Chapter 8
That can't be.
Here was the first thing that came to Victoria Escalante's mind when she heard Corporal Sepulveda's account.
Felipe? Felipe?! Gentle, nice, always calm and very reliable Felipe?
Felipe, whom Don Diego was about to make his son?
It seemed just unbelievable.
Felipe, whom she had never seen have any improper gesture or conduct toward any young woman, whoever she was?
Yet Lord knows that in her tavern, she had seen many of these young boys, from all kinds of social background for that matter – stupidity being one of the few things that are pretty egalitarian, and perfectly evenly distributed in this world – who, on the grounds that three bristles were starting to grow on their chin, felt obliged to whistle at the girls passing by, to pinch the buttocks of honest female-workers whose job was to serve refreshments and meals, to fight with each other for a mere trifle, or also to heavily insist and press young ladies who had clearly showed their total lack of interest in their own little manly selves.
But she never had to complain about Felipe's behaviour towards anyone in her tavern, nor outside for that matter, nor did she ever have a reproach to issue to him or to report to Don Diego or Don Alejandro.
Felipe belonged to this silent majority – no pun intended here, she told herself – who had gone through that awkward age without causing too much trouble around him, without getting himself talked about. And she was quite sure that the credit went half to Felipe himself and to his responsible personality, and the other half to Don Diego and Don Alejandro who had supported and also sometimes guided him on this occasionally bumpy road that crosses the bridge from childhood to adulthood.
Oh, in the course of service, she had sometimes caught some gazes and stares from the boy towards such and such girl his age (or a little bit older, on occasion), sometimes intent, sometimes admiring, and often curious… but after all, what would be life and openness to the adult world without this strange and constant mystery that was, to both boys and girls, the other half of Humankind? Intriguing mystery indeed, which complexity one is beginning to perceive at this age when childhood has already been left behind but adulthood hadn't been fully entered yet...
Aaaah, boys... what a vast topic to herself too, at this very same age! she then remembered with a small smile, half-amused and half-nostalgic. She still remembered that, despite the limited leisure time she had to spend in reflecting about them, they had intrigued her for quite some time by then – and still did for that matter. Even now she sometimes didn't understand men and their logic... or rather, their lack thereof.
Yes, apparently she still knew only very little more about it even now, as she would never have supposed that Felipe...
No, that couldn't be.
However, Corporal Sepulveda was so positive, yet so surprised himself! He too could swear that never before that day he would have bet one centavo on such behaviour, such a misdemeanour from this young man. But he said he heard the woman scream, and saw Felipe assault her, lying over her and pinning her forcibly while she was helpless and isolated, her state of undress not leaving any doubt as to the boy's doings and intentions...
It was disturbing, to say the least. And precisely, the corporal did seem disturbed.
And sickened, too. It was obvious, it showed enough through his words, his voice, and the look on his face.
Then now, did Victoria too begin to feel troubled? She wanted to refuse it, but still... And besides, willpower alone couldn't control feelings or thoughts, and wanting wholeheartedly to believe in something wasn't always enough to completely believe in it. And similarly, in this instance it was not because she wanted with all her might not to believe something that she managed to entirely blot it out and to dispel the insidious thought away from her mind. Especially with a credible witness's account to back it up, and whose sincerity nor motives wasn't to be doubted or questioned for any logical reason. And Corporal Sepulveda really had no reason Victoria could think about to lie about this sordid matter; she even thought he was among those who liked Felipe, or at least who had a rather favourable view of him. Until this very morning, anyway...
Victoria turned in her bed. It was still completely dark outside but, disturbed by these thoughts that were turning over and over in her mind, she was unable to get back to sleep. Something, she didn't know what, had awakened her in the middle of the night and she knew she had to go back to sleep soon, otherwise she would have the hardest time getting up in a couple of hours, and would spend a very arduous and trying working day due to lack of sleep.
...And over there, across the plaza, in the darkness of his cell, was Felipe having as much trouble sleeping as she was? Had he only been able to get any sleep at all?
...And what about Don Diego...?
He had puzzled her today... She didn't know exactly what to think of his attitude, of the unusual way he acted and reacted. But then... becoming a parent inevitably changed people, and she didn't know how she would react herself if her own son found himself in Felipe's situation. Surely, she wouldn't want to believe either that... Well in any case, she was certain she too would be ready to fight tooth and nail for him, just like Don Diego, even if...
...Even if...? Really?
But no, that couldn't be possible. Not Felipe. Not him. Not Felipe... right?
Suddenly she thought she heard a faint sound. Keeping her mind and ears on alert, she listened intently. Burglars? A customer getting up in the middle of the night?
A visit from Zorro?
No, not at this time of the night.
And that sound again. It was coming from the bedroom next door. The best room in her tavern. The one occupied by the injured stranger.
Was she calling? Quick, Victoria got up and, for the sake of modesty, she wrapped herself in a woolen shawl.
"Señorita?" she called in a low voice, slightly knocking at the door next to hers.
No answer.
She pressed her ear to the wood of the door. Another noise. Then again. Plaintive whimpers. And other cries, a little more pronounced. Then a begging "No!". Victoria decided to enter without further delay, and rushed to the bed. After a few seconds her eyes grew accustomed to darkness, and the feeble moonlight entering through the unshuttered windows let her make out the shape of a body, tossing and turning feebly in her bed.
"Señorita?" she repeated.
But the other woman did not seem to hear her. She kept writhing in her bed, wrapping herself in the bedsheets, her features clearly contorted, and letting out feeble whimpers. Victoria leaned over her. The screams and moans heightened again.
"N-n-no!" the woman let out again.
"Señorita, wake up!"
But the patient remained unconscious. And delirious.
"Nooo!" she repeated. "No, n-n-no, no!"
She was now flailing, shaking her head from side to side, her hands gripping the white sheets, like she was in the middle of some struggle.
"No, don' do th't!" the stranger then seemed to beg someone.
Victoria was about to put her hand on the woman's forehead of to check for fever but she suspended her gesture. Obviously, the poor woman's delirium was plagued with nightmares.
"'beg ya!" the stranger said in a pleading voice that tug at Victoria's heartstrings.
She tried to shake her awake, but to no avail.
"Mustn't…" the young woman went on, "musn' do tha'!"
Her distress and agitation redoubled when she exclaimed:
"NOOO! Don' touch m'! Lemme..."
Victoria's heart sank for this woman, who was so obviously ensnared in the middle of a very vivid nightmare. Unless she was reliving a painful memory? The memory of very recent events...?
Victoria frowned: she didn't want to let this thought creep into her mind. She laid her hand on the woman's forehead: she was burning up. On the bedside table was the herbal tea Don Diego had instructed her to give the patient as often as possible, but in her current condition the stranger was totally unable to swallow anything. All what Victoria was likely to do if she tried to give her something to drink was to make her choke on it and suffocate.
Anyway she knew she couldn't manage to get back to sleep herself for the rest of the night. She therefore drew a chair to the bed and tried her best to appease the poor girl, wiping her forehead, whispering soothing words and waiting for a better moment to give her her medicine.