The Sands of Time
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
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Lucia Carmine paused outside the tabema in Aranda de Duero and took a deep breath. Through the window she could see Rubio Arzano seated inside, waiting for her.
I must not let him suspect, she thought. At eight o'clock I'll have a new passport and be on my way to Switzerland.
She forced a smile and entered the taberna. Rubio grinned in relief when he saw her, and as he rose, the look in his eyes gave Lucia a pang.
"I was very worried, querida. When you were gone for so long, I was afraid something terrible had happened to you."
Lucia put her hand over his. "Nothing happened." Except that I've bought my way to freedom. I'll be out of the country tomorrow.
Rubio sat there looking into her eyes, holding her hand, and there was such an intense feeling of love coming from him that Lucia felt uneasy. Doesn't he know it could never work? No. Because I haven't the courage to tell him. He's not in love with me. He's in love with the woman he thinks I am. He'll be much better off without me.
She turned away and looked around the room for the first time. It was filled with locals. Most of them seemed to be staring at the two strangers.
One of the young men in the cafe started to sing and others joined in. A man walked over to the table where Lucia and Rubio were sitting.
"You're not singing, senor. Join us."
Rubio shook his head. "No."
"What's the problem, amigo?"
"It's your song." Rubio saw the puzzled expression on Lucia's face, and explained. "It is one of the old songs praising Franco."
Other men began to gather around the table. It was obvious that they had been drinking.
"You were against Franco, senor?"
Lucia saw Rubio's fists clench. Oh, God, not now. He mustn't start anything that will attract attention.
She said to him warningly, "Rubio..."
And, thank God, he understood.
He looked up at the young men and said pleasantly, "I have nothing against Franco. I just don't know the words."
"Ah. Then we'll all hum the song together."
They stood there waiting for Rubio to refuse.
He glanced at Lucia. "Bueno."
The men began to sing again, and Rubio hummed loudly. Lucia could feel the tension in him as he held himself under control. He's doing this for me.
When the song ended, a man slapped him on the back. "Not bad, old man. Not bad at all."
Rubio sat there, silently willing them to go away.
One of the men saw the package in Lucia's lap.
"What are you hiding there, querida?"
His companion said, "I'll bet she's got something better than that up her skirt."
The men laughed.
"Why don't you pull your panties down and show us what you've got there?"
Rubio sprang to his feet and grabbed one of the men by the throat. He punched him so hard that he flew across the room, breaking a table.
"No!" Lucia screamed. "Don't!"
But it was too late. In an instant it became a free-for-all, with everybody eagerly joining in. A wine bottle shattered the glass behind the bar. Chairs and tables were knocked over as men went flying through the air, screaming curses. Rubio knocked down two men and a third ran toward him and hit him in the stomach. He gave a grunt of pain.
"Rubio! Let's get out of here!" Lucia screamed.
He nodded. He was clutching his stomach. They pushed their way through the melee and found themselves outside on the street.
"We've got to get away," Lucia said.
You will have your passport tonight. Come back after eight o'clock.
She had to find a place to hide until then. Damn him! Why couldn't he have controlled himself?
They turned down Calle Santa Maria, and the noises of the fight behind them gradually diminished. Two blocks away they came to a large church, the Iglesia Santa Maria. Lucia ran up the steps, opened the door, and peered inside. The church was deserted.
"We'll be safe in here," she said.
They walked into the dimness of the church, Rubio still holding his stomach.
"We can rest for a while."
"Yes."
Rubio let his hand fall away from his stomach, and blood came gushing out.
Lucia felt sick. "My God! What happened?"
"A knife," Rubio whispered. "He used a knife." He slumped to the floor.
Lucia knelt at his side, panicky. "Don't move."
She removed his shirt and pressed it against his stomach, trying to stem the flow of blood. Rubio's face was chalk white.
"You shouldn't have fought them, you idiot," Lucia said angrily.
His voice was a slurred whisper. "I could not let them speak to you that way."
I could not let them speak to you that way.
Lucia was touched as she had never been touched before. She stood there staring at him and thought: How many times has this man risked his life for me?
"I won't let you die," she said fiercely. "I'm not going to let you die." She stood up abruptly. "I'll be right back."
She found water and towels in the priest's changing room in the rear of the church and she bathed Rubio's wound. His face was hot to the touch, and his body was soaked in perspiration. Lucia put cold towels on his forehead. Rubio's eyes were closed and he seemed to be asleep. She cradled his head in her arms and talked to him. It did not matter what she said. She was talking to keep him alive, forcing him to hold on to the thin thread of his existence. She babbled on, afraid to stop for even a second.
"We'll work your farm together, Rubio. I want to meet your mother and sisters. Do you think they'll like me? I want them to, so much. And I'm a good worker, caro. You'll see. I've never worked on a farm, but I'll learn. We'll make it the best farm in all of Spain."
She spent the afternoon talking to him, bathing his fevered body, changing the dressing. The bleeding had almost stopped.
"You see, carol You're getting better. You're going to be well. I told you. You and I will have such a wonderful life together, Rubio. Only, please don't die. Please!"
She found that she was weeping.
Lucia watched the afternoon shadows paint the church walls through the stained-glass windows and slowly fade away. The setting sun dimmed the sky and finally it was dark. She changed Rubio's bandage again and, so close that it startled her, the church ell began to ring. She held her breath and counted. One...three...five...seven...eight. Eight o'clock. It was calling her, telling her it was time to return to the Casa de Empenos. Time to escape from this nightmare and save herself.
She knelt down beside Rubio and felt his forehead again. He was burning with fever. His body was soaked with perspiration and his breathing was shallow and rasping. She could see no sign of bleeding, but that could mean he was bleeding internally. Goddamn it. Save yourself, Lucia.
"Rubio...darling..."
He opened his eyes, only half conscious.
"I have to leave for a little while," Lucia said.
He gripped her hand. "Please..."
"It's all right," she whispered. "I'll be back."
She rose and took a long last look at him. I can't help him, she thought.
She picked up the gold cross and turned and hurried out the church door, her eyes filled with tears. She stumbled out onto the street and began to walk rapidly, heading toward the pawnshop. The man and his cousin would be there waiting for her with her passport to freedom. In the morning, when church services begin, they'll find Rubio and get him to a doctor. They'll treat him and he'll get well Except that he will not live through the night, Lucia thought. Well, that's not my problem.
The Casa de Empenos was just ahead. She was only a few minutes late. She could see that the lights were on in the shop. The men were waiting for her.
She began to walk faster, then she was running. She crossed the street and burst through the open door.
Inside the police station, a uniformed officer was behind the desk. He looked up as Lucia appeared.
"I need you," Lucia cried. "A man has been stabbed. He may be dying."
The policeman did not ask questions. He picked up a telephone and spoke into it. When he put the phone down, he said, "Someone will be with you in a moment."
Two detectives appeared almost immediately.
"Someone has been stabbed, senorita"
"Yes. Please follow me. Hurry!"
"We'll pick up the doctor on the way," one of the detectives said. "Then you can take us to your friend."
They picked up the doctor at his home and Lucia hurried the group to the church.
When they entered the church the doctor walked over to the still figure on the floor and knelt beside him.
A moment later he looked up. "He's alive, but barely. I'll call for an ambulance."
Lucia sank to her knees and said silently, Thank you, God. I've done all I can. Now let me get away safely and I'll never bother you again.
One of the detectives had been staring at Lucia all the way to the church. She looked so familiar. And then he suddenly realized why. She bore an uncanny resemblance to the picture in the Red, the top-priority circulation from Interpol.
The detective whispered something to his companion and they both turned to study her. Then the two of them walked over to Lucia.
"Excuse me, senorita. Would you be good enough to come back to the station with us? We have a few questions we wish to ask you."
I must not let him suspect, she thought. At eight o'clock I'll have a new passport and be on my way to Switzerland.
She forced a smile and entered the taberna. Rubio grinned in relief when he saw her, and as he rose, the look in his eyes gave Lucia a pang.
"I was very worried, querida. When you were gone for so long, I was afraid something terrible had happened to you."
Lucia put her hand over his. "Nothing happened." Except that I've bought my way to freedom. I'll be out of the country tomorrow.
Rubio sat there looking into her eyes, holding her hand, and there was such an intense feeling of love coming from him that Lucia felt uneasy. Doesn't he know it could never work? No. Because I haven't the courage to tell him. He's not in love with me. He's in love with the woman he thinks I am. He'll be much better off without me.
She turned away and looked around the room for the first time. It was filled with locals. Most of them seemed to be staring at the two strangers.
One of the young men in the cafe started to sing and others joined in. A man walked over to the table where Lucia and Rubio were sitting.
"You're not singing, senor. Join us."
Rubio shook his head. "No."
"What's the problem, amigo?"
"It's your song." Rubio saw the puzzled expression on Lucia's face, and explained. "It is one of the old songs praising Franco."
Other men began to gather around the table. It was obvious that they had been drinking.
"You were against Franco, senor?"
Lucia saw Rubio's fists clench. Oh, God, not now. He mustn't start anything that will attract attention.
She said to him warningly, "Rubio..."
And, thank God, he understood.
He looked up at the young men and said pleasantly, "I have nothing against Franco. I just don't know the words."
"Ah. Then we'll all hum the song together."
They stood there waiting for Rubio to refuse.
He glanced at Lucia. "Bueno."
The men began to sing again, and Rubio hummed loudly. Lucia could feel the tension in him as he held himself under control. He's doing this for me.
When the song ended, a man slapped him on the back. "Not bad, old man. Not bad at all."
Rubio sat there, silently willing them to go away.
One of the men saw the package in Lucia's lap.
"What are you hiding there, querida?"
His companion said, "I'll bet she's got something better than that up her skirt."
The men laughed.
"Why don't you pull your panties down and show us what you've got there?"
Rubio sprang to his feet and grabbed one of the men by the throat. He punched him so hard that he flew across the room, breaking a table.
"No!" Lucia screamed. "Don't!"
But it was too late. In an instant it became a free-for-all, with everybody eagerly joining in. A wine bottle shattered the glass behind the bar. Chairs and tables were knocked over as men went flying through the air, screaming curses. Rubio knocked down two men and a third ran toward him and hit him in the stomach. He gave a grunt of pain.
"Rubio! Let's get out of here!" Lucia screamed.
He nodded. He was clutching his stomach. They pushed their way through the melee and found themselves outside on the street.
"We've got to get away," Lucia said.
You will have your passport tonight. Come back after eight o'clock.
She had to find a place to hide until then. Damn him! Why couldn't he have controlled himself?
They turned down Calle Santa Maria, and the noises of the fight behind them gradually diminished. Two blocks away they came to a large church, the Iglesia Santa Maria. Lucia ran up the steps, opened the door, and peered inside. The church was deserted.
"We'll be safe in here," she said.
They walked into the dimness of the church, Rubio still holding his stomach.
"We can rest for a while."
"Yes."
Rubio let his hand fall away from his stomach, and blood came gushing out.
Lucia felt sick. "My God! What happened?"
"A knife," Rubio whispered. "He used a knife." He slumped to the floor.
Lucia knelt at his side, panicky. "Don't move."
She removed his shirt and pressed it against his stomach, trying to stem the flow of blood. Rubio's face was chalk white.
"You shouldn't have fought them, you idiot," Lucia said angrily.
His voice was a slurred whisper. "I could not let them speak to you that way."
I could not let them speak to you that way.
Lucia was touched as she had never been touched before. She stood there staring at him and thought: How many times has this man risked his life for me?
"I won't let you die," she said fiercely. "I'm not going to let you die." She stood up abruptly. "I'll be right back."
She found water and towels in the priest's changing room in the rear of the church and she bathed Rubio's wound. His face was hot to the touch, and his body was soaked in perspiration. Lucia put cold towels on his forehead. Rubio's eyes were closed and he seemed to be asleep. She cradled his head in her arms and talked to him. It did not matter what she said. She was talking to keep him alive, forcing him to hold on to the thin thread of his existence. She babbled on, afraid to stop for even a second.
"We'll work your farm together, Rubio. I want to meet your mother and sisters. Do you think they'll like me? I want them to, so much. And I'm a good worker, caro. You'll see. I've never worked on a farm, but I'll learn. We'll make it the best farm in all of Spain."
She spent the afternoon talking to him, bathing his fevered body, changing the dressing. The bleeding had almost stopped.
"You see, carol You're getting better. You're going to be well. I told you. You and I will have such a wonderful life together, Rubio. Only, please don't die. Please!"
She found that she was weeping.
Lucia watched the afternoon shadows paint the church walls through the stained-glass windows and slowly fade away. The setting sun dimmed the sky and finally it was dark. She changed Rubio's bandage again and, so close that it startled her, the church ell began to ring. She held her breath and counted. One...three...five...seven...eight. Eight o'clock. It was calling her, telling her it was time to return to the Casa de Empenos. Time to escape from this nightmare and save herself.
She knelt down beside Rubio and felt his forehead again. He was burning with fever. His body was soaked with perspiration and his breathing was shallow and rasping. She could see no sign of bleeding, but that could mean he was bleeding internally. Goddamn it. Save yourself, Lucia.
"Rubio...darling..."
He opened his eyes, only half conscious.
"I have to leave for a little while," Lucia said.
He gripped her hand. "Please..."
"It's all right," she whispered. "I'll be back."
She rose and took a long last look at him. I can't help him, she thought.
She picked up the gold cross and turned and hurried out the church door, her eyes filled with tears. She stumbled out onto the street and began to walk rapidly, heading toward the pawnshop. The man and his cousin would be there waiting for her with her passport to freedom. In the morning, when church services begin, they'll find Rubio and get him to a doctor. They'll treat him and he'll get well Except that he will not live through the night, Lucia thought. Well, that's not my problem.
The Casa de Empenos was just ahead. She was only a few minutes late. She could see that the lights were on in the shop. The men were waiting for her.
She began to walk faster, then she was running. She crossed the street and burst through the open door.
Inside the police station, a uniformed officer was behind the desk. He looked up as Lucia appeared.
"I need you," Lucia cried. "A man has been stabbed. He may be dying."
The policeman did not ask questions. He picked up a telephone and spoke into it. When he put the phone down, he said, "Someone will be with you in a moment."
Two detectives appeared almost immediately.
"Someone has been stabbed, senorita"
"Yes. Please follow me. Hurry!"
"We'll pick up the doctor on the way," one of the detectives said. "Then you can take us to your friend."
They picked up the doctor at his home and Lucia hurried the group to the church.
When they entered the church the doctor walked over to the still figure on the floor and knelt beside him.
A moment later he looked up. "He's alive, but barely. I'll call for an ambulance."
Lucia sank to her knees and said silently, Thank you, God. I've done all I can. Now let me get away safely and I'll never bother you again.
One of the detectives had been staring at Lucia all the way to the church. She looked so familiar. And then he suddenly realized why. She bore an uncanny resemblance to the picture in the Red, the top-priority circulation from Interpol.
The detective whispered something to his companion and they both turned to study her. Then the two of them walked over to Lucia.
"Excuse me, senorita. Would you be good enough to come back to the station with us? We have a few questions we wish to ask you."