by Kevin Craig
I don’t think anyone wants to brave breaking the silence. It feels too sacred, but I’m not surprised when it’s Bastien who does so. I take my eyes off the Milky Way when he clears his throat, steps away from the others, and turns his gaze upon me.
“Guard these your children who, for love of your Name, make a pilgrimage to Compostela,” he begins. As though he was a galaxy more spectacular than the one above us, the others all bring their gazes back to earth and look to Bastien. Before he continues, he turns his gaze to the stars. I let the tears fall freely as I prepare for the rest of his words.
“Be their companion on the way, their guide at the crossroads, their strength in weariness, their defense in dangers, their shelter on the path, their shade in the heat, their light in darkness, their comfort in discouragement.”
Bastien pauses. Comfort in discouragement, I think to myself. I let the words sink in because I’m an absolute wreck. My grandmother would love this.
Shania offers her hand, and I take it. I’m not sure who makes the next move, but eventually we’re a circle of near-strangers all linked by our hands, orbiting the planet of our new friend who came out of the blue to save me this afternoon. He’s saving me still.
“And the firmness of their intentions…” He continues. “…that through your guidance they may arrive safely at the end of their journey and, enriched with grace and virtue, may return to their homes filled with salutary and lasting joy.”
When he stops reciting this gift he has given us, we return to silence. Inside the silence, I hear sniffling. I look over to see that Greg is crying. As I look about me, I see only sadness. I can’t help but feel responsible.
“That was beautiful, Bastien,” Claire says. I’m pretty sure these are the first words she has spoken to him, but in them I can see she’s as mad about him as the rest of us are.
“These are not my words, ma chère. These are words of prayer from the books of the Codex Calixtinus. From the twelfth century. The first pilgrims’ guide to the Camino de Santiago. Tonight, they are our words. Tonight, we pay our respects to the abuelita of our new friend Diego.”
We are all standing in the Church of Bastien. This guy. I fell into the right person today. I can’t believe that was only today. It feels like a lifetime ago.
“Please, to continue holding hands,” Bastien says. “We pray for the bones of…”
He looks to me and I somehow know he wants my grandmother’s name.
“Isabel. Isabel Maritza Correa.” He nods his thanks.
“Tonight we pray for the bones of Isabel Maritza Correa. Maritza—the star of the sea—like the stars that shine above us.”
I’m not surprised he knows the meaning of her middle name.
“That these bones may be at rest, that she may be free of weariness. That she may be home. She looks down on us, peregrinos of The Way. Now our guardian angel. We pray for her grandson. Diego…”
“Epifanio Nelson.” This time it’s even more obvious what he wants. I feel the heat in my face as I share my middle name, afraid the others may say something. I especially don’t want to see Shania laugh. It’s not like I picked it out myself. Nobody moves a muscle, though. They’re all completely focused on Bastien’s prayer.
“We pray for her grandson, Diego Epifanio Nelson. Epifanio, he who shines brightly. It had to be so. We pray for he who shines brightly below this Milky Way. Below this Voie Lactée, which guides our way to the cathedral. We pray for her family, her little girl back home in Canada.” Bastien winks at me as he says this, and I recall my little freak-out at being mistaken for an American. “And her little grandson here on the Camino. May he find peace in The Way.”
There is only silence now. When Bastien looks away from us and up into the Milky Way, we slowly follow his gaze. We all look again to the endless gathering of stars above us. Only the sounds of the night around us remain.
“Amen,” Bastien eventually whispers. We repeat the word in unison. And I’m crying again. Bastien comes forward and hugs me. I don’t know what to make of his kiss on my forehead, but I think I like it. When he is finished, he steps back.
Everyone hugs me in turn. This ritual is one of the greatest things that has ever happened to me. Even if it came from losing my one and only abuelita.
“That was beautiful, Bastien,” Gil says. His words help to break the spell.
“Yes. Thank you, Bastien,” Meagan says. “We needed that.”
Bastien takes a deep bow; his white hair glows in the darkness. When he rises, his smile is as real as the sorrow in his eyes.
“We need to hit the sheets now, gang,” Gil says. “I think we can forego a discussion group tonight. You’ve all earned that at least. Tomorrow, new rule. We walk together. At least for the one day.”
Nobody moans or complains. Not outwardly, anyway.
“This is a good idea, I think,” Bastien says.
“I’m good with it,” Shania says.
“Me too,” says Troy. But he gives Claire a dirty look after he says it. Something’s going on there, but I don’t know what it is.
“That was some spectacular stuff you did here, Bastien,” Greg says. “Magic. Thank you, man.”
“But of course,” Bastien says. Greg walks silently past him, but nods to him in appreciation.
“Let’s go, children,” Meagan says. “Sleep beckons.”
We head into the albergue and, despite how I feel, I know I’ll sleep like a rock. I can’t wait to get into my bunk and pass out. Longest. Day. Of. My. Life.
Chapter 20 — Shania Reynolds
Thursday, July 4th – Day 6 – I Hate This SO Much!
Today, we walk together. Everyone already got their passports stamped at the front desk. We’re just waiting for, you guessed it, Claire. It’s not like she slept in, though. We all made sure of that. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t laugh when Troy put his feet on the bunk above him and shook the crap out of it to wake her up. Serves her right. She claimed to need to go to the washroom as we were heading out the door. She still hasn’t come down, ten minutes later.
Gil’s about to blow. And Troy is cursing under his breath. Manny is trying to stuff more food into his mouth before either it disappears or we do.
Diego stands by the door staring off into space. He cried off and on all night. I’m sure we all heard him. We were all restless, lying helplessly in the dark and feeling useless. I think we’ll have to physically guide his every move today. He’s like an automaton. Just point him in the right direction, and he’ll walk. He’s broken. His brain is back home in Toronto with his mother.
Meagan stomps up the stairs, and it sounds like her feet are going to go through them. The tension mounts. Enough words for now. I don’t want to be the one to keep us waiting, ever. I would so hate that. Bright side—gotta remember to add this at the end of my entries. Today’s bright side is Bastien. Nuff said.
And we’re off. Finally.
“Thanks for joining us, princess,” Troy says to Claire as she stomps down the stairs ahead of Meagan. “Do you think we might be able to go now?”
“I don’t know, smartass,” Claire says. “You can give it a try.”
“Yeah.” He pivots and heads out the door. “Whatever.”
Once we’re out in the road, Gil says, “Remember, kiddos, this is going to be an uphill day. Tomorrow’s going to be the hardest, but that doesn’t mean today’ll be a picnic.”
“Man. The more you talk about tomorrow, the more I want to just turn around and walk back to Ponferrada. You guys are killing me.” Everyone stops what they’re doing to look at Greg. It’s the most he’s ever said at one time. In the silence that follows, I burst out laughing. Then I feel guilty for laughing because Diego’s grandmother died.
But then everyone else, including Diego, laughs. Maybe we needed to. Maybe Greg knew it.
“Goodbye,
Trabedelo. Been nice knowing you,” Greg says, now more than doubling his word count since boarding the plane. “You kicked our asses, but you also gave us the stars. So, yeah, thanks.”
“Okay, kids,” Gil says. “Let’s go. The sooner, the better. It’s gonna be a scorcher today. Did everyone sunscreen?”
“Oops,” Claire says. “Let me just—”
“No,” Manny says. “Not havin’ it. Just, no. Lady, you keep us waiting any more, I’ll snap. Enough is enough. You’re worse than my sisters.”
“Hear, hear,” Troy says, and I could dance, it makes me so happy. This girl needs to get with the program.
I look around, and everyone’s smiling except for Diego. I want to hug him, because I’m pretty sure he’s thinking about his mother. I wonder if he feels like he’s walking away from her or toward her. Poor Diego.
“Here, Claire,” Meagan says, taking her tube of sunscreen out of the side pocket of her backpack. “Come on. Walk with me. I’ll help you slather up while we walk. The peasants are revolting.”
“Tally-ho,” Bastien says. He turns in the direction we need to walk and stamps his walking stick against the road for emphasis. With his words, we set out. I move alongside Manny, because I see that Troy has just buddied up with Diego.
Gil and Bastien lead the pack. Bastien doesn’t need a map, since it’s his third time doing this thing. Three days ago, if someone had told me it was their third time walking the Camino, I may have just hauled off and hit them. Today? I get it. There’s just something about this place that makes you forget all the crap back home. The people and the beauty here soften everything.
“Hey, Manny,” I say, after we walk a few minutes in silence.
“Um, hey?”
“You gonna make this difficult on me, eh?”
“Girl, what are you talking about?”
“Conversation.”
Greg passes us, shuffling his feet as he goes. “Coming through.”
“Nah,” Manny says to me, ignoring Greg. “We’re good. Whatcha wanna talk about?”
“For starters, what did you and Greg even talk about yesterday? He’s so weird.”
“Nope,” he says. “You read him wrong, Shania. He’s cool. Just gotta get to know him some. He’s a pretty funny guy. Some people are like that. All inside themselves at first. He’s cool. He’s just carrying stuff. A lot of stuff. He’s got heavy things happening at home.”
“Yeah.” I laugh. “Like Claire.”
“I don’t know about that. I’ll reserve judgement. I don’t know much about her. She’s a good listener, though. I told her about some of my stuff. She’s okay.” He raises an eyebrow comically and grins like he has a secret. Manny could be a model. He has the most perfectly straight white teeth I’ve ever seen. And his hair.
“I wonder how Troy would answer that one.”
“Not sure I know what you mean.” He kicks through the stones as we move from beaten asphalt to gravel. As we leave the town, the path narrows before we make our way to a road and walk the shoulder alongside it.
“I don’t know. It just seems like there’s something going on between them. Like they’re pissed at each other.”
“Wouldn’t know. Oh, we’re getting the wave.” He signals up ahead.
Bastien and Gil wave us all across the road to walk on the other side, so we cross. Greg passes Diego and Troy and moves up beside Gil. I can see that he slips himself easily into their conversation. So he does talk regularly. Just not so much to me, yet. Okay.
I can hear Meagan and Claire’s conversation behind us. They’ve moved on from sunscreen to granola bars. Apparently we all moved too fast this morning for princess to get a chance to have a proper breakfast. Funny, I saw her eating.
“Too bad about my boy Diego’s nana.” Manny shakes his head and makes a little tsk tsk sound with his lips.
“Yeah,” I say. “He totally doesn’t deserve it. I mean, I guess no one does. But, Manny, he’s just so sweet.”
“Right!” he says. “I don’t know what I’d do. My nana? Man, she is everything, Shania. Sometimes, when the noise is just out of this world insane back home and I’m about to pull my hair out or kill one of them… I just pack up a knapsack, head across town, and flop at Nana’s for a night or two.”
“Are you kidding me?”
“What?”
“It just seems so wholesome. Damn. Between you and Diego, I don’t know which one of you is more unreal.”
“Hey, watch what you say,” he says. But he’s laughing. “For us boys, there’s one person we stop the world for. That’s our nana. Or, what is it Diego calls his, his abuel…”
“Lita.” I say as he stumbles over the word.
“Right. Anyways. You don’t make fun of a boy and his nana. Besides, you try living in a house with five brothers and sisters. It’s insane. You don’t get to turn that shit off, girl. My nana is my safe place. My island. I’m staying with her in two years when I go to university. She’s closer to campus. I’ll get to escape the nuthouse long-term.”
“Whoa. Hold on. Go back. I thought you said there were seven of you. Five plus one is six. Suddenly there’s only six? Did I just catch you in a lie?”
“Yep. Seven. That’s right.”
“You don’t have six brothers and sisters. What are their names, then? Prove it.”
“One of us doesn’t live at home, Sherlock. You really that slow?” Oops. My brain is mush today. “Steven lives with his girlfriend Deandra in Scarborough, Darren and David—not Dave—share a bedroom.”
He’s counting off each name on his fingers, all wild-eyed, like I’m going to be in trouble when he’s finished. I try not to giggle. Claire and Meagan have caught up to us and listen in, all smiles.
“Maya and Angel share a room. Last, but not least, Manny—not Manfred—and Tavish share a room. Sometimes, the last one on the list is affectionately referred to as Tav. And Pita, the cat, and Fred and Trixie, the two dogs, sleep wherever they want to. And, of course, there’s Mom.”
“Wait a minute; wait a minute,” Claire says. She waves her hand to get his attention.
The four of us are all together now, and I can see that up ahead Bastien, Gil, Diego, Greg, and Troy are all walking in a pack. I’m glad Diego is surrounded by so many people today.
“What?” Manny asks her. “What’s your freak, girl?”
“You have a brother named Tav and a cat named Pita? I’m not even going to ask about Fred.”
We’re all laughing, except for Manny, who looks at us suspiciously.
“Fred is the name Angel gave her. And, yes, Fred’s a girl. A Chihuahua. Nobody questions Angel. It’s just one of those things. Pita, that’s Tav’s fault. My boy just loves his pita bread. So much that he christened the latest orphan after it. And he’s the baby of the family, so that was that.
“I just figure if the cat’s stupid enough to come when he’s called Pita, it serves him right.”
Up ahead, the guys head off the road into a gully or something. They’re following the arrows. We’ve started to walk beside a bunch of trees and the farther along we go, the thicker they get until it’s almost all forest beside the road. The opening they entered comes up for us too.
“Okay,” Meagan says. She’s getting right into it. “What about Tavish?”
“Why am I getting grilled? What’s this, Twenty Questions with Manny Johnston? Enough, now.” He’s so totally kidding. I can see he’s loving the attention.
“Come on,” Claire says. “We know you wanna.”
“I doubt it, ladies. Wanna get up there with the guys before I lose my mind back here with you all asking me silly questions about my family, more like.”
But Manny can’t fool me. He’s walking with swagger now. Like he owns the world. As we enter the forest, Claire points out a tree filled with ribbons. Manny runs over and
pulls off a bright yellow one.
“What are you doing?” Claire asks, like he just stole the Mona Lisa from the Louvre.
“They say things. They have little sayings on them. We’re supposed to take them. Why else are they here?”
He returns to the group, clears his throat, and makes a big production of reading the writing on it. “One step, Camino. Two steps, your life. What the what does that even mean?”
“Actually, I love it. Can I have it?”
“Sure, Claire. Whatever.” Manny streams the long yellow ribbon out behind him as he turns his back to us and keeps walking. Claire snaps it out of his outstretched hand and ties it into her hair. The yellow almost disappears among the other colors.
“Thanks, bud,” she says. And when she offers him a smile, it looks like the first genuine one she’s given this whole week. Too bad Manny doesn’t see it. But Meagan does, and it makes her smile.
“It sounds like Bastien is holding court up there,” I say. His voice can be heard booming above the others. And they’ve slowed down, shortening the gap between us. They’re probably too wrapped up in what he’s saying to walk any faster. His voice carries across the quiet morning.
I pick up the pace, and the others in my group follow suit. We narrow the gap between ourselves and Bastien’s group.
“Tavish was named after a great-great-uncle,” Manny says out of the blue.
“Oh?” Meagan says. “Well, that sounds interesting.”
“Yeah, well, I wanted you all to know it was a family name. He came from the South a zillion years ago or something. Someone in my mom’s family always gets the name.”
“Huh,” Claire says. “It’s a cool name. Tav. Tav sounds like he’d be a cool guy.”
“Are you kidding me.” Manny laughs. We’re just behind the guys now, and I can just barely hear their conversation. Bastien is telling them about a place coming up called Las Herrias. “My Tavs boy is about the coolest thing since Popsicles. For a seven-year-old, he’s got this brain. Wow. He’s everything, girl.”