoulder. Her hand is washing across his back. Who cares if it’s complicated. Life is complicated. He lost his mom, he lost his career, he lost Ben, and for eighteen years he lost the woman he loved. But being with her now has brought everything close again. He hears Ben strike a match.

  This is your time, Dan. Grab it and run. Do the stuff you see in the movies. It’s the stuff no one gets to do. But you can do it, Matheson. I don’t want you calling me in ten years whining that you should have done this and should have done that. As the saying goes, it’s later than you think.

  He turns to face Ana. He kisses her. He kisses her again, holding her close and summoning his every strand of strength to remain decent in public.

  “Do you want to meet her?” he finally whispers. “She’s a beautiful, strong woman.” He smiles. “Like you.”

  142

  Ana and Daniel wait outside the Prado.

  “Let’s try to remain casual. Nick told her I was meeting Tom Collins.”

  “The man with lots of ice,” laughs Ana.

  “I’m glad you’re laughing. My stomach is in knots. Maybe we shouldn’t hold hands. Cristina will be confused.” Their hands reluctantly separate. Ana steps slightly apart.

  “There she is,” gasps Ana, her voice catching. “Dios Mío, she’s beautiful!”

  Cristina appears on the stairs of the Prado with Nick and Ruth. She wears a green halter dress with leather platform sandals. Nick spots Daniel in the crowd and gives a wave.

  Cristina bounds directly for her brother. Alight with excitement, she begins chattering in Spanish.

  “Oh, Danny, it’s the most incredible museum ever! The Lovers of Teruel, have you ever seen it? I bought a postcard to show you, just in case.”

  “Did you see the Bosch pieces? They were always my favorite.”

  “El Bosco, yes.” Cristina nods, serious. “Very confusing. Very you.”

  Nick greets Ana and pulls her toward the others.

  “Cristina, this is our friend Ana. Ana, this is Daniel’s sister.”

  Without hesitation, Cristina greets Ana enthusiastically with a kiss on both cheeks.

  “Do you know the story behind The Lovers of Teruel?” asks Ana. “It’s tragically romantic.”

  Cristina links her arm through Ana’s. “You must tell me everything!”

  “Diego and Isabel were desperately in love, but her father did not approve of the match. Diego promised that within five years he would make something of himself and return for Isabel’s hand.”

  “Five years!” gasps Cristina. “That’s a long time.”

  “Five years? That’s nothing,” laughs Daniel.

  While Ana recounts the legend of the lovers, Nick pulls Daniel aside. “You okay?” he asks.

  “Spinning. My head is spinning.”

  Nick appraises him. “But hopefully part of the spinning is good? Seeing Ana?”

  “Sorry, yes. It’s indescribable. Best day of my life. But now . . . this?”

  “Maybe you noticed my shock at the airport. Ana showed you the photo, right? She swore me to secrecy. You have to see Lali. There’s no doubt. What are you gonna do?”

  “I have to call my father.”

  “Let’s get you back to the hotel. Clear your head. Call your dad and we’ll meet for dinner later.”

  “Ana too?”

  Nick laughs. “Dan, wake up. Ana’s spent eighteen years dreaming of you. I bet she applied for a passport the day Franco died. I won’t be able to pry her off you as long as you’re here.”

  Daniel looks to Ana and his sister. While Cristina chatters, Ana’s eyes slide to his. She smiles. Her smile floods him with a sense of hope that pulls all strings of lost time.

  143

  Cristina lies on the hotel bed, eyes closed. “You’re acting weird,” she announces.

  “No, I’m not.”

  “Yes, you are. And I can hear it in your voice.”

  “It’s jet lag.”

  “Liar.”

  He’s never lied to his sister. She understands him better than even his mother did. She truly can hear things in his voice. That means she also sees it on his face. He has to tell her something. He remains quiet for several minutes, hoping she’ll fall asleep.

  “Remember Ana, the woman you met today?” he asks softly. Maybe she’s dozed off.

  Cristina snaps upright in bed. “Yes! The Lovers of Teruel. Tell me everything this instant.”

  His sister’s dramatics make him laugh. “Well, you see . . . I’ve liked Ana for a really long time. She’s a wonderful person.”

  Cristina rolls her eyes. “Oh, please, Danny. We’ve liked our postman for a long time. He’s a wonderful person. Fess up.”

  The vision of Ana running into his arms in the Sorolla courtyard plays back to him.

  “Wait, are you blushing? Look at you! Daniel Matheson, what’s happened?”

  His feelings overtake him. He’s so excited and he’s dying to tell her. “Cris, I’m still single because . . .” He exhales the words, “I’ve been totally, completely in love with Ana.”

  “For how long?”

  “For eighteen years. Since I was last in Madrid. She used to work here at the hotel.”

  Cristina launches from the bed to her brother’s side. “WHAT? Does Dad know? Is that why you became such a sad lone wolf? You were traversing the world, trying to forget about your one true love? Oh my gosh, this is fabulous!”

  “I’m glad you think so.”

  “I do think so!” Cristina’s eyes begin to pool. “For the longest time I’ve felt so guilty. People in Dallas imply that you sacrificed your own personal happiness to take care of me.”

  “That’s not true.”

  “Well, now I know! You weren’t saddled with me. Your loneliness was your own fault. You were pining pathetically for a woman thousands of miles away!”

  Daniel smiles. “Well, maybe not pathetically.”

  “Have you kissed her yet? Does she know that you chucked photography for oil? When will she come to Dallas? Wait, are you going to move to Madrid? Can I come with you?”

  He laughs. “Get some rest. You’ll see Ana tonight at dinner. I’m going down to the hotel’s business office for a bit.”

  Cristina flings herself onto the bed, sweeping her arms open. “Business? Who can think of business? My brother’s in love! It’s the happy-ending version of The Lovers of Teruel!”

  144

  Daniel pictures his father, alone in his study. His colossal mahogany desk stands before a wall of bookcases. The photos of his mother that lived in the study now live at Daniel’s. A sterling frame with a photo of Sissy sits on the desk between his father’s Com Key multiline telephone and a crystal decanter of whiskey.

  “Of course we paid. Adoption isn’t free. But everything was entirely legal and appropriate,” his father assures him. “I’m certain our attorneys still have the paperwork. Have you seen the girl? Many people bear a strong resemblance but that doesn’t mean they’re related.”

  “I’ve seen a recent picture. I thought it was Cristina. They’re identical. Nick saw Cristina and nearly passed out. Do you remember the name of the person you worked with at the Inclusa?”

  “It was eighteen years ago, Dan. I don’t remember. Of course your mom would.”

  “Dad, do you think Mom knew?”

  His father is silent. “Hard to say. Again, everything was processed appropriately through the embassy. I do remember . . .” He pauses. “Your mother wondered about the parentage and the family line. The nun told us that Cristina was sin datos. I remember I had to ask your mother what that meant. We were told that she was simply dropped off at the orphanage with no note. They had no information on the child and told us that her birth date was an estimate. They also
mentioned that some Catholic American couples on the military base had adopted children too. I don’t know if that’s true but that’s what they told us.”

  “Well, you were doing direct business with Franco, Dad. I’m sure you had privileges.”

  “C’mon, Dan. Be fair. I’ve only been to Spain a few times in my life.”

  “Well, now Franco’s dead. If this is true and babies were taken from families, all of this will become public. Everything will have to be acknowledged and set right.”

  His father releases a heavy exhale. “I’m not so sure, Dan. It depends how the country of Spain moves forward. One of the contractors said they heard Spain is heading toward democracy and amnesty was mentioned.”

  “Amnesty? Meaning crimes of the past will simply be erased? Surely that won’t work.”

  “It’s hard to go back and prosecute three decades of old offenses. The Spanish people have endured so much. They may want to move forward and shed all shackles of the dictatorship.” His father clears his throat. “Dan, this friend of yours, is her family angling for anything here? Are they making claims or allegations of any sort?”

  “Dad, no. The only claim they’re making is for truth between us. They’re not even suggesting I tell Cristina yet.”

  “That’s wise. It could open a box of problems prematurely.” His father falls quiet. Daniel hears the ring of the decanter’s crystal stopper and liquid being poured into a glass. “Son, you’ve been a devoted guardian. What do you think?”

  His father is a proud man. Asking Daniel’s opinion indicates enormous respect.

  “If we can confirm it, I want to tell her. Cristina knows she’s adopted. She’s a legal adult and one day she’ll want to track down her birth parents. She’s also compassionate and resilient. She’s helped us through losing Mom, more than we helped her.”

  “That’s certainly true. But we can’t rush. We have to do this right, for everyone involved. And we should keep it silent. Your mom would want that. I know a scientist at Texas Medical Center in Houston. Last time we played golf he told us about something called a paternity test. Let me speak to him. If the parents in Madrid agree, we can do the testing, but it must be done here in Texas. I don’t want Cristina to hear anything unless we get confirmed results.”