Critical Matters
Events escalate in both the past and the present.
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February 6th, 1845
Querido hijo,
You have been a great support for your brother in the past year. I received a letter from Martin that leaves me concerned. I wish for you to speak with him regarding his engagement.
Since the announcement, it seems that Señorita Catalina has undergone strange events. Despite being skilled in horse riding, on two occasions she has nearly fallen off. She has encountered unpleasant buyers, and recently she confided that a suspicious man has been following her. Fortunately, the vendors look after one another, and they have given special attention to her safety.
These events are causing Martin distress. He seems convinced that he is the cause of her misfortunes. It seems I cannot reassure him with logic and reason. Perhaps you can ease his conscience by appealing to spiritual matters.
I am afraid that his paranoia will cause him to break his engagement. I am sure you are aware of how that would irrevocably destroy his reputation. Señorita Catalina would be affected as well, though she would be viewed as the victim. Even if we do not account social standings, I cannot imagine a better match for Martin than her.
Please inform me of your conversation with him. He needs your support and encouragement.
Atentamente,
Guillermo Echevarria
March 3rd, 1845
Estimado Papá,
I am afraid that this letter finds you with distressing news.
Señorita Catalina contracted cholera and was hospitalized. The vendors who saw her last described her as pale and ghostly. As I write this letter, Martin takes up residence in our chapel. He has been on his knees for hours, crying for her healing. I expect that this event will only heighten his anxieties which you described.
I am also concerned for her. I have heard that the likelihood of survival is low. They say that doctors bloodlet their patients to extract the illness. That poor woman is experiencing unimaginable suffering all alone. This is why we must pray for a miracle.
I will write to you again as soon as I have news. Please pray for Señorita Catalina.
Suyo en Cristo,
Fr. Josue Echevarria, O.P.
April 25, 1845
Estimado Papá,
I regret to inform you that I broke off the engagement to Señorita Catalina Ruiz. I know that this news will distress both you and Mamá. I am also aware that you will need to discuss compensation with the Ruiz family. Please understand that I made this decision for her well being.
I am convinced that a curse is upon me. You are aware that a series of unfortunate events fell upon her after our engagement. Despite my worries, my love for her encouraged me to continue on this path.
When she contracted cholera, I implored to God that she be healed. However, I was aware that her survival was unlikely. Josue was a great support for me during that tumultuous time. He prayed with me, accompanied me, and even cried with me. Her recovery was surely divine intervention.
Yet, I had this persistent thought that I was the cause of her suffering. She seemed to live a peaceful life up until our engagement. When I spoke about my worries with Josue, he reminded me that we are not a faith of superstition. He also encouraged me to discern the engagement.
So I reflected on our time together. She has been nothing but warm and gentle with me. It was then I realized she deserved to be with a man who could bring her peace. I would only cause her perpetual struggles. Yes, she survived cholera. But perhaps she will not be as fortunate the next time. I am not willing to risk her life for my desires.
I am fully aware that my actions will ruin our family reputation. Therefore, I am preparing to leave for La Isla de Cuba. A colleague has offered me a role as a law professor at La Universidad de Habana. I will return home before I depart for the colony.
I hope that you will bless this new adventure I will soon embark upon. I will see you and Mamá soon. I pray you can forgive me by the time I meet you.
Atentamente,
Martin Echevarria
I’ve never been a very religious person. Like any cradle Catholic, I got my First Communion and Confirmation, and moved on with my life. For the most part, I’ve gone to Sunday Mass every week. But since meeting Fr. Agustin, I’ve made an effort to attend Wednesday masses. He lets me uncover his family drama. The least I could do is go to a second Mass outside of my Sunday obligations. Lately, I’ve grown to like it. I come out of it more at peace and energized for the day ahead.
On this particular Wednesday, Fr. Victor led daily Mass. Fr. Agustin is the only priest for this church, so he is a visitor. At the end of the Mass I introduced myself before inquiring about Agustin. He offered a knowing look, but asked me to wait until the church had cleared.
Once the last attendee was out of earshot, he informed me that Fr. Agustin was at Baptist hospital for a family emergency. His niece’s fiancé had a ruptured brain aneurysm and was rushed to the ER. Both families are at the hospital, and he is with them offering prayers and support.
He must have mentioned my involvement, because Fr. Victor followed up by encouraging me to contact Agustin if I happen to find new information about his family. And, of course, to pray for the fiancé. I stayed for a couple of more minutes.
That night, I dreamed that I stood in the middle of the courtyard of a monastery. There were four squares of green held together by a cobbled path. The breezeway surrounding me was two stories, with its arches and columns emanating a muted, golden hue thanks to the setting sun. Gregorian chant drifted into the courtyard, so I followed the cobbled path towards the music.
I stepped into a dark chapel, with its only light source coming from the candles perched at the corners of the altar. Behind it was a towering crucifix, with Mary on Jesus’s right, and what looked like a thorn-crowned Jesus carrying a cross about as tall as himself. Gregorian chant reverberated through a chapel that could probably fit forty people.
Ahead of me was a monk with his back towards me, his head covered by a black hood. He rocked the censer towards the crucifix, continuing his chanting. The incense rising out of the censer emitted a green glow, as if someone mixed liquid from a glow stick into the resin. It was the same green that exploded out of the family tree.
I was too distracted by the glowing incense to realize that this hooded priest stood inches in front of me. I drew in a short gasp, coming face to face with the man. He was not responsible for the Gregorian chant, which was now mingling with the incense.
He shared the same face as Martin Echevarria, at least from the few pictures I could dig up of him. Except he was completely clean shaven, and no doubt sported a tonsure beneath the hood. The glowing incense surrounding us revealed an envious glint in his eyes.
“She should be MY destiny.”
He thrusted the censer towards me, punching me awake.
BACKSTABBED BY A BROTHER (BOTH CLERIC AND FAMILY)?!???!?!???!
OHHHHHH
This should be quite something...oh dear.