A Most Uncivil War Read online

  Raul looks up from the table at the other man and allows himself a smile. “You are right,” he replies.

  The man looks towards Salvador and Cati. “And the boy?”

  Raul looks across the room. “He is a good boy. I wanted him to see this with his own eyes. I’ll explain my situation to him on the way home,” he answers.

  In the distance a small flurry of gunfire echoes through the narrow streets. Cati says under her breath to herself, “Pistols.” She listens to the silence that follows it before looking at Salvador and continuing, “Nothing to worry about.” Consumed by awe, Salvador feels safe, excited and entranced by her.

  One of the babies wakes up and starts crying. The mother is in the next room so Cati picks up the child and rocks it in her arms. The contradiction of the masculinity of the pistol and the femininity of the rocking child at once both confuses and inspires Salvador. In the village the roles are more simple for him to understand; in the city he finds himself wrestling with a world that is very foreign to him wherever he looks.

  He watches her sing softly in Catalan, her lips brushing the forehead of the little boy as the words caress him. The man stands up from the table and takes the boy from her. He walks back to the table and sits down, gently rocking the baby as he continues his conversation with Raul.

  Cati sees the confusion in Salvador’s eyes. She tries to explain, “For us, everyone is equal. Men and women can both soothe a crying baby.” She shifts the holster slightly so the pistol lies across the top of her thighs. “And just as the guard’s bullets won’t just kill the men, so we must all fight.”

  Salvador nods his head. “I think I understand. It is just so very different from the village.”

  She smiles knowingly. Her black eyebrows push a furrow into her brow. “The rich make us all suffer, whether we have cocks or not. We all starve, so we all fight,” she says.

  Salvador’s focus flits between her eyes and her lips as she speaks. A crooked smile reveals a small dimple in her cheek that he hadn’t noticed before. He tries to maintain a mature dignity. “Your cousin told me that no man is above me or below me.”

  Her smile breaks across her whole mouth, making the dimples on either side appear. “My cousin should choose his words more carefully. No person is above you, or any below you. That applies to women as well.”

  In that instant Salvador knows that he is at a turning point in his life. He knows that he will never again see the world the way he did before. Her words resonate in his mind and her beauty transfixes him. The world that had been so cruel and confusing finally starts making sense. In that moment he knows that there is a solution and, most importantly, that he is not alone in recognising it.

  He feels a hand on his shoulder. He looks up to see Raul looking down at both of them. He tells them, “I’m finished here. Let’s go to your house.”

  Caterina lifts herself up and carries the chair back to the table. “Good, I am ready to eat,” she says.

  “Will your mother have food for us?” Raul asks.

  “Once you are settled I will go and get whatever she needs from the market,” Cati replies.

  Salvador follows them down the stairs knowing that in a few moments he will be back in the street. The prospect of his senses being inundated with visions of emaciated bodies struggling to hang on to life, the cries of those that can suffer no more and the stench of human misery doesn’t induce fear as it had earlier, now it feels like it is adding fuel to his anger. As he descends the stairs the nervous anticipation builds inside.

  Chapter 11

  It doesn’t take long to reach Caterina’s home and when they do, Salvador looks up at yet another looming brown building in a narrow, claustrophobic street. They climb the stairs and enter the flat. When Cati’s mother sees Raul in the doorway her wails of joy echo out onto the landing and up and down the stairwell of the building. Raul implores her to be quiet as he closes the door hastily behind him.

  Cati’s younger brother and sister come running to the hallway and wrap their arms around her waist, pushing and pulling her further into the musty apartment like the saint at the head of a procession. He notices that the similarities between her family: the dimples, straight nose and aquiline jaw, are traits they all share. Uncomfortably aware of the fact that he has been left standing in the hall to fend for himself he nonchalantly looks around. The narrow hall leads to a main room, a bedroom, a toilet and a kitchen.

  Cati notices his awkwardness and pulls him into the main room. In his mind he wonders if there is a father and whether he is like the fighting men in the bar or the drinking men on the streets. The noise of the adults and the children continues making it hard for Salvador to discern much from his surroundings but what is clear is that Raul and his aunt are very fond of each other and that they have missed each other greatly.

  Once the initial din subsides Salvador finds himself sitting on the floor in the corner of the main room with Cati’s brother and sister sitting with him. As he talks to the children he watches Raul hand Cati some money from a small leather purse before pushing the purse across the table to the older woman. The children demand his attention and he finds it difficult to watch the adults and engage the children at the same time. Sensing his role is with the children, he focuses on keeping them entertained. From the corner of his eye he catches Cati watching him and smiling. She turns to leave the room and as his gaze slides down her back, it glances upon the curve of her waist and on the sway of her behind as she leaves the flat. As the door closes he realises that she has taken off the belt and pistol.

  The evening passes slowly. Eventually, the young children fall asleep and the adults’ conversation draws to a close. Raul and Salvador lie down on the floor in the main room, while Cati retires to the bedroom with her mother and siblings.

  The young woman struggles for an hour to get to sleep with thoughts of the young boy’s innocent eyes and rapt focus keeping her awake. In the next room Salvador tries to submit to memory everything about her: the dimples, the flowing ponytail, the curve from her waist to hip, the oval, mahogany brown eyes: all of the things that feed his newly-discovered nervous energy.

  The young man lies awake most of the night, flitting between the memories of yesterday and the fantasies of tomorrow. His tired half-closed eyes notice the pre-dawn glow in the sky through the open windows. The streets outside are nearly silent when he finally feels his eyes closing and exhaustion drag him towards the floor beneath him.

  After what feels like only a few seconds he is woken with a jolt. He blinks and squints his eyes. The sunshine is flooding through the windows and the two children are sitting on the floor in front of him staring directly at him. In the moments it takes to focus his mind he busily scrambles to position himself in the world. Like a jigsaw puzzle, the memories one by one anchor him first in the city and then in the apartment.

  He pulls himself up onto his elbow and looks around the room. Hearing him move, Cati looks up from the table and smiles. “Good morning, beautiful boy,” she says as she pours a cup of coffee from a pan. She places it on the table opposite her. He gets up and stretches his arm to the ceiling, pulling his aching muscles and spine to their full length. He lets out a deep and welcome sigh.

  She lets her eyes take in his whole body as he stretches in front of her. He joins her at the table with the children following his every move in silence. He drinks the coffee. She starts speaking, “A message came for Raul very early so he has gone to meet someone.” Salvador nods, blinking the tiredness from his eyes. She continues, “I am to take you to the train in a few hours. But perhaps you would like to see some of the city before you go?” Without waiting for a response, she carries on, “If you want to clean yourself there is a bucket of water in the kitchen. I will take the little ones to a neighbour and then we can go.” He agrees and lumbers clumsily into the kitchen, the sleep still partially stupefying his
movements.

  By the time they reach the street the heat of the city is once again overbearing and the humidity doesn’t take long to drench their clothes. She wears a simple cotton dress and sandals. At her waist is a belt with a small pack resting against her hip. As they walk through the streets he tries to steal glances at her without being noticed. He isn’t as subtle as he thinks. The rolled-up sleeves of the dress expose her brown arms and as the sun illuminates the soft hair it creates an illusion of a downy aura surrounding her. He keeps looking. The cotton clings to her curves like a second skin and her loose hair flutters in the wind, exposing her collarbones. He studies her and she feigns ignorance.

  She carries on describing the area. The noise of the street wrestles his attention back and the moment he sees the poverty surrounding him the guilt and anger once again start closing in on him. The drawn faces and sallow complexions of the people scare him. He listens in silence as she tells him of the factory where she had worked until the strike and the community centre where Raul taught her as a child. He notices the absence of a father in her story and unable to hold his tongue any longer he interrupts, “And your father?”

  She forces a half-smile and gestures to a bar, “Let’s sit down and have something.”

  “I don’t have any money,” he answers with embarrassment.

  “Don’t worry; Pepe left us money for breakfast. He told me to make sure you didn’t go hungry.”

  They sit down and she calls over the waiter. He greets her by name. She asks Salvador, “Bread and coffee?” He nods and she repeats it to the waiter, holding up two fingers. Salvador thinks that if he remains silent it will force Cati to answer the still open question. He watches her as she lets her eyes scan the street in front of them for a few moments.

  “Pepe cares very much for you,” she says. The young man nods his agreement. A small smile flashes across her lips before she continues, “My father was arrested. He was expropriating money from a bank for the union when the guards arrived.” Salvador watches her as her eyes glaze over ever so slightly. She carries on, “One of the guards was killed and my father was wounded, which is why his comrades couldn’t get him away.”

  Salvador leans forward in his chair. “I am so sorry,” he says sincerely.

  She smiles back at him. Her eyes are struggling to hold back the imminent tears. She pauses to take the black and red neckerchief from the belt pack and dab at her eyes before continuing. “You don’t need to be sorry, our community was there for us,” she tells him.

  The waiter returns to the table. The two of them sit in silence as he puts the plate and glasses on the table. They both smile and nod gratefully towards him. Cati waits for him to be out of earshot before continuing. “He is still in prison. I don’t think they will ever release him. The years have been hard on him and he is not well.” Not knowing the best thing to say, Salvador says nothing, sympathetically nodding his head. He leans across the table and puts his hand on hers. She looks up at him and forces a smile, wiping away the one tear rolling down her cheek. She squeezes his hand before pulling back. “Let’s eat and enough of this talk. You must tell me of your life in the country,” she says.

  After leaving the bar they make their way on to La Rambla. The number of people moving in all directions in a maelstrom of activity is overwhelming in comparison to the side streets. Salvador finds himself at a loss for words as his eyes widen and the tumult envelopes him. For a few moments the two young people stand still like rocks jutting out of the waves, the crowd flowing around them.

  Cati gives him a moment to acclimatise before taking his arm in hers and guiding him up the pedestrianised centre of the street through the people. Nervously, he pulls her closer for security. His forearm pushes tight into her waist and he feels their upper arms pressed hard against one another.

  They reach the Plaza De Catalunya and as Salvador looks out across the square he believes it is big enough to house his entire village. He stands staring in speechless awe; the entrances to the Metro station are a constant ebb of people, electric trolley cars jostle with automobiles and an apparently endless flood of people struggle against one another to push their way through towards their destinations. He holds on tightly as he feels the panic closing in, his senses overwhelmed.

  Cati pressing against him makes him feel safe and anchors him in the moment. In that instant he changes from being a lone spectator to sharing the moment with another. She leans into his ear. “My city is both beautiful and terrifying, no?” Unthinking, he turns to face her and they find their faces uncomfortably close to one another. Unable to draw away from her eyes, the square and the crowds disappear into the distance.

  She turns away nervously and pulls him forwards towards the square. The noise and commotion crash back against his senses. She hurries him on, “Come on, we still have a way to go yet.” They make their way around the outside of the square, walking alongside the buildings to avoid the crowds. It doesn’t take long for them to reach one of the streets inclining up towards Mount Tibidabo far in the distance. They turn onto the street and the crowd almost immediately lessens, bringing a desperately welcome respite to the eager couple struggling against the oppressive heat.

  The leisurely walk to the station takes an hour and as the distance between them and the centre of the city grows, so the evidence of wealth around them increases. They never let their arms disengage from one another, but as the minutes pass and the claustrophobia of the centre disappears, so the desperation of their embrace also subsides. Their conversation continues, feeling increasingly natural with every step.

  Although neither acknowledges it verbally, as they walk under the shade of the trees, both feel an inevitability to their having met. In the days to come he finds it hard to recollect what they had discussed; rather revelling in the memory of the carefree happiness that had engulfed them both and how he felt his life had always been moving towards that moment. She, on the other hand, speaks to her friends about him, both embarrassed of their difference in age but also unable to hide her feelings towards him.

  As they get closer to the station she begins to feel a darkness growing around her as their separation looms. She struggles to decide how to make the bond in some way permanent. She pulls him to a stop with the station in sight. He looks into her eyes, unaware of the urgency simmering inside her. She pulls the neckerchief from the bag at her belt and puts it into his hand, closing her hands around his.

  Feeling both of her hands around his, a fear begins to nag at him. The world around them disappears and in that moment in his eyes only she exists. She leans in and whispers into his ear, “This is for you.” Feeling her warm breath on his ear the hair on the nape of his neck stands up. He leans the side of his face against hers so that her lips brush against his ear and she puts her arms around him. They stand for nearly a minute pressed hard against each other, both their eyes firmly shutting out all other distractions.

  In an instant he knows what it is he must do. He pushes her back far enough to look into her eyes. The warmth in his gaze wraps around her as he leans forward and kisses her on the lips. She feels the muscle above her knee quivering and holds on tightly to him to stop herself from falling. He leans into her ear and says, “I promise I will write to you as soon as I get back.” He kisses her again; this time keeping their lips pressed together for a moment. He feels the tip of her tongue quivering against the opening of his mouth.

  As they pull back from their embrace she looks down at the floor, trying to stifle the tears welling in her eyes. His hand that is wrapped around the neckerchief tightens into a fist and the blood drains from his knuckles. He puts his other arm through hers. “We need to go. Raul will be waiting, no?”

  Cati feels a shiver run through her body and hears it in her voice as she answers, “Yes. He is going to meet us.” She scans the street and points to a café. “There.”

  Entering the café
, they see Raul sitting at a table with the man from the night before. On reaching the table, Raul looks up and smiles at both of them. “Good morning?” he asks. They both nod in silence. Raul pays the bill and collects his jacket and bag as the two men follow Cati and Salvador out of the café.

  The two men walk ahead of them slowly towards the station. Cati walks slightly ahead of Salvador with her hand open behind her back so only he can see it. He takes it in his hand. He feels the soft flesh of her behind through the cotton dress under the tips of his fingers as she pulls his hand tight against her. Raul turns to make sure they are following. Unaware of the intimacy occurring behind her back, he smiles at them both.

  When they reach the station the young couple unlock their hands as the men in front of them slow to a halt. The man hands Raul a flat cap as both say their goodbyes laughing. After the man leaves, Raul turns to Cati and kisses her on both cheeks. He then turns to Salvador and gestures with his head towards the station. As Salvador draws closer to Cati to kiss her on both cheeks he feels her open hand press reassuringly against his chest and when he pulls away her hand falls surreptitiously back to her side.

  He turns away and walks towards the station. Cati stands watching the two of them leaving. The hand that had been on his chest rests softly against her stomach, measuring the rise and fall of her breath. She stands craning her head to keep them in view for as long as possible. She can feel the sun beating down on her back. They disappear into the crowd entering the station. She hangs her head and stares at the pavement beneath her feet. After a few seconds she turns and walks away from the station.

  Raul watches Salvador closely as he looks wistfully out of the window as the train shudders out of the station. He notices the neckerchief in his hand. “What is that?”

  Salvador, shaken from his daze, looks at where Raul is looking and notices his hand still wrapped tightly around the cloth. He opens his hand up and the red and black cloth becomes fully apparent. “A present from your cousin,” he replies.