Before I could respond that there was no way I could stop a grown man, Raúl was running down the pier.
Guillermo stared at me with glassy eyes. “You understand, don’t you?” he asked.
I nodded, glancing around, hoping that someone else would come by so I could leave.
“Look at them.” He pointed back to some of the fishermen. “Don’t even have shoes. I want more.… I deserve more.”
I said nothing and kept looking around.
“Right?” Guillermo asked.
“Yes. Of course,” I answered, facing him again.
He leaned back against the piling, a look of vindication washing over him. “That’s right.” He stumbled one step toward me and lowered his voice. “Waaant to hear a sssecret?” he asked.
I shook my head as he leaned back against the piling.
“Suuure you do.”
“No, not really.” I didn’t want to think about what a man like this would consider confidential.
“It’s the war that makes usss do these things,” he mumbled, scratching his unshaven cheek. “Besssidesss, those ships would’ve been sssstopped one way or another. Who cares iffff one more makes it to those ffffancy people in Bilbao? It wasss my turn to make sssome money from thisss war business. Plusss, they were being all sssneaky about it … coming in from Fraaance.”
I straightened up. This wasn’t just drunk-man talk. “Wait, what? Señor, what do you mean … exactly?”
“¿Señor?” He smirked and stood upright. “You think I’m the type to be called señor?” He stared at me, then inched closer so that I could now smell the overpowering stench of alcohol, fish, and who knows what else. His face got very serious, and he whispered, “You just be careful tomorrow, little one. There’ll be potatoes flying through the air.”
The idea of flying potatoes must have struck him as quite funny because he started to laugh right in my face. My eyes watered with the vile smell and I almost pinched my nose, but I kept staring at him … trying to understand what he was saying.
He stopped laughing and gave me a serious look. “Potatoes flying over the ssseven sssseas.” He clapped his hands together. “Boom!”
“An explosion?” I asked, hoping to make sense of his words.
Guillermo held up his finger. “Just one. One really big one. The price to pay for a better life.” He burped as he said those last words. “Why should I care about those money-grubbing Brits?”
My jaw dropped and I inched back. “You—you’re going to set off a bomb?” I stammered.
“Me?” He pointed at himself as if I might be speaking to someone else. “No, no. I wouldn’t do sssomething like that.” He started to slur his words again.
He had my undivided attention. “But you just said—”
“All I did was pass on some information that I happened to come across. Can’t help what other people do with the secrets that I overhear, right?” He smiled, showing off a couple of gaps between his yellowing teeth.
Time seemed to stall as I took in everything the drunk man had said. I studied his face to see if this was some sort of prank.
“Flying potatoes over the ssseven ssseas, flying potatoes over the ssseven ssseas,” Guillermo sang, oblivious to everything else around him.
“Sorry I took so long.” Raúl interrupted my thoughts and grabbed Guillermo’s arm, putting it around his shoulder. He looked back at me as he propped up his friend. “You’re a good kid. Thanks for watching him.”
Guillermo’s eyes had a glazed look, and he smiled at his friend. “You ffforgive me, right, Raúl?” he slurred.
“Of course, of course.” The two of them stumbled as Raúl tried to walk with the off-balance Guillermo.
Guillermo turned back to look at me and put a finger to his mouth. “Remember, shhh.”
SEVENTEEN
The screeching of the train’s wheels announced our arrival back at Guernica’s station. The short trip from Bermeo hadn’t given me much time to decide what I should do, but I knew I had to do something. Even if the drunkard was talking nonsense, I couldn’t take the chance. People might die.
I had to find Mathias.
Pushing my way around a few people, I walked toward the train door, waiting for it to open.
“Really, neska? Where is your head today?” Mamá pointed to the basket I’d left behind.
By the time I went back and got it, most of the people were off the train and Mamá was waiting for me outside on the platform.
“Took long enough,” she muttered, avoiding the crowd by going around the main building.
I waddled after her. “I’m sorry.” I readjusted my grip on the rim of the basket. “It’s heavier than usual.”
Mamá balanced her oversized basket perfectly on her head, the brass scale hanging off a loop on her belt. “Don’t complain, neska. More sardines mean more sales. More sales mean more food. What you need to do is carry it like I do.”
I nodded, but kept mine pressed against my stomach. I feared that carrying it the way Mamá and the other sardineras did would seal my fate as one of them forever.
“Now give me the weights for the scale.” She held out her hand, and I gave her the small brass pieces. “If you hurry up and drop off the basket at home, you’ll still be able to make it to your precious school before the afternoon session starts.”
“Sí, señora,” I said, moving as quickly as possible but still struggling with the basket.
Mamá pursed her lips. “Carry it that way and it’ll take you twice as long, neska.” She was already halfway down the street, carrying her own, heavier load with ease. “You decide what’s important.”
I sighed and lifted the basket on top of my head, balancing it with both hands. I was definitely able to walk a little faster. With every step, I repeated, “I am not Sardine Girl. I am not Sardine Girl.”
The day felt warm for mid-April, and the combination of the quick pace, heavy basket, and fear that someone might spot me made me feel even hotter. Sweat trickled down my back. I had to make it just two more blocks without being noticed, but that was getting harder as more people filled the streets. It was a little past noon, and I’d already decided to skip all my afternoon classes in order to find Mathias. We had to tell his father what I’d heard.
Then, when I was just a few steps away from my building, I heard those dreaded words.
“Hey, Sardine Girl! Over here!”
I spun around, causing the basket to wobble dangerously, and spotted the face I least wanted to see … Sabino.
EIGHTEEN
He sprinted toward me. “My oh my.” He smirked. “Guess your school days are over, huh, Sardine Girl?”
“Get out of here, Sabino,” I said through clenched teeth.
“Ooh, it talks. All these years I thought you were mute.”
“You’re not worth the breath it takes to talk to you.” I balanced the basket with one hand and pulled out my house key.
From behind Sabino a woman in a pretty blue dress waved at me. “Gracias,” she called out as she got closer. “Thank you for waiting.”
She looked up at the basket still on my head and then at Sabino. “Sabi, didn’t you tell her how much I needed?”
He shuffled his feet. “Um, we hadn’t gotten to that yet.”
She shook her head and smiled at me. “My son—what am I supposed to do with him? Always sweet-talking the pretty girls.” She pinched his cheek and pointed up to the basket. “I’ll take six of your largest sardines, please.”
Sabino … sweet-talking me? I almost laughed out loud at how clueless this woman was.
“Is there a problem?” she asked.
Mamá would never let me pass up a chance to make a sale. That would be equivalent to sacrilege.
“No, no problem.” I pulled the basket off my head and placed it by my feet. “I just don’t have my scale because I was taking these home to be sold later. But I can estimate how much each one weighs and give you a price … if you like.”
&n
bsp; “No need. I always buy them at the market on Mondays, so I know how much six should cost.” She peered into the basket. “So, these are very fresh, right?”
“Yes, just caught this morning,” I answered, searching for the largest of the sardines and putting them on the ground next to me.
“Here you go. Will this do?” She showed me the coins in the palm of her hand.
It was exactly what I would’ve charged. Mamá would be happy about this sale. “Yes, that’s perfect,” I said, picking up two of the six fish and handing them to her.
“But aren’t you going to wrap them up?” she asked.
“Oh, I …” My unexpected sale was slipping away.
“Of course not.… You just said these were to be sold later.” She looked around. “No problem. Poochie, be a good son to your pregnant mother and untuck your shirt. You can make a little cradle with it and carry them for me until we get home.” She gave me a wink and patted her small belly. “Have to satisfy these cravings!”
“But I’ll stink like sardines all day!” Sabino complained, already untucking his shirt for me to place the fish on.
“Not at all,” I said in an exaggerated tone. “You’ll just smell like the sea.”
“That’s the right attitude,” his mother said as she ruffled his hair.
Sabino glared at me.
I smiled.
As they walked away, I yelled, “See you later, Poochie!”
The days of Sabino calling me Sardine Girl were over.
Within five minutes, I’d dropped off the basket of sardines and was back outside with only one thought: find Mathias.
I raced through the familiar streets of Guernica, my feet barely touching the cobblestones as I dodged people strolling home for lunch. Soon I found myself under the theater’s marquee, which listed La Fuga de Tarzan as the new movie that was playing. I took a deep breath and rang the bell by the side entrance. Even though the theater was closed at this hour, I hoped Mathias would be home helping his father or having lunch with his family.
I waited a few seconds before ringing the bell two more times. Someone had to be home.
The door creaked open just enough for me to see a woman’s face looking down at me.
“¿Sí? Can I help you?” she asked in an accented voice, still standing behind the partially closed door.
“Um, is Mathias home?”
“No, I’m sorry.” She took a step out into the open, and I could see that she was a tall, slender woman. She wore a simple flowered dress with buttons down the front, a black sweater, and an apron wrapped around her waist. “Are you … Ani?” she asked.
I nodded.
She smiled and took my hand in hers. She gave it a small squeeze and introduced herself. “I’m Mathias’s mother. It’s wonderful to finally meet you.”
“Nice to meet you too, ma’am.” I gave her a quick smile. “Do you know where he is?”
Mathias’s mother didn’t seem to pick up on my urgency. “He speaks very highly of you, and it’s nice to see him with a friend. Moving around so much … makes me worry, you know?”
Unconsciously, I had started to tap my fingers against my thigh. I glanced down and stopped myself. I didn’t want to be rude, but I was wasting valuable time. “Um, yes. He’s a good friend. Do you—”
“Would you like to come in and wait for him?” She fidgeted with the sleeves of her sweater. “I’d love some company. It’s so rare for me to go out these days.”
I shuffled my feet. “Maybe another day. I just need to find Mathias right away. It’s important. Can you tell me where he is?”
She stiffened up a little.
“Oh! Of course. He’s at the Garza farm.” She got closer to me and lowered her voice. “Is everything … okay?”
“Um …” I stared at her, not quite sure if she knew that her husband was a spy. “It’s nothing … really,” I said, playing it safe … just in case.
“Well, then, I hope you’ll visit another day.” She waved me off.
As I took a step back and started to turn, she said, “Remind Mathias not to stay out too late. I want to eat early since his father’s out of town.”
Her words stopped me in my tracks.
Mathias’s father was gone? I thought Mathias would go with me to talk to his dad. Who would we tell now?
NINETEEN
I had run at full force halfway up the mountain, but now I was slowing down. The cool air was coming in and out of my lungs in short little pants. I bent over to take a deep breath before starting another sprint to the Garza farm.
As I straightened up, a figure caught my eye. The silhouette of a boy walking with a makila toward one of the fields farther up the mountain. From the way he took each step, I knew it had to be Mathias.
“Mathias! Mathias!” I yelled, waving my hands over my head.
I saw him lift his makila in response. He then turned and walked away from me.
“No!” I yelled. “Come back!”
With a sudden burst of energy, I raced up the mountain path. I was almost there when I saw Mathias coming back to meet me. When we got closer, I could see the worried look plastered across his face. “What are you doing here? Don’t you have school?” he asked. “Is something wrong?”
I shook my head but had to pause for a moment to catch my breath. “Mamá … she had me go with her to Bermeo and …”
“Oh.” His shoulders relaxed. “I thought something had happened. I told Garza that I had to leave early.” He started walking down the mountain again. “Well, guess I’m done now.… Want to hang out by the tree?”
“No.” I pulled him by the elbow to make him stop, my heartbeat finally slowing down. “Something did happen.”
Mathias eyed me and then smiled. “You got some information, didn’t you?”
I nodded, but had to wait for the cascading thoughts in my head to settle down.
“So, tell me!” he begged, unable to wait any longer.
“I think something might happen.… I mean, he wasn’t very clear about things, but—”
“He who?”
I took a breath. “This drunk guy in Bermeo who said—”
“A drunk guy?” Mathias scrunched his eyebrows. “Doesn’t sound too reliable.”
“I know, but he said certain things … made me believe that …”
Mathias scratched his head. “What kind of things?”
“He talked about a ship coming from France that wouldn’t be making it to Bilbao because of an explosion.”
“Explosion?” Mathias cocked his head to the side. “Wait, you think he wants to bomb it?”
I could tell by Mathias’s reaction that he thought this might be important information. “Not him personally, but he may have given information about a ship to Franco’s men.”
“Franco’s men? Why do you think that?”
“Because he was mumbling stuff about a payoff even if it meant some Brits got hurt. He’d been stumbling around the pier yelling about getting what he deserved, and then he’d ask his friend to forgive him.”
“Forgive him?”
“Mm-hm. His friend pretty much ignored him, but when his friend left for a minute, he started talking to me.”
“Talking to you?”
I put my hands on my hips. “Could you stop repeating everything I say?”
“I’m not doing that.” He paused for a moment. “Did he say anything else? Think of his exact words.”
I felt as if the entire scene in Bermeo were being replayed in my head like a movie. “He muttered something about the Brits being money-hungry and that there’d be flying potatoes—”
“Flying pota—” Mathias clapped his hand over his mouth, realizing that he was about to repeat what I’d just said. “Sorry,” he mumbled. “And his friend didn’t say anything about all this?”
“No, his friend wasn’t there for any of it. I was stuck watching him … making sure he didn’t fall into the water and drown. That’s when he told me.”
&nb
sp; Mathias bit at the corner of his fingernail. “You don’t think he was just playing with you?”
I shrugged. “I think he was too drunk to lie, but I can’t be sure.”
Mathias’s lips twitched back and forth. “We should tell my father, but if he asks how we know about the ships, we’ll just say it’s because of what’s been in the newspaper. We don’t mention opening the envelope, all right?”
I nodded. “But we need to tell someone else; your dad isn’t home. Your mom said he’s gone until tomorrow.”
“Wait … you were going to tell him without me?”
“Por favor, don’t be stupid. I went there looking for you. And don’t worry, I didn’t tell your mom anything.” I stared at him, seeing the wheels turn in his brain. He was putting together the pieces just like I had. “Mathias, you think this could be real too, don’t you?”
Mathias didn’t say anything but let out a deep sigh. “I don’t know … maybe. But we do need to tell someone … just in case. Any suggestions?”
I’d been thinking of this ever since I’d left Mathias’s mother. Of all the men in the spy ring, there was only one I felt I knew. Only one I trusted.
“Okay, c’mon.” I pulled on his shirtsleeve. “We have to go to church.”
TWENTY
I banged on the rectory door. No one had answered when we’d politely knocked a few seconds earlier. I thought Padre Iñaki would be at the church, but finding the place empty, we’d run over to the rectory, hoping he was having a late lunch at home.
“No one’s here,” Mathias said, stating the obvious.
I banged on the door once more and turned to face him. “Fine, now what?”
Mathias tapped his finger against his makila. “Maybe … we stop the ambush ourselves.”
“You and me?” The idea was ludicrous.
“Why not?” A slight smile snuck across his face. “Think about what the guy told you. Did he say when or where it was going to happen?”
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