Page 34 of Sol
Pointing at the pack and handing her some Euro coins, I stuttered, “Yo quiero dosmentos.”
“Claro que sí, guapo,” she said with a smile, and handed me the candy and my change. I stared at it in myhand.
Wow. Thatworked.
But this exchange might be enough Spain for me for the night. I turned back. On my way to my hostel, I passed a yoga studio I hadn’t noticedbefore.
The owner hadn’t closed the building up for the evening yet, and I peered in. Wide glass windows opened to a display of yoga mats, blankets, and blocks. There was a sort of altar off to the side with burned incense and flowers and candles. A large screen prevented you from seeing into the classroom, but you could tell it had light and air and a clean hardwood floor during theday.
I dugit.
A dark-haired woman approached the door from the inside, opened it, and closed it behind her with a smile. She was small, wearing loose, wildly patterned pants, and a tank top. As she locked the door, she murmured, “Hola.”
Every chance I get to practice my Spanish felt like a supremetest.
“Hola.”
I passed. I gave myself an internal highfive.
“¿Quieres saber más deyoga?”
I understood that. Did I want to learn more about yoga? “Sí,” I said, a bubble of fucking delight going through me because a stranger in this town understoodme.
“Aquí está un folleto de nuestras clases. Vos invito a la clase de yoga. Tenemos acroyoga, también, si quiereis venir con vuestra amiga.Es yoga deparejas.”
I didn’t know what any of that meant. I think she meant I could do yoga with afriend.
“Gracias,” I said, and then stood there lamely folding the pamphlet, not sure how to say anything more. Could I take the class if I didn’t understand theteacher?
Guess I already was doing that in Dani’s class. Maybe I should check this out,too.
She smiled again, said, “Adios,” and pulled down the metal door to close up for thenight.
I went up to my room and flopped on my bed, staring at the ceiling as usual. I’d go running tomorrow. Get back into mydisciplines.
One thing hadn’t changed—my desire to protect her. It didn’t matter what she thought of me. It just mattered that she was secure. Always. Even if she hated me for the rest of her life, even if she never spoke to me again, I’d always watch over her. She’d always be caredfor.
If my heart never sewed itself back together after being broken by Degan’s death and her rejection, that was a small price to pay for her to livefree.
* * *
In class on Wednesday,she ignoredme.
“Learning Spanish in Granada is like learning English in New Orleans. There is a strong drawl. It’s not at all like the textbooks,” she said. “Spoken language, interpretation, is informal, fast-paced, anddifficult.”
I’d half expected a substitute teacher for bereavement. But I guess not for someone as deep in denial asDani.
“The advantage to learning a language in a place with a strong accent or dialect is that once you learn it, you can do it anywhere. Like learning to drive a stick shift in the hills of SanFrancisco.”
Great. I was learning Spanish in the extra-challenging place.Fantastic.
The only attention she gave me was to hand me an article to translate, touching my shoulder with the slightest graze. Like you’d touch the center of adaisy.
Despite the temperature, we both shivered. Electricity passed through her to me, up and down my spine and along my arms to myfingertips.
Goddamn.
Except for that moment, she very obviously avoided looking at me or acknowledging my presence in any form. I might as well have been a ghost. A very unwelcomeghost.
