Chapter 1

"Bodas de Sangre?!"

I looked up from my reading to my fellow passenger in the aisle seat. She was a very attractive woman, professionally dressed, I thought perhaps a few years older than I was. I returned her smile. "Si. Garcia Lorca, 1933, Bodas de Sangre." I put down the manuscript of the play and continued in Spanish, "Have you read it?"

The woman shook her head no and answered in Spanish, "Blood Wedding? No. It's a little too dark for my taste, especially for recreational reading."

"Well, yeah... But it was written just a few years before the Spanish civil war. Those were dark times..."

"True... I did see the play once, a long time ago, my freshman year at college."

"Oh? Where was that?"

"Universidad Pablo De Olavide, about five miles from Sevilla. It must have been ten years ago... Hi! My name is Carlotta."

I nodded and continued attempting to speak Spanish. "Hi! I'm Gary. I'm pleased to meet you. I've never been to Spain. I'd like to go there someday."

The woman raised her eyes at me and laughed. "Forgive me, but your accent is very American! From your reading, I would have guessed... well... Oh, forgive me!"

I laughed back and continued to amuse her by speaking. "Oh, laugh all you want! I know I'm... what's the word... butchering the language. I just started to learn Spanish... less than a year ago."

"Then you are doing exceedingly well."

"I was in Chile last year, Copiapo and Santiago, for four years... err, sorry, what's the word? Months... four months. Uh, late May through September."

"And now you're returning. Do you have family there?"

"No. I'm returning to work there, at Banco Santander."

"Ah! In the city?"

I nodded. "Yes, that's right, the commercial district."

"Will you be staying in Chile long?"

"It's a permanent position. I'm thinking of making Chile my home."

Carlotta looked at me very thoughtfully. "That's a big decision, picking a new country to live in. I know from experience. Do you have a place to stay?"

"The Hotel San Francisco. The bank is putting me up there until I find a home."

"Wonderful! I work nearby, with my brother and his wife. We have an art gallery." Carlotta opened her purse and handed me a card. "Stop by if you like, once you settle in. Perhaps we could find something for your home..."

The stewardess arrived and served us a late snack. With the wine, it was almost a dinner. Carlotta and I started chatting, and I found her company very enjoyable. I was my first time to travel first-class, and I appreciated how nice it was to relax in the large comfortable chairs while having a meal and conversing. Carlotta was very easy to talk with, engaging, polite, very smart, and she had a true love of art. She also showed me some cute pictures of her five-year old daughter Isabelle, of whom she was fiercely proud.

It was late in the evening. American flight 7701 nonstop from Miami was due to arrive in Santiago at 6:50 in the morning. After dinner we continued to talk, describing our lives to each other. Carlotta also described some of the many museums in the Santiago downtown area, and we made a tentative plan to tour one together some weekend.

I sank back into my chair. "These seats are great. This is the first time I've flown first class."

Carlotta nodded. "For me too. My brother Emilio set up my flights for me. I didn't even realize what he had done until I boarded the plane tonight... He shouldn't have done it, we really don't have the money for this, but I think he thought I would need the gift... He is so kind to me..." She sighed and leaned back in her chair, looking tired and closing her eyes.

It was late. We both tried to do a little reading. Carlotta soon yawned and decided to sack out.

I turned out my overhead light to help her rest. "Muchas gracia Gary..." Carlotta murmured, keeping her eyes closed. I smiled at her, watching her fall asleep. It would be a long flight for me too, seventeen hours including my connecting flight from Newark. But my mind was too excited for sleep. I gazed out my window at the blackness of South America below.

I was getting back to Chile more than three months later than I had planned. In early January I decided both the mystery of A'moth and my affection for her would never let me rest if I didn't pursue her. So I told the bank president at Santiago I accepted his offer and would start working February 1'st. At first, Carlos was overjoyed.

All hell broke loose at the New York office when I announced my intentions to permanently transfer to Chile. Unknown to me, the senior New York executives were having such great success with my industry modeling, they had decided to create a new hedge fund based on my model's predictions. Why they didn't tell me about their plans earlier, well, high-level mucky-mucks sometime move in strange and mysterious ways.

I told them my decision to emigrate was firm but they were not people who took no for an answer. They shocked me by pulling some strings with the Bank's board of directors in Spain. Carlos got a call from Spain at 6 AM Santiago time, pulling him out of a morning shower. He was asked to work something out with me, with the clear message to keep the New York heavyweights happy.

Carlos and I had a long phone conversation later that day. He's a very savvy guy. He pointed out to me that the New York executives were in a very vulnerable position, having just jumped up and down to the Board about how they needed me at any cost. Carlos told me he'd go to bat for me with the Board if I wanted to come to Chile right away, but he also suggested I take advantage of the opportunity, delay coming to Chile and milk the ticket for all it was worth. The New York execs couldn't say no without looking like a bunch of stingy idiots to the Board in Spain.