Page 115 of The Moon Sister
Pepe returned with a glass of some noxious-looking liquid clasped in his hand.
‘Will help heal the wound in your heart and soul,’ she said, as Pepe placed it in front of me.
‘What is it?’ I asked.
‘Not important,’ said Pepe. ‘Angelina says you must drink it.’
‘Okay.’ I picked up the glass dubiously and hesitated at the strong, strange smell.
‘Just drink,’ Angelina urged me.
‘How long are you staying?’ Pepe asked as soon as I’d swallowed the last mouthful of the revolting liquid.
‘I haven’t even thought about it. I just got on a plane and came here. I didn’t expect to find you so easily.’
‘Now you are here, you must stay for a while, because Angelina has much to teach you.’
I turned to look at my great-uncle and then to my cousin.
‘Did either of you ever meet my mother and father?’
‘Of course,’ said Pepe. ‘We live next door for many years. We here at your birth.’ Pepe indicated the outer wall of the cave. ‘You born in there.’
‘What was my mother’s name?’
‘Isadora,’ Pepe said gravely and Angelina lowered her head.
‘Isadora . . .’ I said, trying out the name on my tongue.
‘Erizo, how much you know about your past?’ Angelina asked me.
‘Chilly has told me most of what happened before Lucía went to Barcelona. And then about how María went to find her and José there. Will you tell me what happened next, please?’ I urged them.
‘We will, but first we must go back to where Chilly left off,’ said Angelina. ‘You must know everything. It will take many hours to tell the story.’
‘I have all the time in the world,’ I smiled, realising I did.
‘You must know where you have come from to see where you are going, Erizo. As long as you have the energy to concentrate, I will begin.’ Angelina reached to me and took my pulse. She nodded. ‘Okay. Is better.’
‘Good,’ I replied, thinking that Ididfeel better. My heart had stopped racing and I felt unusually calm.
‘Well then, you know Lucía was with her papá, dancing in Barcelona, after her mother left to return to Sacromonte?’
‘Yes.’
‘Lucía stay away from Sacromonte for over ten years, learning her craft. She dance in many places, but always she and José go back to Barcelona. So I will begin from when Lucía is twenty-one. It would have been, let me see . . . 1933 . . .’
Lucía
Barcelona, Spain
August 1933
Flamenco fan (abanico)
Used in flamenco dancing as well as the secret language of flirtation.
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