Palm Trees in the Snow

“Congratulations. He’s beautiful,” he said. “What’s his name?”

“Iniko,” she answered. “It means ‘born in hard times.’”

Kilian looked up again. “Are these hard times?”

She held his gaze. “They might change now,” she answered, her voice trembling.

They looked at each other in silence.

“I’m happy you are back, Kilian,” she whispered.

Kilian froze.

He did not even know her name!

She had always been José’s daughter. José’s daughter, the nurse. The nurse who had looked after Antón before he died. The caring woman who had comforted him in his grief. The face that had appeared in his dreams.

And he did not know her name . . .

He felt himself redden in embarrassment.

“I’m sorry,” he began to stutter, “b-but . . . I don’t know your name.”

She smiled. Her right hand rose to stroke two shells hanging from a leather collar.

I thought you’d never ask me.

“My name is Daniela Bisila.”



A boy of about two with blond locks and sky-blue overalls played on the doorstep with a Studebaker Avanti. His chubby little hands expertly opened and closed the doors and hood of the small car with its round headlights.

“You must be Ismael.” Kilian bent down to pet his head. “You’ve grown a lot . . . Is your mommy around?”

The child stared at him, wrinkled his forehead, and began to cry.

“Oh . . . Did I give you a fright?”

“Oba!” Kilian heard Julia’s happy voice. “Can you get the boy?”

A small woman with a childish face and hair tied back in a green scarf immediately appeared and looked at him with a surprised face. Kilian recognized Sade’s friend. He frowned. What was she doing there? Oba would not take long in telling her friend that she had seen him.

“Could you tell your mistress that a friend has called to see her?”

“Kilian!” Footsteps approached rapidly, and Julia, dressed in white culottes and a tank top, gave him an affectionate hug. “Heavens above! How long has it been?” She pressed her finger to his chest. “Could you please enjoy your vacations like everyone else, two campaigns and six months in Spain? What’s the meaning of disappearing for more than a year? I thought you wouldn’t come back at all.”

Kilian laughed. “I got back a few days ago,” he said, “but they told me you were away.”

“From time to time, Manuel takes me on one of his botanical expeditions . . . Come in, we’ll have some coffee.”

In Oba’s arms, Ismael had stopped crying and curiously observed the man.

“You have a very handsome son.”

Julia thanked him with a smile and asked Oba to take the boy out for a walk.

“Oba as a nanny?” asked Kilian. “I thought she worked in the shop.”

“She does, but she’s fallen in love with the baby, and she likes to spend time with him.” Julia lowered her voice. “Actually, she looks for any excuse to come to the plantation. It seems the man who holds her heart, Nelson, works here.”

“Now I understand why he’s in charge of purchasing goods!” Kilian followed Julia to the terrace, left his helmet on a low table, and sat in a wicker chair. “And your parents? Is Emilio still involved in the Neighbors Council?”

“He’s got more work than ever. I don’t know how he doesn’t get bored, all day attending to complaints, making judgments about problematic land boundaries, preparing projects, and designing new infrastructure. At first I thought he did it more for Mom—you know how she likes to be on top of everything that goes on around here—but in the end, I think he’s really interested in doing his bit in the development of Santa Isabel.” She sighed deeply. “I’ll go get the coffee, and we’ll catch up.”

Kilian busied himself by leafing through a magazine on the table; on the cover appeared a blue photo of the caudillo Francisco Franco in military uniform with his wife and daughter dressed in matching mantillas over conservative dresses, celebrating the first communion of one of his granddaughters. Julia soon returned. Kilian felt comfortable in the company of his friend, who, on the one hand, seemed content in her new role as mother and, on the other, worried about the political news circulating the island. He was going to ask her how Emilio felt about having a native superior, the mayor, when they heard an alarmed woman’s voice calling insistently for Manuel. Kilian immediately jumped to his feet, and they both rushed to the front door.

“Bisila!” exclaimed Julia. “What’s wrong?”

“I need the doctor. It’s urgent.” She caught her breath. “They have brought . . . It’s . . .”

Kilian had to stop himself from taking her hands. “Calm down, Bisila,” he said in a soft voice. “Tell us what happened.”

“Father Rafael has brought a badly injured man for Doctor Manuel. He can barely talk. He just repeats he’s a friend of your father’s.”

“Of my father?” said Julia in surprise. “Manuel is in the city, I don’t know when he’ll be back. Bring me to him.”

“I’ll go with you,” Kilian offered.

Julia gratefully accepted.

They crossed the small yard that separated the house from the hospital as quickly as they could. When they went up the stairs, Father Rafael came out to meet them. Kilian found him aged. He had lost hair and walked with difficulty. His white suit was stained with blood.

“What happened, Father?” Julia asked, alarmed.

“I was coming back from the city when I found the poor man on the side of the road. As best as I could, I got him into the car, intending to go back to the hospital in the city, but the unhappy soul constantly repeated the names of Doctor Manuel from Sampaka and Emilio. He wouldn’t let my hand go, that’s why I sent Bisila to look for Manuel.”

“He’s gone to the city. I don’t know when he’ll be back.”

“Oh, child. I don’t know if I’ve done the right thing bringing him here, but he insisted. I’ve managed to get out of him that his name is Gustavo.”

“Gustavo!” exclaimed Julia, upset. “Oh my God!”

Kilian remembered the argument in the casino.

“He was detained a few months ago and taken to Black Beach.” Julia turned to the priest. “Thank you, Father. All I ask is you don’t say a word to Mr. Garuz. He wouldn’t like to know that we are looking after someone from outside the plantation.”

“I’m sorry I can’t stay any longer. I have mass to celebrate in Zaragoza. If you think it necessary, when the moment comes, send someone to fetch me.”

Luz Gabás's books