Chapter VI

Noon

The cuckoo clock had announced eleven in the morning a while ago. Or a minute ago, perhaps? It didn't matter; time had lost its usual meaning: hoping it would go slowly when she was alone, so she wouldn't have to face anyone; wishing it would hurry when there was someone's reproaching stare on her, almost like a solid weight; wanting noon to arrive... another neatly plucked chicken and there were still three to go, and still twenty minutes or ten or a million, before making it to twelve o'clock.

What will he tell me?

That it's over.

That's not possible.

But how could we be possible?

Jacinta had her back to her, Cresencia was in the laundry area, first door to the left. She would only have to sneak out and head to the library, she'd make up some excuse later on, at this point it didn't matter anymore, what more could they say to her.

What will I say to him?

I don't want it to be over.

Then it will be his decision.

But...

The next chicken was a big one; she started cleaning it. The idea of someone seeing her at the library was a plausible one: what if she opened up the door and it was don Alejandro in there, sitting at his desk? But no: if Diego told her to meet there, it's because the coast was clear.

Still playing hide and seek?

Still…

When the little wooden bird sang the arrival of noon, Josefina was already gone.

No one in the corridor, no one in the living room and… no one in the library either. Her eyes were always naturally drawn to the fiction shelf; she had borrowed that small book with the green binding once, and then he'd given her the second volume to keep. It seemed like so long ago and now…

She didn't have the time to think about anything else, for the bookcase budged impossibly all of a sudden and slid to the right to reveal Diego on the other side, who extended his hand to her and she took it and stepped in because it was the safest place in the world.

"What's this-"

"I'm sorry" she heard: "I'm sorry, I didn't want this to happen. I'm sorry..."

There was also the click of the moving wall falling into place. The strange echo in that secret passage where the air was cooler than in the rest of the house. The yellow light of the only lamp on the wall. His arms around her, the fabric of his shirt and his jacket against her face, his warmth.

"I smell like chicken..."

"I don't mind. I'm sorry, Josefina."

"I'm sorry too… How did he find out?"

"I suppose he either saw me, or someone else did and told him. One of the workers, I don't know. There is no other explanation. I thought I was being careful, but apparently, it was not enough."

"He hates me."

"No. He's mad. At me. He will get over it."

"Will he?"

"I hope so."

She saw love in his eyes. Worry, concern, sadness. All of that couldn't be fake, could it? And... wouldn't it hurt less if she was the one to say it first?:

"We can't see each other anymore."

It took some time for him to reply:

"At least for a while, yes."

"A while?"

"Until things calm down."

"And then what?"

She'd never wanted to become this woman: the one asking these questions, grasping at straws. However, maybe she needed to hear it from him:

"Josefina, I told you that I love you. And I do, I love you and I would like everything with you: get engaged, get married. But right now I cannot… do any of that."

"Why?" she could hardly speak, her chest turned into a tight knot: "Is it because I'm a maid?"

"No, of course not."

"You can tell me if that's it."

"That is not it, you know me better than that. You know that I wouldn't care about something like that, regardless of my father."

"Then... is it because I'm… easy and we already-?"

"What did you just say? Look at me, Josefina, please don't say that ever again because it's simply not true, don't ever doubt that. Our relationship has not developed in a conventional way, we both know that, but that doesn't change who you are and it certainly doesn't make you that word you said, so please don't repeat it. And it doesn't change the times we have lived together, or how I want them to stretch on forever. I can't imagine a future without you. There are some reasons, though, why it's not possible at this moment and I will explain it all some day. Later, when… I don't know when. Some day."

Not possible…

Some day...

"Can I ask you a favor, Diego?"

"Anything."

"Please…" Say it. You have to say it to make it true. "Please don't come to me anymore."

The last syllable was a sob she couldn't hold back.

"I believe... we shouldn't make any rushed decisions at the moment."

"Open up."

"We cannot just leave things this way, Josefina."

"Open up!" She pushed and pulled the border of the fake wall, struggled with it.

"Wait!"

"Let me out!"

"Please, calm down, let's talk, don't-"

The bookshelf gave in at last. She stepped out of the secret passage and back into the library. As she made it to the door, she heard her name again, but didn't turn back. The only place for her now was a storeroom in the corridor where she locked herself in and cried as quietly as she could, next to the brooms, the mops and some discarded pieces of wood.

(...)

Horses like carrots, apples, oranges and pears. They are good extras for their diet and a nice treat when being trained, so when there were too many of those in the kitchen, a batch was taken to the stable for the next day.

Josefina placed the sack on the ground, next to the shoe horses, tools and other equipment. The relief was stelar: she could finally go to her room and stop acting as if it was a normal day when in reality, she was dying inside. That is it: dead. She was dead.

What could those reasons be?

He doesn't fully love you.

He wouldn't lie to me.

He talked about the future.

What future?

Is it over?

You finished it.

I didn't… mean to… do that.

Good Lord.

"Good evening."

Only then, she noticed she wasn't alone.

"Raimundo, good evening. I left the fruits there."

The vaquero, who had been working at the rancho for about a year, gestured with his head. He also blocked the way when she was starting to step out.

"May I help you?"

"You may." His eyes darkened: "You sure may. I've always thought you're very pretty, you know? You almost don't look like a maid."

The hand that reached for her cheek, she shoved it away:

"Don't you touch me."

"What, you're gonna pretend you don't like it?"

He leaned in closer, she tried to get away and then he pushed her and held her against the wooden wall as she threw punches blindly around. It was unreal, how could… why…

"Get off of me...!" She cried for help but no one would help her, right? No one would.

"Raimundo!" A voice called. "What on Earth do you think you're doing, you savage? Let go of her right this instant."

Josefina had already pushed him away, then took a few unsteady steps in whatever direction.

"Ha! Of course." The vaquero faced don Alejandro: "I should have known: it's only with the patrones, heh?"

A full blow in the stomach would have shaken her less.

Don Alejandro approached Raimundo, who was visibly taller than him. Nevertheless, the De la Vega patriarch suddenly seemed way taller and imposing:

"You have one hour to collect your belongings and leave this hacienda never to return."

"No, señor, I didn't mean to-"

"Fifty nine minutes or I will put you in jail for trespassing."

She heard or saw no more, as she was getting away as fast as her feet allowed her to, it was already dark but it seemed darker than ever, pitch black, she had to really focus not to trip and fall, it was when she made it to her room at last and locked the door that she realized she was shaking from head to toe, shaking like she had a fever and was about a die.

Her first impulse was to let herself fall on the bed, but she couldn't breathe, she needed to gasp for air, so she had to pace around the nine square meters as if all of a sudden a window would pop up on the wall or the floor or the ceiling, offering a way out of this mess.

A way out.

Out…

...out.

Under the bed there was the old valise she had brought along what seemed like centuries ago and which she hadn't used ever since. It didn't even matter what to put in it, a few clothing items would do, she couldn't have folded them properly all the while crying like this. Her other pair of shoes, the hair brush, a bar of soap, then the books and the quill he gave her seemed to occupy the whole room and scream for her to take them with her, they didn't want to be left behind but the valise wasn't too big… anyway, she shoved them in without thinking, maybe because she couldn't just abandon the only tangible pieces of what they had had.

Forty two pesos that she had saved; her only shawl over the shoulders; the wooden sphere that was a map of the sky in her pocket, she exited the room without looking back, because she knew that if she did, only for an instant, the pain would make her collapse on the ground.

The back gate would be better, the one next to the stable.

What are you doing?

I can't take it anymore...

What are you doing? Go back.

I can't…

Go back!

"Child."

The unexpected word almost made her yell. It was don Alejandro again. He took a look at the suitcase:

"This is the best decision you could make. Do you plan to go into town?" She nodded, unable to speak. "Take a horse, leave it at the tavern. I sincerely hope this way we will all be able to move on from the shameful incidents your presence has caused."

She mumbled a gracias mixed with a thank you. And just as if she had dissociated from her own body, she saw herself doing mechanical actions such as walking to the stable, picking the first horse in sight and jumping on it, attaching her scarce luggage to the saddlebags, maybe she did that first, she wouldn't have been able to tell. Soon, the horse was taking her away from the hacienda and from Cresencia, Jacinta and don Alejandro, from her daily chores and chicken plucking, but mainly and only, the only thing that ever mattered, snatching her away from Diego.

Forever?

So it seems.

(...)

Note: boy, oh boy! Was this chapter intense to write. It took me a while because most of the scenes were pretty messed up, so I would hesitate a lot before starting each part. By the way, for the Raimundo guy, I imagined the one from the Anita Cabrillo's episodes, the guy that is hired by Diego to work at the hacienda and then tries to rob/kidnap Anita.

I hope I didn't make don Alejandro evil here (?) That's not my intention at all, I totally love him as a father-in-law, ahem! I just wanted him to be pretty strict (as I think he is), considering the time period.

All right! What do you think? Please don't hate me :-(

Thanks for reading as always!