Finally, it was done. Thanks to the methodical workdays, Kilian’s impatience in the months prior to his illness started giving way bit by bit, turning into apathy.
This permeated all aspects of his life except work, where he still stood out for his dedication and effort. He went to Santa Isabel only when it was his turn to buy material in the stores or when Sade threatened that she would come to his room if another month went by without seeing him. More than likely, the threats were Jacobo’s way of forcing him out. Kilian knew she was not faithful to him. He stopped going to the cinema, he managed to get the rest of the employees to stop asking him to go with them to their many parties, and he declined invitations to dinners with Julia, Manuel, Generosa, and Emilio. He felt happy only in the solitude of the jungle, and he gladly accepted José’s company only because he talked to him without lectures.
When Antón had been dead for almost two years, Jacobo went on holiday to Spain to attend Catalina’s wedding. When he returned, he poured a whiskey for his brother and himself and told Kilian all the details of his stay in Pasolobino.
“Everyone missed you, Kilian,” he finished. “Catalina would have liked to have had both of us to walk her down the aisle in Dad’s absence . . . And Mom, well, strong as ever. You should have seen how she made sure everything went well, the menu, the dresses, the church . . .” He chuckled. “She turned the house upside down to get it looking its best!”
“Did you tell her that we can’t both go at the same time?”
“Yes, Kilian, I told her. But she knows nowadays you can catch one of those new planes and be home in three or four days.”
“The plane is too expensive. With the wedding and the dowry and without Dad’s salary, we can’t be given to excess.”
“In that you are partly right.” Jacobo drained his glass. “You know, when you came here four years ago, I had a bet with Marcial that you wouldn’t last a full campaign.”
“And you lost the bet!” His brother nodded. “I hope it wasn’t too big.”
The two of them laughed, as if nothing had happened and they were the same young men full of dreams, as strong as the trunks of the ash trees at the foot of the snowy peaks of Pasolobino. They both gazed into their glasses, nostalgic, until the door opened.
“It’s great to find you both here!” Manuel grabbed a glass and sat down beside them. “I saw light from the window and wanted a bit of conversation. I’d come more often, but I finish up tired, and then I can’t be bothered.”
“That’s what happens when you live in a house on your own.” Jacobo filled his glass.
“I hope for not too long . . .”
Kilian raised an eyebrow. “Are you thinking of leaving?”
“No, not at all.” Manuel raised his glass level with his eyes. “Here’s to my wedding.”
After the initial surprise, the brothers joined in the toast with him.
“Julia, her family, and I are going to Madrid in fifteen days. We’ll get married there, and then we’ll be away around three months. Well, Generosa and Emilio will return sooner, to run the business.”
Jacobo downed his drink and put his glass on the table with a thud. “I’m happy for you, Manuel,” he said in a forced cheerful tone. “Truly. You have been very lucky. Julia is a wonderful woman.”
“I know.”
“Yes,” Kilian added. “It’s great news, Manuel. And afterward, what will you do?”
“Oh, Julia agrees that we will live here, in Sampaka, in the doctor’s house. It’s big enough for a family. And she knows how to drive, so she can continue working in her parents’ shop. For the moment, everything stays the same.”
“Not quite the same, Manuel, not quite . . .” Jacobo tried to joke. “You will be under watch at all hours!”
“It’s easy having Julia as the wachiwoman, Jacobo, very easy.” Manuel smiled.
Kilian saw Jacobo make a face and said, “And have you not thought about moving to Madrid? Won’t life on the plantation be boring? Julia is used to the city, isn’t she?”
Manuel shrugged. “Julia is more from Fernando Po than anyone else. She doesn’t want to hear a word about leaving. In any case, if she finds the adjustment difficult, we can always rent a house in Santa Isabel. We’ll see . . .” He stretched his arm to reach the bottle and get another glass but looked at the clock and changed his mind. “Well, now that I’ve told you the latest news in my otherwise mundane existence, I’d better go. I still have to take a look at a couple of patients before going to bed.”
When they were alone, Kilian looked at Jacobo and said in a neutral voice, “You took that better than I expected.”
“How else should I have taken it?” Jacobo scoffed.
“Lad, you let her escape. You know that I would have liked her for a sister-in-law.”
“Don’t talk nonsense, Kilian. I did her a favor.”
“What do you mean?” Kilian raised his eyebrows.
“Well, it’s fairly obvious. Someone like Julia deserves someone like Manuel.”
“I’m surprised that you are so understanding, Jacobo.” He shook his head.
Jacobo stared at him with sadness, resignation, and craftiness all at once. He raised his glass and gently knocked it against his brother’s.
“Life goes on, Brother.”
Julia and Manuel returned from their long honeymoon at the beginning of autumn, and they moved into the doctor’s house in Sampaka. Julia started to travel every day to the city to work in her parents’ store.
On a rainy November morning, Jacobo went to the shop to collect an order for material. When he parked the pickup, he saw Generosa and Emilio, elegantly dressed, getting into their red-and-cream chrome-finished car. Of all the expensive cars on the island, Jacobo was especially fond of this ’53 Vauxhall. He went over and said a friendly hello.
“Sorry, we can’t stay, Jacobo.” Generosa smoothed the collar of her damask silk cinnamon-colored jacket in the passenger seat. “But we’re late for mass in honor of the patron of the city, and then invited to brunch in the general government.” She pointed to her husband proudly. “Have you heard? Emilio has just been appointed to the Neighbors Council.” The man waved a hand in the air. “Nothing happens for months, and then everything happens at once! We have to start preparing next year’s festival already. It will be the centenary of the arrival of Governor Chacón and the Jesuits, and the diamond jubilee of the Claretian missionaries on the island.”
Jacobo held back a smile on seeing Emilio’s impatient scowl.
“By the way,” she continued, “have you heard about the tragedy in Valencia? Almost one hundred people dead after the Turia burst its banks!” Jacobo had not heard anything. “Well, tell Lorenzo Garuz that the government of the colony has responded to the call. We collected two hundred and fifty thousand pesetas, and cocoa will also be sent. Any help is welcome.”
Her husband put his foot on the accelerator without letting out the clutch.
“Yes, now, good-bye, good-bye.”