BLACK SUNS-FIRST CHAPTER

 

 

“Who will be able to explain that the defender is ofensive, the sentinels are sleeping, the trust is stealing from us and that which is watching over you is killing you“

                         

                              The colloquium of the dogs. Miguel de Cervantes.

 

 

 

1. SUNSTROKE

 

     -This land bear bad fruits. 

     Celedonio keeps his eyes focus on a pile of soil recently removed, in that arid and uncultivated farm at the border of a holm-oak wood. A small and delicate hand is sticking out among the dry, brown and reddish lamps of soil, blended with rotten leaves, twigs, stones, and clumps of brown hair. Arturo was also staring quietly through his sunglases, but in a huge, black and brilliant slug that was slidering a few centimeters to the left of the hand. A few meters away, a Civil Guard on his knees was vomiting while his companion was holding his shoulders. The monotonous buzzing of insects surrounding them, was suddenly broken by the far away sound of a hunter,s shot. The heat was causing the air to tremble, foreheads were shinny with sweat, their clothes were sticking and stiffling against their bodies. The fields of Extremadura were consummed by a slow fever. Arturo with two fingers pushed up his cup and turn toward Celedonio, mayor of the nearby village, with an anvil shaped head, a huge belly and a large lump potruding from his neck.     

     -When are you saying she was discovered?

     -It was in the morning, by Faustino, one the Dukes,s pig farmers. The dog began barking at the pigs that were gathered there and when the farmer aproached, he found what you now see. The pigs were uncovering her.

     Arturo squeeze his jaw congested by the heat and took off his jacket, wipping his prow with his hand to prevent the swep from going into his eyes. There was so much light it seem as if there was a second sun shining harshly. He approached the little hand and squashed with the toe of his boot the slug that was almost grazing her; he did this with a slow, twisting motion, cleaning the boot on the stones. Afterwords, he folded meticulously his jacket, laid it on the ground, took off his glases, put them in his pocket, squatted next to the body and studied the scene. He stared somberly, quietly and without moving. The buzzing of the flies reclaiming the death, legions of ants marching to the corpse. He got down on his knees and began to remove fistfull of dirt until the face and the body emerged. She was only covered by a nightgown, showing bruces all over her corpse, not to be confused with the bites of the pigs. There was an olive color film over her eyes, the soft lines of her face, her smooth and slim body. He doesn´t smell anything, the flesh was still firm; it was evidence that she had not been there long. Arturo was swating flies with an impatience gesture. Though the hoofs of the drift had been transform the property in an indescipherable mess, he registered bit by bit, walking, on his knees, crawling.

    During his search, the civil guard, pale and sweaty, was being carry by his comrade to an area of shade, sitting him against a tree. The mayor also moved to the shade. Arturo return to further investigate the girl. At last, the only thing that didnt make sense were the thorns in her fingertips. And in her hair, white particles. He pulled out a notebook, torn out a sheed of paper, folded it, and began collecting the particles one by one, and then folding hermetically. He stood up, put his hand on the nape of his neck, wich was burned by the sun. His forehead began to pulse painfully; picked up his jacket and move back to the shade where the civil guards were. They were passing around the canteen of water; the civil guard, who had been vomiting, had his head drenched in water and the collar of his uniform as well.

     -Can you give me some water?, Arturo asked.

     -Of course, here take it.

     They gave the canteen to him and he refreshed his face and neck and then he took a couple of generous gulps. He screwed on the cap and handed it back. The mayor joined them and dried his face with a handkerchief.

     -Are you feeling better? -Arturo asked the one who vomited.

     -I feel better -the civil guard answered making a face.

     -This heat… -Arturo groaned- and this shitty flies… -striking the air with his hand- why are there so many dawn flies…

     -The sweltering heat is dangerous, and makes the peoples nervous -the corporal said-, there are quorrels about footing… We have a lot of work. A week ago a neighbour came upon his wife with another and shot her. Nothing more.

     -How many time did he shoot?

     The question caught the guard by surprise.

      -He empty the chamber. 

      -So he loved her very much -Arturo sentenced him-. Back to business, ¿did you notifies the judge?

      -Yes, he´s coming with the priest.     

      -And what about the photographer?

      -He has a hangover, they are resurrecting him.

      Arturo took a look at the civil guard who was adjusting his ammunition belt and trying to put on his hat.

      -Were there any report of disappearences?

      -Respecting children, no.

      -Then, what about?

      -Reportings of herds of cattle, husbands who went to buy tobacco, but not about children.

      Arturo made an ironic gesture and nodded.

      -And who is the owner of that field?

      -That is the duke,s property -the mayor answered again.

      -What´s his name?

      -Manuel Alfonso Pío Judas Ramón Cabrera y Flores de Lizaur.

      -All right.

    The Arturo´s silence was a scrutinizing. He took a look at the corporal, he had one of those beards that there was in need of two shaves per day and had a rigorous seriousness.

     -Do you have any suspect that is capable to do something like this?

     -I have the usual suspects, but capable of doing this, I dont see it.

    -Then I want you to jail any beggar or unknown men who was in the area during the last three days. 

     -What would be the reason for arresting them?

     -For breathing, in not enough?

     -This mess was cause by the comunist -Celedonido said outraged.

     -No -Arturo contradicted-, this is about motherfuckers.

     The mayor turned red and remain silence. Arturo returned his atention back to the victim; why, why do I never get used to death?, it happened all the time, is like being borned, it´s ordinary, it´s miracolous, youre here and then suddenly youre not. Or perhaps it is especially this death, a child who would not experience life in all its complexitys, setbacks, rage, bewilderment. A drop of swept flowed from his temple to the cheek, and ended behind the ear. Flies came to him and Arturo violently struck at.

     -This is incredible.

     -The heat makes the flies crazy, as the people -the corporal pointed out.

  Arturo dodge the coment and continue considering the scene with indifference. Those who are responsible for the slaughtering of this girl, probably did it in another place, and made the effort to bring her here. This situation does not provide answers, but raises concerns. A vehicle, the night, those lonely roads, two sparks of light atracting all the sights of the province, it implied a risk, a need, or the security that they wont be arrested. Those drops of blood on her fingertips. And the milky particles.

     Signs.

     Paces.

     -Where are they going to take the body? -he did not concretly ask anyone.

     -They have a freezer in Cáceres -the mayor answered.

     -And the judge comes from there?

     -Yes.

     -And the doctor?

     -He´s coming from here, from the village.

    Far away was the sound of a car backfiring, acompannied by a dark and thin smoke. Arturo put his hands on his hips, and watched the brokendown vehicle dragging a tale of dust. 

     -Somebody stop it.  

    The corporal, after seeing that his companion was not better, he put his rifle on his shoulder and run through the field. He sttoped the car, a priest and two others got out, they spoked with the civil guard before following him to the woods. The mayor introduced everyone; Arturo was presented as captain Arturo Andrade, and he adviced the priest that, for now, he must give last rites from a distance, and he was accompanied by the doctor and the photographer. The latter, a slim gay, white as cheese, he was swepting out all the alcohol that he had been drinking. They begun to work as Arturo was giving intructions and resolving issues; when they could fly alone, he step aside with the corporal. Their shadows were elongated by the sun.

      -Your name is Salvador?

      -Yes, my captain.

      -Do you know why I asked to stop the car?

      -In order to not mess up the area.

     -Right, Salvador, you´re smarter that I thought. Now you´re going to show me how clever you,re: is there a mechanic in the village?

      -And a good one, Fulgencio.

      -Right. You´re going to bring him to me, you´re going to explain to him this mess, and he must take a look at the tyres track. Let´s see what he concludes.

       -As you command.

       -I also want to speak with the pigfarmer.

       -That is no problem.

     -And… -Arturo observed the smoking mirages that the soil was exhaled- where can I find the duke?

     -At his property in Las Recias. If he´s not there, he used to hunt in San Pedro´s mountains.

       Arturo notted.

       -Yes. And one more thing, Salvador.

       -Tell me.

     -You know that the thing done to this poor girl, heaven won´t speak, the fields won´t speak, the flies won´t speak, and God won´t take stand.

     The civil guard notted without a word, circumspectingly. 

      -But for this type of work that´s why we´re here, right?

      -Right.

      -Really what I want to know is if you´re going to join me.

      Salvador harden his jaw.

      -I am with you.

       -I am happy… very happy. And now, see the girl -pointing to the girl.

      The civil guard took a look at the girl and then turned back to Arturo.

     -Look again -he said with a big smile.

      Salvador looked, and when he begun to turn his face away, Arturo sttoped him.

     -No, keep looking, take a good look -his face became petrified-. Don´t stop looking for the rest of your life.