Page 41 of One Year Ago in Spain
“It is a possibility,amor.”
“No. It isnot.” Soledad flung off the covers and launched herself out of bed.
“Where are you going?”
“To pray. To beg God to take some of the years off my life to give to Matías.”
“Soledad, por favor.”
“I would sacrifice my entire life for my children!”
“But you don’t need to do that.”
There was a pause.
And then, barely audible, she asked, “How do you know?”
Armando didn’t have an answer.
Soledad tried to swallow the fear in her throat, but it stuck.
He climbed out of bed.
“Wait for me, Soledad. I am coming to pray, too.”
Claire
Time had beenpassing like Claire was wading upstream through molasses, but the next morning, she finally began to feel a bit stronger, buoyed by the love of the de Leóns. While the rest of his family read to him from books—or sang, if it was Abuela Gloria—Claire started playing Spanish audio lessons on her phone when she was with Matías, trying out new phrases and acting out the practice dialogues in his room in hopes that he would hear her trying to talk to him in the language he loved most.
Also, Claire had a plan about how to find Matías’s soul again.
She arrived at Hospital Universitario La Paz as soon as visiting hours began and took her place in the chair beside Matías’s bed. But today she had brought her computer. Between Spanish audio lessons, she was going to spend the morning researching ideas for things she could do with Matías’s soul in Madrid—basically, dates—while also keeping the physical part of him company.
Then, at 2p.m.when everyone else took a break for lunch, Claire would go back to the drink kiosk in the park where she’d seen him yesterday. The most logical place to find something you’d misplaced was to retrace your steps. She hoped it went for souls, too, even though she hadn’t exactly “misplaced” him.
“Buenos días, Claire,” Soledad said as she and Armando entered the hospital room.
“Buenos días,” she said. “¿Cómo estáis?”
Armando made a low noise in his throat and shrugged. Claire knew what he meant. When someone you love is in a coma, just getting through the night is a victory.
“You are not working, are you?” Soledad asked, forehead furrowed as she glanced at Claire’s laptop.
The thing is, Clairehadbeen checking in with work once a day since she arrived in Madrid. It was impossible not to, because they needed her. But she wasn’t working at this very minute. And yet, how could she explain that she was brainstorming dates to go on with Soledad’s unconscious son?
“I’m writing down ideas for things to do in Spain with Matías when he wakes,” she said.
Soledad touched the cross she wore. “That is good. Optimism is a form of prayer. Matías will feel it.”
Armando squeezed Soledad’s hand.
Claire began searching the internet for ideas—things she could do with someone who didn’t have a solid body. She wasn’t sure what would happen if Matías were faced with having to hold or lift something. He’d been able to key her phone number into his phone yesterday, but what if he had to touch something inthisworld, something that didn’t already belong to him, like a fork or a glass of wine? Professor Hong had mentioned that Claire couldn’t touch Matías because she’d go right through him. So maybe a fork wouldn’t register and he’d gloss over it, like when she asked him what year it was and he got confused for a second, then brushed it off?
Or maybe it would jar his soul into realizing he wasn’t reallyMatías, and that might cause his tenuous connection to this world to break. And then the Matías who was lying in the hospital bed in front of her would be lost for good.
The third possibility was that Professor Hong was completely wrong about everything, but that wasn’t a chance Claire was willing to take.
Okay, so meals are out,she thought. But even though food was a big part of the Spanish culture, there were plenty of things to do in Madrid that didn’t involve eating.
