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Bringing my undivided attention to the fore, Josefa intended for us to take an elevator on our way up, but planned on taking the stairs on our way down. She informed us that the bright glaring lights had to be shut off at a certain time. Construction lights were left on all throughout the evening, and that was why she spared us flashlights before entering The Nativity tower.
Juan seemed complacent as he gently placed a hand behind my back, guiding me through.
With scant lighting, it took a while until my eyes adjusted when we entered a dimly lit corridor. The elevator, thank goodness, had proper lighting. The ride was smooth, taking us to the top.
The top view of the tower gave the east view of the city. While I lavished on the view and the surroundings, Josefa tranquilly provided the history. All the while, I could feel Juan behind me like a quiet, steady force, ready to aid me.
I seemed to have some magnetic field that could detect him whenever he was close by. My body would immediately tense, detecting him before my eyes ever did … just like how I’d normally respond to River’s presence.
I disregarded my body’s shameless ability to track him. Blocking it, my ears peeled for Josefa’s soft notes, informing us of the history of Gaudi’s background and unwavering commitment to the Roman Catholic Church.
My eyes took in the sight, the history of this ancient city, and the charming beauty it held. There was darkness to it, too. It gave an edge of mystery. Stories of untold sacrifices marked this city. It knew death and what lied beneath it. Wars upon wars had raged on these streets. Centuries of bloodshed from the Aragons to years of civil unrest. Innocent blood had dripped and ran through these lands. Brave warriors, farmers, merchants, plain young men had banded together to fight for their right of freedom and their free will. And to this day, in people’s hearts, it remained. Barcelona would always be Catalonia.
There was a hint of pride in Josefa’s tone, one that moved me to no end. We stayed a while, all three of us transported back in time, in complete silence, lost in our thoughts.
I liked Josefa. She reminded me of a librarian, soft spoken with quiet intelligent eyes, but armed with enough knowledge that could humiliate you without even trying. She was my kind of person. I smiled at her when our eyes crossed paths, hoping she understood how much I appreciated her coming out here.
Descending from the tower, we took the steep steps as I trailed closely behind Juan. Due to my current shoe crisis, Juan offered to carry me down the steps. I wouldn’t let him do such a crazy thing. Like a true gentleman, he held my hand and made sure I wasn’t about to trip on my face since I had almost skipped a step before he had offered to carry me down.
Yes, it was troubling me that we were holding hands, but it was for my safety. Surely that didn’t count for anything?
It felt like forever and a day until we finally reached the ground floor. Josefa offered to give us a quick tour of the church, which wasn’t part of the plan, but we had to decline. It was already past midnight, and Juan’s friends had been incessantly calling him, though the man hadn’t taken a call because that entailed letting my hand go.
After graciously thanking and parting ways with Josefa, I saw Juan pull several two hundred euro notes and thanked her again. She was ready to decline, but he shoved it in her hand and began to wave away from her, catching up to me.
“That was nice of you.” We were slowly strolling back to his parked car.
Juan shrugged. “That’s nothing. Josefa was great. I hoped you liked it, though. I wasn’t sure if you would.”
“I’m not sure how you managed to do that, but I thank you from the bottom of my heart.”
His beaming smile never ceased to blind me. “I’m glad. But before we go to my friend’s party, we have to stop somewhere first.”
Ten minutes later, we arrived at a park. There were knee-high bushes, a gazebo, and flowers everywhere. There were about thirty people or so gathered around two guys playing guitars. It had that baroque sound, a distinct colloquial fusion. It evoked unspoken ghosts of my soul, of my past that I had no idea existed.
The somber melancholic notes delved straight to your soul. It was like a rich dark chocolate, decadent and smooth, a treat to savor slowly with each bite..
Standing next to Juan, I could feel him closely watching my face. But I was lost. I could feel the back of my eyes prickle from unshed tears. But I couldn’t move, enslaved by the tune that strained the very fiber of my soul. It did things to me. Things I couldn’t properly describe. It was as if the music kissed a part of me I had thought was long gone, buried deep in the back trenches of my mind. But here it was, resurfacing once again, melting my resolve while I was transported back to my first memory of strangers discussing my future, to the very first home I had been placed in, the first time I had been struck by my foster father’s heavy callused hand, and the first time I had broken a rib after being pushed down the stairs. All the horrid past unearthed, marking me once more, holding me hostage.
Suspended in time, I stood there, bearing the harrowing gift it had given me, up until the last note was strung.
While the rest of the crowd stood and applauded, I stared, ramrod straight, still lost in my own painful oblivion.
I was torn.
Shredded to my very core.
Stripped bare, unguarded from the past.
Just when you believed that nothing could evoke such rooted emotions, that was when it would prove you wrong.
My eyes burned, my heart panged with immense ache, and my soul yearned for something to sooth it. Here I was, in the middle of a park at midnight, surrounded with strangers, shaken and unsure with myself. Why, of all nights, did it choose to resurface tonight?
“Cariña?” Juan softly asked as he pulled me close.
I couldn’t see him. The only thing I saw were the callous flashes of my past. I could easily detect worry in his tone.
“Cara, I’m going to kiss you just to bring you back to earth,” he gently threatened. It wasn’t an empty one, either.
