Authors: A K Alexander
“All right, you two, let’s go,” Jean Luc ordered. They headed to the warm-up arena. It would be their turn in thirty-five minutes. As their time came, Jean Luc smiled up at Bella. “You can do it. Show the world what you’re made of.” Bella gave Delilah a quick pat and they trotted off to the start box.
“And riding for France this afternoon is Isabella Rodriguez on Samson’s Delilah, owned by the Rodriguez family and trained by Jean Luc Bateau,” came the announcement.
Bella nodded her head at the officials, the clocked ticked down on the ten count and the buzzer sounded as the time began to click off the clock. Eleven horses out of nineteen had gone before her. No one had run a clean course so far. Either they hadn’t made the time, there had been a fall off the bank she was concerned about, and there had even been a refusal, which at the level she was competing at, shouldn’t have been the case.
Moving at near steeple chase speeds, Bella knew that her job was to maintain balance and think with logic. The course was running smoothly but her horse’s speed was faster than she wanted it to be, and the two struggled for a minute as to who was in control. “Not now, girl,” Bella shouted as the wind picked up blowing strongly past her ears. “Not now. I’m the boss. Come on, come on big girl…” Talking to the mare was a given on the course. It seemed to calm both her and Bella. As they flew up the bank, Bella focused on the next three jumps—all ditches with each one widening, and then they would be headed for the drop. The ditches went smoothly, and as they cleared the third one, Bella gave an audible squeal. “Good girl!” She maintained focus heading for the bank and gave the mare a half halt. “Easy, easy, whoa,” she said, felling like they had this.
Bella leaned back with her seat as Delilah plummeted over and started down off the drop. One slight misjudge. One second, one tiny mistake, and Delilah’s back left leg caught as Bella shifted off balance. It all changed for horse and rider in that split second as Delilah suffered a high speed rotational fall, spinning overhead. Bella flew over her mare’s neck. Water, sweat, fear, and a painful scream traveled through the air.
*****
Stunned by the scene witnessed on television, Miguel cried aloud, seeing his sister lying on the ground, not moving. Paramedics reached her quickly, soon followed by Javier, Antonio, and Jean Luc. The broadcast went to a commercial.
Susanna wanted to comfort Father Miguel. But she did not know how as she sat in her own state of silent anxiety. She had seen the faces of the men who had rushed to Isabella’s side.
When the broadcast returned, the commentator announced that Isabella had been taken to St. Michael’s Hospital by ambulance. There was no indication of the extent of her injuries, only that she remained unconscious.
“It is a truly terrible tragedy,” the British reporter commented.
Miguel left his quarters at once. Susanna found him inside the church lighting several candles and repeating the rosary. She joined him, lighting candles for Father Miguel and Isabella, and one for herself. Then she knelt before the statue of the Virgin Mary. Her heart heavy at the knowledge that Father Miguel’s presence at the convent had rendered her safe haven no longer safe. She would have to leave. Her perfect priest had ties into a not-so-perfect family. She shivered at the thought of seeing Antonio’s face on the television screen.
“Are you cold?” Miguel asked.
“No, upset. I’m sorry about the accident.”
“I must go. I have to be with her.”
“Of course. I’ll go tell Mother Superior and Father Juan what has happened. I’m sure they’ll make the arrangements for you, unless you’d like me to.”
“Thank you, Susanna. I would be grateful.”
Back in her small living quarters, Susanna picked up her phone to dial the airlines.
She made Miguel’s reservation and then made one for herself on a separate flight. She’d saved enough money from her meager wages over the years to afford this one extravagance.
Her thoughts were confused about how to break the news to the church elders, so she decided to leave a note on her bed, as if she didn’t know that Miguel was also leaving. She directed the note to Father Juan, Father Miguel, and Mother Superior:
I have heard some very disturbing news concerning my family. They need me now. Thank you for all of your kindness. The information about your trip to Italy is on your desk, Father. God bless. I will not be returning.
Susanna
The woman the nuns had named Susanna left quietly and walked to the bus station for the ride into Mexico City where she would wait for tomorrow’s trip to come. Like Father Miguel, she too, was going to Italy. What Father Miguel didn’t know was that he’d made an impact on her. Lately he’d been speaking to her about family and familial love and although she wanted to put the past behind her, a part of her ached for what had been stolen from her, and today on that television screen when she had seen Antonio Espinoza’s face, she knew it was a sign from God. No longer would she hide behind a name that didn’t belong to her. She was going to Italy to see if her daughters were there as well. Lydia Espinoza was alive and ready to take back what was rightfully hers and to execute her revenge on the man she once called husband. The one she believed who had tossed her into a whorehouse so many years ago to rot amongst the rats and mongrels, and suffer the poison shot into her veins. He would pay dearly for all she’d lost and she thanked God for sending her this sign as she closed her eyes, falling asleep on the bus. For the first time in years, Lydia didn’t have any haunting nightmares.
By two o’clock in the morning Bella still hadn’t responded to treatment, a full twelve hours following the accident. Javier sat in a chair in the corner of her hospital room, with Pedro close beside him. Antonio and his daughters, as well as Jean Luc and his partner Pierre, waited in a room down the hall.
Upon completion of the surgical procedure for internal bleeding, the doctors indicated that it might be a day or so before Bella would wake up. She did not appear to be in a coma. However, her left leg had been crushed pretty badly by the horse’s fall. When she did wake up, she would have to go back into surgery so that they could try to repair it.
“Will she be all right?” Javier heard himself ask.
“We believe so,” the doctor replied pensively.
“What does that mean?”
“We’re not sure if Isabella will have the use of her left leg.”
Javier sank back into the chair next to her bed. The doctor told him that he was sorry, but that he would do everything possible for her.
When Pedro heard the news, he talked it over with Antonio, who immediately made phone calls to find the best orthopedic surgeon for the procedure, and to have him flown in. Pedro knew better than anyone that the loss of her leg would amount to killing her. Horses and riding were her life. Javier was too immobilized by despair to think clearly, and so Pedro and Antonio took it upon themselves to do what was necessary to keep from breaking Bella’s heart.
“I’ve found an excellent orthopedic surgeon,” Antonio told Pedro as they walked down the hall to get coffee.
“Where?”
“Not far. He’s in Holland. He’ll be here first thing in the morning.”
“Thank God. What does he think?”
“He doesn’t know without seeing the X rays first, and talking to the doctors here. But I’m told he’s the best.”
“I hope so. Otherwise, Bella will never ride again. We both know what that’ll do to her.”
Antonio nodded in agreement. Sipping their coffee, the men huddled together in silence, knowing that the next few days would be some of the toughest they and their families would ever endure.
*****
When Bella woke from the surgery, the first person
she called out for was Miguel.
Miguel shifted from one foot to the other. He didn’t want to be the one to tell her about her leg.
“You must tell me, Miguel. Am I all right?” She looked tiny amongst all the tubes and the medical apparatus, her face wan from loss of blood. Miguel had arrived at the hospital shortly before she was taken in for her second operation, with only minutes to hold her hand and pray.
It was the duty of the priest to comfort those who lay in hospital beds and, at times, to advise them of their condition. But here was the friend who’d become his baby sister. Telling her the one thing that could break her heart would take more courage than he thought he possessed.
“Bella,” he picked up her hand. A silent prayer spun in his mind over and over again. He was looking for strength from God.
“What is it? I know something is wrong.”
He rubbed his forehead and sighed. “Your left leg has been badly injured. It appears that Delilah fell directly on top of the femur, and severed some nerves as well.”
Bella stared at him, her eyes wide. In the doorway stood her father and Pedro. They entered the room.
“You’re awake,” her father exclaimed, shooting a glance at Miguel.
“Papa, what’s wrong with my leg?”
“Nothing. The doctors fixed you up. You’ll be fine.”
“You’re lying to me. I know it.”
“It’s the drugs that are making you feel that way,” Pedro interrupted.
“No, it’s not. Is it, Miguel?” She looked at the one man in her life that would never lie to her.
He painstakingly shook his head.
“Get out!” she cried. “All of you get out!”
“Please, let me tell you what the doctor said...” Javier tried to reason with her.
“I know what he said. He said that I’ll never ride again, didn’t he?”
“Bella, listen to your father,” Pedro urged her.
“Get out,” Bella shouted in the strongest voice she could muster in her weakened state.
She lay there, angry and tormented by the fate that had befallen her, a sense of loneliness overwhelming her. She might never ride again. No one had to tell her that. She knew it the minute she woke up.
Bella went over and over what had happened at the trials. What had gone wrong? She wondered how Delilah was. Luc would know. He’d be taking care of Delilah. Thoughts finally drifted into dreams as a drugged sleep took hold of her.
When she awoke, Bella saw Rosa sitting in the chair next to her bed, sketching.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
“Well, hello, sleepy-head. I decided to come visit you, but you’ve been out for quite some time. It’s a good thing I brought my pad and charcoal with me.”
“What are you drawing?”
Rosa paused, hesitant to show her friend. She finally picked up the pad and turned it around to face Bella.
Bella stared at the drawing, tears forming. “It’s beautiful.”
“I didn’t mean to upset you. It’s only that you look so perfect when you were riding, that I thought you should have this.”
The drawing was of Bella mounted on Delilah, sailing over an oxer. Rosa had captured their images perfectly.
She set the pad down and took Bella’s hands. “You have always been there when I needed you, Bella. Now it’s my turn. When my mother died, you were the only one who didn’t chide me or ask me to speak. You accepted my silence for what it was. I think you would’ve been the only one to accept it for the rest of my life, if that’s what I’d chosen to do. You
will
ride again, Bella.
I know you will
. Not only will you ride again, but you will also go on to be the best.”
“I don’t know.”
“Well,
I
do. Life throws challenges our way to see if we can overcome them. We may not know why. There is no explanation for some of the things God allows to happen to us.”
“What are you talking about?” Bella asked, knowing there was some personal meaning to Rosa’s statement.
“Nothing,” she answered, rubbing Bella’s arm. “But I promise that no matter what life challenges us with, we can make it through. We can, my dear friend, we really can.” Rosa looked away and stared out the window, trying to believe her own words. The painful memory of what had been done to her as a child confronted her each day. She made vain attempts to deal with that memory, but she knew that her life’s challenge would never disappear until she made sure that the demon who had done such criminal acts to her had been fully repaid for his cruelty.
Javier was enraged at Miguel for his betrayal. “How dare you tell Bella about her condition.”
“I am Bella’s friend and brother. I will not lie to her.”
“Lie? Is that what you think I’m doing? Pardon me, priest, but I was protecting her. She is too fragile right now to be told anything about her condition.”
“Do you consider your daughter an imbecile? She knew something was wrong the minute she woke up and she wanted someone to clarify it for her. She deserves that much after what she’s been through.”
“What she deserves is to rest and to be told only when she can handle it.”