by Doug Walker
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
Morning came and Doña María was gone, but a servant appeared with a pot of cocoa and a sweet roll. Guy bolted both down, dressed quickly and rushed through the big house and out the back to see if he could catch Kellerman before his departure. They were just loading the surly American into a farm wagon.
“Ed, I’m glad I caught you. Best wishes for a good trip.”
“Good, my ass,” Kellerman spat.
“You’ll like the country, really.”
“Kiss my ass.”
“No thanks. Too early. I may stay in this century. There are advantages.”
“You kidding?”
“No. I haven’t decided, but Doña María wants to remain.” They spoke in English to the bewilderment of the two farm hands waiting to set the wagon in motion. “If so, you know, I’ll be the boss. I’ll look in on you occasionally. Maybe I can help.”
“You can help me by putting a bullet in my head.”
“Don’t be a sore head. You know you were after my job and got it in a rather underhanded way. So you really can’t complain. You’ll be sitting pretty out there, the only intellectual, the English teacher, the great predictor of things to come.”
Kellerman almost smiled. “If you do stay, maybe you can open a toilet paper factory. That would be a hit.”
“You know, I was thinking about that last night. I’m certain I could install plumbing and flush toilets in this villa. There’s a lot of stuff I could do.”
“While I’m stuck in the sticks.”
“Cheer up. You’ll find a buxom country lass who’ll look after you night and day. That is, until the novelty wears thin.”
“About two weeks.”
“Bon voyage.” Then he shouted to the farm boys in Spanish to get moving.
Guy returned to his room and washed up with the pitcher of warm water and bowl that a servant had brought. He then dressed and went down for breakfast, which was laid out on a sideboard. A variety of food was available: sausage, chicken, steak, boiled eggs, three types of bread , fruit and steaming pots of cocoa.
He was soon joined by Doña María, one of her aunts and a couple of cousins. He asked where Kellerman would be working and learned it was just south of a village called Avila, about 20 kilometers or 13 miles distant. He also learned there was a substantial church at Avila dedicated to Santa María.
After breakfast he asked Doña María to show him around the estate. He showed particular interest in the family burial plot with its elaborate carved stones.
Turning to Doña María, he said, “I’ve decided that remaining here isn’t such a nasty idea. There are things I could do, things that we could do together.”
A huge smile crossed her face. “Don Pedro, my lover, we shall drift through life on the wings of angels.”
“Oh, by the way, would you mind if I had a mistress?”
“Oh, by the way, would you mind if I had you gelded?”
Both were smiling, both felt buoyed up by the pleasant day and their anticipated future. “There is something I must do. Something quite serious.” He hesitated, she waited, and then he continued. “I feel I must return to Chapel Hill to clean matters up and retrieve Roberto. How we will explain him, I don’t know.”
“Of course we would reveal our marriage, but still have another, this one genuine. But what if you decide not to return?” The smile was gone and the day seemed not so bright.
“I’ll give you my word, Doña María. We’ve been through a lot together, and I can’t remember speaking about a serious matter in jest, or taking my word lightly. If I don’t come back it’s because I’m either dead or in prison. And, as you know, with a little help, I can escape prison. Anyway, if I broke my word and failed to return, you wouldn’t want that sort of man for a husband.”
She brightened. “How long will you be gone?”
“As short a time as possible. If my life is here, I’d enjoy living it to the fullest. My life will be on hold until I return.”
“A pretty speech, and my feeling toward you is the same. When will you leave?”
“Again, as soon as possible. I’ll talk with Jesus in a few minutes and together we will find his gold. I don’t know what to do about his stash in Lisbon. But we can work that out.”
“If you need help, I’ll send a guard.”
“Thanks, but Jesus likes privacy and security where his fortune is involved. I will get with Jesus, and after we get the gold I’ll see you once more to say goodbye.”
“Not goodbye, but hasta luego. And in bed tonight. Give me the dog, I will keep him here with me as a token, a small hostage.”
Guy handed him over. “Poncho has a taste for luxury. Don’t overfeed him and no more than a saucer of wine a day.” The canine growled again.
“Poncho and I will decide what’s best for him.”
Later, Guy told Jesus of his decision and was surprised to find Jesus had come to the same conclusion. “In America I am nothing, but here, with my gold, I could own a tavern. I would be my own master.”
Guy wondered what his sergeant planned for Doria and found he was content to leave her in America. “But she’s your wife,” he protested. “You have an obligation.”
“There is nothing I can do, my captain. I am not your time traveler. With Doria and Frenesi, the situation is different. They have their youth, their looks, the modern world was made for them. I am past 40 and my home is in Spain.”
“There’s something I can do,” Guy said, edging on anger. “I plan to return to Chapel Hill and retrieve Roberto and settle my affairs. Doria will have the option of returning to Madrid with me.”
Jesus was clearly startled, but did not lose his composure. “I would welcome her back, my captain. In fact, I will return with you on this mission if you like. I am no coward and no blackguard.”
“You please me, Jesus. But I shall go alone. But I will take a few of your coins with me, enough for expenses and possibly to make a gift to Doria and her sister if they wish to remain in the States. When can we retrieve this treasure?”
Jesus smiled. “I have it now. While you slept. It’s hidden in my room. Come on, I’ll show you.”
The coins, mostly gold and fairly heavy, were in four leather bags. Several of them in near mint condition. Guy picked four of the best. “It’s a good thing you didn’t bring these along with the Armada. I don’t think we could have brought them safely through.” He hefted the bags. “Do you want me to have Doña María secure these in a family vault?”
Trusting as he was of Doña María, Jesus had the suspicion of a peasant. Hadn’t the ruling class had its heel on the peasants since time began? Could any of them be trusted to safeguard gold? “If you think it’s best, my captain. There are four bags. I would have her store three away. The fourth I can distribute through my clothing.”
“I understand.” And indeed Guy did. In more than one instance nobles with the Armada had drowned making their way ashore because of heavy gold pieces sewn into their clothing. “Tonight I will spend with Doña María and tomorrow I will travel across the miles and across the centuries.” With his short sturdy frame and awesome appearance, capped by that one bad eye, Guy was certain Jesus could store and safeguard large quantities of gold on his person.