Clarence waited till those still eating looked up. Her cheerful and talkative family was seated as they always were around the wooden rectangular table. At the head was Uncle Kilian, who had presided over all lunches and dinners for as long as she could remember. Although Jacobo was older, Kilian had assumed the role of head of the family, and it seemed Jacobo had been happy to accept an arrangement that allowed him to stay linked to the house of his birth without any further obligations. All who were there felt the house as theirs, but Kilian was in charge of its upkeep, renting the fields for grazing since they no longer had cows or sheep, weighing the merits of selling more parcels of land to the growing ski resort, and retaining the traditions, customs, and celebrations of a house that, like all others in the village, saw its history changing with the tourism that had saved it from ruin.
To the right of Kilian, the untiring worker, sat Jacobo. Despite being over seventy, both brothers remained big and strong—Jacobo sported a generous stomach—and both were very proud of retaining fine heads of dark hair even if streaked with gray. On Jacobo’s right always sat his wife, Carmen, a good-looking and happy woman of medium build, with smooth, rosy skin and short dyed-blond hair. To Kilian’s left, in front of Jacobo, sat the responsible and sensible Daniela, who had inherited her dark copper-streaked mane from her father, Kilian, and—according to the village elders—the fine and delicate traits of her mother, Pilar. Finally, at the far end of the table, opposite Kilian, sat Clarence, where she had learned to interpret the ritual gestures of her uncle at each meal. It was easy for her to know whether he was in a good mood from the way he folded his napkin, or how he stared at something on the table for a time.
After a few minutes, Clarence realized that her announcement had gone totally unnoticed. It had been days since they had all been together, and the dinner had led to a typically boisterous conversation. At that moment, her parents and her cousin continued gossiping about the neighbors and the latest happenings in Pasolobino, while her uncle remained lost in thought. Clarence took a sip from her glass of wine. She got on better with her uncle than with her own father. For her, Kilian was open and vulnerable despite appearing to be a quiet, hard, and distant man. Jacobo had a better sense of humor, yes, but it was also changeable and could become bad tempered without warning, especially when he did not get his way. Fortunately for the rest of the family, Carmen had developed an incredible ability to weather his storms, easily directing her husband to give him the impression that his opinions were neither totally rejected nor totally accepted.
How would Clarence’s father react when he found out what his daughter was going to do? After another sip of wine for courage, Clarence raised her voice.
“I have some news! And it might shock you.”
Everyone turned his or her head. Everyone except Kilian, who raised his gaze from his plate with the reluctance of someone who did not believe anything could shock him.
Clarence bit her bottom lip. She suddenly felt nervous. After the intensity of the last few weeks, when she had done nothing but plan—pulling photos, maps, and articles from the Internet and learning where Ureca was—what was going to be the adventure of her life, at that moment, her heart beat unsteadily.
Daniela looked at her expectantly, and when her cousin did not speak, she decided to help: “Have you met someone? Is that it, Clarence? When are we going to meet him?”
Carmen clasped her hands in front of her and smiled. “No, that’s not it, Daniela. It’s . . . well . . . that—”
“I can’t believe it!” boomed Jacobo. “My daughter is at a loss for words! Now I am intrigued!”
Kilian looked straight at Clarence with an almost imperceptible movement of his eyebrows, trying to encourage her to tell everyone what was so important. Clarence closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and let it out.
“I’m going to Bioko on Thursday. I already have the tickets and all the paperwork.”
Kilian did not even blink. Carmen and Daniela let out surprised shouts almost in unison. A metallic sound rang out as Jacobo dropped his fork to his plate.
“What are you saying?” her father asked, more surprised than annoyed.
“That I’m going to Bioko, that’s to say, to Fernando Po—”
“I know perfectly well what and where Bioko is!” he interrupted her. “What I don’t know is what gave you the idea to go there!”
Clarence had the answer well prepared, to outline a reasonable and safe trip and put her family and herself at ease.
“You all know that I’m part of a linguistics research team. I’m now focusing on African Spanish, and I need to do some fieldwork to collect real samples. And what better place than Bioko to do it?”
“I had no idea that you were interested in African Spanish,” her mother commented.
“Well, I don’t tell you everything I do at work . . .”
“Yes, but this, in particular, is something very close to our family,” Daniela said.
“Actually, I’ve only recently steered my research in this direction. There’s very little published on it.” Clarence really wanted to ask them about this Fernando, but she held back. “And I’ve always been curious to learn about your beloved island. All my life listening to your stories and now I’ve got the chance to visit!”
“But isn’t it dangerous there? Are you going on your own? I don’t know if it’s a good idea, Clarence,” her mother said, shaking her head with a worried look.
“Yes, I know it’s not an easy tourist destination, but I have everything planned. A university colleague has contacts with a lecturer there, and both of them have helped me sort out the visa paperwork. Normally it takes weeks to get one! There is a direct flight from Madrid, around five hours, a cakewalk . . . Now that I think about it . . . ,” she added, full of double meaning, “would any of you like to come? Dad, Uncle Kilian . . . wouldn’t you like to see it again? You could reconnect with old acquaintances!”
Kilian squinted his eyes and pursed his lips as Jacobo answered for the two of them.
“Who could we meet? None of the whites are left, and the blacks we knew would be dead. Anyway, the whole place must be a mess. I wouldn’t go. What for?” His voice seemed to break. “To suffer?”
He turned to his brother but did not look directly at him.
“Kilian, you wouldn’t want to go back at this stage in life, would you?” he asked gently, trying to keep his tone neutral.
Kilian cleared his throat and, making crumbs of a piece of bread, answered categorically, “When I left, I knew I’d never go back.”
Silence reigned for a few seconds.
“And you, Daniela, what about you? Would you like to come with me?”
Daniela hesitated, still surprised that Clarence had not told her about her decision. Clarence looked at her cousin, those big brown eyes lighting up her face. She was the only one who had not inherited the green eyes shared by her father’s side of the family. She often complained about it, but their intensity surpassed the prettiest-colored eyes in existence. Daniela was not conscious of this, but people often felt bewildered when they met her gaze.
“How long are you going for?” she asked.
“About three weeks.”
“Three weeks!” Carmen exclaimed. “But that’s a long time! And if something happens to you?”
“Nothing is going to happen to me, Mom! From what they have told me, it’s a fairly safe place for foreigners, as long as you don’t do anything suspicious, of course . . .”
That comment alarmed her mother even more.
“Jacobo, Kilian . . . you know the place, would you please tell her to forget this idea?”