Santiago

In the still of the night Santiagoís crying cut sharply like a knife. His
crying was relentless, as though it would never end but then, a child of three
knows no other way to express his horror. Abraham Naser walked down the narrow
street made of hardened earth and nothing more. His dress was pure class, white
blazer and pants with matching wide brimmed hat. Lost in thought he rolled his
cigar between his lips, then, as if in a motion as natural to him as his
tendency to smile at beautiful women, he adjusted his gun stuffed tightly in the
back of his waist bond. It was then when Abraham ran into the women he knew
would change his life; the women who would be his wife Arabic coffee tasted for
the first tome is surpassing and strong, but soon, it turns soothing and sweet.

Placida Lineroís head snapped back at her first taste, and they both laughed.

Their eyes spore of there long future from across the small round table. The cafй
had been Abrahamís idea, but it was now Placida who didnít want the moment
to end, ever. Walking down the isle had been Placida dream since she was a
little girl. In Spain girls are brought up to make mariace a priority. For

Abraham, on the other hand, an Arab male of wealth turn of the century Spain,
life had always meant just the opposite. A man of festivities, of party and
celebration, Abraham loved his boos, cigars, and women. And not necessary in
that order. He felt and, not a beginning to his life. Placida was a spark of
light, beauty able to contain her joy news spilled like a flood. Abraham finds
he is happier than he had ever been, but battle with the confession of his
changing life. In his excitement, Abraham rushed out to the baby store. There, a
beautiful radon haired young women, eyes blue then the sea, assists him in
selecting a crib of finished wood and white lace. The celebration that night
will be remembered for all time. The drinking, the smoking, the guilt, the
self-loathing and the broken promise. He could not explain even to himself how
another chance meetingѕwith the young women from the baby storeѕ now
stood to destroy his life. How could he have been so foolish he asked himself?

How? In the nine months before Santiago was born, Abraham, could not come to
understand his motivation for braeing his marriage promise again and again.

Perhaps he was just self destructive, maybe his problem was psychological, or
maybe, he was just bad person. The guilt drove him and his confusion grew at the
same rate that the finishing in the babyís room did. A comment from Placida
had brought if all crashing down inside his head. Her joking voice " you are
the same old Abraham." What did you do, marry the owners daughter. Where have
all these things come from?" His blood had run cold, and he felt himself
perspire, but the moment passed. The night Santiago came two were born; son and
father. Before he could reclaim his word, his admission that was more like a
confession, jumped from his mouth. Over his son he cried for forgiveness from a
women whose face was a slate of emotion. "I have known." She exclaims
reaching and touching his cheek. Stunned." How? " He stuttered " for how
long?" " Long enough." " Iíll never ever see her again. Never. I
promise," he begged. " I know, I know," she seemed to dismiss " just
look at our son. Isnít he beautiful" At three years old eating an ice cream
without weaning most of it is not only a challenge, itís a fantasy. The hot
sun made all of their smile gimer, the park was crowed, but to the three of them

Abraham, Placida and Santiago not another soul exited on the face of the earth.

They walked over the little bridles of white woods, holding hands in a chain of
love. A family, a family with the sound of the last shot. Still ringing in his
ears, Santiago crys in horror. From the foot of the bed Placida rocks Santiago
in her arms as his father and his lover lay dying in the bed solid silk. "

Ssshh, ssshh. I know I know."