The Fountains of Silence (38 page)

101

Puri walks down the gray tile floors of the clinic. They look cold, like wet concrete.

The clinic serves only one woman today. She’s been in labor since Puri arrived, moaning and asking for her husband.

“You must calm yourself,
señora
,” instructs the doctor. “Hysterics put undue stress on both mother and baby.”

Puri thinks on the doctor’s comment. The woman is in pain but she isn’t hysterical. Perhaps it’s less dignified to moan about, but giving birth must be extremely difficult. Puri once asked her mother if giving birth was painful. Her mother cringed and waved away the question as if it was not only painful, but too painful to discuss.

Puri takes her place at the front desk. She studies her own frayed cuticles, blocky black shoes, and saggy nylon stockings. Adoption would explain her lack of resemblance to her parents or Ana’s family. Could she really be adopted? If so, did her mother wear a pillow like the woman who came to the Inclusa? Is that why she waved away the questions about childbirth?

After two hours, Puri hears the loud wail of a newborn. The cry is strong and fortified. Good lungs. Vitality. Puri wishes all the orphans at the Inclusa had the strength of this newborn. Especially Clover. Will the handsome couple decide to adopt her?

A man rushes through the door of the clinic. His face is flushed and glistens with sweat. “I came as soon as I was able. My wife is
Señora
Sánchez. How is she?”

Puri knows that only the doctor can provide information. During
her training that rule was drilled repeatedly. She was quizzed on it.

“I’ll let the doctor know you are here.” Puri smiles, wishing she could share the happy news with the perspiring father. She heads through the door and down the hall to the nurse’s area. A nun, still wearing a birthing apron, holds the bundled newborn in a white swaddle. The doctor stands next to her.

“The father has just arrived,” announces Puri.

“And what did you tell him?” asks the doctor.

“That I would inform you of his arrival.”

“Very good,” he nods. “Purificación, as I explained, the mothers are given a sedative during the birthing process. This helps them rest. Please sit with
Señora
Sánchez. You are to come to me if you note any changes in her color or breathing, or if she wakes up.”

Puri enters the room quietly. The woman lies tucked in bed, a starched white sheet pulled up to her shoulders. She’s very pretty. Her color is quite good and her breathing is steady and deep. She is fast asleep, probably dreaming of her new baby.

Puri sits in the chair next to the bed. Over an hour passes. The woman’s eyelids begin to flutter.

“El bebé.”

“
Sí
,
señora
,” says Puri. “I’ll get the doctor.”

Puri rushes down the hallway to the doctor’s office. She finds him sitting behind his desk, making notes in a file.

“The mother is awake, Doctor.”

“
Gracias
. You may return to the front desk.”

Puri makes her way to the front desk. The baby’s father sits in the lobby, face cupped in his hands. His shoulders wrench up and down. He is crying.

“
Señor
, whatever is the matter?”

The man looks up at Puri, his face red and swollen with grief. “I don’t know how I’m going to tell my wife.”

“Tell her what?”

“That our baby . . .” He can barely speak. “That our baby has died.”

Puri backs away from the man, as if the words he speaks are from the devil himself.

No, it is not possible.

She heard the healthy lungs for herself.

No.

She sat with the mother, whose cheeks blushed with fresh roses. Puri bangs through the door and spots the doctor in the hall.

“Doctor!”

The doctor puts a calm, pale finger to his thin lips, calling for silence.

“But . . . the baby’s father,” whispers Puri. “He thinks the child has died.”

The doctor puts a hand on Puri’s shoulder.

“I can see you are shaken. That is entirely understandable. If eel so easily disrupts your constitution, an incident of infant death will of course take its toll. Go home and rest, my dear.”

Puri shakes her head slowly. Her feet are anchored to the floor.

The doctor’s voice pulls taut. “You must steel yourself against these tragedies. Sadly, they’re not uncommon,” he says. “Many of these mothers, they don’t take care of themselves during pregnancy. They don’t eat properly. Some drink in excess. That weakens the fetus. But some are lucky. God will smile upon them and grant them another chance, another child. Perhaps they already have other children. But for now, the punishing consequences of their own neglectful behavior are difficult to accept.”

Puri stares at the doctor.

He nods. “Yes. You must pray for this young mother. And speak of it to no one. If you are strong of faith, you will not even mention it to your parents. Remember, Purificación, it is a sin to reveal someone else’s secret.”

102

“Lo siento
, Puri. Ana is working. She can’t take a break right now,” explains Carlitos on the sidewalk.

“But did you tell her that I was here?” asks Puri.

“
Sí
. I told her. Why don’t you speak with her brother?”

Puri turns to see her cousin Rafa heading toward them on the sidewalk.

“Rafa!”

“¡
Hola
, Puri!” Rafa kisses his cousin on both cheeks. “
Hola
, Carlitos. I need to speak with Ana.”

“
Ay
, she’s busy, Rafa. I just told your cousin the same thing.”

Rafa looks out at the street, as if the traffic sends him advice. “Well, actually, I hoped to get a message to her friend, the Texano. I don’t imagine he’s around?”

Carlitos raises a finger. “
¡Sí!
He is having a milkshake in the restaurant. I will go get him.” The small boy races off.

“How do you know the Texano?” asks Puri.

“Purificación, how do
you
know the Texano?” teases Rafa. “Have you been meeting with American boys?”

Anger rises. She has questions and is only looking for answers. “No! I am not doing anything wrong!”

“
Ay
, Puri.
¿Qué pasa?
” asks Rafa. “I was only teasing.”

Puri sighs. “Nothing’s wrong. I’m just tired.”

“Still working at the Inclusa?” asks Rafa.

Puri nods.

“Still a steady flow of orphans?”

“Of course there are. There are always people who don’t want their children.”

“No,” says Rafa. “People always want their children. But sometimes life commands other things.”

Is Rafa talking about his own mother? She thinks of the letter she saw in the file at the Inclusa.
José will be better off with an adoptive family.

Rafa is wrong. Not everyone wants their children.

103

Daniel appears on the sidewalk, carrying his camera. He smiles while chatting with the bellboy, and Puri notices his white teeth against his deeply tanned skin. His plaid shirt hangs open, revealing a white T-shirt stirring atop his large belt buckle as he walks. Daniel lifts a hand in a wave. He is so handsome. Almost as handsome as Ordóñez, thinks Puri.

Almost.

“
Hola
, Rafa.
Hola
, Puri,” smiles Daniel.

Rafa puts a hand on Daniel’s shoulder. “Texano, I have an opportunity for you to take pictures.”

“Oh yeah? Where’s that?”

“At the graveyard.”

“What’s to see at the graveyard?” asks Daniel.

“Ghosts,” whispers Carlitos.

Rafa hesitates. He looks at Puri and Carlitos before replying. “Well, you see . . . I thought it might be interesting. You could photograph me and El Huérfano.” As if the ignition switch to his idea finally catches, Rafa speaks quickly. “To capture raw portraits of an aspiring matador working in a cemetery. Life before stardom in Spain. You would have pictures of Fuga digging graves contrasted by your pictures of him in his suit of lights. It would be a great story.”

“Your matador is El Huérfano? The orphan?” asks Puri.

“
Sí
. Texano took great pictures of him,” says Rafa.

Daniel nods. “That’s a great idea, Rafa. I’d like that.”

“Good. Come tonight.”

“Tonight? Oh, I’ve made some plans for tonight. How about tomorrow? I’ll need light for the pictures.”

“Okay. I’ll come to the hotel after my shift at the slaughterhouse. We can go together.”

“Any chance I could photograph you at the slaughterhouse?”

Rafa lights with joy. “
Sí
, come to
el matadero
! There is much to photograph there.”

Puri listens to the two boys as they exchange details and location information. Rafa and his bullfighter work at the cemetery. Do they ever bury infants? Are dead children held in the freezer until they’re sent for burial?

Puri thinks back to her orientation at the Inclusa. One of the doctors mentioned that infant mortality rates in Spain are high, too high, in his opinion. He seemed annoyed about it. Are the mothers truly that careless about their health? Would Rafa be able to tell her anything? No, she’d best not ask Rafa. Like her mother says, Rafa talks too much. He shares information with the charcoal delivery men in Vallecas and his friends at the slaughterhouse. Rafa thinks life is prettier with mouths open rather than shut.

“Give Aunt Teresa a kiss for me,” says Rafa. He leaves.

“Give her one from me too,” laughs Carlitos as he scurries back to the hotel.

“Are you here to see Ana?” asks Daniel.

Puri nods. A thought suddenly occurs to her. Could she ask Daniel? He doesn’t know anyone at the Inclusa or the clinic. Could he give her advice?

“May I ask you a question? Do you . . . go to confession?” asks Puri cautiously.

The question takes Daniel by surprise. “Yeah, but not as often as I should.”

“Me neither. I hate confession. They say I ask too many questions.”

Daniel shrugs. “It’s good to ask questions.”

“I think so too!” says Puri.

“I ask questions through photography,” says Daniel. “I take pictures of things and study the photos for answers.”

“And what if you don’t believe an answer that someone has given you?” says Puri. “Is it okay to ask more questions?”

Daniel pauses. “I’ve wrestled with that a bit myself lately. Sometimes I’m wary of the answers.”

“Do you keep secrets?” asks Puri.

“I have. But I don’t like to.”

“Me neither. That’s why I came to see Ana. She knows all about secrets.”

“Does she?”

“Oh yes.” Puri nods. “That’s why I need her help.”

“I’ll tell her you want to speak with her,” says Daniel.

“You’re going to see her?”

“Oh, I just meant that if I happen to see her I’ll mention it,” he says.

Puri looks at him. She nods with certainty. “You’re no good at keeping secrets.”

“Yeah, I am.”

“No, you’re not. You like my cousin,” announces Puri.

“You think so, huh?” says Daniel through his side grin.

“Well, I’ll ask you the question—do you like Ana?”

Daniel leans in close to Puri. “A lot,” he whispers. “Maybe that can be our secret?”

“Trading whispers, Purificación? That’s your name, isn’t it? You’re Ana’s cousin. Shouldn’t you have a chaperone?” Lorenza stands on the sidewalk, brows arching.

Puri’s hands clench. “Mind your own business,” she says.

“
Ay
, fine. Just think it would be a shame if you were issued a yellow card.”

Puri’s eyes expand with panic. She gives Daniel a bob of farewell and runs away down the sidewalk.

“You scared her,” says Daniel.

Lorenza shrugs. “Did I? Oh well.
Ay
, I see you have your camera. Maybe you’d like to take a picture of me,
caballero
?”

He looks at Lorenza. Her uniform is a size too small. Purposely. Her bright red lips and black hair match the flag of the Falange.

“I’m sorry, Lorenza. I’m out of film.” Daniel leaves her on the sidewalk and walks back into the hotel.