To commemorate the 90th anniversary of the Civil War, José Ángel Mañas recreates in Zenda, day by day in this section, what happened in 1936, perhaps the most pivotal year in the entire recent history of Spain.
Wednesday, October 14, 1936: Voices in the Dark
Hide the cards, mother. I can’t even bear to look at them — Pepe Mañas said. And don’t take offense. They remind me of father. You know that lately we’ve been playing at night, after dinner. That is how we were when the militiamen arrived. Killers! Do you know what hurts me most? It was the first night we talked, so friendly, without disagreements. After many misunderstandings, it seemed we had reconciled.
—Perhaps that is how God wants it, Pepe.
—Then God is cruel, mother. That’s why I cannot believe in Him. And I say it, mother, because what is happening to us feels like a punishment. What wrong have you and I done? Why must this misfortune befall us?
—It’s not just us, Pepe. It’s the war.
—The war, mother. That’s what everyone says. It’s as if suddenly we had a license for any atrocity, to lose control of ourselves, to become animals… I don’t understand it.
—Neither do I, Pepe, but we can’t go on like this.
—Like this, how?
—We can’t keep talking all the time about father. Mourning him. As if that would bring him back. We have to accept it and keep living as best we can while God wills.
—It was a month ago, mother. And we’ve already started to forget him. Yesterday you brought out his clothes. All the clothes that still fit me I have inherited. We’ve sold the rest.
—We’ll keep his trunk intact, Pepe.
—Of course. While I’m here, it won’t move from his chest, nothing from that trunk will be touched. But the worst thing isn’t that, mother. Do you know what I am most ashamed of, what I will never forget? Having killed your mare. Poor Habana! I know there are more shortages every day. I see how empty the shop is, how hard it is to buy food and redeem the militiamen’s vouchers. But to sacrifice your mare, mother, that was the last straw.
—We need it. The butcher did us a favor. We need to feed ourselves, Pepe. And they stole the other horse. It was only a matter of time before they took that one as well.
—If only Father could see us…
—He does see us, Pepe. I know he is up there, watching over us. He protects us when there are bombardments. Think of the one that fell the other day in the lot beside the Church of San Miguel…
—Father isn’t anywhere, mother. He lies buried under the earth. He feeds the worms.
—Don’t say that, Pepe. I feel his presence. Every night I pray for him, and your cousins do the same. And you should too. Put yourself in the hands of the Lord, and pray that this ends soon.
—I won’t pray, mother. But you all should, if you like.
—Where are you going?
—To sleep! In case the sirens wake us and we have to go down to shelter in the church… Good night, mother.
Todas las entradas de 1936 día a día
Entrevista con José Ángel Mañas sobre 1936 día a día