3
Despite Indira”s call, I decided to go to work that morning, hoping that the situation would resolve itself if I ignored it long enough.
Obviously, the plan did not work.
For the first time in all the years I had been in Madrid, I found the metro station completely deserted. In a city that never slept, finding a lonely platform at rush hour was like being teleported to a parallel dimension.
The train lights illuminated the bottom of the tunnel, and when the carriage stopped, I pulled the lever to open the doors. It was completely empty. Unable to believe my eyes, I checked my cell phone to see if it was indeed half past eight in the morning. Just as the beeps to indicate the door was closing sounded, a woman jumped inside and sat down right opposite me. As a good citizen of Madrid, I ignored her presence and stared at the floor.
The lights in the carriage flickered a couple of times, and as the train trundled to a halt, the lights went out. More annoyed than scared, I looked at my phone again and waited for us to start moving again.
I sensed movement. The woman got up and stood in front of me, invading my personal space.
“Excuse me, isn”t there enough room to sit down?” I said curtly.
I looked up to see the figure of my mother, watching me with a grimace under the dim, yellowish glow of the emergency lights. Her hair and clothes were wet, but the drops didn’t puddle the ground. My heartbeat thundered in my ears as she squeezed in beside me and settled back in the seat. She seemed to feel at ease on the subway and studied her surroundings with interest. I, meanwhile, was doing mental calculus, trying to figure out how she had gotten there.
“What are you doing here?” was all I could manage to say. “Weren”t you at the hospital?”
“Hospital? No hospital can help me anymore.”
She reached out, and her whole arm went right through mine. I stifled a scream.
“What is this? Am I dreaming?”
She shook her head.
“Deep down, you do know. You know why I”m here.”
“I have no idea! Because you’ve never been on the subway before and were curious?” I replied with a note of hysteria in my voice.
My mother snorted, brushing a damp lock away from her face.
“They forced me to come. I’m not here by choice.”
“Who forced you to come?”
“I’m not allowed to talk about it. But I must tell you some things... things I couldn”t tell you before.”
“How lovely. And how unlike you.”
This hologram was far more communicative than my mother”s original version.
“I told you this wasn”t my idea.”
“So,” I said with a resigned sigh, convinced that this was a bad dream, “What’s this super important thing you need to tell me so urgently?”
“Have I ever told you about how I met your late father?”
“Did you really come all the way to Madrid to talk about that?”
“Well, we have to start somewhere... this is going to take a while.”
I decided to play along. The train was still stalled, and I had nothing else better to do.
“From what I remember, he worked as a gardener and studied landscaping in the afternoons, didn”t he?”
“At that time, yes, he did. His intention was never to stay in Spain. He only stayed because your grandmother was in her final years and to forget his ex-girlfriend at the same time. He wanted to study in Valencia and then go back to his country to start his own business. But then he met me…”
“How very romantic.”
My mother ignored my sardonic tone and continued, wringing the water out of her hair.
“When we met, Martin was living with your grandmother Carmen on Gran Vía Avenue. They had a corner balcony. I was barely twenty years old, and he was fifteen years older. A grown man and me, no more than a child. I always used to look up the balcony on my way to work. It was an oasis of greenery entwined in the brown railings, and I had never seen such a pretty balcony…”
“I didn”t know you were interested in gardening?”
“Maybe it wasn’t so much the plants, but
the handsome man with tanned skin and light hair who watered the plants with his shirt off. Imagine what he was like back then, with all that sun and physical work...”
The subway lights flickered for an instant but then returned us to darkness after a couple of seconds.
“Please, Mom, spare me those kinds of details.”
“Look who’s talking! Just so you know, I tried to manifest myself last night in your room, and I had to cover my face with my hands. But unfortunately, my fingers are now transparent.”
I felt my cheeks burning and then remembered José María”s deadly pallor the night before. Could it be possible?
She shuffled in the seat and continued with her story. “Finally, one day, the handsome gardener spotted me from his balcony and said hello. He told me his name was Martin Br?ljan and asked me my name. I told him I was called Beatriz and warned him, “But don”t try to call me Bea, or I”ll have to kill you,” I said.”
“That was a bit extreme, wasn”t it? You’re not the best mom, but I wouldn’t have pegged you as a murderer...”
My mother let out a nervous laugh.
“If only you knew…”
“If only I knew what?
“Nothing, all in good time.” She looked up at the roof of the carriage, squinting. “1978 was probably the best year of our lives. But if I could go back in time, I”d never go near your father again.”
“Thanks,” I replied, taking in the implications of that statement.
“It”s the truth. Your father”s charm in the eighties had nothing to do with the deathly bore he became a little later. By the time he passed away, there was no trace left of the man I married.”
The carriage gave a jolt and started up again. Meanwhile, my mother began to become more and more transparent. My nerves were shredded, and I stifled a scream.
“I”ll have to carry on with my story another day,” she muttered in frustration, staring at her hands as they started to fade.
“You”d better because I”m getting off at the next stop.” I tried to keep my composure, sure that I would find a logical explanation for our unlikely encounter. “I don”t understand why, after forbidding me to talk about Dad for years, now you come to tell me all these ridiculous anecdotes.”
“Vesna.” Her expression changed, becoming more somber. When she spoke again, she really did sound like a ghost talking from beyond the grave. “I’m here because I have an important message. To begin with, you must leave Madrid, do you hear me? I don”t know when I”ll be able to see you again. But you have to leave as soon as possible.”
“What are you talking about? Are you nuts? My life is here now. I have a salary, an apartment, and a lover who takes me to nice places. What more could I ask for?”
“Really? Is that all you want out of life? Do you feel happy with… this?”
She waved her hand, encompassing me and the rest of the train.
“And since when does that matter to you?”
My mother touched her neck as if searching for something and then dropped her gaze.
“Look, Vesna, I know I haven”t been the best mother. But I saw your grandmother Carmen, and she told me about an inheritance. She told me you should go and look for it.”
“Grandma Carmen had dementia and died poorer than a church mouse. That’s nonsense.”
“No, people here don”t lie, and this concerns your heritage, Vesna. She said there was something valuable in your father”s country. She also said that if you didn”t find it, you would end up like me.”
“Old, drunk, and broke?”
“Apart from being old, you already have all the qualifications.”
You shameless ghost.
The lights stopped flickering, and the loudspeakers announced the next stop.
“Listen to me,” my mother mumbled nervously. “Listen to me for once in your life. Go to Slovenia to look for your ancestors. It”s important.”
“Mom, I can”t afford it. I barely make ends meet as it is.”
“Didn’t you hear me? Your ancestors left you something of great value. No matter how much the journey costs, you”ll get it back in spades.”
She began to fade. The train stopped. The doors opened, and new passengers surged through the doors. I stood up and got off the train. When I stepped onto the platform, my mother was no longer beside me.
“Vesna, there”s something else I must tell you...” she whispered, her voice echoing in my head, although her body had already disappeared. “You need to know that your father... your father is not here.”