A Coffee to the Past Read online

  A few tears escaped his eyes as soon as he was inside the room where some strange wooden machines were kept.

  He did not want analyze them. Sooner or later he would know them and what purpose each of them served.

  He erupted into tears like a terrified little boy.

  The guards who carried him by the arms shoved him with a laugh.

  He fell to his knees on the damp dirt floor.

  The room in general stank like the cells.

  He did not want to think about the fluids that escaped the tortured when they could no longer endure the pain inflicted by those beasts.

  Yes, they were beasts.

  Juan Carlos could not understand why they were mistreating human being like that. As a heretic, a traitor or a thief, he was better off being killed than enduring the hell he was now going to suffer.

  His stomach twitched. It was the first time he regurgitated what little he had eaten.

  One of the guards let out a mocking laugh.

  “Surely he’ll shit as soon as we put him on the rack.”

  The other guard laughed, as if it were a joke, and Juan Carlos trembled at the comment.

  The door opened again and Juan Carlos already knew the men.

  The Inquisitors, the clerk and one he had not seen before, but immediately assumed who it was.

  The executioner.

  Damn his luck!

  He disintegrated into tears and the men laughed at him.

  The clerk sat behind a table that allowed him to see the whole room. He would observe each of Juan Carlos' gestures to write them down in his notebook.

  He was in charge of taking notes of everything the defendant said. The macabre records that man had, could break the fortitude of any human being. Well, of any human being with feelings because it was clear, very clear, that these men no longer had any feelings. Only people like them were able to endure such work and enjoy it.

  Juan Carlos was violently lifted from the floor; his hands were released only to be retied. They moved him to a place in the room where only a rope hung from the high ceiling.

  “Let's start with the pulley,” the executioner said with an ironic smile. “The quicker you confess, the quicker you go to the bonfire and the less pain you will feel.”

  “I have nothing to confess,” Juan Carlos answered quickly, and looked directly at the Inquisitor. “I swear, sir. Please, I beg you. I'm innocent.”

  His voice was breaking.

  The Inquisitor was like a statue. He only nodded for the executioner to continue his work.

  The guards lowered the rope that went through the pulley and placed the hook at the end, inside the ropes Juan Carlos wore on his wrists.

  They tugged his shoulders slightly as the executioner secured the rope and his arms lifted a little.

  His legs shook.

  “Then,” said the executioner, “at the count of three, we begin. One,” he shook the rope again. “Two,” the man, pulled so tightly on the rope that Juan Carlos was suspended while he felt his shoulder bones creak causing him immense pain.

  The worst happened a few seconds later, when the executioner spoke again.

  “Three,” he said and released the rope abruptly, causing Juan Carlos to stumble. Just before he hit the floor, the executioner grabbed the rope tightly dislocating his tortured shoulders.

  Juan Carlos gave his first terrifying cry. A cold sweat covered his body and the pain was cutting his breath.

  He felt hot liquid run down his legs.

  His urine escaped uncontrollably, while his entire body trembled from the pain.

  He began to cry again.

  “I'm... in... innocent. I SWEAR!” He shouted, and the Inquisitor waved his hand and ordered them to start over.

  Juan Carlos was lowered from the pulley and the guards, simultaneously and without warning, reset Juan Carlos’ dislocated shoulders and once again they raised him with the pulley and repeated the previous process.

  When Juan Carlos was elevated for the second time, he closed his eyes and prayed that some divine power would grant him death immediately.

  However, from the depths of his soul he knew that death would never come for him.

  ***

  It was several days after Juan Carlos lived through his first of many tortures that awaited him.

  He was sitting in his cell with his arms bound by slings. The doctor assured him that in a few days, the shoulder bones would be fine.

  In fact, he said that they would be ready to endure the next punishments.

  Juan Carlos shuddered at the thought.

  He could not lie down with his arms immobilized because he couldn’t get up without assistance. He knew no one would help him.

  The guards threw the food at him, and though he tried, he never managed to reach his mouth with his feet, so he had to get on his knees and put his mouth on the floor to eat like an animal.

  He had not thought about his brother for a long time, and that night when he remembered Francisco's face he prayed that his brother was not in the same situation.

  He did not want his poor little brother to suffer, to be in so much pain wouldn’t be fair. He was willing to sacrifice himself for his brother, without hesitation. The fact was he didn’t know Francisco’s situation. He tried to get information from one of the guards but that attempt failed and for a long time, he was isolated in a cell. He did not have the opportunity to talk to other prisoners.

  Many times he felt like cursing his mother. Everything he was living through was her fault. Then he would feel a pang in his heart because he knew his mother didn’t do it out of spite.

  She was a mother desperate to save her children and allow them to live their lives to the fullest. He had this powerful tool in his hands, but he was captured and now he couldn’t use it.

  For the first time in several years, his mind betrayed him. It replayed the beautiful memories of his beloved Cecilia.

  Cecilia and the little one she carried in her womb.

  He forced himself to stop thinking about them some time after they both died the night she gave birth to their son.

  It was a very powerful loss for Juan Carlos. He was in love with Cecilia. She was a good woman and a lover like few in those days. They belonged in the same social class but she possessed an elegant beauty that made her look as refined as a royal woman.

  He remembered her walking along the streets with her mother. She moved with extreme elegance and always managed to make eye contact with Juan Carlos. In those public moments she gave him discreet, knowing looks.

  They married and lived in the home of Juan Carlos' parents. Shortly after, Cecilia got pregnant. The entire family celebrated.

  A serene pregnancy for nine full moons.

  On the night of the birth, something was not right with Cecilia. As the hours passed, her skin became paler and her breathing grew slower and slower until she stopped breathing completely. Her heart stopped beating and the baby stopped moving inside her.

  Not even Rocio’s herbs could save Cecilia's life.

  Juan Carlos snorted at the irony of it all.

  It was the worst night of his life. There was no comparison to the pain, not even with the pain those beasts produced by torturing him.

  He imagined how different things would have been if they had lived.

  Perhaps, his mother would not have bothered to give them that absurd eternal life potion.

  His reality was different.

  The door to his cell opened, and his breath began to falter as the guards and the executioner walked towards him.

  ***

  A couple of weeks after Juan Carlos’ appearance on the Alcalá estate, his life had improved one hundred percent.

  He became optimistic.

  He learned something different every day of his new life. Everyone told him that life was about learning and every one learned new things every day, but no one understood exactly how he felt.

  For him, everything was new.

 
That afternoon, the first time he stepped in Valencia, the whole family took him to buy new clothes and shoes. He felt like he was hallucinating.

  Those towers once were the city’s gates he longed for, remained standing. They were full of history, of charm. He remembered when he accompanied his father once, before the city’s gates were sealed due to the plague; to where the soldiers of the court was staked, ready to defend their city and the king.

  How things had changed since then.

  For the first time since he woke up, he remembered his brother, and as with every time, he hoped that his fate would have been very different from the one he was assigned to.

  As the days went on, Juan Carlos became increasingly familiar with the 21st century. Everyone at home was instructing him on the new social norms, such as when he spent a day and a half without bathing. Isabel taught him in today’s time you won’t die if you bathe. Which was magnificent for Juan because he loved the device that let the water fall out of the wall and he felt renewed every time he took a shower.

  Just like washing clothes. Carlota taught him how to use the washing machine. When he discovered the refrigerator... Ah! What a most wonderful invention! He thought about the moment he was shown how it worked.

  The same thing happened when they decided they should take him to the tooth doctor. They explained today every doctor specializes in a specific thing. They would avoid taking him to do any types of tests that could revealed his immortality or something abnormal that would make the doctors want to investigate.

  They agreed to skip those, but the one of the teeth no because, well, Juan’s teeth were in quite bad condition compared to theirs and he was missing several.

  Edward warned him that the visit would not be pleasant and what they would do could seem frightening.

  He could not say he was not startled every time the doctor turned on the machine that made a deafening noise and could not say the experience was pleasant, but he was happy to know that Edward had not the slightest idea of what could be really scary in life.

  After they open your skin with lashes and dislocate your arms over and over and over, they mark you with red hot irons and burn you in a bonfire; the visit to the doctor of the teeth seemed like a visit to that great place called Disneyworld. He had not gone yet, but his guardian angel showed him photos and told him it was a magical place, fun and special for children.

  They were very different times from his own, and he laughed when he heard the women in the house say they did not have time to do everything in one day. How was that possible if they had so many machines that did half the work?

  When I analyzed it thoroughly, I realized that today, women had other aspirations in life. In their time, they aspired to get a good husband, to have many children and to take care of the house. He studied Isabel the theme of female emancipation. It took him a few days to adjust to that idea because it seemed inconceivable to him that women worked outside of the house. That was the men’s occupation, that’s what he was taught. He advised himself that he must adapt to what he saw and learned from these new times.

  He would live eternity in freedom and would, whether he liked it or not, accept technological, scientific and human advances. He had to join the new world. It was his second chance and he was not going to waste it.

  Carlota and Edward taught him the new letters. They gave him books they called 'classics of world literature' to read. Most of the day and night he could be found reading. Carlota bought him books. He loved what he discovered in the words. There was so much information to store in his head.

  It did not take him long to read fluently, although writing did not suit him so well. Carlota said that he should practice more to improve his handwriting and Isabel assured him nothing could improve those scribbles.

  He smiled when he thought about Isabel.

  She was a lovely woman. Too bad she hid a great sadness inside. He knew that it was due to an unrequited love and it made him furious to know she suffered. She was good. She deserved a man to make her happy.

  Like Carlota, who had Edward and every time those two were together, they spread their joy to everyone.

  He managed to maintain a daily routine liked. Every day, he would get up at dawn, take a shower, and then go out to the field to work a little. He kept busy until he began to notice movement in the estate’s kitchen. Then he would come back and help with breakfast and house cleaning. Afterward, he left with Edward, who was fascinated with his knowledge about farming. Sometimes they met with Alfonso, who also enjoyed his knowledge.

  It made him feel useful because he thought he would become a nuisance at some point. They knew everything. They had everything and Juan Carlos sometimes felt like he couldn’t contribute anything. Although his guardian angel believed all the information he carried with him about the century in which he lived was worth more than all the gold in the world to her.

  Of course, it seemed a rather exaggerated thought to him.

  As part of her daily routine, there was what Isabel called 'the afternoon ritual' which was to ingest a good cup of coffee —which he liked so much— while Carlota and she listened to him talk about his past and his terrible experience at the hands of the inquisitors.

  Edward avoided this kind of talk because he said he did not want to hear the injustices Juan Carlos suffered.

  He was quite wise.

  Isabel often rose with red eyes and was not seen again until dinner time.

  Carlota claimed that she did not have the stomach to listen to the things he told her. Carlota was the only one who seemed to be reinforced with steel and endure any kind of stories he told her. Not only did she tolerate it, but she also inquired in the depths of the immortal's mind by asking questions that were very painful for him.

  Maybe because it reminded him of everything he had experienced.

  That afternoon everyone was there. The little girl played in the garden with her nanny.

  Carlota had not asked any questions after hearing the details of the first tortures Juan Carlos suffered.

  Carlota wrote non-stop on her computer.

  Juan Carlos watched her with fascination. He wanted to learn how to use that device, and what they called a cell phone. A couple of times he used it to talk to Edward in the afternoons when he was in the field because Juan was to stay and inform Carlota.

  He noticed Isabel too. She had been acting strange for a couple of days. She was quiet and hadn’t made any ironic jokes. He knew she was submerged in her thoughts and distracted because she remained in the same position throughout his story.

  Her gaze was lost in the distance.

  “Are you okay?” He asked quietly as he placed a hand on hers.

  The woman blinked a couple of times and smiled reluctantly.

  “Yes. Thank you.”

  “Do you want to go for a walk in the city?”

  “I do not feel like driving, Juan.”

  “You can go by bus,” Carlota interrupted, looking at them curiously.

  “That’s it.” Juan Carlos took advantage of his guardian angel's proposal. “Come on, you still haven’t shown me what a bus trip is like.”

  He wanted to see Isabel smile. Her smile brightened his day.

  She rolled her eyes.

  “I'll get dressed.”

  Juan Carlos did not understand this comment. He found it difficult to understand many things related to today’s women.

  She was dressed. Why would she change her clothes?

  “Will you change your clothes? Should I do it too?” He looked at the oldest Alcalá with confusion.

  “I'm going to put my make-up on, Juan Carlos. It is unthinkable to go out without it,” continued Isabel, ignoring the immortal's question.

  “Unthinkable? For whom, Isabel?” Carlota asked her seriously.

  Isabel glared at her and then, Juan Carlos understood the lesson he received a few days before from his friend Edward. When the Alcalá sisters were arguing, it was best to withdraw from the convers
ation in time because Edward assured him that if he didn’t, they would end up including everyone who was around them in their fight and encourage them to give their opinion.

  He decided to lean back in his chair, take a sip of coffee and watch.

  “Why can’t you accept how I am?”

  “Because it's not who you are, Isabel. Agree to it one god damn time.” Carlota raised her voice.

  “Who says so?”

  “Me! I have lived with you all my life and it turns out that I know you more than you think you know yourself. All that paraphernalia of heels and obsessive makeup you got from him.”

  Juan Carlos watched as Isabel's eyes reddened. For the first time he was curious about the “him” Carlota was talking about.

  Who was this man who made Isabel suffer so?

  ***

  Isabel had only been walking through the center of downtown an hour and could hardly move her feet.

  Inside, she cursed everything she could and in every way she knew how.

  Juan Carlos walked beside her in silence, watching everything around him.

  It was the third time they had visited the city since he appeared. She liked to look over it because she could see in his eyes how he was astonished at everything he saw. For Isabel, the experience of meeting such an old man, and surprising a human being every minute with things that were normal for her, but new for him, was something she enjoyed doing every day.

  Besides, he was a nice man. He had a tolerable personality, was educated and loved to learn.

  That caught Isabel's eye. Juan Carlos was always attentive to what they taught him and questioned some of those lessons. Like the time she told him, he had to bathe every day because he stank. The poor man explained that water softens the skin and causes death. Of course, it was not that he was worried about death, but it was wrong in his day.

  Or when the two of them talked alone.

  He looked uncomfortable. He tried to mark a considerable distance even though she explained to him no one would think badly of her if he decided to sit next to her when they were alone.

  They gave him a room in the house. He was a very obliging man. Edward didn’t think twice about giving him money. At first he did not want to accept it but after realizing nothing could be done without these papers and coins, they agreed he would receive a wage for helping with the farming and what was needed to be done at the estate.