Authors: Silvina Niccum
Tags: #scifi, #angels, #fantasy, #paranormal, #young adult, #supernatural, #christian
During the fights he often
had with Anabella, Ricardo sought comfort in the arms of a couple
of the other girls from the town. But now one of them claimed to be
expecting a child—his child. He feared that rumor of this would
reach Don Marco’s ears, and ruin his prospects with the
plantation…and Celeste. So right after dinner, he announced, that
he had to take care of some impending business in Madrid that could
not be put off any longer. He figured that his absence might subdue
any rumors—or at the very least, he would not have to face that
girl again.
I noticed that Max looked
at him steadily with his piercing eyes. If I hadn’t known better I
would say he was reading Ricardo’s mind or sending him a subliminal
message. Ricardo could not endure the stare for too long and
quickly looked away, trying to hide his lies from the
Priest.
I, however, could read
their thoughts, and I felt like I was living in two worlds at the
same time. In one world I could hear the conversations that were
spoken, and in the other, I could hear the unspoken ones. This was
not unusual for me, but tonight the unspoken conversations were
especially interesting.
Apparently the two girls
had confessed to Max earlier today, and one of them had named
Ricardo as the father of her unborn child. Max had been extremely
civil with Ricardo, but now his mercy was wearing thin; and if
Ricardo was intimidated by Max’s stare, I would have loved to have
seen how he felt about Max’s thoughts!
“
You have more impending
business in Madrid, than you have here?” Max asked with
indifference, as he took a casual sip of his wine.
Ricardo’s face turned pale.
Don Marco knitted his eyebrows and looked questioningly at Max—who
presently seemed to be more interested in the wine than the answer
to his question.
Don Marco looked from one
face to the other. “As far as I know, Ricardo has managed to avoid
almost all business with me,” Don Marco added dryly, and he too
took a sip of wine.
“
Well,” Ricardo said in
his most confident and jovial voice, “I did say I would help
Ernesto stack the grain in the barn, but I’m sure the Padre here
would be willing to pitch in and help with that. My bad leg has
been acting up lately—a war injury, you know.” He winked at
Celeste.
A year had passed since the
Quinceañera party, and no one in the DeLeon family was fooled by
Ricardo’s ways, yet no one attempted to un-invite him, or point out
his deficiencies.
Upon hearing no reply from
anyone in the dining room, Ricardo excused himself and left the
room. Once he was gone, Max resumed a previous conversation about
Don Marco’s workers and their welfare.
Celeste sat, like her
mother, quietly. But unlike her mother, she listened to the men’s
conversation. She understood everything they talked about, got
every joke, and knew the affairs of her father better than Ricardo
ever did. If only Don Marco knew what kind of daughter he had, if
only his own prejudices against women would allow him to see the
reality of his own good fortune. But it was not meant to be that
way for Celeste, and she dove into the only thing that was not
denied to her—her studies and her hobbies. She had been
experimenting with grafting roses and was anxious to see what the
spring would bring in terms of color and smell.
Life at the estancia
without Ricardo was more enjoyable for just about everyone—with the
exception perhaps of that girl he left behind, heartbroken. Without
Ricardo around, the whole household fell into old habits and
routines and submerged into their own particular lives. These
months were a great relief for Celeste, who was not cut out to
crochet all day long, and she was free again to do as she
pleased
.
Today was a particularly
hot summer day, so she went to the river bank to work on her
sketches of the local birds and flowers, but soon she was too hot
to finish. She looked around and a mischievous smile crossed her
face. She undressed to her slip and got into the water. She swam a
little against the soft current, then turned on her back and
floated downstream a little ways.
Not wanting to get too far
from her spot, she would turn herself and swim upstream only to do
the same, over and over again. Her long curly blond hair spread
like the rays of the sun around her face. She kept her eyes opened
and looked straight up at the sky. I floated above her and she
looked peaceful, but her mind was troubled. She was thinking a
great deal about her life, and what her future held in store. She
seemed certain of two things. First, she would never marry Ricardo
and second, she would not live in this home. She had no idea why
she was so certain of these two things, but they were quite clear
to her.
I, of course, was the one
who instilled those thoughts about not marrying Ricardo, and felt
quite proud of myself for that influence. But the latter was not my
doing. As much as she loved her roses and the comforts of this
house and this life, she actually hated living here. She wanted to
go to a different land, a place where she could be free and not be
expected to be anyone but herself.
She didn’t hate Spain, but
she did dream of going to South America. She had heard stories of
people who had been there and who said it was beautiful. Argentina
for some reason stood out in her mind. She had studied as much as
she could about the place and had deemed it her personal paradise.
She cared nothing for the splendors of the rest of Europe. She
wanted what she thought would be an untamed life and
adventure.
From where I floated, I
could see Max coming up the lane, book in hand, reading as he made
his way to his next appointment. He had a leather bag strapped
across his chest and was eating a juicy pear that was increasingly
becoming more of a hassle than he had first anticipated. The heat
was apparently oppressing, but there was not much he could do about
it—that is until he crossed the bridge and realized that there was
a river right below him.
The thought of taking a
quick dip in it was very tempting, especially since he was all
sticky from the pear juice. He could hardly show up at his next
appointment sweaty and sticky to boot.
In two long strides he was
down the slope and at the river’s edge. He was about to take his
robe off right there, but decided that it would be better not to
leave evidence of his presence next to the bridge. So he walked up
stream a little ways before finding a more secluded
spot.
I took frantic looks
between the two. Neither one aware of the fact that they were just
a few bushes away from each other and both wearing nothing but
their under garments.
I looked all around me
anxiously for Leo, hoping to avert such an indecent encounter
between the two, but he was nowhere to be found.
To no avail I tried to get
Celeste to hurry out of the water, but she seemed intent on
enjoying the water as long as possible, dunking her head in and
staying under for as long as her lungs would allow.
Max was now a few feet away
from her and still, neither was aware of the other’s presence. I
covered my face in frustration, but spread my fingers so I wouldn’t
miss anything either. Then I heard a hearty laugh from behind
me.
“
You are a devil, Leo!” I
punched him in the arm. He laughed even louder.
“
Shh, we’ll miss all the
fun!” he teased back. I turned to look at the inevitable blunder
between a girl and her young, handsome priest.
Max was looking up at the
treetops as he made his way effortlessly upstream on his back, and
only happened to turn on his stomach when Celeste dove under the
water.
Then in one instant, and
inches away from each other, Celeste’s head popped up for air as a
startled Max looked straight in front of him. They stared at each
other for a moment in complete silence. She didn’t scream—though I
shrieked—and he was paralyzed in place in spite of the
current.
Leo burst out laughing even
louder this time and I punched him on the shoulder once
more.
“
S-Sorry,” they both said
at once. Then they fumbled their way into explanations as to why
they were there.
“
I better go dry off,”
said Celeste hastily, her face flushed crimson. She turned toward
the shore, and as she began to get out she suddenly realized that
her wet slip did not provide much cover, so she immediately dunked
herself back in the water. Her face was now so flushed that her
ears burned and a red streak ran all the way down her
neck.
She couldn’t face Max, so
she kept her face toward the shore.
Max was still frozen in
place, eyes bulging out. Leo laughed again and I shoved him clear
across the river.
“
Ahh, right…” Max cleared
his throat, and turned his head as well, but in the opposite
direction. “I’ll go back that way…where I came from.” He turned to
leave then hesitated for a minute. “I’ll see you later.”
Celeste bit her lip.
“Yeah…I’ll make sure to be dressed next time,” she said letting out
an involuntary giggle.
Max heard her, but offered
no reply. He looked clammy and still in shock, as he made his way
downstream.
“
You knew about this, and
didn’t come when I called you. You are a perfect little devil,” I
reproached Leo.
“
Oh, it’s just a little
bit of fun. No harm done!” he said dismissively.
“
None that we know of.
What if someone saw them?”
“
Impossible, we would have
sensed them,” he insisted.
“
I didn’t feel you
coming.”
“
Yeah, you were too busy
peeking,” Leo teased, as he came back to my side.
“
So this is how you get
people together, you cheat!” I pushed him again,
“
It’s not cheating,” he
assured. “We know what’s good for them better than they do,” he
said, rubbing the spot as if he could feel the pain.
“
But we can’t
interfere!”
“
Reality check, Tess, you
already have. In fact you have been interfering from day one.
Remember those bedtime stories you fed her from the
crib?”
“
But your way is bolder
than mine,” I said meekly.
“
That’s because it’s
crunch time, and these two have to fall in love and get married, or
I’ll never be born,” he said, showing for the first time how deeply
he felt about this.
I stared at him in
disbelief.
“
How can you know?” I
asked.
“
I just had my
pre-ordination chat with the High Council.” His voice had an odd
edge to it. And if I wasn’t mistaken, his aura betrayed a little
bitterness.
“
A what?”
“
You know. The meeting
where your life’s mission and all that get settled.” He looked at
me hoping to find some sort of understanding in my face. “Before
your life begins?”
“
Oh…that. They can tell
you who your parents will be?” I asked, perplexed.
“
No. But I
guessed.”
“
Oh. So…why are you
upset?”
He looked taken back, as if
he was impressed at my ability to discern his mood.
Then his face softened.
“It’s not that I am mad or anything. It’s just that…I think…I don’t
know… I’m nervous, I guess.”
“
About what?”
He folded his arms and
looked down. His thoughts were all in a jumble. He was trying to
pinpoint the source of his uneasiness, but could find no particular
one.
“
I don’t know. Something
is bothering me, but I can’t figure out what.”
“
Yeah, I can tell. Don’t
worry, it’ll come to you later. If not, you might want to request
another audience with the High Council.”
He looked steadily at me,
deep in thought.
“
You are right. It’ll come
to me,” he said and brightened a bit.
“
You should go find Irene.
She’ll help you.” I thought I would voice this idea, since I saw
that he wanted to talk to her desperately.
“
Thanks, I think I will.”
He looked at me for a moment, and then gave me a quick hug before
leaving. He was up past the treetops when he stopped and yelled,
“Make sure they run into each other a lot!”
I chuckled and wished I had
something spiritually solid to throw at him.
* * * * *
Chapter 28
“
Forgive me, Father, for I
have not sinned.”
Max recognized the voice
behind the panel at once and was very glad the partition covered
his scarlet face.
“
How long since your last
confession?” he said, trying hard to disguise the lump in his
throat. “Wait! What did you just say?” Why did this girl always
throw him off kilter?
“
Well…you know it was just
last week. But the truth is…I haven’t sinned at all, so why lie?
Confessing would be like lying, wouldn’t it?”
Max thought about this for
a moment and suppressed a chuckle.
“
I guess it would. So, why
don’t you tell your mother that you have nothing to
confess?”