“I know something happened between álvaro and his father, something so serious that the marquis decided to get him out of the house as quickly as possible; his mother mentioned it too.” He raised his voice and insisted. “Herminia, if you really and truly loved álvaro, tell me what it was!” She turned. “Because if you don’t, I’m going straight upstairs to demand an explanation from the Raven, and she’ll take great pleasure in telling me as crudely and nastily as she can.”
Herminia dropped her potholder and came back to the table. She took the same chair as before. Her voice was very low as she struggled to get the words out. Even though they were right next to her, Manuel and Lucas had to lean close to make out what she was saying.
“It was after they expelled álvaro, just before the school’s Christmas vacation. I remember because Santiago wasn’t back home yet.
“The old marquis was out hunting. He always used to take Santiago along because álvaro didn’t like hunting, and, well, Santiago would do anything to please him. But that day he took álvaro. They came back in the middle of the day, and the car stopped right here, outside the kitchen. A big SUV with a trailer cage for the dogs. The marquis was very angry. All that week, one of the dogs had been refusing to obey, and because of that he lost one of the birds. He let all the dogs out of the trailer, grabbed the one that had rebelled, and started kicking it. The animal was yelping so loudly that everybody on the estate heard it. I rushed out of the kitchen, all upset, because of the way it was howling. I thought a car had run over it. álvaro ran over and got between his father and the dog. His father raised his hand, and it looked like he was going to hit álvaro, but then he went to the car, took out his shotgun, and pushed it into álvaro’s hands.
“‘That dog won’t hunt. It’s good for nothing. You don’t want me to beat it? Then kill it!’
“álvaro looked at the shotgun and at the dog, then with the gun in his hands he turned to his father and told him no.
“‘What do you mean, no? Do it!’
“‘No,’ álvaro told him loud and clear.
“‘Up to you, then; either you do it or I will,’ the old man said and stepped toward him.
“álvaro raised the gun, put it to his shoulder, pointed it at his father, and squinted down the barrel.
“‘I said no.’ He was calm. He meant it.
“I looked up and I saw his mother watching through the upstairs window. Everyone on the estate had responded to the dog’s howls just as I had, and they saw what was happening. I thought the old marquis was going to have a fit. That man expected everyone to obey him, and his son’s disobedience would normally have driven him into a rage. But I knew that the real humiliation for the old marquis was the fact this was taking place in front of all those witnesses.
“Father and son, face-to-face, and neither was backing down. The rest of us held our breath. Then the marquis started laughing, so loudly everyone on the estate heard him, the way they’d heard the dog howling. ‘No,’ says he, ‘you won’t shoot a dog, but you’re not so finicky when it comes to a man! Isn’t that right, you little murderer?’
“Everyone heard every word. He called his own son a murderer. álvaro kept looking him straight in the eyes and didn’t lower the gun. His father turned on his heel and went into the house. He spoke to me when he went by the kitchen. ‘Just like I said, Herminia. More balls than most men!’
“Two days later they sent álvaro to Madrid. And the day the boy left, the marquis took the dog out to the highway and blew its head off; but at least he waited until álvaro was gone. Damián buried it, but he had to clean its brains off the pavement. You may think I’m crazy, but I truly believe that deep down, álvaro’s father was afraid of him.”
Lucas covered most of his face with one hand.
Manuel let out a gust of air before speaking. “Why weren’t you willing to tell me this?”
Herminia waved toward Lucas’s appalled expression. “Why? Simple—I didn’t want you to think what you’re thinking right now. Because álvaro was good and virtuous, the best person I ever knew.”
Damián had nodded at everything his wife said. She got up and threw open the door that separated the kitchen from the interior stairway. Elisa stood there horrified, her eyes full of tears. She stared wide-eyed at them.
Manuel was bewildered. “How long have you been eavesdropping?”
“Long enough, Manuel. Long enough to know that I’m not the only one who suspects álvaro.”
Manuel felt a terrific jolt. He’d been here for more than ten days, in this region that had given him a hostile reception beneath the milky skies of its rapidly disappearing summer, shoving into his face the harsh fact that his whole adult life had been based upon a lie. It had been a journey through a spiritual desert where each new revelation brought new humiliations and pain, almost convincing him to accept the evidence of deceit and betrayal.
He’d shut himself off, he’d given in. For days he’d been expecting that those specters Nogueira warned could be hidden in the depths would quit their watery graves and their bloated corpses would float to the surface. Each time he came across a trace of the man he’d loved, each time he glimpsed a possible justification for álvaro’s actions, another legion of drowned corpses emerged and left him bereft once more.
And then he reconsidered: like Hansel, álvaro had left a trail of crumbs for him to follow. Rats had carried some off, birds had devoured others, and maybe some had decayed in the rain to become forever part of the earth. But devoted, energetic, and as determined as ever, álvaro had laid down hundreds of them, thousands, along with the most important one, the one that was the key to all the rest.
For years Manuel had been an idiot looking out to sea. He’d allowed álvaro to take care of him, and now he saw that was exactly what álvaro had always done. álvaro had been taking care of them all since he was twelve years old. One little boy caring for another, shouldering the responsibility of saving his brother from unthinkable horror; and in return his parents had despised him and repudiated him. An idiot looking out to sea; never again would Manuel be that, nor would he permit the rest of them to do that, even if it meant breaking their necks.
“Don’t say that, Elisa.”
“I resisted it, Manuel, I swear. I never wanted to think so.”
“But . . . ?”
“But I heard what his mother said to him the day the marquis died, when Fran was crying and falling to pieces, clinging to his dead father’s hand. She couldn’t stand to be in the same room with Fran.”
Herminia nodded solemnly.
“Fran wouldn’t listen to reason. I couldn’t get him to leave the body for even an instant. I was exhausted. I was leaving the room, ready to collapse, and I heard them. álvaro was looking out the window, and she said, ‘Now that you’re the head of the family, it’s your responsibility. You’re going to have to do something about your dim-witted brother and that pregnant little slut of his.’”
“And what did álvaro say to that?”
“He said, ‘I know what I have to do.’”
Lucas objected. “That doesn’t mean anything.”
Elisa continued. “The next day, after the burial, Fran refused to come back to the manor. He made us all leave the cemetery. It was terribly cold, and it was threatening to rain. I came here, and I was watching from the window of our room the whole time. He was sitting on the ground next to the mound of earth the gravedigger was shoveling into the hole. I was worried sick. I didn’t know what to do or who to turn to. He wasn’t just grieving, he was raving, about to lose his mind. Then álvaro appeared. He got down next to his brother, and they talked for a long time. It started raining, and they went into the church. Nobody had managed to convince him to come home, and I remember thinking it was a wonderful initiative on álvaro’s part.”
“And you’ve changed your mind?”
“I don’t know, Manuel. There’s some dark mystery hovering around álvaro in this house, and with what you just said . . .”