by Taylor Hobbs
“In a way…” Remy began. “You have to promise not to ask any questions until I’m done explaining. I don’t expect you to believe it, but you also have to promise not to have me committed or tell anyone else. If it helps, just pretend I’m just an eccentric artist telling you a crazy story.” She took a deep breath. “I’ve been seeing things lately. Things that aren’t, well, in this time.”
“Ella está bien,” the EMT interrupted her. He turned to Maggie to explain the rest, knowing that Remy didn’t speak Spanish. When he was done, he helped Remy sit up and assisted her off the ambulance bed. He escorted them both to solid ground and looked at Maggie with a stern expression.
“I’m supposed to tell you to follow up with your regular doctor this week,” Maggie said.
“That won’t fix what’s wrong with me.”
“You have to tell him that you will, otherwise he will take you to the hospital right now instead.”
Remy sighed. “Fine. Okay.”
He seemed to understand at least that much English and patted her shoulder. The team boarded the ambulance and headed down the driveway. The village’s second visit from an ambulance in two months. They are going to think this place is cursed with bad luck. Once the sound of tires crunching on dirt disappeared, it was oddly calm. Don’t think about Bieito. Don’t think about Bieito. Focus on finishing the story. Remy felt that once she told her story, it would release all of her emotions in a flood, and she could say goodbye to Bieito properly. She couldn’t do him justice here, in front of Maggie.
“So you think that your village is haunted.” Maggie said it so matter-of-fact that it surprised Remy. The older woman caught on quickly.
“Sort of. More like…it has a mind of its own. And has been showing me stuff.” Is that less weird than telling her it took me back in time?
“Why would the village show you things? What sort of things?”
“People that used to live here. Stuff that happened.”
“Are you alone when these ‘visions’ take place?”
“Yes, usually when I’m by myself in the village.”
“Don’t get your knickers in a twist if I ask this, but have you been drinking or doing drugs?”
“No!” Then Remy remembered the copious amounts of that delicious wine she had been drinking during the first few instances. “Not always. Sometimes,” Remy confessed.
“But this Bieito you’ve been frantic over…Is he real?”
Remy bit her lip, not knowing how to explain further. “Not anymore.”
****
The pain in Bieito’s eyes. The light fading out of his gaze. The strength of Remy’s grip around his body. The roar of the storm.
Remy tossed and turned as she tried to sleep in her tent. She couldn’t bring herself to go near the cottage yet. It had been three days since she’d been back, and her thoughts refused to break out of a destructive cycle. I should have stayed with him. I shouldn’t have risked the wish. At least then I wouldn’t have left him to die alone.
Beside her, Maggie stirred in her sleeping bag. Even though Remy had begged her older friend to check into a hotel downtown, Maggie refused to leave Remy on her own. The Englishwoman had tried to talk Remy into going to the doctor, but every time Remy tried to leave the property, panic set in.
“Anxiety attacks,” Sebastian had diagnosed. His exuberance at Remy’s return could not be contained, and he took it upon himself to spread the good news throughout Ortigueira. He came to visit Maggie and Remy each day to check in but returned home in the evening. Remy was thankful for the supplies and food he brought with him, because Remy had yet to leave the village, even to grocery shop.
Whether it was trauma or guilt keeping her there, Remy didn’t know. All she could feel was some unknown force that would not allow her to leave. She was tied to the village, an invisible tether keeping her within its borders.
The next morning, after another sleepless night, Remy decided to reach out to Jack and Anita, just to let them know she was okay. Maggie left to run an errand, and let Remy borrow her phone. If Jack doesn’t answer, then I’ll leave a message. Anything to keep her mind off Bieito and her loss.
It felt like forever since Jack’s accident. An entire lifetime had passed since he showed up, unwanted, in her village. She assumed he had gone home. How long did it take for someone to recover enough from head trauma and some broken bones in order to fly to New York?
So much had happened between the last time she saw him and now. Most importantly, she had gone from being staunchly secure in her divorce to madly in love with another man. Maybe it’s me. Bad things happen to men who love me.
She dialed Jack’s number and couldn’t believe who answered it.
Anita. Voice thick with sleep, she mumbled, “Who is it?”
Remy cleared her throat but couldn’t find the words.
“Hello? Hello?” A pause and the rustle of fabric. “Babe, I think there’s someone on the phone for you.”
The thought should have sent her reeling. Her best friend and her ex-husband—it was the ultimate betrayal. Instead of feeling angry, though, Remy was just…numb. Picturing them together was like staring at two strangers. They existed in Remy’s memories, but she already knew they would not have a presence in her future.
If they wanted to be together, then by all means they should be. Remy had been through enough the past few months so that no jealousy or envy remained in her heart. Maybe they will be a better couple than Jack and I ever were. There was no way to predict which way this scenario would go, and it wasn’t important enough for Remy to need to know how it turned out. Hell, they could even get married and start a family together and live the life Remy always assumed she would. Even that wouldn’t make her wish she was in Anita’s shoes. Standing where she was now, Remy could see how that path would have been completely wrong for her.
Instead, she suddenly felt grateful for all the decisions that had led her to this moment in time. She wouldn’t have traded her time with Bieito for anything. Loving him was a singular experience that had brought her back from the brink. Remy had been marked, or chosen, or driven by some unseen force to live a compelling life. She should have run away from New York long ago and listened to that inner voice that told her she wasn’t home yet. Remy was nowhere near perfect. This entire journey she had questioned her sanity and her decisions and felt like a failure more often than not.
But this journey had brought her back to life. It had opened her mind to paint again. It had shown her that there was more to her than tragedy and curses, and that she could make a difference.
Jack’s voice spoke in her ear. “Who is this?” he said. “Do you know what time it is?”
Remy didn’t trust herself to answer. Anita and Jack wouldn’t understand why she was so okay with everything. It was hard for Remy to understand it herself, just that she was perfectly fine with it. They’d think she was lying, masking her pain. It would require interacting with them more than she wanted to. Ideally, this was how she would leave things with them. Closing the door and closing the chapter in her life, for good. She hung up the phone with a tiny smile.
Remy had been so focused on losing Bieito that she hadn’t thought much about Lino’s fate. When she had woken up on the ground in the village, it had felt like the past spit her back out for the last time. After breaking God knew how many laws of the universe, to think that the village would just let her pass back and forth with Bieito in tow was too far-fetched. It had been getting harder and harder to move between time periods, and after being stuck in Bieito’s time with no real way back for weeks, Remy was too scared to try it again now. Nothing was within her control anymore. She couldn’t risk it.
Not knowing Lino’s fate was agony, though. If she knew for sure he had survived, it might have eased her grief for Bieito. No, Lino has to have survived. Otherwise, why bother sending me back? Remy’s entire existence had been nudging her to that moment in time in order to change it. Would she ever understand
the long-term significance of everything though? Why bother changing such a small thing if it didn’t have far-reaching consequences, further reaching than even she could imagine?
I wonder what María said to Lino when she saw him. Remy smiled at the thought of their reunion. She could just picture María landing quite the slap on Lino’s face before launching herself into his arms. But slowly this joyous reunion began to unravel in Remy’s imagination, for then she pictured Afonso emerging from the cottage, expecting to find both his sons. How Lino would look, dejected and thinking of himself as a coward for abandoning the brother who saved him. Regret at putting his family in this position in the first place. The confusion on his wife and his father’s face when they didn’t see Bieito or Remy beside him.
They would forever wonder what happened to Bieito and Remy. Remy’s heart ached for them, and for the loss of a family that could have become her own if she stayed. She could only hope that they would somehow find peace and acceptance in the coming years. They had saved Lino so that he and María could start a life together, and Remy fervently hoped that they would embrace the second chance that Bieito had given them instead of squandering it away due to guilt.
Bieito would think it was all worth it, Remy told herself firmly. He had done his part to keep his little brother safe. There was no cost too high for that. She doubted he would choose to have done it any differently, as long as Lino made it out alive in the end.
There was something frighteningly isolating about the only one to possess knowledge of an event, to be the sole holder of the truth. The amount of time that Remy had spent doubting her own sanity the past few months only made her more afraid to trust her memory. The coup was such a small blip in history. But if she had inadvertently created a new future all together…But everything else is the same, Remy told herself. That I know of so far. Time to focus on the future instead of the past.
The scent of sun-ripened fruit hit her nose, and the phantom sound of rattling wagon wheels rolled in the distance, combined with the joyous nonsensical chatter of happy neighbors and the memory of sweet wine on her tongue…
It was all still there. Somewhere on a different plane, in another time, just beyond her grasp. It wouldn’t be the village that Bieito left behind, but Remy believed she could build something just as wonderful. The essence of the place still yearned to be occupied and to serve a purpose. His was the glorious history of the village, while Remy represented a hopeful future.
Chapter Fifteen
Blood, sweat, and tears during the next three years transformed the property into the school of Remy’s dreams. The main house was turned into a dormitory for the art students. The other houses were modified into classrooms and studio rooms. The bakery was now a sculptor’s haven, the large stone oven re-purposed as a massive kiln. The mill was kept basically the same, preserved for history’s sake, but Remy had dreams of eventually turning it into a gallery to display her students’ work.
It took Remy nine months to move into the cottage. She worked for months in secret, not letting Maggie or Sebastian peek at her progress. In the beginning she could only see it as Bieito’s house, but with loving care she designed her dream home, determined to do it justice and honor his memory.
When she finally escorted Maggie and Sebastian through the front door, the surprise left them breathless. A seamless mix of modern and vintage, with her own artwork adorning every wall. She had even added on a little alcove room, which was completed just in time for her own little surprise.
****
Now, pacing through the completely restored village, Remy bubbled over with anticipation while Maggie tried to calm her down. Sebastian was about to drop off the first of their students arriving for the summer art program. Remy had to pinch herself that this day was finally here, and that she had made her dream come true. The twelve students were from all over the world, handpicked by Remy for a life-changing experience. The students she had chosen to work with were scholarship students, mostly from poor or dysfunctional families. Most had never been away from their hometown and were about to embark on eight weeks in Spain with the famous artist Remington Day, and she was determined to live up to their expectations.
This was all financed by Remy’s reemergence into the art world, more successful than ever. Now labeled a recluse artist, Remy was astounded to discover that the mystery of her life made her paintings even more in demand. Her style had changed, too, and critics praised her mix of modern style with historical aspects. Oversized canvases were her new trademark.
A van pulled into sight and stopped at the top of the drive. Sebastian hopped out of the driver’s seat and opened the sliding passenger door with an exaggerated sweep. “Bienvenidos! Welcome!” he shouted, looking just as proud to introduce the students to the village as if he owned it. The long drive from the Madrid airport had done nothing to dampen his enthusiasm.
“Thank you, Sebastian,” Remy said, striding forward in what she hoped was a confident way. I hope I look like I know what I’m doing. Maggie hung back while Remy approached the students.
“I hope you all had a good trip,” she said. The eleven teenagers nodded, looking more than a little dazed and jetlagged. “I also hope you’re ready to get some great work done this summer at this retreat! I’m Remy, you already know Sebastian, one of our helpers, and you’ll meet Maggie later. Grab your bags, and we will show you around.”
While the students busied themselves with their luggage, Remy pulled Sebastian aside. “Who are we missing?” she asked.
“The local boy. His mother is going to deliver him any moment.”
“Oh, that’s right.” Remy was relieved not to have lost a student on their opening day. She had been astounded to discover the boy’s talented portfolio in her stack of applications, and even more stunned to find out that his family lived in Ortigueira already.
“Here they come now,” Sebastian said.
An old car rumbled its way down the long drive and parked behind the van. A woman with deep red hair got out from behind the wheel and grabbed a suitcase from the trunk. Remy couldn’t see who still sat in the passenger’s seat, but she assumed it was the woman’s son. When a few minutes had passed and the boy hadn’t gotten out of the car, Remy went to see what was wrong.
“He’s just nervous,” the woman explained in remarkable English, and gave Remy a smile that was so familiar it made her heart stop. When it started pounding again, Remy gathered up the courage to look in the car.
A boy with dark, curly hair stared down at his hands. His mother rapped on the window. “Afonso,” she said. “Tu profesora está aquí.” Your teacher is here.
His chest rose and fell with a sigh, and he gathered himself enough to open the door. “Hola,” he mumbled, looking at the ground. Afonso was only thirteen, the youngest student in Remy’s program by a good two years.
Remy fought hard not to let tears fill her eyes. She cleared her throat and said, “Welcome, Afonso. We are so happy you’re here. I loved your portfolio, especially your ocean paintings. There’s another boy here who makes sculptures inspired by water. I think you two will have a lot to talk about.”
At the mention of his artwork, Afonso lifted his head, allowing Remy to confirm what she already knew in his distinct features. “Say goodbye to your mother,” Remy instructed. “I’ll bring you to the other kids.”
Afonso threw his arms around his mother, dodged her kiss, and ran over to where Sebastian was giving an orientation. His mother waved at his back and turned to Remy. “Take care of my baby,” she said.
“Like he was my own family,” Remy promised. “He’ll do great.” Remy heard her name being called from the cottage. “Excuse me,” she said, and hurried across the village to where Maggie summoned her.
“Look who woke up early from her nap!” Maggie said, her arms full of a squirming toddler.
“Catarina! You didn’t want to miss the excitement today?”
“Mama!” The little girl squealed and reached for R
emy. Curly bedhead hair flopped into dark brown eyes that were quick to take in her surroundings. “Beach? Beach?”
Her little water baby, so like the father she would never know. Remy and her daughter took nightly walks to the ocean to watch the sunset together. The path to the beach that had existed in Bieito’s time had long since eroded, and they were forced to stay up on the cliff above the ocean. The sea air did wonders for their souls, but Remy could see that Catarina ached to be down on the water.
“We’ll work out a way to carve a path down to the beach. Maybe we can try sailing,” Remy had told her, grasping a tiny hand in hers. But that would involve leaving the boundaries of the village, something that neither of them seemed to be able to do. Their world scope had shrunk to just these few buildings and the grounds. The cliffs were the farthest they could reach, and even then, Remy and Catarina weren’t able to stay very long before feeling compelled to return.
The ache in Remy’s heart was physically painful if she thought about leaving the village. Remy wasn’t sure if it was due to her own anxiety, but she suspected another force was at work, and suspected she had lost a piece of her free will. Coming back that last time had changed her. Wishing for them both to come back to the village tied them so securely to this place she wondered if she and Catarina could ever leave.
The village would never again be abandoned to time, and it had gone through great lengths to ensure this. It had pulled threads from the present and the past, breaking rules of the universe to bring two people together to create a miracle. Each step of the way had been a delicate balance of action and reaction, until Remy was desperate enough to make her wish. Every wish has a cost. But each night when the sun set, when mother and daughter turned around and walked side by side back to their cottage, Remy felt that the price for her happiness was worth it. A tiny part of her that she wasn’t willing to admit existed asked, Will Catarina think the price was worth it, too? Remy wanted to avoid this question for as long as possible.