Page 43 of Healing Hazel

A rush of gratitude filled her chest and pushed up into her throat and eyes. She was overwhelmed by the emotions that accompanied her attending a funeral and parting with Nerea but also by Dr. Jackson’s thoughtfulness. The action was small, and it had taken him mere minutes to perform, but to her, at this moment, it meant everything. “Thank you,” she whispered.

His expression was gentle. He stood close, their bodies not quite touching, but she felt him there, and she could not think of another person she’d rather have at her side.

The priest spoke and prayed and read from the Bible. He sprinkled holy water onto the coffins and let the smoke of holy incense cover them. Other members of the village spoke as well, and there was singing.

Hazel bounced the baby softly throughout. She didn’t understand a word of the ceremony, but she was moved by the beauty of the music and the expressions of the people around her. The love she felt, the sense of community and their shared sorrow, filled her with a profound sadness. She thought of the friends she’d left behind in London, of her father away in Africa, of the people she’d known in India, of her mother, of Jakinda, and tears coursed down her cheeks.

Dr. Jackson offered her a handkerchief, but Hazel shook her head. She couldn’t spare a hand to wipe her eyes just yet, and besides, she wanted to weep, to wail like the mourning women, to sob until her eyes ached and she was out of breath. All her disappointment and fear and pain—it felt cleansing, cathartic to release it, so Hazel hugged Nerea close and let her tears flow.

Dr. Jackson put an arm around her, and Hazel did not care one bit if anyone saw.

As she wept, her grief changed into something else. She felt the love of the village, how they honored their dead, how they took care of one another. Glancing down at Nerea, she realized what a wonderful life the baby would have here, among such good people. She glanced up at the mountains beyond the village, seeing the pine trees and the leafless trees that waited for spring to bloom. Her gaze traveled to the churchyard and the village around it, and she thought of how Nerea would grow here and play as a young girl, her brown eyes shining as she skipped down the cobblestone roads. A wave of warmth comforted her.

When the priest was finished, Dr. Jackson studied her face, offering his handkerchief again.

She must look a sight. Hazel took it then, adjusting her hold on Nerea so she could wipe her eyes and nose. Dr. Jackson didn’t say anything, and she was glad for it, not wanting to put her feelings into words.

After a moment, he glanced toward the graves. “I should help, but if you’d prefer, I will stay.”

Hazel shook her head. “I am better now.” And she was. Though she still felt sadness, it was as if a pressure valve had been released and she could breathe easily. She was at peace.

When Dr. Jackson was gone, Hazel walked back toward the low wall but stopped when Lucía called her name.

She turned to find Lucía and the tall woman with the black headscarf walking toward her. Her stomach got heavy. The moment had come. But she was ready now. She held Nerea close, the baby’s forehead resting on her neck.

“This is the child’s aunt,” Lucía said.

“You are Iraxte Royo.” Hazel smiled at the woman.

Iraxte placed a gentle hand on Nerea’s back. Her eyes were kind, and though she was taller and older than her sister, Hazel could see the resemblance to Jakinda.

Iraxte spoke—whether to Hazel or to the baby was uncertain. Hazel couldn’t understand her words, but she realized there was no need to.

She kissed Nerea. “You be a good girl for your aunt,” she whispered. She leaned the baby back, looking at her round face, and kissed her one more time. She pulled the hat down once more to cover Nerea’s ears and handed her to her aunt.

Iraxte took her, nestling the baby against her. She spoke to Lucía.

“She says thank you for returning her family safely.”

Hazel nodded, watching Nerea. The baby grinned at her aunt, and the woman smiled back, a warm and loving expression that set Hazel’s worries at ease. “Will you tell her that Nerea likes to be walked at night? It is the only way she will sleep.” She held out the rucksack, putting it over Iraxte’s shoulder. Inside the bag was another blanket that had been cut down to a baby’s size, extra bottles, a few hats, and some socks knitted by Nella. “And she prefers to be wrapped tightly in her blanket. It calms her.”

Lucía spoke to Iraxte for a moment.

Iraxte replied, her gaze taking in both women. She glanced back toward the churchyard and spoke again.

“The village is to have a funeral dinner. She invited us to attend.”

Hazel gave a small curtsy, not knowing how else to communicate her gratitude for the invitation. “Thank you.”

Iraxte bid the other two women farewell and started back toward the churchyard, carrying Nerea away. Hazel felt a pang, but that was all.

Another thought came to her, and she hurried after Iraxte. “Wait one moment, please.” She unclasped her moonstone necklace and pressed it into the woman’s hand. “For Nerea,” she said, “when she is grown.” She hoped the stone would be worth enough for a dowry or, if Nerea chose, for an education.

Iraxte looked at the necklace and nodded her understanding. She put it into her apron pocket and turned Nerea around to face Hazel. The baby gave an enormous smile, her brown eyes bright. Hazel cupped Nerea’s cheek, said goodbye once more, and left, returning to Lucía.

The dinner took place in the courtyard in front of the church. Hazel stood to one side of the space in a sunny spot, watching the preparations. The noonday sun was warm, glowing pleasantly on the tan-colored stone of the church. Tables were filled with delicious-smelling food and drink. There was singing, conversation, and pleasant laughter. She couldn’t help but compare the scene again to the same location only a week earlier in the aftermath of the attack, when bricks, wood splinters, and glass fragments were strewn across the ground, mingled with the blood of the injured. It was such a contrast that she stared for a long moment, marveling at the resilience of human beings.

Footsteps sounded on the cobblestones beside her.

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