The Blue Line

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The Blue Line Page 24

by Ingrid Betancourt


  “He also tortured my wife . . . who was expecting our child.”

  All at once, Mia was gripped by spasms that shook her body violently until they reached her throat. She opened her door and vomited.

  38.

  OF LOVE AND HATE

  Boreal Summer

  2006

  It would soon be dawn. They walked barefoot down the stairs and out of the house across the damp grass to the beach. They stayed close to each other, the cool sand giving way under their feet, their bodies still seeking each other, unsated. Around them the dark expanse was filled with the reddish glow of a dying campfire. The gentle lapping of the waves reminded them of the presence of the sea. But they sat down with their backs to the water, fascinated by the embers of the fire that they were set on rekindling.

  “I’ve been having nightmares for days.”

  “I’ve been having them for years.”

  Theo turned the logs over. Timid flames began to lick at them.

  “I don’t think I will ever be able to free myself from all this.”

  “Knowing comes with a price, my love. Ignorance is bliss,” Theo said, kissing her neck.

  “But I love him, Theo. Before you, I thought I could never love any man more than my father.”

  “Don’t talk about him, please.”

  “But I have to. You’re the only one who can understand.”

  The crackling of the fire distracted them for a moment.

  “I dreamed that my mother was talking to me. I never knew my mother; it feels strange to have heard her voice.”

  “Maybe you stored it in your memory from when you were first born.” Then, changing tones, he added, “Julia’s grandmother would’ve said your mother was contacting you. People used to say she was some kind of psychic—it exasperated my parents.”

  “That’s odd. My uncle told me my mother was a machi. I’d always thought that was a princess. But actually it’s her name—Mailen—that means ‘princess.’ Do you know what a machi is?”

  “Yes, they communicate with spirits, have premonitory dreams. . . . It’s a form of shamanism, right?”

  Theo went to get some dry branches from a pile that had been placed not far from the fire.

  “My uncle said that was the reason she was killed.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Her husband didn’t want . . .”

  “Your father?”

  “He would have forbidden her to practice, but I think she kept on doing it without his knowledge.”

  “Have you gotten back in touch with your uncle?”

  “No. I don’t know if I will. I wouldn’t know what to say to him.”

  The heat was becoming almost unbearable. Mia shielded her cheeks with her hands.

  “The thing I’m dreading most is talking to my father again.”

  The fire suddenly leaped up. Amid a shower of sparks, they got up and rolled the dried-out tree trunk they had been sitting on farther away.

  “What are you going to say to him?”

  “I don’t know.” Mia continued, “You see, I think I could have even forgiven him for killing my mother. . . .” Her voice broke. “But I can never forgive him for what he did to you.”

  Dawn was breaking. They stood up, holding each other tight, and threw sand on the fire to put it out. A stray dog trotted toward them with its tail between its legs. It sniffed at the ashes before scampering off. The tide was retreating slowly, leaving a froth of green algae in its wake. In the distance they could see the silhouette of a runner approaching. He sprinted across the sand with a feline grace. Mia watched with envy as he ran past.

  —

  Theo dropped Mia off at her place and went to the airport to pick up Julia. He parked near the arrivals gate and got out of the car. The summer was drawing to a close; a delightful breeze softened the heat rising from the asphalt.

  He saw her come out wheeling her suitcase. She was wearing the white dress they had bought together in the spring. She got into the car, blithe and sunny, radiating a happiness that immediately caused him to tense up. He sped toward the Bronx to get on the Connecticut Turnpike. Julia read his impatience as a mark of affection. She forgot to be tired.

  “Let’s go out for lunch, Theo. We’ve got lots of good news to celebrate.”

  “The sushi bar in Westport?” he answered, inserting a CD into the car stereo.

  The shrill sound of a guitar burst out of the speakers. Julia leaned toward him, lowered the volume, and slipped her arms around his neck.

  “The first bit of great news . . .”

  She leaned back to better assess the effect her announcement might have on him. Theo smiled at her, seemingly focused on the road, while his thoughts were elsewhere. Maybe Mia would be at the sushi bar with Kwan. Then they would have to say hello, make introductions. Or maybe Julia and he would sit down at the next table and he and Mia would pretend to be strangers.

  “Are you listening, my love?”

  “Yes. I don’t want to miss the exit. This is where I always get it wrong.”

  A sea of cars was stopped at the toll booth. Theo switched off the engine and opened the windows.

  “Okay, go on. Tell me. What’s the good news?”

  “Theo, you’re going to be a grandfather!”

  Theo opened his eyes wide as if surprised. He turned the engine on again. The vehicles in front of him had moved. Maybe he would be jealous seeing her with Kwan. When he wasn’t with her . . . This was absurd.

  “. . . a name for a little boy. I’d be very happy if it was a little Josefina. Can you imagine? What do you think?”

  “Me?”

  “Yes. What would you prefer?”

  “Doesn’t matter. Both.”

  “Stop being silly! If it’s a boy, what name would you like? You can’t call a baby both names: Ignace-Josefina!”

  “Ignacio? Why Ignacio?”

  “Ignace, not Ignacio! You haven’t listened to a word I’ve been saying. It’s her father’s name!”

  “Whose father’s name?”

  “Ulysses’ wife’s father, of course! They’ve decided that if it’s a boy she gets to choose the name and if it’s a girl, Ulysses will.”

  “Oh, I see. Right. I didn’t know.”

  They would name their child however they saw fit, Theo thought. It was no longer his problem.

  He turned up the volume. A frenzied drum solo made further conversation impossible. In any case, all his solutions were bad. The worst was to do nothing. No way. El Diablo would pay one way or another, even if death was too good for him. Theo would almost rather see him live as he himself had lived all these years: in the shadows, and in shame.

  “. . . a house overlooking the water, on the rocks. You’ll love it. We’ll have to book our tickets right away. It can be hard to find tickets at Christmastime. Is that okay?”

  “Is what okay?”

  “Going to visit them in December.”

  “We’ll see. We’ve got plenty of time.”

  Theo took the exit ramp and stopped at the red light. It was stupid being this head over heels in love, like a teenager. He had only just left Mia and all he could think of was seeing her again. He drove slowly down the avenue, looking for a place to park; the sun was blinding. He passed the restaurant, holding up a hand to shield his eyes, and spotted her immediately. Mia was sitting at a small table on the sidewalk. She looked up. And smiled.

  —

  They had gotten into the habit of meeting at the hotel in Fairfield, which was halfway between the office and their respective homes. It had been a sultry afternoon. Large black clouds announced an imminent storm. They gazed at each other in the darkness. To him it felt like Mia’s body was made of ether, almost like the result of a vision. The low hum of the air-conditioning did little to cover the noise from the h
ighway. The world rumbled in the distance. He held her tighter.

  “You never told me the details of that dream about your mother.”

  “It was more of a nightmare.”

  “Tell me about it.”

  “I was in a forest, surrounded by trees. All of a sudden, I lost all notion of who I was; I blended into the universe. I was the sky, the grass, the trees. I was breathing through them. I was just beginning to become myself again and to recognize that I had a body when I heard a voice speaking to me, coming from outside. So I tried to remember who I was.”

  “And . . . ?”

  “That voice was my mother’s voice. It seeped into me like the sap of a tree. Her words went round inside me and I didn’t understand. I breathed. I breathed out her love, her suffering, her life.”

  “What a strange dream.”

  “I think about it all the time. That voice keeps haunting me, Theo.”

  “What did she say?”

  “She told me a story about a girl who had lost her mother and then found her again one day. I don’t know if I was the girl, the mother, or the daughter of the girl. I only knew I was one of those three women. When I felt like I was the girl, I saw her searching for her mother behind every tree in a dark, humid forest. In the end, the voice said the mother was coming back, and I felt a bright light spreading through me, but I didn’t experience a feeling of release. I kept feeling the mother’s fear and suffering, like poison in my veins.”

  “A real nightmare.”

  “Her voice was telling me things that I can’t really make any sense of. To get out, to leave, I think. But I can’t shake off this suffering. I wake up tired, as if I was mourning something bigger than me.”

  Mia placed a hand on her forehead and followed the line of a first wrinkle, running like a pencil stroke from one temple to the other.

  “I can’t go on living knowing what he’s done. I don’t want to carry the genes of a monster. I’m scared of being who I am.” A bead of sweat glistened above her mouth. “But I won’t let you kill him.”

  “Don’t say that, Mia.”

  “Bring him to justice. He’ll pay for it in prison.”

  “That would be rewarding him.”

  “I don’t want you to become a monster in turn because of him.”

  “That’s what I’m sentenced to as long as your father is alive.”

  Mia turned over in the bed, overcome by the heat.

  “But you’re not a killer, Theo.”

  “Mia, you know I’m the only one who can make him pay.”

  “Don’t you understand? Death would be a release for him!”

  “You’re saying that because you love him.”

  “Of course I’m saying it because I love him.” She turned and looked at Theo with frantic eyes. “But I’m also saying it because I hate him. I hate him because of what he did to you and your family. I hate him because of what he did to my mother. And because of what he did to me: for keeping me for himself, for calling me ‘Mia.’ Mine. His thing. A reward for his depravity.” She moved back to get a better look at Theo. “But yes, also because I love him.”

  “You have to choose, Mia.”

  “I know what I don’t want to be.”

  A cell phone on the floor buzzed insistently. Theo didn’t even bother turning it off.

  “I don’t want to be like him, Theo, I don’t want blood on my hands. I’d rather die in his place. Avenge your brother’s death by killing me. I’m the most precious thing he has.”

  “You’re crazy.”

  “You’re the crazy one. What kind of life would we lead if you killed my father? Could you go on, knowing that I could only hate you?”

  “I prefer your hatred to your death.”

  “Theo, the two go together. Love alone can give life.”

  Tenderly, he brushed back the strands of hair sticking to Mia’s face. He looked at her in contemplation.

  “I’d rather die than live without you, Mia.”

  —

  The sailboats rocked gently on the mirrorlike surface of the water, a forest of masts reaching skyward. Mia and Theo were sitting at one of the round tables outside, overlooking the marina. Inside the restaurant, waiters wearing frock coats and white gloves swarmed around the customers, holding their trays aloft without looking at one another.

  The chiffon of her ecru dress rippled in the breeze like a second skin. Mia gathered up her hair and twisted it into a bun, securing it with a pencil. She slipped off her high-heeled sandals and irreverently wriggled her bare toes on the wooden slats. The maître d’ pretended not to notice and served them crystal-clear water in glasses filled with clinking ice cubes. The man took a step back. Waiting for Mia to deign to notice him. She turned confidently to Theo.

  “What shall we order, darling?”

  Theo answered hurriedly, hoping to be left alone, but the waiter returned almost immediately to pour the champagne with a flourish. Theo watched him, smiling. He wouldn’t have changed a single thing. As soon as the waiter left, he kissed Mia’s hand. She gave him an amused look.

  “Well?”

  “Well, Julia’s leaving me.”

  “Julia’s leaving you! What do you mean?”

  “She knows about you.”

  Mia traced a design on the tablecloth with her fingers. “How did she possibly find out?”

  “I think she ran into Ben and his wife.”

  “But what could they have told her?”

  “They asked her to dinner and mentioned they would invite you too.”

  “And so?”

  “I suppose it was the way they said it. Ben was with me at the gym when you called off our first date, remember?”

  “I see. Fat Betty also made a snide remark at work when I got back from Argentina.”

  “None of it matters anymore, my darling.”

  “It might. My father called me.”

  Theo remained stone-faced.

  “Don’t you want to know what he said to me?”

  “No, I don’t want to know. I really don’t.”

  “Well, we’ll see.”

  She took her glass of champagne and held it up, moving closer to Theo.

  “To our love.”

  “To an eternity together,” he answered.

  They interlaced their fingers. For the first time Theo experienced a sense of release. The sea was a precious jewel and the sky was worthy of his gaze.

  Mia was his.

  The waiters marched solemnly up to their table, presenting the dishes and uncovering them in unison. The sun was beating down on everything except their table, which basked in welcome shade. But Theo and Mia were oblivious to their surroundings; they carried on laughing and enjoying themselves under the envious gaze of a couple at the next table who hadn’t exchanged a single word.

  Once they had finished their meal, Mia pushed back her chair to face the sea and stared into the distance. She followed a flock of seagulls returning from the open sea. The sky was an expanse of smooth blue separated from the sea by a long mauve line. A slight breeze sprang up, rippling the plate-glass stretch of water. Mia arranged a shawl over her shoulders.

  “I don’t think I’ve ever been this happy.”

  As she said these words, he took the blue velvet box out of his pocket, placed it gently on the white tablecloth, and opened it. He removed the solitaire, reached for Mia’s hand, and slipped the ring onto her finger.

  “So that nothing will ever separate us.”

  —

  The young woman sat on the side of the bed, her head heavy. She had had nightmares all night long. Theo caught her by the waist before she could get up, wanting to kiss her, but she freed herself. She went into the bathroom and took a long shower. When she came out, a cloud of steam billowed into the bedroom as if following her. S
he shut the bathroom door. Theo was standing by the window, about to draw the curtains. She made him stop. She had been avoiding sunlight for days.

  He watched her slip on her black dress and knelt beside her to help her slide her feet into her heels. He couldn’t bear it when she returned to her apartment. Ever since Julia had said she was leaving him, Theo had become needier, almost possessive.

  Mia left him and returned to the bathroom. She emptied out her purse into the sink and stood in front of the mirror, pushing away the damp towels still lying on the floor with her foot. She pulled her hair back and expertly twisted it into a bun that shone like onyx. Then she leaned close to the mirror and rummaged through her makeup. She went through her daily routine, but with extra care.

  When she had finished, she examined herself with satisfaction. I look like my mother. For the first time, the thought of resembling her mother wasn’t left to the realm of abstract concepts. She turned around instinctively and she saw that Theo was staring at her. There was a strange intensity in his look. Unsettled, she glanced around the room, as if someone else was looking at her.

  She finally shrugged, laughing.

  “I keep feeling like he’s going to jump out at us.”

  She extended her arm to caress Theo, who grabbed it with fervor. She broke free, nervously picked up her handbag, and left, shooting him an “I’ll be back soon” look before pulling the door closed behind her.

  —

  When the elevator doors opened on the lobby floor, Mia saw a swarm of men in blue uniforms going up and down the corridors and stationed at all the exits. Police cars were parked at the entrance, lights flashing.

  She intuitively backed away, feeling guilty without knowing why. The police? What were they doing here? What if they’re looking for Theo? The thought hit her like a sledgehammer. She went pale, seized with panic. What if Theo killed my father and didn’t tell me? An officer stared at her from the other side of the lobby. She looked for the nearest exit. No, that’s impossible. We haven’t been apart for days. The policeman bent to whisper something into the ear of another officer, who nodded without turning around. He’s not a killer. Not yet. The policeman crossed the lobby with a firm step, heading toward her. Mia could feel her knees about to give way. Maybe my father’s just killed Theo. They’ve found Theo’s body in the room. They’re coming to question me. She met the policeman’s eyes. That’s ridiculous. I’m losing my mind. The officer approached Mia cautiously. He introduced himself politely, one hand resting on his gun.

 

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