tried to speak lightly, censoring the memory of barely overheard rumors that inevitably circled with respect to Elena among the men under his command. They say the lieutenant’s wife is one of the losers. He married the daughter of a loser. Her father was one of the Reds. “I’m sure Alejandra is too sensible for that.”
“No doubt your family make her feel so welcome.” Tejada was grateful for the humor, however acid. Elena was recovering.
“Well, she’s not one of the family, so they probably mind her less,” he said honestly.
Elena sighed. “I guess I overreacted. It’s just it was such a shock, seeing her sitting there with Toño.”
“It would have caught me off guard, too,” Tejada admitted. He glanced at the clock. It was a few minutes before seven. “Why don’t we go for a walk? We’re supposed to be in the Plaza Bib-Rambla at eight-thirty, but we might walk around the cathedral a bit, if Toño’s awake already.”
Elena agreed with alacrity. Tejada considered suggesting that since Toño had provided himself with a babysitter, they could enjoy the afternoon alone together, but he thought better of it. He volunteered to go and collect his son, and a little while later the three of them set out along the Gran Vía toward the cathedral. Toño was only politely interested in the tombs of Fernando and Isabel despite his father’s attempt to dramatize the story of Granada’s conquerors. But he liked the broad, shallow flight of steps in the Plaza de las Pasiegas. There were alley cats slinking through the afternoon shadows, and, at the far end, near the shuttered marketplace, a group of children hopped through boxes chalked on the flagstones. Toño, who had never played hopscotch, was intrigued. He took a few steps toward the children and felt his father’s restraining hand on his shoulder. He looked up. “I want to go play.”
“Why don’t you play on the steps,” Tejada suggested, glancing at his watch. “We have time.”
“But I want to see what they’re doing.” Toño shook himself loose. He noticed that many of the children seemed to have their mothers with them and was struck by a good idea. “I could play with them for a little while and you could go back and look at the paintings like Mama wanted.”
Elena smiled, amused and touched by Toño’s consideration. She opened her mouth to say that perhaps they should go and introduce themselves before asking someone else’s mama to look after a strange little boy. Her husband forestalled her. “No, Toño, you can’t play with them. They’re Gypsies.”
Elena frowned, disapproving. “Carlos—”
He shook his head at her. “No. It’s too dangerous.” He turned back to his son. “I’ll bet you can’t hop down all the steps to the first landing on one foot.”
“Yes, I can!”
“ And back up?” Tejada feigned skepticism.
Toño smiled, knowing he was being teased. “I’ll race you.”
“You’re on.”
Elena stood in the shadow of the cathedral and watched her family hop, at a safe distance from the Gypsy children. From a distance, the Gypsies did not look so terrible. No poorer or dirtier than some of the village kids in Potes. A better woman, Elena decided, would have walked down the steps to meet them. But Gypsies had not been part of her childhood, and a lurking fear for Toño held her still. All the old stories about Gypsies kidnapping children were ridiculous, of course. And if they turned to begging or theft it was because they were desperately poor, the last hired and the first fired even in good times, persecuted and despised beyond all reason. But Carlos had grown up here, and she was a stranger, and he had been very positive. She wondered if he would have let Alejandra play with Gypsy children. Then, thinking of Alejandra, Elena wondered if she would have gone over to speak to them ten years earlier, before she had known her husband. She shivered as the shadows grew longer and wished that she was at
“No doubt your family make her feel so welcome.” Tejada was grateful for the humor, however acid. Elena was recovering.
“Well, she’s not one of the family, so they probably mind her less,” he said honestly.
Elena sighed. “I guess I overreacted. It’s just it was such a shock, seeing her sitting there with Toño.”
“It would have caught me off guard, too,” Tejada admitted. He glanced at the clock. It was a few minutes before seven. “Why don’t we go for a walk? We’re supposed to be in the Plaza Bib-Rambla at eight-thirty, but we might walk around the cathedral a bit, if Toño’s awake already.”
Elena agreed with alacrity. Tejada considered suggesting that since Toño had provided himself with a babysitter, they could enjoy the afternoon alone together, but he thought better of it. He volunteered to go and collect his son, and a little while later the three of them set out along the Gran Vía toward the cathedral. Toño was only politely interested in the tombs of Fernando and Isabel despite his father’s attempt to dramatize the story of Granada’s conquerors. But he liked the broad, shallow flight of steps in the Plaza de las Pasiegas. There were alley cats slinking through the afternoon shadows, and, at the far end, near the shuttered marketplace, a group of children hopped through boxes chalked on the flagstones. Toño, who had never played hopscotch, was intrigued. He took a few steps toward the children and felt his father’s restraining hand on his shoulder. He looked up. “I want to go play.”
“Why don’t you play on the steps,” Tejada suggested, glancing at his watch. “We have time.”
“But I want to see what they’re doing.” Toño shook himself loose. He noticed that many of the children seemed to have their mothers with them and was struck by a good idea. “I could play with them for a little while and you could go back and look at the paintings like Mama wanted.”
Elena smiled, amused and touched by Toño’s consideration. She opened her mouth to say that perhaps they should go and introduce themselves before asking someone else’s mama to look after a strange little boy. Her husband forestalled her. “No, Toño, you can’t play with them. They’re Gypsies.”
Elena frowned, disapproving. “Carlos—”
He shook his head at her. “No. It’s too dangerous.” He turned back to his son. “I’ll bet you can’t hop down all the steps to the first landing on one foot.”
“Yes, I can!”
“ And back up?” Tejada feigned skepticism.
Toño smiled, knowing he was being teased. “I’ll race you.”
“You’re on.”
Elena stood in the shadow of the cathedral and watched her family hop, at a safe distance from the Gypsy children. From a distance, the Gypsies did not look so terrible. No poorer or dirtier than some of the village kids in Potes. A better woman, Elena decided, would have walked down the steps to meet them. But Gypsies had not been part of her childhood, and a lurking fear for Toño held her still. All the old stories about Gypsies kidnapping children were ridiculous, of course. And if they turned to begging or theft it was because they were desperately poor, the last hired and the first fired even in good times, persecuted and despised beyond all reason. But Carlos had grown up here, and she was a stranger, and he had been very positive. She wondered if he would have let Alejandra play with Gypsy children. Then, thinking of Alejandra, Elena wondered if she would have gone over to speak to them ten years earlier, before she had known her husband. She shivered as the shadows grew longer and wished that she was at
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