Sonder Village

by Taylor Hobbs

  “But you still take to the water,” Remy noticed. “Do you feel close to Catarina here?”

  “This is where I feel my mother’s spirit. I do not run from it; I embrace it. I think it was fitting that the waters took her body. It was where she was happiest. I do not mourn that she did not have a proper Christian burial, though I know that it deeply offends some. She is exactly where she belongs, and watches over me when I am out there.”

  “I completely believe that,” Remy agreed. “And I think she would be happy to know that her son still finds such joy in the same thing that she did.”

  Bieito busied himself with the boat once more, but Remy could tell that her statement touched him. She was grateful that Bieito had opened up, and the dynamic between him and his brother and father suddenly made all the more sense. The way Bieito took care of the two of them, why Lino had fallen in love and gotten married, but Bieito kept himself on the outside. He chose never to get too close, to watch over his family instead.

  Wanting him to feel comfortable opening up to her some more, Remy decided to give Bieito something of herself in return. “I have not lost a parent, but I never fit into my family, and I don’t think they mourned me when I left, even though I might as well have died in their eyes. I almost lost my brother when I was young, and things were never the same after that. Moving away and actually doing something with my life was considered the ultimate betrayal. I can’t say I’ve been through what you’ve been through, but I have lost something precious to me. Precious somethings. Irreplaceable. And each loss took a part of my heart I can never get back. I admire you, Bieito, for how you’ve held everything together. You are a remarkable man.”

  The sailboat was now in the water, and Bieito held the line so tight his knuckles were white. Remy saw him swallow hard, his throat bobbing with emotion. “No one else has ever been on this boat besides me and Lino,” he told her.

  “I’m honored to be your first guest.”

  He held out his hand to her, and Remy grabbed it like a lifeline. They stood knee deep in the freezing surf, the waves breaking around them but neither one feeling the cold. “I think the ocean brought you to me,” Bieito whispered, so low that Remy could barely catch his words.

  “The ocean. Or the village. Or the Camino.” Bieito heaved Remy aboard, her wet skirts a heavy tangle around her legs. “Or maybe, a combination of all three. Because no matter what, we were meant to find each other.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Bieito transformed at the helm. Holding onto the tiller, he expertly steered them through the breaking waves, showing no hint of fear. He was right—it was a dance. Remy tried to stay out of the way as he raised and trimmed the sail. Soon they were flying. The little sailboat skipped over the choppy waves, riding on moonlight.

  Their serious conversation from earlier was placed on an indefinite hold. Remy couldn’t speak right now even if she wanted to. The entire experience stole her breath away, and all she could do was hold on tight, smiling from ear to ear until her cheeks ached.

  Let’s sail forever. Remy longed to just keep moving forward, into the unknown. To never see land again, and to live in the waves and at the whim of the wind. It blew all the thoughts and worries straight out of her head.

  This was Bieito’s version of painting. The release of consciousness as he let his body live in the moment, just as Remy did with a brush. She looked back at him from her seat across the cockpit. The lines on his face were completely smoothed out in the silver light, and she could see the boy he used to be; a boy who got his love of the sea from his mother, and the respect of the sea when he learned how to ride it.

  Remy could picture him as a teenager. When all of the other kids were preoccupied with courting and flirting, Bieito would escape down to the beach, and out onto the water. She bet he disappeared from sunup to well after sundown, only to return with sunburned skin and untamed hair. Not even the responsibilities and drudgery of adulthood in the coming years could keep him away from what he loved. Fishing all day on a working boat wouldn’t be the same, and Bieito would still crave the solitude and freedom of his own small sailboat.

  This is the real reason that Bieito never married. Nobody else can understand this passion. The sea was his mistress, and he would return to it every time. No other woman could understand always coming in second place.

  It was the same problem with Jack. He could never reach Remy while she was lost in her own world, no matter how much he begged to be let in. Jack never got over the fact that there was a piece of Remy he could never touch. There was nothing in his life that drove him like painting drove Remy, and she believed that a part of him deeply resented her for it. Maybe even blamed her for it. It took walking away from her marriage to see that Remy needed a partner in life, not another person to complete her. Jack wanted to fill the role as her other half, but she was already a whole person. Painting was already her other half, her true soul mate.

  Watching Bieito now, Remy’s hand itched to hold a brush, to preserve the wild and distant look in his eyes forever. Bieito had never found his other half because he didn’t need one.

  The coastline was rapidly disappearing behind her. The only evidence of land was the white foam crashing onto the shore, and somewhere far up the cliffs, lay Remy’s village. Would they land back on shore in Bieito’s time, or Remy’s? Would she walk up onto the sand, only to find herself alone again?

  The wind shifted, bringing up a large wave that crashed over Remy and into the boat. The shock of the water only added to her adrenaline.

  “How far can we go?” she shouted.

  “All night, if you want.”

  “How far have you sailed by yourself?” Remy asked, scooting closer to him.

  “By accident or on purpose?”

  “You’ve gotten lost before?”

  “Many times. But you do not have to worry. Because of all those times, I can find my way back home wherever I am, no matter the weather.”

  How nice it must be to always be able to find your way back home. Technically, his home is my home. So if I’m with Bieito, I guess I can always find my way back home, too.

  “Right now, we are sailing upwind,” Bieito explained. “Feel how the wind pulls the sail forward? When we turn around, we will be sailing downwind. That’s when the ocean and the wind will push us back to shore.”

  “Oh, so upwind pulls you, like an airplane wing.”

  Bieito looked confused. “A what?”

  “Never mind.”

  “Is that a type of sail? Or a boat?”

  “It’s a complicated explanation. Tell me more about sailing.”

  “When I move the tiller, it turns the rudder underneath the boat. Would you like to try?”

  “Am I going to capsize us?”

  “I will be here the whole time,” Bieito promised.

  Remy tentatively gripped the wooden stick, surprised by the immediate feel of drag underneath it due to the current. “It’s fighting me!” She almost let go when it yanked her sideways. Bieito’s arms latched around her waist and he pulled her back down onto his lap. Placing his hand behind hers, they steered the boat together, and Remy got a feel for it.

  “I can see why this is addicting,” she said into his ear. She couldn’t help but give it a nuzzle with her cold nose and laughed when she felt him jump. “There’s no roads or anything to restrict you. You can just go wherever you feel like, day or night.”

  “That’s why my mother loved it. The one place in her life that there were no restrictions, no judging eyes. The rest of the village never truly understood her. They thought she was odd. You remind me of her.”

  Remy leaned away. “I remind you of your mother?”

  “Only in the way that you care not what others think. You live by your own schedule and whims. It is frustrating for me, especially when you disappear for days on end, but I am beginning to trust that you will always find your way back to me. That is all I could hope for.”

  Well, when he pu
ts it that way, it doesn’t sound so bad.

  Another wave burst above the boat, spraying Remy again. She shivered and felt Bieito’s arms tighten around her. “We have been out too long. You are cold. This was thoughtless of me to take you out in the dark. You should be sailing in the sunlight, comfortable.” He cranked the tiller to the right and the boat spun around, bobbing like a cork, insignificant in the sheer amount of water surrounding them.

  “Downwind, then?” Remy asked, and Bieito looked pleased that she had been paying attention.

  “Yes, downwind. We should be back to shore in much less time.”

  “I still can’t believe you can get us back to where we left. I can’t see anything!”

  “I can feel it calling to me. Stay warm, mi amor. Stay close. We will be there soon.”

  Remy didn’t need to be told twice, and was lulled into a trance by the waves, darkness, and Bieito’s unending warmth. Yawning against Bieito’s shoulder, she said, “Do you promise we can do this again soon?”

  “Anytime you like, mi amor. I would be overjoyed to share this with you.”

  “Do you think she’ll be jealous?”

  “Who will be jealous?”

  “The sea. Having to share you.”

  Bieito kissed her temple, and Remy closed her eyes. The next thing she knew, she felt a bump on the bottom of the boat and her eyes flew open. They were at the beach once again. Bieito gently disentangled himself from her and leaped off to pull the boat in.

  Remy, not wanting to be additional weight, jumped off as well, and grabbed onto the rope to help. Together, they hauled the boat out of the water and up onto the sand. In the boat’s usual spot, however, there was already somebody occupying it.

  “Father?” Bieito asked, incredulous.

  The figure, who had been laying down, popped his head up at his name. “Where have you been, son?” Afonso demanded. “I have been waiting here for hours for you to return.”

  “What happened? Is something wrong?”

  “We need to discuss Lino,” he said. Then, seeing that Remy stood next to Bieito, remembered his manners. “My dear, you should not let my daft son talk you into sailing at night!” He turned to Bieito. “And you! She will catch her death of cold out here. I thought you were trying to woo this woman?”

  “It was my idea,” Remy said, feeling a bit ridiculous that two middle-aged, consenting adults needed to justify their choice of date to a father waiting up for them.

  Bieito moved forward to help his father out of the sand and onto his feet. “We are not the only ones who will catch a sickness out here. Why on earth could you not have waited for me at home?” Bieito demanded.

  “Bah! You have been gone at all hours lately. I had no idea when you would return. I thought to check the beach, and when I saw the boat was missing, I knew you would at least be back here, though I did not know you would be bringing Remy along.” He paused and turned to her. “It is good to see you again. You had us all worried.”

  “What about Lino?” Bieito asked. “Is he in trouble?”

  His father hesitated, looking around the deserted beach cloaked in darkness. “I am not comfortable discussing it in the open.”

  “Father,” Bieito said, exasperated. “There is nobody else around. Remy will not breathe a word, either.”

  “You never know who is listening. They could be anywhere.”

  “We saw nobody else earlier, and you have been guarding the beach for quite some time. Unless you heard anyone, I doubt they are down here in the middle of the night.”

  His father shook his head. “You have your head in the clouds most days, Bieito. You do not realize just how bad it has become lately. I am afraid there has been much more than just talk and grumbling. Are you even listening at the port and in Ortigueira? People are angry, and they are ready to take action. Have you been looking out for your brother?”

  “Of course, Father. We spend every day together on the fishing boat, then he goes home to María. They are newlyweds, and together you and I decided to give them time alone—”

  “María came to me tonight. She was quite distraught, asking why we were making Lino work extra hours. I told her that we had been sending him home to her early, and she said she knew nothing about that. Bieito, your brother has been disappearing, leaving his new wife alone at home. Lying to her and us. I fear the worst.”

  Remy couldn’t keep her mouth shut anymore. “I can’t believe he’s having an affair!”

  “No, Señora Remy. My son would never break his vows. I fear it is much worse than that. Politics.”

  Bieito’s eyes were dark and stormy. “We do not know for sure what he is tangled up in, Father. We need to tread carefully. If he is involved somehow, these are dangerous people we need to get him away from.”

  “What do they want?” Remy asked.

  “Independence,” Bieito’s father whispered.

  “And they need Lino to help them get it?”

  “They need sympathizers,” Bieito explained. “People to spread their message. Give them supplies. Help with the movement in any way they can.”

  “A revolution?”

  “Yes.”

  Remy remembered being on Maggie’s couch, warm, sleepy, and full of takeout. Maggie had been reading to her from her Galician history book. A revolution. Martyrs of something. Martyrs mean failure. Uh oh.

  “Oh shit,” she said, and both Bieito and his father jumped at her curse. Then, Afonso nodded seriously. “Mierda is right,” he agreed.

  “You guys have got to talk him out of this. It is doomed to fail.” They assumed she spoke out of fear for Lino, when really Remy was telling them an actual historical fact.

  Bieito held up his hands, silencing the other two. “I will speak with him, and find out how involved he truly is, and what he has been doing for them.”

  “Bieito, he met with a group of them at his own wedding,” Remy pointed out. “I think it is safe to say he’s pretty involved. And going so far as to abandon María—though we all know how crazy he is about her—I think it is safe to say that Lino is in way over his head. Confronting him might not be the way to go; he will just get defensive. You might just have to follow him and see what he gets up to.”

  “Spy on my own brother?” Bieito managed to look both saddened and offended at her suggestion.

  “I don’t think you’ll get the whole story or big picture out of him any other way.”

  Bieito shook his head. “That is not what my brother would do. He trusts me. I need to trust him as well, to be honest with me. I expect he will want to confess. My brother has never been one for keeping secrets. He is also against violence.”

  “Even if he is the smallest bit involved with them, Bieito, isn’t that still treason? You have to save him from himself!”

  Bieito’s voice rose. “You accuse my brother of being a traitor! Of already assuming he has committed the worst!”

  “Well, no, I—” Remy sputtered, caught off guard at the vehemence of his outburst.

  “My brother is an idealist, yes. He was probably tricked or pulled into this, but you cannot be certain he has committed a crime!”

  He is also a grown-ass man, who is married to boot. I’m willing to bet he knows exactly what he’s doing. Poor María…

  “Bieito, maybe your father is right. We shouldn’t be discussing this out in the open. Let’s all go back to the cottage and see if we can’t come up with a plan.”

  Bieito took a deep breath and looked over at his father, who had been watching the exchange between him and Remy without a word. His gaze must have spoken volumes to his son, though, because the next words out of Bieito’s mouth stunned Remy. “I think my father and I need to handle this alone, as a family matter. I will make sure you get home safely, though.”

  “Bieito, seriously. I can help. I know more about this than you think, and if we are going to get Lino out of this alive—” Remy’s vision started to tunnel, cutting off her plea. Not now, not now, she begged, t
rying to hold onto consciousness. I need to stay here. I need to help them.

  ****

  Apparently her plea to the universe, the village, the Camino, or whatever else was yanking Remy around fell on deaf ears. “God damn it,” she moaned, finding herself on the hard ground behind the main house once again. She sat up with a sigh, head pounding. Not only had she been yanked out before she could tell Bieito and his father what she knew, but it had been in the middle of her and Bieito’s first fight. Double crap.

  The date had been going so well, too. Seeing and experiencing that part of him…Remy was more sure now than ever that he was her match, and that she could truly build a life with him. Or a half-life, maybe, split between his time and hers. She would explain it one day and have the best of both worlds. That is, if she could ever figure out the rules of the village and learn to control this jumping back and forth. Not only was it frustrating, but it was starting to get dangerous.

  Remy’s heart ached for Lino, as well as for Bieito and Afonso. She couldn’t let anything bad happen to them. Lino was headed down a path that was guaranteed to fail, if he really was as deeply involved with the separatist forces as she suspected.

  “Take me back,” she begged. Only silence answered her plea, her village devoid of any other signs of life. Why was it doing that to her? Giving her what she wanted, and then taking away? “Did I do something wrong?” she yelled. “I need an answer!”

  The cool night that surrounded her while she was with Bieito moments before was gone. The sea breeze that had wrapped around her like an ethereal cloak had been stripped away, leaving her raw and exposed. Now, Remy stood in the midday sun. Everything was too harsh, too bright, too real. The broken-down buildings in this hard light seemed more like a nightmare she needed to wake up from, rather than a familiar home. It was just too painful to be here, and she felt more alone than ever before.

  She had no idea if it was mere moments after her time hop, or if weeks had gone by. The good news was that her village was still standing, and her painting was still up. Remy hoped it meant that people weren’t worried about her too much. Either that, or they had given up completely that she would ever return.