A Miracle

Pilar bit her lower lip. Her immaculate smile was extinguished like a flame of an oil lamp.

“I love you,” she gasped and the warmth left her hand. Her head fell back.

Max’s throat relaxed a little. A ray of light ignited a bead of sweat on her upper lip. He instinctively turned towards the source of the orange light. On the horizon, the sun shone through a crack in the overcast sky, lead versus gold. The sun seemed overpowered. It plunged into the ocean, its lower half dissolved in a pool of red, yielding to the dark purple until it vanished.

A hiss pierced the heavy air. Max felt a prick between his shoulder blades. Pilar’s eyes were closed now. A red bud appeared on his chest unfolding its leaves ever so fast. He fell into the darkness.

* * *

“You got yourself a deal,” boomed Max and slapped the thick oak table with the palm of his hand. Max was a man of habits. He liked to reinforce bargains with a resolute thud. Roberto was amused at indentations made by Max’s ring scattered all over the table. Roberto thought of archaeologists wondering what made those indents. He felt his ring with his thumb as if to remind himself of the promises he made so many years ago. The familiar shape annoyed him.

“Pilar, darling, is there any more wine left?” Max shouted through the door towards the kitchen, his hands on the hips now. His neatly trimmed nails had small traces of dirt.

Roberto pictured Max in his vineyard crumbling the soil, smelling it, doting upon the ancient vines. Max’s wine was excellent. Each year he produced one hundred bottles of Pinot and each year a river of wine-lovers went on a pilgrimage to his hacienda high in the Pyrenees.

Roberto bought one bottle each year. And each year, he sat with Max for hours behind the same oak table admiring the wine. This year something was different.

“Yes, I got married secretly.” Max cleared the throat but he could not disguise the tenderness. “She is a miracle, Roberto. I have never been so happy.”

A soft jingle poured through the kitchen door. As Roberto raised his eyes, the sun shone through the window. She stepped through the light into the dark cave where the two men sat. 

“Roberto, meet my wife, Pilar. Pilar, this is my old friend and brother-in-law, Roberto. He is old money, darling.” Max’s face was ecstatic.

“Yes,” thought Roberto, “A miracle.” The recollection hit him like a bulldozer. “Rosa.”

 “You didn’t bring your glass, darling,” piped Max. “You just sit and relax. I’ll get it for you.” He jumped up and dashed towards the kitchen.   

Pilar plopped herself onto Max’s chair. Her gaze drifted towards plump grapes. She chose the biggest one.

Roberto jumped up as if he saw a snake. “I thought you were in Argentina,” he stuttered. He tried to steady his shaking hands. “Why are you here? You promised to stay away.”

“Still shaking, huh? Relax, I am not gonna expose you. I don’t know you.”

“People might start making connections and talk, you shouldn’t be here.” Roberto’s voice was now trembling.

“Talk about what?” Max came back with another glass and a crossbow. “This is my favourite toy,” he exclaimed. “Great for hunting.”

“Oh, we are just saying that people talk about lots of stuff,” Pilar laughed.

“For some reason I got the idea that you two know each other. You looked quite intense whispering. Were you lovers?”

“Always joking,” laughed Pilar. “Yes, it was a wild love.”

“Congratulations on your marriage. You have a beautiful wife, Max. ” Roberto looked at his watch and stood up. “I am afraid I must leave.”

“What’s the rush, my friend? You have no wife, enjoy yourself a little. How is your hand?” max was no longer smiling.

“What are you saying, Max?” Pilar’s eyes were full of fear.

* * *

Roberto was sitting at a café in Salamanca glancing at his watch. He got her name from one of his shady friends. He watched people leisurely strolling up and down the boulevard. He saw her when she turned the corner, her hair cascading over her shoulders.

“Can I see her picture?” she asked.

Roberto slid the picture over to her. Tremor took over his hand. “Make sure it looks like an accident. Her brother is a police inspector and a friend of mine.”

Pilar cleared her throat. “She is beautiful. It will be done in two days. Will see you here on Thursday at the same time. Bring the money.”

“How much will you pay her?” asked the man sitting at the next table.

“Enough to bring us some peace of mind,” replied Roberto. “Keep an eye on her. Make sure she doesn't know you are following her.”

* * *

 “I knew Roberto had her killed, just couldn’t prove it. You forgot one thing, Roberto. I would do anything to find Rosa’s murderer.” Max seemed to be enjoying himself. “I know what she did to you.”

“You don’t know anything,” snapped Roberto.

“Max, darling, I have no idea what you’re talking about,” wailed Pilar.

“But that doesn’t seem so much of a crime now that I know what you submitted her to,” continued Max.

“Prostitution, the oldest trade. Tell me, Roberto, how did you get the money for this wine bottle, huh? How much did she make in one night? She should have stabbed you into the heart like I told her to do. But no, she loved you. ”

Roberto squeezed his fingers into a fist. “You are out of your mind,” he roared.

Max pointed his cross bow at him. “This ends right here.” He tied them to a chair facing each other. He shot Pilar first. She didn’t matter, her love didn’t matter.

“Tell me, Roberto, did she threaten to reveal your dirty secret? What did she do?”

“I found this.” Roberto nudged toward his breast pocket. “If I don’t show up at my house by tomorrow, a copy of this goes to the press. You will be ruined.”

Max pulled a crumpled letter out of the pocket. “That’s a lie, her first husband is dead.” He turned at the sound of the approaching steps. The light enveloped him just as the arrow pierced his heart. He looked at his chest and fell to the ground.

“A glass of wine and some peace of mind?” asked the stranger as he poured himself some wine. “Truly exceptional.”