“Here, shake my hand.” Padre Iñaki stretched out his hand.
Mathias gave me a puzzled look, but did as he was told.
I saw the priest slip a piece of green paper into Mathias’s palm.
“It’s the name of someone you can contact,” he said. “In case you get into trouble.” He leaned closer to us. “Or if you find out some valuable information that we should know about. We don’t want to be caught by surprise again.” He held Mathias’s hand a second longer. “We have to be careful who we trust.”
Mathias gave him a slight nod, understanding the meaning behind his words.
“¡Bien! ¡Bien!” The priest looked over his shoulder at some of the people waiting for him. “You’ll stay strong for your family,” he said in a voice loud enough that others could hear.
Trust was something relative during a war.
“No! No!” Carmita yelled as she ran toward us. A tall man in a dark suit chased after her. “I want Ani and Mathias to come too,” she cried as she wrapped herself around my legs.
The man looked at us and tried to pry Carmita’s arms away from me.
“¿Lo puedo ayudar?” I asked, protectively putting my arms on Carmita’s back.
“Oh. Excuse me, I’m sorry.” He took a step back, and Carmita relaxed her grip ever so slightly. “My name is Fernando Goizuela. I’m Carmita’s uncle … Lupe’s brother.”
Mathias crouched down to talk to Carmita. “Is that true? ¿El es tu tío?”
Carmita nodded.
“I’m sorry about Lupe,” I said. “She was a very nice woman.”
“Yes, yes she was.” Señor Goizuela quickly made the sign of the cross over his chest. “God bless her soul.”
Carmita looked up at me. “Ani, I don’t want to leave you. Come with me.”
“Go with you? Where?”
“I’m taking Carmita back with me to Madrid,” Señor Goizuela explained, bending down on one knee to look at Carmita. “Your two cousins, María José and Enrique, will be there. Do you remember them from the time you visited us last year?”
Carmita shook her head. “I want Ani and Mathias!” she demanded.
I stooped down to join Mathias and Señor Goizuela at Carmita’s eye level. “Carmita, Mathias and I can’t go with you, but we’ll all still be friends.”
“You need to go with your uncle. It’s what your mother would want,” Mathias said.
Carmita perked up. “Will Mamá be there?” she asked, looking at each of us for the answer she wanted to hear.
Señor Goizuela stroked his niece’s hair. “No. Lupe, your mother, won’t be there, but we’ll think about her often … ¿está bien? I’ll even show you a few pictures of how she looked when she was little … just like you.”
Carmita seemed to like the idea and slowly unclenched her grip on my skirt.
“Adiós, Carmita,” I said as the little girl took hold of her uncle’s hand. “Be good.”
“You too,” she said, giving me a kiss on the cheek. She then gave Mathias a quick peck.
Carmita’s uncle gave Mathias and me a slight nod of appreciation, then he and Carmita walked away, hand in hand.
Mathias sighed. “Sometimes I wish I could be that young and not understand what’s really happening.”
“Me too,” I said. “But those days are gone.”
As I watched Carmita round the corner with her uncle, it seemed as if I could feel another tie to my past unravel. There wasn’t much keeping me in Guernica.
An unknown path lay ahead, yet I didn’t know how to take the first step.
FORTY-SIX
The rest of the day, Mathias and I kept busy helping with the cleanup efforts. We saw Señor Beltran briefly, but he quickly turned away from us, not even acknowledging that he knew us or asking how we were. Not that I could blame him. Everyone was wary about what might happen next. Rumors were already flying that the front lines were faltering and that Guernica might fall to the Franco forces within a few days. People were streaming out, in search of a new place of refuge, while those who remained tried to piece together the broken town.
But through it all, I kept thinking of what would come next. It was as if I’d already said goodbye to my old life. Perhaps that’s the reason I’d been so quiet at dinner and why, even now, I stayed quiet as Señora Garza talked about England.
She had insisted I wear something nice on my trip, so she’d given me her favorite flowery dress and was in the process of trying to pin it and make it at least eight sizes smaller. I dropped my arms a bit from their outstretched position.
“No, todavía. I haven’t finished taking in the other side,” she said.
I lifted my arms again as if I were being crucified. I wondered if it were somehow symbolic of the old me dying. If so, who was going to take the place of that invisible Sardine Girl? Who would I be now that everyone and everything I’d ever known had been taken away?
Mathias was so certain of what to do next. He was going to a place where he could do something. Fight Hitler, help the Jews, maybe even get information to the Basques.… He’d be important. I, on the other hand, would be off in England, where nothing really happened. It was why Papá wanted me to go there … to be safe. Did safe have to be insignificant?
At first light, I woke up knowing that we would be heading out to Bilbao soon. Señora Garza’s flowery dress lay draped over the end of my bed, and I quickly slipped it on. It fit perfectly, and she’d even made a small pouch out of the extra fabric. It gave me an idea.
It was barely dawn, but I decided to go back to the field for one last visit.
I crossed the empty pasture and touched the gnarly bark of the old oak tree. It had been here for so long. I wondered about all the stories it could tell. The events of my life were probably only the latest it had witnessed. I hoped to one day come back here and continue my story.
Impulsively, I gave the tree a kiss before racing back up to the Garza house.
Once there, I noticed that everyone except for the babies was waiting outside for me.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t think you’d be ready,” I said to Garza, who was already up on the wagon, holding the horse’s reins.
“No te preocupes. But we need to get going,” he said.
I walked over to Mirentxu, who, ever since Carmita left, had become almost as quiet as the silent boy.
“I’ll miss you, Mirentxu,” I said. “Pórtate bien.”
“Why does everyone have to leave?” she asked.
I shrugged, not knowing how to answer.
“Can I go with you?” she asked, her big eyes welling up with tears.
“No.” I shook my head and opened my arms for her to give me a hug. “Padre Iñaki is trying to find some of your family,” I whispered into her hair as she squeezed me. “You’ll get to stay with them soon.”
“What if nobody wants me?” she asked, so quietly that I could barely hear her.
It was the question I’d lived with all my life.
“You already have people who want you. The Garzas, Mathias … me.” I pushed her back so I could see her eyes. “Mirentxu, you’re a special girl. Don’t ever let anyone tell you different. You’re important.”
She gazed at me as if my words held a sort of magic.
I smiled. “Always remember that … okay?”
She stood motionless, just looking at my face.
“Promise me that you’ll remember.”
She slowly nodded, breaking her trance. “I’m special,” she muttered. Then, just as suddenly, she turned around and skipped toward the house, singing, “Ani thinks I’m important, Ani thinks I’m important.”
The little boy I’d named José had been standing against the wall watching the whole scene.
“You’re special too,” I said to him.
He shrugged and walked away.
It felt final. I had the sinking feeling that I’d never see him again or learn his real name.
“Ani!” Mathias called out. “¡Vámonos!�
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I looked up at the brilliant blue sky. I paused to soak it all in. The feel of the cool mountain breeze on my cheeks, the clucking sound of the chickens in the henhouse, the smell of the wet earth still covered with dew. I wanted to capture every little thing about this place.
Señora Garza walked up behind me. “It’s only temporary. You’ll be back soon,” she said.
It was the same refrain she’d been telling Julián since they’d decided yesterday to send him to England along with me.
I glanced back at the horse-drawn cart. Mathias sat next to Garza.… Julián was sitting in the back, and his wheelchair was tied to the left side of the wagon.
“¡Un besote!” Señora Garza said, giving me a big kiss on the cheek. “You’re sure you don’t want to take any of my other clothes to change into later? I should have fixed another one of my dresses. Maybe I can give you something else.” The old woman began to search her pockets.
“No, I’m fine. De veras.” I gave her a hug.
“Keep an eye on Julián,” she whispered. “He’s a handful, but he’s all we have.”
I pulled away and gave her a weak smile. “I’ll do my best,” I said before climbing into the back of the wagon with him.
As Garza cracked the whip and the wagon started rolling forward, I was almost certain that in the distance, even though there wasn’t a cloud in the sky, I heard the rumble of thunder.
FORTY-SEVEN
The port in Santurce, across the bay from Bilbao, was crowded and chaotic. It was from here that our ship would sail to England, and my body already ached with a longing to go back to Guernica.
Walking around our wagon there were people carrying suitcases, pushing and shoving each other to get by, merchant seamen yelling out instructions to their crews, and children crying as their parents hurried them along.
Garza stopped the wagon as close as he could to the ship we’d been instructed to board, the SS Habana. There was already a large group of children being herded together by a few nuns and priests. Garza came to the back of the wagon to unload Julián’s wheelchair. I could see tears forming in the old man’s crinkly eyes.
“Ani.” Mathias touched my hand.
“Not yet,” I pleaded, “please.” I didn’t want to say those dreaded words to Mathias.
He smiled and nodded. “I’ll walk you and Julián as far as I can. They’ll think I’m going too.”
It was a small reprieve from the inevitable, but it was something.
I jumped off the wagon just as Garza helped Julián into his chair. I thought about how much Julián had already gone through in his short life—his parents dying, losing his ability to walk, and now leaving his grandparents. It was enough to devastate anyone, but the only one who was crying was Garza. Julián’s face was completely blank.
“I love you, Julián. Pórtate bien.” Garza reached out to tousle Julián’s hair, but the little boy shrank away. This didn’t seem to faze Garza. “You’ll come home soon … when it’s safe. For now, think of it as an adventure.”
Julián looked up at me and without a trace of emotion asked, “Can we go now? I don’t want to be here anymore.”
I couldn’t believe this was the way he wanted to say goodbye. Obviously, Mathias didn’t like it either because he smacked the little boy on the side of the head.
“Mathias!” Garza and I yelled at the same time.
“He deserved it!” Mathias answered us, then focused his attention back on Julián. “You need to grow up, little man. This is not the same world it used to be. You should be grateful to have two grandparents who love you so much that they’re willing to do anything to make sure you’re safe.”
“Love me so much that they’re getting rid of me?” Julián challenged. I could tell that if he could’ve jumped out of his chair, he would have tackled Mathias.
“Exactly!” Mathias leaned forward on his makila. “Don’t you think it would be easier for them to keep you by their side? Not to have to worry about how to pay for your trip or how you’ll manage in England?
“You have no idea how much I wish I could’ve had a real goodbye with my parents”—he paused to catch his breath—“and here you are acting like un malcriado!”
No one spoke or moved.
“Well?” Mathias asked. “What do you have to say?”
Julián gazed at Mathias and then slowly turned back to Garza, who, with shoulders slumped, was standing silently by the wagon. “¿Abuelo?”
“Sí, Julián?” The old man walked over toward his grandson.
The little boy’s bottom lip began to tremble. “I don’t want to go,” he whispered.
Garza bent down and hugged him. “I know. I know.”
“Can’t I stay? Please?” Julián begged. “I’ll be good. I promise.”
“You’re always good. But it’s become too dangerous here.” Garza brushed away the little boy’s tears. “I promised your mother that I’d keep you safe. You’re all we have.”
“I love you,” Julián said, choking back the sobs. “You and Abuela. Tell her, okay?”
“She knows, but I’ll tell her.” Garza gave his grandson one more embrace and then pushed the wheelchair closer to me. “We love you … con todo nuestro corazón.”
Julián nodded and looked back as the old man walked to the front of the wagon.
From where I stood, I could see Garza pat Mathias on the back and mouth the word “Gracias.” The two stood close together whispering something, then shook hands.
Garza climbed up to the driver’s seat and, without looking back again, cracked the whip so the horse would begin the return trip to Guernica.
Mathias joined Julián and me, and the three of us maneuvered through the crowd gathering in front of the freighter. The sights and smells around us were mostly new to me, but I didn’t want to pay attention. All I wanted to remember of this day was the glorious morning on the mountain … not the stagnant air of too many people crowded together or the cries of people saying goodbye.
And then we were at the ramp. Mathias would not be allowed to go any farther. Already we had been waved through by one official, but the next one had a clipboard and I knew the time had come.
“You sure you won’t change your mind and come with us? We could find a way to get you on board,” I said, knowing the attempt would be futile.
“You know I can’t,” Mathias answered. He took a step in front of the wheelchair and stuck out his hand. “You’re a man now, Julián. Time to act like one, okay?”
Julián nodded and shook his hand. “I’ll make you proud, Mathias,” he said, then cracked a smile. “But just so you know, next time you hit me upside my head, I’m going to knock you out.”
Mathias laughed. “Ooh, tough talk. We’ll just have to see how strong you are when we meet again. How about next time I challenge you to some arm wrestling?”
“You’re on!” Julián said, wheeling himself back a bit. “I’m going to get these muscles strong!” He smiled, flexing his biceps.
A ship’s horn rocked the pier and reminded us that we had to hurry.
Mathias and I stared at each other.
“Are you two going to get sappy? I don’t want to see this.” Julián turned his wheelchair around to look out at the harbor.
Mathias and I couldn’t help smiling.
“You better be careful over there,” I said, and gave Mathias a light punch in the arm.
“Now look who’s doing the hitting!” Mathias rubbed his arm as if I had actually hurt him.
Julián glanced over his shoulder, but then quickly turned around in his chair again.
“Seriously,” I said.
Mathias nodded. “I will.”
We stood together, not knowing what else to say or do. A few people pushed us aside as they were going up the ramp, so we stepped out of their way and got closer to the edge of the pier.
Mathias pulled something from his pocket and put it in my hand. “Here. So you can buy some stamps.”
; I looked down at the money. “Where did you get this?” I asked.
“Before the bombing, Garza paid me for the work I did on the farm. He gave me a little extra before we left.”
“I can’t take this.” I thrust it back at him. “You need it more than I do. No one on the ship expects me to have any money.”
“I know. But I need you to write to me as soon as you have an address. We’re still partners, right?”
“I’m going to miss you” was all I could say. Then I hugged him.
“Me too,” he answered, giving me a small squeeze.
We separated and I looked up at him, trying to memorize his face. “You’re my best friend,” I said.
“Aren’t I your only friend?” he teased.
I crossed my arms and scowled at him.
He raised his hands in surrender. “Kidding. I know that’s not true … at least not anymore.”
I thought for a moment of everyone in the Garza house and how, young and old, they all felt like my friends. “Yeah, but you’re still the best one.”
“Yeah? Well, good.”
I could feel a lump forming in my throat, but crying was something I had been raised not to do.
“Go,” Mathias said very matter-of-factly.
“What?” It was such a change of mood that I thought he was joking.
Mathias gave me a slight push. “Before I start to rethink everything. Go. Adiós.”
I inched backward. As much as I wanted Mathias to be with me, I knew he was destined for something else. I wasn’t going to try to change his mind. “Bye, Mathias,” I said, slowly turning around.
Without saying another word, I grabbed the wheelchair’s handles and headed toward the ship. Every few seconds Julián glanced back at me, but wisely chose not to make any comments. As we reached the gangplank, I realized that this was it. My last time on Basque soil … at least for a while. I shoved the money into the skirt pocket of Señora Garza’s dress and felt the small pouch. How could I have forgotten?
I spun around and searched the crowd behind us.
“Mathias!” I yelled. “Mathias!”
“What’s wrong?” asked Julián.
“I forgot to give him something.” I scanned the crowd.
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