35. Death Comes To Santa Lucia
DEATH COMES TO SANTA LUCIA
Analisa Cruz
Analisa hated the holidays.
All it did was give her family an opportunity to poke holes into her life. Boyfriend, when? Marriage, when? Babies, when? Abandon the career she loved and busted her ass for, when? Easter dinner was no exception. She was better off staying at the clinic.
The women in her family were strong but small-minded.
It was almost like the campo mentality was written into their DNA and she was the anomaly born with a rare mutation.
Santa Lucia was two hours away from Manizales but it was a bustling community with four nearby haciendas, one of them being the Hacienda Narvaez, among the largest in the region.
They didn’t have a full-service hospital but their local family clinic was robust for what it was. She was proud of that accomplishment.
And how fitting that the next Narvaez heir had been born here…on his ancestral land, in the same village his family had planted roots in six generations prior.
The birth had been one of those swift ones.
Her patient, Dahlia Narvaez, had given birth within the hour.
The baby, whom they’d named Andi, was a healthy seven pounds and eight ounces.
All fingers and toes with a clean bill of health.
Of course, they’d have to go to Manizales tomorrow for a more thorough examination at the hospital but for now, they would make it through the night safely.
This was Analisa’s dream. But it was also emotionally taxing.
Smoking was a bad habit she picked up from an even worse boyfriend in her early 20s. Every once in a while she went outside to light up a cigarette to calm her nerves. Tonight was one of those nights. Taxing but oh so fulfilling.
She was outside the clinic standing on the corner under a lamppost when the doors burst open. She recognized the man immediately: Alejandro Narvaez.
Analisa had seen the way he held his wife’s hand and coached her through the whole thing. The man was on autopilot; moving through the motions and doing his best to support in whatever way he could. It was clear they were in love. Deeply, too. Analisa’s family didn’t understand that.
She’d experienced more love as a witness in that delivery room than she had in any of her previous romantic relationships. She was better off staying married to her one true love; medicine. Her degree would never cheat on her and decide she wasn’t good enough.
“Ma,” Alejandro Narvaez was on the phone. He ran his fingers through his hair, laughing and short of breath. “I know you’ve been calling, I’m sorry.”
Analisa felt guilty for intruding on a private moment so she finished her cigarette quickly before he could see her.
“Dahlia went into labor—it all happened so quickly, we’re here at the clinic in Santa Lucia. She had a boy. A boy. I have a son.” The revelation all escaped him in a gasp of joy and delight. “We have a son.”
Analisa put out her cigarette and discreetly began the walk to the clinic’s front doors.
“We named him Andi—well, Lisandro after Papi, but—” he stopped. “Ma, Mami, slow down. What’s wrong?”
Analisa couldn’t hear what was being said but as she crept closer to the clinic’s front doors, a car rounded the corner so quickly she could smell burned rubber. No one ever drove that fast in a town like this and especially not at this time of night. On Easter Sunday no less.
The whole thing transpired in slow motion.
The car drove past the clinic. Alejandro Narvaez was on the phone, Analisa touched the door handle.
Alejandro Narvaez turned just as the car came to a screeching halt and the window rolled down.
He said a name. Only one.
“Sandro.”
And the car window started firing.
Analisa watched as Alejandro Narvaez’s body jerked once, twice, and a third time. Two more bullets echoed into the dark night but he had already collapsed into a pool of his own blood by then.
The window rolled up and the car drove off.
Analisa screamed.