Matadepera, 1915.
Once the news had spread to the monastery, all the monks came to visit the miraculous. He couldn't stand up yet and was just starting to use his vocal cords normally again. He still managed to say that his name was Diego and that he had family to contact in Barcelona. Everyone wondered about him, but for him it was even worse. He didn't remember anything that had happened, or how he had landed at the foot of the monastery.
— Señor, we have contacted your family, Constantine told him. They will be coming very soon. I have no more information except that they have looked for you, everywhere and relentlessly, since your accident.
— Thank you very much, I am happy too. I hope this reunion will allow me to piece together the piece of my life that still eludes me.
The voice was still very hoarse, the words hardly came. Constantine saw that he still had difficulty carrying on a conversation. He continued nonetheless, taking time to form the words.
— Believe that I am grateful to you and also sorry for all the concern that I am causing you. Brother Armando and you saved my life where others would have left an unconscious person for so long.
— You are our miracle, God is witness to it, smiles Constantine.
— Please excuse me for my difficulty in expressing myself. I am still very tired and today my head hurts a lot.
Brother Armando had just arrived in the room and he answered Diego's remark.
— Seems pretty normal to me despite the weather due to the deep cut you had. Everything will be better when you get home. You had very serious injuries when we found you, almost unconscious, trapped in the bushes below the wall of the church. It was Brother Leonardo who heard your moans and looked for where this noise could come from. At the time he thought it was the wind or maybe an animal, a wounded boar. Luckily, he got into the undergrowth to check!
— I would be eternally grateful to him! It's amazing because the name doesn't ring a bell, I don't even know where this monastery is.
Armando nodded in agreement.
— I remember my name but that's absolutely it. No matter how much I search, I have no memory of who I am or what I was doing. How did I get here and especially where could I come from? And my clothes, how were they? And was I carrying something?
— Work clothes, gray-blue I think, because the material was not of the best quality. They were so damaged, smelly and bloody, that we had to burn them. In addition, you had nothing in your pockets and no bag or luggage, neither on you nor nearby. We combed the entire area below the monastery.
— And the injuries, asked Diego, how were my injuries? Did you think I was molested, or were they just the result of a fall?
— There were so many that I can hardly remember! According to Brother Armando, your injuries probably indicate that you fought, certainly in defense, because I don't see you as the attacker. It is also likely that you were in chains, and for quite a long time, because you had infected wounds, appearing to be from chains, to the wrists and ankles.
— It doesn't remind me of anything at all, Diego breathed in a sort of restrained sob.
The moral suffering after forgetting a part of his life was so strong that Armando thought the interview was over.
— Do you have any idea where I may have been detained? asked Diego, recovering after this moment of distress.
— No Alas. But you were definitely in a dark place because your eyes seemed unable to see at first. You might even have been tortured. You were then abandoned, in agony, in a place difficult to access, so that no one would find you. I think your attackers believed you were dead and that you regained consciousness with the pain of the fall. It was thanks to your moans that we were able to locate you.
Diego remained thoughtful for a few moments. He tried to sit on the bed and Constantine arranged his pillows so that he could be comfortable.
— If this position is uncomfortable for you, do not hesitate to ask me to help you? Armando offered.
— No, I'm fine. Thanks for the cushions. I feel like my muscles don't support me anymore.
— I understand, replied the monk. You were lying down for so long that your muscles finally melted. By the way, when you arrived, you had an athletic body and the muscles of a person accustomed to regular physical activity.
This precision challenged Diego as if an old memory was stealthily returning, but he fled as quickly as he had appeared.
— It will take some time and some exercise for your physical functions to be restored and you to be as before. Even walking will tire you out at first. You won't have to push too hard and give your body time. You have come a long way. I had never seen a body as damaged as yours.
Diego felt that it was more and more difficult to keep his eyes open. He fell asleep for a few minutes without even realizing it. When he opened his eyes, the two religious were still there and Brother Armando was checking his pulse.
— Rest, Señor, everything is normal. Don't fight, you need to recover so badly, Armando reassured him. We will be back in an hour to bring you a more substantial meal than what you have eaten since your arrival.
The gastric tube that had fed him throughout his recovery was just a bad memory. The warm herbal teas had calmed the essential but Diego still felt the burn from the contact of the tube he had kept so long at the back of his throat. These monks saved me, he thought. He could never thank them enough for taking such good care of him for so long!
With a bound, Django landed loosely on the bed and lay down beside the patient. Diego stroked her head affectionately. Gradually, the torpor settled in again and he fell asleep again with the dog by his side. He was also a good nurse!
Three days had passed since Diego woke up and the progress was quite rapid. He stayed awake longer and felt his life force returning to him. Knowing that his family was on the way, he did not want to give the image of an invalid.
After many unsuccessful attempts, he managed to stand up on his own and walk from bed to chair, although every step was a real test. He managed to sit down, a little heavily, but it was a good sign. Getting up was harder, but he didn't give up. He repeated this exercise very often and made rapid progress.
Django followed him step by step, from bed to chair and back. He lay down at his feet when he was seated and stared at him as if to encourage him.
— Good dog, he exclaimed, stroking him. I would gladly take you with me if the monks agreed!
The next day, an unusual noise announced the arrival of his family. They had come by car as far as the monastery, but in this uninhabited region roads were scarce. They must have walked a long time before entering the last stage, a steep sloping path that only donkeys and humans could take.
Isabel was feverish. She had climbed the last few meters almost running, despite the heavy load she had carried since they had abandoned the car. Rodrigo and Salvador followed just behind, also very busy, and Matéo brought up the rear. He had traveled on horseback and, for the last part of the journey, he had continued on foot and weighted his horse with the rest of the luggage. He was now holding him by the bridle to help him up the slope with his load. The heat was overwhelming and the path more and more steep.
Getting to the monastery was in itself a test of renunciation for future monks!
Django spotted their progress early and announced their imminent arrival. His agitation had alerted the monks who came to meet Isabel and relieved Rodrigo of his baggage. The latter was no longer as nimble as before and this climb had left him breathless. He was in such a hurry to hug his son in his arms that he had walked too fast and felt bad.
That day Diego had stood up almost effortlessly. He was looking out of his bedroom window at the little figures at the bottom of the slope. His heart was racing and he preferred to sit down in the chair again to try to calm his anxiety.
After a long time, he heard the footsteps of Brother Constantine and he entered the room slowly.
— They've arrived, he said with a big smile, just a few more minutes and you can give them a hug. But be careful, take it easy, you are still weak. Brother Armando is going to tell them to spare you.
— Thank you, Brother Constantine, I am still sitting there waiting. No need to go around in circles and tire myself out.
— They came by car so that they could bring you back in a comfortable way and a person followed them on horseback.
At these words Diego was very surprised. He couldn't remember an automobile, but why not! It would be much more comfortable, as a means of transport, for his fragile body.
Constantine walked to the window and opened it to ventilate the room.
— What heat here, fresh air will do us good. Ah, there they are, I hear them coming. There is your father and your brother and Django following them. He jumped on your wife as if he had known her forever. It's funny is not it?
Diego's face turned as pale as a sheet and suddenly he sagged completely in his chair with a sigh. Constantine did not notice it.
The travelers, exhausted by the climb, stopped for a few moments in the common room to catch their breath. Taking advantage of this stopover, Brother Constantine had already extracted some details of their trip from them before joining Diego in his room.
Diego remained silent as Constantine continued to babble, describing the visitors' clothes, how their journey had gone and all sorts of trivia, imagining that this might reassure the convalescent.
Suddenly footsteps in the hallway. Diego felt his whole-body tensing. He had the feeling that a raging river was circling his head and his hands were on fire. Deliverance was near. The moment had arrived. He would finally be able to join his family, his place of residence, maybe his job even if he did not remember his job, his life would come back to him in an instant.
Stifled words reached him. It seemed to him that a person was being encouraged to come in, to walk past to enter the room first. Django was still lying on the bed next to Diego. At these noises, his ears were raised and he tilted his head from left to right, as if to better distinguish the words. Seeing this Diego smiled and relaxed a bit.
The door opened slowly to a feminine face, haloed in long golden hair that seemed to float. The sunset glow, which came from the wide-open window of the corridor, brought out the oval of the face, the beautiful blue eyes and shimmering, in transparency, the blond curls.
A sudden breeze twirled the hair, which took on changing reflections. An unreal, magical vision that made him lose what little concentration he had left.
Without a word, the woman walked slowly towards him. She was rather short, but her slim and harmonious figure and her light, vaporous dress made her shine in the light. She took his face in her hands and placed a kiss on his lips with a big smile.
Leaning over, her collar had released a mother-of-pearl medallion, the pattern of which caught her eye.
What an angel fallen from heaven, Diego thought, closing his eyes to still savor the taste of her lips on his. But who is she?
He had taken her hand, but it took only a moment for Isabel to realize that there was a problem. She had found it so hard to hold back her tears when she saw him that she did not understand why her so loving husband remained unmoved after his kiss.
She turned for the door for a moment as if she had heard words to hide her confusion.
Django, who seemed happy when he entered, was now staring at her with an almost sad expression. Slowly he got up on his two front paws and brought his head close to Isabel's and gave her a little lick on the tip of her nose. This had a saving effect that allowed him to recover a little. She tried to smile at the patient, covering him with a benevolent gaze. Without showing anything, she slowly got up and took a step back. His discomfort was bordering on bearable. She had to find a reason to get out in order to come to her senses.
— This room is very small. I'm going out to make room for your father who can't wait to see you again.
The patient gently nodded without a word and let go of his hand slowly, as if with regret. Django himself looked sad. He and lay down again, his nose between his paws, making a small, muffled sound.
Could it not be him? Despite this thinness and all the after-effects of the blows he must have received, I nevertheless really have the impression that it is Diego. My love, my life ... would I have lost you for good despite this miracle.
Don Rodrigo was not luckier. This bedridden man did not really look like his dear son and had no more reaction when he saw the old man enter. Yet he wanted to believe it. While explaining who he was, talking about their family, their life, the estate, their activities and projects, he scrutinized the features of the one he hoped to be his son.
At the request of Father Armando, concerned about the condition of his protégé, the interview ended and all the visitors were taken to the refectory for food. At the end of the meal, Armando led them to their rooms.
— You can stay a few days before you leave, Armando suggested to Don Rodrigo.
— A big thank you, my father. I admit that the trip as well as this interview shook me quite a bit.
— The comfort of our monks' cells is spartan but we have arranged the place a little more comfortably with the help of the villagers in anticipation of your coming.
Armando took Don Rodrigo by the arm to lead him a little aside to speak to him in private.
— I hope that seeing you for the next few days will revive the memories of our protégé.
— I hope so, Rodrigo whispered sadly.
— May I ask you THE QUESTION?
— Of course, you are entitled to know after all that you have done for him.
— You know, interrupted Armando, we have dedicated our lives to the love of God and that of our neighbor. This is the meaning of our existence in this world.
— I can't thank you enough for saving my son. Even in this state and without birthmark or the like, I have indeed no doubts. This tired and emaciated man is really my Diego.
— Hallelujah, Armando said. I am so happy for you and for your family. You know, memory is an enigma. A small detail can tear the veil and everything will come back to him in one fell swoop. In any case, that's what I hope.
— I think so too my father, I remain confident. It seems to me impossible that the memory does not return to him when we return to the places of his childhood and in the presence of the rest of the family.
Isabel's cell was a little out of the way. The monastery did not accommodate nuns and the presence of a woman was a little contrary to the principles of the place. However, the situation was very special which implied this exception to the rules of life.
The fatigue of the journey, coupled with the intense disappointment at the end of her interview with the injured man, had overcome Isabel's strength. She collapsed on the tiny bed and almost immediately fell into a tormented sleep.
After an hour, she was awakened by someone knocking on her door.
— Good evening, Doña Isabel. My name is Calista and I am the maid of the village inn. Brother Armando asked me to come and serve you during your stay.
The young woman was still quite asleep and was clinging to the door so as not to fall.
— Good evening, Calista, thank you. I really need help tonight after all these emotions.
— Sit down Doña Isabel, I will help you so that you have a good night, answered the young girl gently. There are no baths here but I have brought something to refresh you and get rid of the dust from the road.
Isabel obediently obeyed and Calista complied in silence, aware of the shock the young wife must have felt. Scraps had leaked and the whole village followed with interest the outcome of the confrontation with the patient's family. Indeed, his discovery and the violence he had suffered had left no one indifferent. The population wished a happy ending to this sad story but for the moment, nothing was certain.
As the young maid took care of her and thanks to the well-being that it gave her, Isabel had the impression of regaining a little strength. She thought about Diego, their life, their happiness, their children.
It cannot end like this!
His mind a little rested, analyzed the situation, trying to consider the options and all the possible outcomes.
It is impossible that he did not recognize me.
So, it can't be Diego! So why do I have this lump in my stomach?
At the same time, I can't be sure just seeing him. He has so many scars ...
He took my hand and I felt like he reluctantly let go. Why would a stranger do that?
Think about his gaze. He never took his eyes off you.
Oh yes! At one point he stared at the pendant. Remember his expression. Did he seem to recognize him? Yes, maybe, anyway, he was going back and forth between my face and the pendant.
It's a sign, isn't it?
Either he thought it was pretty, or he likes horses and you get ideas.
No, it is not possible, it is his gaze despite the drooping eyelids, this steel blue that pierces you and has always seduced you. It's him! My Diego, returned from hell and completely devastated by past suffering.
HOW DID I DOUBT?
Reassured by this revelation, the young woman was impatient to see him again and take him in her arms. She would do anything to allow him to overcome this ordeal and return to a normal life surrounded by his family.
They would go home as soon as possible and try to pick up where it all left off with patience and love.
Yes, we will go home and everything will go back to how it was before. Maybe even better. I will do anything for that!
Isabel was now sure that this period would only become a bad parenthesis in their existence.
After the pain, a bright light opened before them with a life for two, which she hoped long and full of the happiness to see their children grow up, surrounded by their two parents and their family.
* * * END OF FIRST VOLUME * * *