Daniel takes a breath, trying to swallow enough regret in order to speak. “Daniel Matheson. I’m sorry. I don’t mean to intrude. I’m spending the day taking photographs and Nick assured me it was okay to stop by.”
“Nick?” says Ana from the corner.
“Photographs?” The young man beams. “Well, you are lucky, Americano. I’m Rafael and standing in front of you is the next great matador! We call him Fuga but soon he’ll have a new name.”
The shirtless Spaniard with hostile hair stares at Daniel, taking in his height and clothes. His black eyes drill holes, issuing an unspoken warning.
“I can see this is an imposition. I’ll leave. I’m parked just down the street,” says Daniel.
Rafa jumps from his chair. “You have a car?” He runs to Daniel’s side. “No need to leave so quickly. It’s not an imposition. You speak very good Spanish. Come, sit down.” Rafa steers him deeper into the shack.
Daniel stares at Ana and the baby. “I brought you a few things. I’ll leave them.”
From his bag, Daniel retrieves a bottle of wine, two packages of American cigarettes, and a small bundle of white paper tied with string.
Everyone stands in stunned silence until Rafa and Fuga lunge at the table. Rafa tears open the cigarettes and Fuga rips at the white bundle. Yelling and fighting continue until Ana speaks up.
“Stop!”
“Well, if the package is open it can’t be sold,” says Rafa.
“Sold?” says Daniel. “No, these are gifts. The dried meat is from Texas. It’s called beef jerky.”
“I love beef jerky!” bellows Rafa.
“You don’t even know what it is,” says Ana.
“It’s food, so I love it.” Rafa shrugs.
Ana emerges from the dark corner, her voice soft amidst the chaos. “It’s very kind of you, señor.”
Her faded dress hangs like a thin scarf on her petite frame. Despite the change in wardrobe and location, she is entirely the same girl from the hotel and the fashion show.
“Señor Matheson, this is my sister, Julia, and this is her daughter, Lali.” Ana hands the baby to Julia.
Daniel nods slowly. The baby is her sister’s.
The family resemblance between Julia and Ana is evident. The worry and responsibility Julia carries is also evident, appearing through deep lines on her forehead and around her mouth. Daniel notices Julia’s grated hands. They are hands of hard work, similar to those he’s photographed in the Texas oil fields.
Ana continues the introductions. “This is Julia’s husband, Antonio. And this is my impolite brother, Rafael, and his friend.”
“Fuga’s going to be famous. You should photograph him. We need pictures for promotion,” says Rafa.
Fuga says nothing.
“Lo siento, we weren’t prepared for guests,” says Julia flatly.
“No, soy yo el que lo lamenta,” says Daniel, apologizing. “I’ll be going. Nice to meet you all.” He reaches into his bag and takes out two small lavender boxes. “They’re from the shop you took me to,” he tells Ana. “You liked those clover candies so I brought some for you and your sister.” He sets the ribboned boxes on the table.
The quiet weight of awkwardness suddenly materializes, elbowing and crowding its way in. The silence is thunderous. Rafa digs at the dirt floor with the toe of his shoe. Fuga remains frozen, hands balled into fists by his side.
Ana stares at the beautiful boxes from La Violeta. She looks to Daniel. Her eyes fill with grateful, unspoken sadness. Her expression produces a heavy pressing upon his chest. Daniel knows she won’t accept them. He turns to leave before she can object.
“Rafael,” says Julia. “Take Señor Matheson to his car. Make sure it’s parked in a safe place. Take the buckets to the fountain for water. When you return, we’ll all have a glass of Señor Matheson’s wine together,” says Julia.
Rafa runs to grab the buckets. “Hurry, Americano, before she changes her mind.” He rustles Daniel toward the door. “And you will take the photographs?” asks Rafa.
“If that’s what your friend would like.”
Fuga remains silent.
“Of course he’d like that. Julia, don’t let anyone eat that beef jerky without me.”
Rafa leads Daniel out of the shack.
53
Rafael is a burst of energy. He talks nonstop of his matador friend.
When he pauses for breath, Daniel breaks in. “How long have you lived here?”
“In Vallecas? Ay, several years. It’s a special place, especially here in El Pozo del Tío Raimundo.” He swats a fly from his curly hair. “Where in America are you from?”
“Dallas, north Texas.”
The men who’d approached Daniel’s car stand at the nearby corner.
“They don’t like outsiders,” whispers Rafa. “But really, we’re all outsiders. Here in Vallecas we are from many provinces of Spain—Andalucía, Extremadura—but Vallecas is a family of its own. We have to share with our family.”
Rafa sets down the buckets and removes the package of American cigarettes from his pocket. He gives one cigarette to each man on the corner before heading to Daniel’s car.
“You must be brave,” says Rafa. “One Texano against three Vallecanos.”
“Bravery and stupidity are sometimes interchangeable.”
Rafa lights up. “Yes! But fear brings dimension to our lives. Without fear we will never meet courage.”
Daniel thinks on Rafa’s words, on the dimension he sees before him in Vallecas. Beneath his exuberant exterior, Ana’s brother radiates sincerity and heart. “Rafa, would it be okay if I take some pictures?”
“Sure, why not.” Rafa stops walking. “¡Madre mía! Is that your car?” Rafa sprints to the vehicle. “Texano, take a picture of me with the car!” Rafa abandons the buckets and leans against the car with a casual air. “Wait! I have to be holding the keys.”
Daniel tosses Rafa the keys and photographs him with the car. His smile is bright, like Ana’s, and contains two gold teeth.
“I’ll give the photo to my girlfriend,” says Rafa. His smile suddenly disappears. “Ay, don’t mention my girlfriend to my sisters,” says Rafa. “Julia doesn’t want us to socialize outside of Vallecas. Besides, if I’m part of Fuga’s cuadrilla, I won’t have time for girls. And what about you?” Rafa grins. “Do you have a girlfriend?”