Chapter 3

"So, John, what are you looking for specifically in Spain?"

"Just some legend from a villager that I can inject some fictional characters into and make a story out of it. I don't know yet whether they will be Jewish, Moor or Christian. The story may include followers all three teachings. I might even make the main character one of the French Crusaders. They were the ones who fought against the Islamic forces."

I picked up my coffee cup and went into the living room. I let my mind wander over some of what I had related to Pamela. Most of my stories had a reasonably happy ending. This time I had almost decided I would make my new story a little more true to life. The hero doesn't always live and sometimes the heroine ends up with the bad guy, not knowing what the future holds for her. Life is a series of decisions and we don't always make the correct choices.

"I'm calling Sarah Burkheart, Bob's mother."

"Okay. I'm upstairs packing." When I came down Pamela was sitting in the living room where I had sat earlier. "Did you talk to her?"

"Yes. She asked me to go see Bob. She said I was the only person she knew who had any influence over him. I guess he has been making threats, swearing he is going to kill the husband who beat him up. I told her I couldn't. I was working for an author and was leaving for Spain on Wednesday to help him. I guess I learned I can lie just as you do sometimes. John, Bob is out of my life. If I saw him now, I know I would regret it."

"You're not stretching the truth too much. There are many things you will be doing for me. Forget Bob. His problems are ones he made himself. I'm going to call Hugo to see if he has time to meet us today." I made the call. I came back to Pamela. "Hugo has to take his wife for a doctor's appointment. His wife has been battling an illness for four years now. He says she isn't even able to proofread his stories anymore which she enjoyed doing so much."

I was silent thinking about my friends, she was so sick, and he having to cope the best he could. "Life sucks, and this is another one of those instances where bad things happen to good people. Come on, let's get stuff for a picnic. We can drive by his place and go sit on the dam at Sunset Lake to eat lunch. We'll stop by his farm on the way back and admire the view anyway."

"You say farm. What does he grow?"

"He used to have a few head of beef. Now he just rents out the land to a dairy farmer. He wants the land kept open and not let it grow up to brush like so many unworked farms have done. The fields are still mowed and pastures are still grazed. You'll see how neat it looks."

Sunset Lake was a reservoir for the water system of the Town of Brattleboro. There were no motor boats allowed. Canoes and small fishing crafts were allowed if oars were used. I took two air mattresses and we lay on these on top of the dam while eating our lunch. The wind came off the water and cooled us even lying in the bright sunshine as we were. It was a lazy, contented day.

Pamela was wearing a halter top and short shorts. I had on a tee and swim trunks. Both of us were trim. She from her youth, and me from my exercise regimen. "John, do you love Mom?"

I paused before answering. "On some level I do. If we were other than who we are, or should I say, who I am, we would have been happy together. Our hateful words were all behind us by the time the divorce was final. I guess if we rekindled our romance, we could be happy. That is if I changed. I don't see that happening, so we'll just be friends with a past that was at times wonderful and at times not so much." Pamela didn't say more and soon I fell asleep.

Later I awoke bathed in sweat for the sun bore down on us. I roused from hearing Pamela get up. She walked in front of me. She was beautiful. Her hair still was together the way the hairdresser had done it yesterday. I watched as she walked to the car for a drink of water and I openly watched as she returned.

"You're staring."

"No, just looking at something of beauty." You can attempt to describe something beautiful, but it isn't like seeing it before you. I said no more about how Pamela affected me. "I guess it is time we left. I want to still show you Hugo's place. The sun will be coming in from the west and outlining the buildings. Part of the barn and the house were built in 1780. The barn was added to in 1900. Hugo told me this morning that the first cutting of hay was just completed. The fields will look like acres of lawn.

"In fact several artists come and paint either the barn or the open fields every year. Some fields are bordered with white birch trees both to the north and to the south and artists are drawn to these as well. To the southeast there is the view looking to Boston, Mass. Directly to the east there is New Hampshire with its mountains and villages."

"I can see how you attract your readers. You paint a picture with words so a person can see it. Show me this place, oh great one."

The next morning at breakfast Pamela said she wasn't hungry. "Too much sun yesterday and I think I'm too excited about leaving tomorrow. Let's go over the checklist again. You are sure we won't get into trouble in Spain? I love my country and would hate it if anything happened to prevent me from coming home."

I did have a list of the things we needed and a long list of do's and don'ts to adhere to while traveling. We had taken our overseas shots and the week before I had purchased insurance, both medical and accident for all three of us. Money was to be exchanged at the airport when we landed in Madrid. I had traveled enough in years past so this was quite routine for me.

Wednesday morning we boarded our plane in Boston. I planned on laying over in Paris and taking Pamela to a club I had enjoyed visiting several times. I wondered if I should when my companion was airsick on the flight over. We had a great time and made a night of it. We didn't leave France until late that next day, arriving in Madrid, Spain a few hours later. Immediately we boarded a train for Cordoba. We slept all the way.

Trains here traveled much faster than those in the states. It was eight in the morning when we found the small villa I had rented and we went immediately to bed. When we awoke it was unbearably hot and we couldn't comfortably go out into the sun. The villa was well stocked with food and water. One of the cautions was to drink bottled water here.

We ventured out as the sun was going down and the city was coming alive. People were out and the streets were crowded. Most didn't seem to be going anywhere, just enjoying the evening. There was a small street fair we paused to watch. I made my way to one of the places where I was to gather information I might want to put in my new book.

We were able to enter a cathedral that was billed as Catholic, but the architecture belied that it had been built by Christians. Many signs showed its Muslim beginnings. There were carvings on some of the appointments showing minarets. There was a guide at the entrance and he said the building was 1079 years old. This put it back to the age when the Moors held the city.

"Are you a Muslim?"

"No, I'm writing a book and contemplating setting the tale here."

"You didn't look or act Muslim. People come here from all over the world. Islam is tolerated in Spain and it is against the law to discriminate. We guides make a game of guessing who is Christian and who is of a different religious persuasion. Would you like some literature to take with you?"

"Yes, it would be very helpful." We left with a sizable bundle of brochures. I was a little disappointed as we thumbed through the glossy folded pamphlets. The information was mostly about what happened after January of 1492. Then when I looked closely at the information, I could see the long battle the crusaders had fought to bring about their final victory on that date. I knew somewhere in this city, I would find the other side of the story and the battles for defense by the Islamic forces that had been fought to hold onto their religion and way of life here on the peninsular.

It was late evening when we found a place for dinner in a hotel. It was a jovial crowd and I heard several different languages spoken where we chose to dine. We had just been seated when the host asked if we would mind having another couple join us. How could we refuse?

He went away for a minute coming back followed by a couple. The man appeared to be my age or a little older. The woman was perhaps a year younger than me. "Senor Smith, meet Senor Ramda Qudos and Senorita Leanna. Thank you so much for providing seating for two of our guests who are staying here at the hotel. A waiter will be with you soon." He hurried away, while our guests sat themselves.

"Hello, I'm John Smith and this is Pamela Becker. I'm an author and Miss Becker is traveling with me. She is taking notes while I am researching for a location to set a book."

"American are you? That's good. I'm a history professor. My roots came from Spain centuries ago. I thought I might try tracing a couple of them while here on vacation. Where are you from?"

"Brattleboro, Vermont. Pamela lives in Rutland."

"Hey we're neighbors. I teach in Buffalo, New York. Small world, isn't it?" Just then the wine steward appeared and we ordered wine. It was on the table as soon as it was approved.

Pamela took a sip from her glass and said she guessed she would pass. "John took me out last Saturday and I drank more than I should have. I get this queasy feeling quite often since then."

Leanna's relationship to Ramda hadn't been explained. I knew she was extremely pretty. She had flashing dark eyes and long flowing jet-black hair. Her shape was to die for. I glanced at Pamela. I don't think she appreciated how Leanna looked as much as I did. Ramda was as handsome as a man could be. He was slightly taller than I was. What set him above others in looks was his trimmed goatee and his styled mane which was dark like Leanna's.

Over dinner we learned more about each other and our reason for being here in Spain. Finally Pamela and I deduced that Leanna was Ramda's sister. Their family was well to do and she just amused herself with charities, etc. Ramda explained that he was really serious about his teaching and wanted to find out more about his ancestors to show how history down through the years had progressed.

"You know a major part of history is driven by religion. Take my ancestors for instance. I'm not sure, but from what my grandfather has told me, much of our family history passed down by word of mouth, took place right here in Spain. I'm Catholic because my grandfather was when he came to the United States. Before that, I don't know for sure. The story goes that one of my ancestors was with the 400 troops and their Moorish General, Gibril Tarik, who were the first to invade Spain. You, of course, know Gibraltar. The Rock was named after this leader. They were the followers of Mohammad.

This first exploratory mission netted the Africans much loot after ravaging several small towns just inland. Later that same year he returned with 7000 African troops, defeating the Spanish King, Roderic. The Moors dominated the Iberian Peninsular for the next seven centuries. Their rule finally ended in 1492."

Pamela looked at me for I had told her some of this previously. Ramda went on. "Cordoba soon became the light of the world and was its shining jewel. It was a modern metropolis, having centers of learning and museums. The library here held hundreds of thousands of manuscripts on everything including medicine, music, astronomy, etc. The city was a wonder of civil government. The streets here were paved and lighted at night and there were even sidewalks for the people to walk on.

"Spain was a rich country and the earth gave up its mineral wealth through extensive mining. There were thousands of markets scattered throughout the city, and public baths numbering in the hundreds. The schools were also public and the populace was 99% educated. This was Moorish Spain. In Catholic Europe at the time, even kings couldn't read or write, say nothing about the general public.

"Slowly though, this came to an end as the kings of Europe with their Catholic crusaders, pushed back the Moors, taking one province after another. Illiterate, they set about destroying what the Muslims had built, burning the manuscripts and writings gathered by those who did, believing they contained heresy.

"Generally Islam, at the time, was a more tolerant religion, only asking for the original inhabitants to convert or be expelled. Many of the Spaniards resisted and took death rather than convert or leave their homeland. As the tide turned in favor of the Christian conquests, the land became even more bloody. Those people who had converted to the different religion were looked down on, much as the collaborators between the Nazis and the French during the second world war. Eventually the Moors were driven back to Africa. There were others who were driven out of the land at the same time. The Jews faired no better than the Moors.

"Damn it, you have just listened to one of my history lessons and we have just met over dinner. I'm sorry about that. Forgive me, please?"

It was Pamela who spoke, "No need, as John is here looking for a story. I'm sure he is more than just a little interested. I know I am."

"Ramda, would you have lunch with us tomorrow at my villa? It will be cool there and we can explore this more. I have been told about an Islamic museum where there is sure to be more information on this subject."

"I'd love to. Give me the address of your villa and we'll come by taxi."

We parted, and as it had been a long day, bed would be welcomed. The bedrooms of the villa were separated only by curtains that could be pulled aside to let the air circulate. I could hear Pamela making ready for sleep as I did likewise. "John, she is pretty isn't she?"

"Leanna? Yes she is."

"Do you find her attractive? I mean, would you like to make love to her?"

"Go to sleep, Pamela."

Three hours later I arose, wanting to see more of the city before it got too warm. I had coffee in a small shop from the owner who was a very fat lady. When questioned which I would like, I opted for the very small black. I was used to this coffee from my travels in other countries. It surprised the owner that I relished it so. I tipped her heavily, saying she was an artist at brewing the concoction. I think she would have kissed me, she was that pleased.

As I walked along, I thought back to a half hour previously. I had come awake and before leaving, I stepped through the door to Pamela's room. She was lying there au-natural on top of her bed. She looked so innocent. Yes, Leanna was beautiful, but nothing to compare to Pamela. Did I feel as if I was invading her privacy? No, I didn't. How could I when such beauty was on display. I was thankful that I was the only one there to enjoy. I would be so jealous if anyone else viewed her as I was doing. Enough finally, I turned with the image of her etched firmly and forever in my mind.

I returned at eleven with Pamela just rising from her bed for breakfast. We had a muffin and some fruit at the same shop where I had coffee earlier. The owner purred over my companion. She was disappointed when I ordered coffee for Pamela weak and with milk. I had the same as before and the smiles came out.

We returned to the villa where we rested through the afternoon. I had made arrangements where I had my coffee to have a lunch for four catered in the villa. Did I want dinner? I would let her know when my luncheon guests arrived. Ramda and Leanna arrived on time at 4:30. They agreed to dinner at the villa for ten that evening.

Wine came from the cellars below. I would pay for this when I turned over the keys at the end of our stay. I chose a light sparkling wine to go with our sandwiches and assorted fruit. I also learned that the proprietor of the shop was related to the villa's owner which made a comfortable arrangement.

After lunch, Pamela and Leanna went shopping and Ramda took me to a small university where he had made an appointment to attend a lecture on Islamic history. I felt I had come into an unbelievable lucky situation. I had fallen in with someone who had contacts and they coincided with many of the things I would need to know for my projected book. Later the two of us wandered through some streets described as housing the rich and famous of ten and twelve centuries ago.

The two women had returned before us and had bathed. The caterer had come in and cooked our dinner on site. The smell of roast lamb wafted through the house making our mouths water. The cook had been down to the cellar and chosen an appropriate wine. She had also brought a lager with her that was brewed nearby.

The caterer also provided someone to serve us. Never had I had a more relaxed evening. I was inveigled to tell about my life and what drove me to write. "My ex-wife will be joining us here next week. She will be here for two weeks. Well, not here because we're moving on to Granada."

"Won't that be awkward, having your ex-wife here with lovely Pamela?"

"Not really Leanna. Janis is Pamela's stepmother and they get along very well. Actually, I'm the odd person out."

"John doesn't have to be. It could be either Mom or me. We think so much of him either one of us would be glad to become closer to him than we are. Mom and I have talked much about it. We have decided between us that if John falls in love with me or Mom, the other will back off and not interfere."

This enlightenment made me sharp with Pamela. "You've been drinking more than you should again, Pamela. I'm well able to find my own woman when I want one. I just might fall for Leanna."

I knew this would hurt Pamela because she was jealous. Leanna protested, "Don't put me into the middle of your love squabbles, although it might not be so bad having Johnny for a lover."

I looked at Pamela. I could see I had hurt her more than I intended to, for there were tears in her eyes. I changed the subject fast before she was hurt more. "Johnny is it? I haven't been called Johnny for years. I think I will start calling Pamela, Pam. Ramda, don't you have a nickname?"

"Sure, most everyone calls me Ram. Leanna's name is shortened and we call her Leah at home. Pour the wine and we will all drink to the new order of things." Pam was a little more quiet than she had been, but didn't withdraw from the conversation. It was two in the morning before we finished our dinner and our guests left for their hotel. I waited for Pam to open a discussion about what she had said at dinner concerning she and Janis. It bothered me that I had been discussed and the probable outcome would be me falling in love with one of them. That is why I spoke so sharply.

Ram and Leah were now our friends and we met, traveled the city, and socialized in the evening everyday. I called Janis and she said she could hardly wait to get to Spain and join us. We went over her travel plans again and two days later I met her at the train terminal. Ram was with me. Pam had another one of her queasy spells so had opted to stay at the villa. Leah had gone over to keep her company.

Ram looked at me when I introduced Janis. She was dressed in a traveling suit and appeared to be the most lovely woman who was stepping down from the train. While Janis and Pam were reconnecting at the villa, Ram said to me, "You're a crazy man for letting that lovely lady get away from you. I haven't said this before, but Pam is terribly in love with you as well. Why in God's name can't you choose one of them? When you do, I'm going to make a move on the other."