Dedication.

Prologue.

In he world there are many Williams who believe they live in a progressive country where you lack nothing if you work every day, and have a home and someone to take care of you, or at least learn to take care of yourself.

Many of these Williamses regard the United States of America as the ideal of an advanced society, where everyone knows what has to be done, and your worth is determined by how much you own, and how much you own by how much you work.

Unfortunately for these deluded Americans and immigrants, this glittering medal has a darker side: in the US, you are happy and content if you have a good job and excellent health. If you're walking down the street and have a stroke, for example, you'll be seen at the nearest hospital in a matter of seconds, yes, but when you're safely back home, you'll have a debt with the hospital and the ambulance service that you might not be able to pay, unless you have a lot of money in the bank. And if you die, your burial will be at the city's expense, and they will then present the bill "perhaps quite inflated" to your family, if they can find them. And even if they can't, your heirs will have that debt until it is paid off, one way or another.

Certainly, it's expensive to live in the USA, and so is dying. In other countries, like Spain, if you get sick, Social Security will treat you, if you're enrolled, that is. If you have money but are not in their scheme, they'll try to collect the costs from your insurance company, and if that fails, you'll have to pay out of your pocket; and if you don't have the money, they'll charge your family, and only if both of you are insolvent will the state, the city council, or the regional government take responsibility, although that would mean neither of you owns any property, because if you do, it would be seized to pay a debt that should be the state's, since we pay the highest taxes in Europe, if not the world.

Once you've learned your lesson, of course, you'll switch to social security and get a private policy to have what you had before, but with a safety net in case things get tough again in the future.

Despite boasting that we have the best healthcare system in the world, even in Spain we're not entirely safe, since the social security system has such a long waiting list that you might die before your turn for surgery. Hence the advantage of having a private health insurance policy, if you can afford it. If the Spanish public healthcare system were as reliable and perfect as politicians and their cronies claim, they would use it, wouldn't they? And yet the ministers of this supposedly left-wing and progressive government, as well as their associates, recovered from COVID-19 in private clinics or hospitals. Doesn't that make you wonder?

Some people think that these things don't happen in the socialist world. Well, are Cuba and Venezuela socialist countries? Were the German People's Republic or the Soviet Union so? I don't have direct references for the latter two, but I've been to Cuba twice, and I have close friends who fled from Venezuela. A close relative of one of them told me that his mother died because there wasn't a certain medicine available, one that's commonly used here. There, he would have had to buy it with money he didn't have. Regarding Cuba, on the other hand, I have direct experience from two past visits to The Pearl of the Caribbean. Suffice it to say that during my stay there, I got a small cut on my hand, and when I asked at a pharmacy for rubbing alcohol and cotton, they told me I needed a doctor's prescription for either. I had to treat myself with tissues and cologne, luxury items I could buy at a special shop for tourists... One might think this is due to the perverse US embargo, but in Cuba there are certainly raw materials for making gauze and alcohol for treating wounds. For my part, I attribute these shortages to a lack of private initiative. Neither in Cuba nor in the other proletarian paradises mentioned has there been a willingness"perhaps an inability"to renounce money. Money is, of course, a brilliant way to exchange personal effort: I give you an English lesson, for example, and instead of giving me a basket of eggs, you give me twenty euros, which I then pay to the supermarket owner in exchange for the various foods I need, and the owner of that store, in turn, gives the 20 euros to his supplier so that he can deliver various items that may have nothing to do with food...

But the trap that leads to the fall of the money-based system is that those who produce nothing end up hoarding it, increasing their wealth simply by lending it out: I lend you the €20 you need, but in a few months you have to give me €30. I haven't produced anything; I've simply trusted you, and you give me more money. And if you don't, since you've offered, for example, your fountain pen (or any other item you've offered that I value at least), your pen is mine. Then I'll sell it, perhaps for €40 or more, so I, who haven't been able to produce anything, end up with more money than I lent you. I'm not saying that's illegal, illegitimate, or immoral. I'm saying that it's the cause of the monetary system's fatal flaw: for some to gain, others have to lose. And those who produce nothing end up gaining the most. As I write this, a friend tells me that two years ago he bought shares for one cent each, and now they've risen to €17. Having bought 36,000 shares, the €360 he invested then has grown to €612,000. But for him to have gained so much, someone had to lose it. If money didn't exist, my friend wouldn't have gained that money, and no one else would have lost it, and the world would be fairer, in my opinion.

If money didn't exist... would a society in which it was completely abolished be possible? Would that be good, or would it create more problems than it solves? Would I give you English lessons without you giving me anything, but then if I needed food, would someone"not necessarily you"feed me for free? Would the supermarket owner get things from his suppliers without paying them anything? Would farmers and other producers give up the fruits of their labor in exchange for nothing? If I need a car to get somewhere, would someone lend it to me for free? What motivates people to work? Would there be politicians if they couldn't raise their own salaries because there wouldn't be enough money for them either? Would we all work for free if we were only allowed to work at what we love?

Interesting questions, aren't they? Well, perhaps you think they're idiotic questions. But, as some thinker once said, there are no irrelevant questions, only difficult answers. These days we're bombarded with messages about being charitable, about collaborating with NGOs "even though we later discover the government is already doing it for us" about putting ourselves in other people's shoes, about considering what would happen if other people's misfortunes were to befall us, and so on. Moreover, this solidarity and collaboration is imposed upon us by force, sometimes by force of arms, as we are compelled to pay taxes, from which scandalous sums are deducted to be given to the Red Cross, for example, where many volunteers, driven by their solidarity, work for free, giving what they can of their personal effort and time. Yet, at the same time, their managers earn salaries as high as you, reader, or I will never see.

Writers, fortunately for us and our readers, can imagine other realities, other worlds, other situations kinder to the individual, and we can describe them in such a way that both the reader and the author can experience a world where these things don't happen. A society where solidarity is neither vicarious nor imposed, nor where we are brainwashed with it. A world where solidarity and generosity, empathy and altruism are voluntary, personal, and widespread, so that those who don't feel them are compelled to imitate what most people do... or join another society.

Perhaps you think that's what was intended in the Soviet Union. Yes, that may have been Lenin's dream, but the methods and results didn't even come close to what is contemplated in this novel. You can't twist the human soul. We are the greatest and the most despicable thing in the universe, at the same time. It's just a matter of choice. Perhaps the poorest is the richest at the same time, and vice versa. And the best and the worst blur together on the line of each person's perspective. I leave the following words to the reader's judgment, their main objective being to provide a fun or at least entertaining moment, and if it makes you think"positively or negatively"about what is proposed here, I would be grateful if you would let me know.

1 The Long Wait.

Will had waited for almost five years to finally be granted the long-awaited visa to visit the most inaccessible country in Europe. They say it used to be practically a colony of English and Americans, but since some James Tempered of the Hours had won the elections several decades ago, things had begun to change there. Now it was nothing like it had been.

From having tourism as its primary source of income, that land came on to close its borders, admitting only a few dozen tourists a year, so that only those who truly wanted to could go on holiday to explore that strange country. Now its economy didn't rely on tourism, but was based on agriculture, livestock farming, and above all, heavy industry and R&D. However, perhaps that's why the country piqued the curiosity of the average citizen from the rest of Europe, and those of his friends who had managed to spend some time there said they had returned with regrets, wishing they could have stayed forever, although at the last minute they hadn't even dared to consider it.

That filled him with intrigue: if they had barely been given a visa to spend up to a month there, how were they going to be able to stay? He assumed that a residence permit would be extremely difficult to obtain, and citizenship, therefore, would be impossible to acquire. Illegal immigration was a cancer throughout Europe... except in that country. Those who entered without papers were immediately returned at the point of entry, and if they tried to flee, those people would shoot to kill. However, it was more common for everyone to help the police "since in that country every citizen was authorized by law to detain the perpetrator of a crime and hand them over to the police within a maximum of 24 hours" and therefore, illegal immigrants would quickly be at the disposal of law enforcement, who would take them back to the place where they had entered the country and forcibly expel them, after registering them on a list of personae non gratae, who would never be allowed to return, even if they had their papers in order.

That, needless to say, went against the European Union's do-gooder and subservient policy, but the Government had told that pack of Brussels officials that if they didn't like it, they could kick them out of their precious union of merchants (to whose governing bodies they would no longer contribute at all), so the favor would be mutual. Because they weren't going to be paid a single euro more whether they stayed or were kicked out, and it was better to do it yesterday than tomorrow. Despite the many threats made by the French and Germans, they didn't dare to intervene militarily in the country, since the government called for general mobilization. And that, on a peninsula with seven major mountain ranges and countless hills, was as suicidal as Napoleon's invasion had been; and it's no wonder Hitler didn't dare do it after invading half of Europe. Finally, the country was left to its own devices.

Hehe, but more than the country, it was the rest of Europe that was truly abandoned, because that country could have fed the entire continent with its agriculture and livestock, which had been neglected for decades while it was part of the Union. Since its independence, the country had opened trade routes with South America, China, and Russia, and eventually also with the United States. From these countries, it imported far less than it exported to, and also exported industrial and technological goods south to various African nations. Yes, that country, shaped like a bull's hide, could sustain itself, given that its social transformation had been much more profound than its industrial, livestock, and agricultural ones, as Will was about to discover firsthand. And when the euro collapsed, the Southern escudo was already worth above US $25 and tended to become the new international currency, as it was the only one in the world that posed no risk of devaluation or becoming fiat.

Since applying for a tourist visa five years ago, not much had happened in his life, other than losing one job and getting another a few months later, or divorcing Olivia, a young woman with high aspirations who wasn't satisfied with a loser, as she called Will, with whom she had wasted three years with no prospect of having children or her situation improving. They had married a year after they first met, and in their second year of marriage, she decided to divorce him. Because he wasn't as naive as she thought; he had seen the marital tragedy coming and had dedicated himself to waiting for her to take the step. He didn't mistreat her, no, but he didn't entertain her or please her either. When he came home from work, exhausted, she wanted to go to the movies or dancing, and he got used to her going alone, so when she stopped doing that "after her attempts to make him jealous failed" he encouraged her to keep going.

By doing so, everyone was happy: he rested, and she enjoyed herself.

"Aren't you afraid I'll hook up with someone else?"

"If you like him... But don't bring me any STDs or a baby bump".

"I hate you, Will".

"Heh, I love you, on the contrary. And I want you to be happy".

And so, when she arrived, on many occasions he had already eaten dinner, watched his favorite TV channel, lay down on the bed with a book, and fallen asleep.

She would undress, lie down, and turn off the light. Often she would put one leg over him and stroke him. Sometimes she managed to get him to wake up and make love to her, but since he was usually tired and predictable, she had to do almost all the work herself. And that gets tiring in the long run. And, little by little, his disinterest and routine drove her away from him, to the point where she filed for divorce.

"At least we'll remain good friends..."

"Will "she said, on the verge of tears "you're an idiot. Where are you going to find a wife half as good as me?"

"That's right, Oli: nowhere. I'm so sure of it, that I'm not even going to look for one".

They divorced, and she left, since the lease was in his name. Neither of them owned anything, so there was nothing to divide, not even money. She went back to work as a nurse, and they never saw each other again.

Perhaps there's something for me down there in the South, he told himself while he waited for his visa. But it would have to be something truly valuable to lose the peace and independence I have, without anyone dragging me into stupid arguments that distract me from what I love most, which is doing nothing, walking, and reading, in that order.

On weekends he went to the pub with his friends, although he didn't have many left, because they were all falling into the same trap set by women that he had narrowly escaped with his knack for not doing anything. He also liked to go to boxing matches now and then, with his can of beer in hand, and when he couldn't go to the stadium, he watched them on television from home. But if marriage had changed anything for him, it was the order in which he had everything. Before he got married, he'd leave everything lying around and could never find what he needed in the time he had. Now everything had its place, and every place held something. Now he'd put his four or five cans of beer and three sandwiches on the small table before watching the fights, and when he was done, he'd throw away the cans, wash his plate, drink his glass of warm milk, brush his teeth, and go to bed, because he had to work the next day. And if it was Saturday, on Sunday he'd get up later, go to Mass (since he was Catholic, and although not very devout, his late mother had instilled in him the idea that there was no Sunday without going to the House of the Lord), and then go for a walk in the park. He usually went to the movies in the afternoon, and during siesta time and after the movies, he'd spend hours reading, which was his secret passion. His wife not sharing it had been a decisive factor in his losing interest in her. He was also learning languages, although he found it very difficult. He already mastered French, and now he was getting his hands on German and Spanish.

While waiting for his visa, he went on vacation to various European countries, twice to Germany, which was his favorite, as he felt Germans were more like those from his own country than those from the rest of Europe. Perhaps I won't like the South so much, he told himself while at the Pergamon Museum in Berlin.

And finally, the long-awaited moment arrived when the Ministry of Foreign Affairs sent him a letter with his passport duly stamped and visaed for his trip to the Land of the South, as the union of several countries that had been independent of each other for hundreds of years, until just a few decades prior, was known.

2 Culture clash.

He left London on a gray and foggy morning. It was ten o'clock and it seemed as if dawn hadn't quite broken yet.

Upon arriving at Málaga airport several hours later, he felt as if he were on another planet: the sun was shining, and the blue sky was visible through the few white clouds that adorned it. He watched out the window as the ground drew closer, and suddenly that pavement square with white stripes appeared, along which the plane glided for a short distance before its wheels touched down, with a smooth movement, as she had done a thousand times, and then gradually slowed down until she came to a stop next to the terminal. A moving finger then was attached to her left side (portboard, they call it) so that the passengers could walk to passport control.

There, a very quick process awaited him: there was no queue for the European Union and the rest of the world, but a single queue that moved quickly. He stopped in front of a single, very young policeman, dressed in green, who stamped his passport with the date of entry after a brief exchange:

"Will you be staying long, sir?"

"Huh? Oh, yes: I plan to stay for a month, maybe a little longer".

"You waited a long time to come... I'll stamp it for six months, sir. You know you can leave earlier, right? Don't forget to always carry your passport with you, in case a policeman asks for it in the street. But they're very friendly. Here you go, sir".

And he returned his passport. Will couldn't believe it: after waiting for five years to get there, he only had to get off the plane and show his passport to a policeman who had just informed him that he could stay in the country for six months. And they hadn't asked him to show any money he might be carrying, or on his credit card, as would have been the case in England for a foreigner.

He took a taxi and asked the driver to take him to the Hotel Durán, near the port. He loved the sea, and if he could see it from his hotel room, he would be very happy.

The taxi driver, very kind, helped him carry his suitcases to the hotel, and there he said goodbye.

"Goodbye, sir. Have a pleasant stay in my country".

"Wait, wait, sir. Tell me: what do I owe you?"

The man looked at him very seriously. Then he smiled, as if he'd just heard a familiar joke, and shrugging his shoulders, replied sarcastically:

"Don't worry, my friend. Since it's your first time, it's on the house".

Then he took out a business card and handed it to Will, saying:

"Here you go. If you need me, give me a call, and if I'm free, I'll come and get you. If not, I'll send a trusted colleague".

He got into his car and disappeared, leaving Will speechless. He was in for more surprises. There was something there they hadn't told him at the travel agency.

He grabbed his two suitcases and went into the hotel. At reception, he was greeted by a young woman, more beautiful than plain, with a Grecian nose, brown eyes, and blonde hair pulled back in a bun. She wore a sort of gray uniform, a red shirt and blue tie, with loose-fitting trousers. She looked at him, and with a smile greeted him:

"Good morning, sir...?"

"Webb. William Webb, from London "he said in his rudimentary Spanish".

"Ah, yes, we were expecting you, Mr. Webb. In theory, I can't give you your room until midday, but I'll see if there's one ready..."

"Would it be possible to get me one with a sea view? I love the sea, and I don't mind waiting, miss..."

"Martínez de la Fuente", she said, pointing to the name tag on her chest. "But you can call me Estrella. That's my name".

"Thank you very much, Estrella. Is there a room with a sea view?"

"Mmm, well, yes, you're in luck. Room 104. Right above us. Everyone who comes here wants to see the sea. Don't you have a sea in your countries?" she said with a smile.

She handed him the key and told him where the bar and restaurant were, as well as the tourist brochures that would make his visit to Málaga more productive.

Once settled in his room, he opened the curtains that led to the balcony and sat down in a chair there. He could see the Mediterranean Sea, about which he had heard so much, read so much, and been told so many stories since school. The Mare Nostrum of the Romans, the center of civilization two thousand years ago, so far removed from his native England. The morning was warm, and he suddenly thought that he wouldn't mind living there, in such a mild climate. Oh, after all, houses would have to be built in Málaga too, wouldn't they?

Then she turned toward the room, over which his shadow was cast: it was about 16 square meters, four by four, very bright, with a double bed in the center, and a generous wardrobe. Next to it were a table and a chair, and at the other end of the room there was a dressing table with three drawers and a large mirror, in front of which was a small armchair, and on the third wall, opposite the foot of the bed, was a television mounted on the wall. It'll come in handy for brushing up on my Spanish, he said to himself.

In the bathroom there was a mirror that covered an entire wall. He wasn't in the habit of looking at himself, but when he glanced in the mirror, he couldn't help but doing so, and what he saw didn't entirely displease him: rather short"though he never felt self-conscious about it in a country where the average height for men was almost six feet (1.80 meters)"at 5 feet 3 inches (1.60 meters), rather thin, weighing 9 stone (57 kilos); blond, with very fair skin that reddened in the sun... And with a great sense of humor.

He had a shower, changed his clothes, and went down to the cafeteria. He had breakfast again: toast with butter and jam, orange juice, and coffee with milk, in the local style. As he was leaving the cafeteria, something strange happened to him again:

"Please write this down in my room".

"Very well, sir", the waiter said with a touch of irony. "Good morning, sir".

Seeing that the man wasn't leaving, the waiter asked him again:"

"Would you like anything else, sir?"

"I haven't given you my room number".

"Oh, it's not necessary, sir".

"But... do you know it?"

"Oh, it's not necessary, sir. No problem. Good morning, sir", the waiter said, a little more seriously.

Dismayed, he left the cafeteria and asked the concierge:

"Excuse me, Estrella... they wouldn't charge me at the cafeteria".

"Oh, don't worry, sir. I'll take care of it".

"Thank goodness. I don't understand anything. The taxi driver didn't charge me anything, and now the bartender won't either".

"Perhaps it's because there's no cash register, sir".

"How so?"

"We won't charge you for anything you consume at the hotel, sir. Everything is paid for, don't worry".

"But..., but..., I didn't ask for full board, Estrella. And certainly, they haven't charged me for it".

"Don't worry, sir. We won't charge you for it. You only paid for the round-trip plane ticket from London to Malaga, I know".

"But..., you're not going to charge me for full board when I leave, are you?"

"We're not going to charge you anything, sir".

"I don't understand. And I don't believe it either..."

"Well, I see they didn't explain it to you in your country. It happens. Look, I get off work at eight. If you're around, I'll treat you to a drink at that bar across the street; it has a really cool terrace, and I'll tell you all about it. Damn, I don't know why they don't explain these things in their home country. Then people get overwhelmed the first few days here.

3 Welcome to the Land of the South.

At eight o'clock in the evening, Will was at the hotel reception. He had walked around the city center for a while, looking at the shops and streets, and then returned to the hotel restaurant for lunch. It wasn't anything extraordinary, but he had enjoyed the food: lentils for the first course, and fried fish for the second. Fruit for dessert, and a coffee to finish. Afterward, he had gone for another stroll through the city. He loved Larios Street, with its monument, and while admiring them, he ate an ice cream on a terrace. Then he went to Plaza Tempered of the Hours, formerly called Plaza de la Constitución and renamed after the last President of the Old Regime and the first of the New one; then he passed by a series of traditional bars, promising himself he would eat at some of them in the coming days, and arrived in time to see the Cathedral, a true architectural monument, Gothic, Renaissance, and Baroque styled at the same time, as it took them as many centuries to build.

At that moment, Estrella was finishing her shift and giving an update to Andrés, the night concierge.

"Wait for me at El Centollo, William. I'll get ready in a moment and be with you in 20 minutes".

The afternoon was pleasant, and Will enjoyed a beer with a plate of marinated sardines while he waited for Estrella and the promised lesson about the Land of the South.

They say women take forever to dress and get ready for dates, but Estrella finished the changeover with the night concierge, Adrián, and five minutes earlier than she had promised, she was with Will, having a beer at El Centollo. She had showered, and her damp hair was still cascading down her back, almost bare beneath a pale pink sleeveless shirt. She completed her outfit with loose-fitting jeans, though not as baggy as her uniform trousers. In all, she looked like an attractive young woman, though not scandalous.

"Well, Estrella, you said you were going to explain this non-charge thing to me. But first, don't call me William. William was my father. I prefer you call me Will", he said, tacitly switching to a more informal speech.

"Very well, Will. Listen carefully, please: while you're here, no one is going to charge you for anything, even if it surprises you so much".

"What? Why?"

"Well... let's just say we don't believe in money here".

"You're all crazy!"

"Maybe. I think that's why we left Europe... or we were kicked out, I don't remember".

"So, how do people make a living here?"

"You'll see... Don't worry about it, Will: enjoy your holidays. And when you go back to England, don't talk about us as badly as you English always have".

"Well..., in England, you don't get free taxi rides, or meals in restaurants, or tapas in bars".

"Well, next time it's your turn to treat me, Will. A meal would be nice".

"Hey, are you asking me out, Estrella?"

"Even better: I'll show you all this, if you want. Although you can find another guide if you don't like me".

"I think you're fantastic, friend".

"Well then, let me introduce you to my country. And you can ask me anything you want".

"Well, since you're offering, tell me, how much you earn for being a receptionist eight hours a day?"

"Ha, well, look: nothing".

"What do you mean, nothing? Do you work for free?"

"Haha, not really, but yes: I've received so much from my people, and so the least I can do is return the favor as best I can".

"And how long have you been doing this?"

"Oh, not long. A couple of years".

"And what did you do before?"

"My doctorate".

"What? You studied at university?!"

"Yes, I did. Here in Málaga, we have two very good ones".

"What did you get your PhD in?"

"Visigothic Art. Did you know that German and Spanish art are related through the Goths?"

"And a PhD in something so specialized ends up as a hotel receptionist... How do you explain that?"

"Well, I did my internship here because it was easier to explain our culture to foreigners that way, and then I enjoyed the experience, and I'll stay here until I get tired of it and do something else".

"Oh, isn't it because of unemployment?"

"There's no unemployment in this country, Will".

"What? Would I have a job every day of the year here, as a bricklayer?"

"Certainly. And nobody would discriminate against you with your salary. You'd earn the same as me", Estrella laughed. "This is the only country in the world with a standard salary for everyone. We used to call it the minimum living wage: zero escudos".

"Well, working for nothing... not really. That's a no-go".

"Do you always make ends meet in England?"

"Well, if I'm careful, yes".

"Here I nI don't take any precautions, and I always make it to the end of the month".

"But... what luxuries can you afford?"

"I take the days off I want, within what I consider reasonable. Although I live in the hotel for convenience, I could live in a charming one-bedroom apartment, with everything I need for my life and leisure. I can travel anywhere in the country, and if I prefer going abroad, I can join the concerning waiting list. Every year, a thousand of us can go abroad"ten thousand if it's to Iberoamerica"respecting the local customs and traditions of the places we go, of course. Otherwise, we're taken off the list forever. And we are about to achieve free movement between the whole Hispanosphere for goods and people, which puts us in a much better position than when we were part of the Europe of Merchants, which is what we call the European Union here".

"But if you go to England, for example, how do you pay for things?"

"A month in England is supposed need two thousand pounds sterling. Depending on the country, that's the amount they give me on my credit card. But if I run out of money before then, I call the nearest Consulate, and after explaining why I ran out early, they send me a money order, or an official comes to pick me up and takes me to the airport to go home, at the consul's discretion".

"Did you go to many countries?"

"All the Scandinavian countries, Russia, and Germany. But that last one doesn't count, because it was part of my university education. To go to Germany, I didn't have to be on any waiting list; I just had to pass my subjects in my first year, and then in my fifth year to return for longer periods, and to specific places and activities, not tourism".

"All this makes me dizzy, Estrella. If an Englishman lived here, he could take advantage of you without ever working, I assure you. Tell me, why do you work if you get everything for free?"

"Wow, I see you don't know anything about us, Will. It's a matter of upbringing. From a young age, we're taught the values ​​of solidarity, altruism, generosity, and the importance of repaying our debt to society: we're given the language, the way of thinking, the society we live in, our history, the freedom to do whatever we want..., happiness, in short, and in return, we must do what we can, no more, to maintain the system. And we receive what we need, no less. That means there are no frivolous whims, but rather a desire to please, to support others, and that is our greatest reward. And all of that is worth"I can assure you"more than a million pounds a month. I suppose that's what is meant by empathy. We are raised with solidarity and empathy. That's why we all love this country, and we defend it every day from our jobs. Let's say our work position is our own trench".

Will remained silent for a few minutes after Estrella's long explanation, taking the opportunity to take a long swig of his beer.

"I know all this is hard to grasp, Will. I don't understand why they didn't explain it to you in England. So, tell me, why did you come to this country?"

"For the sun, the joy, the flamenco, the bullfights, I don't know..., I'd heard great things about it all".

"Well, let's not be so serious. I'll take you to the movies, and then if you'd like, we can get something to eat".

"Shall we eat? "Ah, yes, I've been told you can have dinner here at midnight without a care in the world".

"You can eat here all day long, Will, if you know where to go".

They went to see a somewhat old historical film, from only about five years before, in which they laughed a lot at the absurd things the ancients did in the 21st century.

Afterwards, they went to dinner at a seafood restaurant near the hotel, and finally Estrella said goodbye, as she had to work the morning shift the next day.

Will went to bed exhausted. I'll think about all this tomorrow, he told himself.

4 The Tourist.

The next day, Will woke up very late. The cathedral bells were ringing for noon when he opened his eyes.

His mind was a blur. What happened last night? Oh, yes, he'd spent the afternoon with the receptionist. Strange country, where the hotel employee mingles with the guests... Of course, he no longer knew if he was a guest, a visitor, a friend..., or all three, or none of them. Estrella had treated him like an old friend. Yes, they'd clicked from the start.

He went down to reception, but she wasn't there. There was another woman, an older one named Yolanda.

"Good morning. And Estrella? Hasn't she come in today?"

"No, sir. She finished her shift and left. Now it's my turn, until eight in the evening. What can I do for you?"

"Oh, no, nothing. I'd got used to seeing her here, that's all. And do you know when she'll be back?"

"She won't be back until tomorrow, sir. Although I can't tell you what time, because she might have some errands to run and send a substitute until she arrives. If there's anything I can do to help..."

That did seem odd to him...

"Excuse me..., but is it normal for the receptionist to be running errands?"

"Receptionist? You're mistaken, sir. Estrella isn't just any receptionist. She's the hotel manager".

"Oh, but she told me... no, that's right, we talked about her working here, but we didn't say in what position. You're right. So she'll be here tomorrow, then?"

"Probably, sir. But aren't you going to explore the city, or the province?"

"Yes, that would be nice. Do you know where I can rent a car?"

"Should I call a taxi?"

"Oh, no, ma'am. I want to drive myself".

"A car without a driver. Any preferences?"

"As long as it has four wheels, I'm happy, Yolanda, thank you".

The woman made a couple of phone calls, and ten minutes later the car was there.

"But you didn't tell me how much the car costs per day".

"Hehe, you're funny. Oh, yes, Estrella already told me... don't worry, we'll put it on your account. Don't worry, you can pay it before you leave, Mr. Webb".

Of course, yes, the hotel bill... Will remembered that strange conversation with Estrella.

That car was new, with barely five thousand kilometers on it. It was red, small, about three meters long, unknown in England. The make was Kyria, and the model, Cordura. According to Yolanda, that car was very good, and above all, safe. Made in Spain. Perhaps he didn't know it because it wasn't usually exported.

5 Adventure in Seville.

That car wasn't very big, but it was more than enough for what he intended to do. Its small trunk could hold his suitcase and a few other souvenirs.

He took the key Yolanda offered him and got into the car. But the steering wheel was on the wrong side. He immediately remembered that in this country they drove on the right, the opposite to his own, so the steering wheel had to be on the left to better control the traffic. He would try driving on the right...

He started the engine and pulled onto the road. He thought this country was full of highways, but he didn't see any. Traffic was very light, and the road that connected Málaga with Seville, or anywhere else for that matter, only had two lanes: one going and one coming back. He didn't see any speed limit signs, so he set the car to its maximum speed, which was 100 kilometers per hour. But he got a little scared when he came across a truck and slowed down to a prudent speed of 70 km/h, so it took him a bit longer to complete the 200 kilometers between the two capitals: just under 3 hours.

He was surprised to see that he could park next to the Cathedral without any problems. He didn't see any signs prohibiting it, although there were very few cars around. He couldn't find the mechanism to lock the doors, so he got out of the car to visit the city leaving them unlocked. When he returned several hours later, he saw that his car was still there, untouched, which surprised him greatly. In England, he told himself, it would have been towed within ten minutes, even though there are many more cars per capita there.

Yes, it had been a very interesting visit. He had eaten at a typical restaurant, enjoying freshly caught fish from Cádiz, as the waiter had said. Then he visited the famous Giralda tower, reaching its upper balconies with some difficulty via the series of ramps that lead to them. From there, he took several photos with his phone to send to his friends, much to their envy. Afterward, he strolled to the Torre del Oro (Tower of Gold), so named because it housed the gold brought back from the Americas by the conquistadores since the 16th century, and then to the Triana neighborhood, where the Virgin of Macarena "actually called María Santísima de la Esperanza Macarena Coronada (or Very holy Maria of the Macarena crowned Hope)" of Seville had been kept for centuries.

He returned to his car after a snack at a nearby café, and after refueling at a gas station, he began the journey back. But, of course, night fell on him as he drove. He wasn't used to driving so late, and the logical thing would have been to stop in a town and sleep in a hotel along the way, but he told himself he wanted to sleep in the beautiful city of Málaga, and so he continued, but he did so more slowly and with a hundred pairs of eyes, as they say in this country.

Until tragedy struck: he suddenly saw two lights approaching him very quickly, and his conditioned reflexes betrayed him: he instinctively swerved to the left, and the oncoming vehicle, an articulated truck, honked its horn insistently, so he ended up off the road as the truck drove away. All six airbags deployed, and after checking that he was okay, with nothing broken, he got out of the car. Two tires were flat, and the front end was crumpled like an accordion. He tried to start it, but the engine was dead.

What am I to do now? he thought to himself.

He looked for the car's docuentation, but besides the list of specifications and the rental agreement, he found nothing else. How could the car not be insured? Instead of a phone number for the insurance company, he found a hotel business card.

Distraught, he called the number, and Adrián answered.

"Ah, it's you". the man said calmly. "We were expecting you tomorrow. Just a moment, the manager's on".

After a few seconds of waiting, he heard the familiar voice of the manageress of the Hotel Durán:

"Hello, Will. This is Estrella. How can I help you".

Will summarized what had just happened to him in a few words and with a contrite voice.

"Ah, okay, don't worry. The important thing is that you're all right. Send me your location, and we'll send someone to bring you the vehicle and pick it up".

Those people were very efficient, because thirty minutes later a tow truck arrived and took the vehicle and the driver to the next town, Puebla de Cazalla. A taxi was waiting for him there and took him to Málaga.

The driver was a very nice young man who spoke English and kept him company the whole way.

"You made a mistake driving yourself, d'you know? They drive differently here than in your country. And that's what taxi drivers are for. Call us when you need one".

It took a little over an hour upon arriving at the hotel.

"I know", Will said upon arrival", the fare will be charged to my hotel account".

The taxi driver smiled. He wished him goodnight and left to pick up another fare.

"Don't people like to drive in this country?", he asked Estrella as soon as he arrived at the hotel.

"Hehe, let's just say everyone here does what they do best".

"By the way, I suppose I will have to pay for the car, right? Goodbye to my vacation".

"Why do you say that?"

"Because the car wasn't insured. They should have told me, but I should have asked too. They gave me the key and said, There's the car", just like that. And now I have this problem.

"This isn't England, Will. You don't have to pay anything.

"What? But the damage..., the car's been completely crumpled. I don't think it can be fixed".

"It doesn't matter. It was a nasty accident. The important thing is that you're okay. Anyway, you should go to the hospital, to check for any internal injuries. Sometimes these things don't give you any warning until it's too late".

"Hospital? No, I feel fine. A little dizzy at first, but it's gone, no".

"If you like, a bellboy can accompany you. That way we'll feel more at ease".

She insisted so much that he had to give in. He figured the woman didn't want any trouble for anyone dying at her hotel.

The bellboy, a friendly young man named Manuel who only did this job during the summers since he was still a teenager, told him some anecdotes from the school he still attended "he was fifteen" which Will found incredible, but amusing.

At the hospital, they ran several tests, including a scan, a blood and a urine test.

"It seems everything is fine, sir". the doctor, a man in his fifties, told him, "but we've detected a factor in your blood that could cause you problems in the future. Your blood, let's say, is too thick. I advise you to take this pill I'm prescribing once a day".

"But I fine, doctor. I've never been to a doctor in my life. I haven't even had a headache, a toothache, or anything".

"Well, Mr. Will, just because it hasn't happened to you doesn't mean it won't. If you don't take it, perhaps nothing will happen to you in your entire life, but there's a possibility that you could have a heart attack, a stroke, or a cerebral hemorrhage at any moment. If it had happened while you were driving, you would have killed yourself, perhaps taking someone else's life with you".

That worried Will a lot. So much so that he took the bottle of pills the doctor offered him.

"Remember, sir: once a day. The effect is immediate, but if you stop, the effect expires immediately too. Don't get overconfident. I recommend you have a blood test every six months, just to be sure you're okay".

Worried, he returned to the hotel. He wasn't paying much attention to Manuel anymore, who kept talking nonstop for a while, until he saw that the Englishman wasn't really there, lost in his thoughts.

When he arrived at the hotel, he didn't see Estrella at reception. Adrián was still there. He walked past him and went straight to the dining room, where he consoled himself with a stew and grilled grouper, crowning his private feast with a banana and ice cream, which in his town they called a banana split, because it was actually cut lengthwise.

Then he went up to his room and fell into a deep sleep that lasted until ten o'clock the next morning. He went out onto the balcony, from which he could see the port and, a little further on, the sea.

A cruise ship was just entering Pier One, an enormous vessel carrying thousands of passengers. It had never occurred to him to take a cruise. Those people would only be in the city for a few hours, but they hadn't had to wait for five years to enter the country, as he had, even though it was true that they would only be there for a few hours. Later he would be told that it had come from Cartagena, as it was on a Mediterranean cruise, and that before the city in Murcia, it had stopped in Barcelona and Valencia, having come from Nice.

Yes, he liked the sea, but he had never traveled by ship. Cruises were very expensive, but he could save enough to take one in the future. He also wondered if the locals could take them. Estrella had told her they could go abroad on vacation, but she hadn't said how.

Suddenly the phone rang. It was her friend, the hotel manageress.

"Guillermo? It's Estrella. How are you feeling".

"Oh, hi, Estrella. Very well. What can I do for you".

"I'm going to take a half-hour break. If that works for you, we can chat for a while".

"Oh, sure. Wait, I'll be right down".

"Great. I'll wait for you in the hotel café. What can I get you".

"Heh, I've always wanted to try what they call an asiátic. here, is that possible".

"Coming right up. Don't be long.

6 Some Uncomfortable Questions.

When he arrived at the café, the waitress was bringing him the Asian coffee, actually a cocktail of coffee, condensed milk, Licor 43, brandy, and several coffee beans with a pinch of cinnamon.

"Oh, hello", she greeted him.

"I'm surprised you called me".

"I just wanted to know how the tenant was doing... I don't want you to give us a scare".

"Hehe, yes, I suppose somebody died in one of your rooms before".

"No, not in ours, but it happened before".

"And what happens, in that event?"

"It's a hassle: the police come, the forensic experts, the judge..., then we have to locate the family and get instructions on what to do with the body".

"I thought that was the police's job".

"Well, it's different here. The hotel is the closest thing to family, officially speaking".

"And what if the family doesn't show up?"

"Then the hotel takes care of burying them in the nearest cemetery once the coroner finishes the autopsy. But I'm telling you, it's not very common".

"Well, yes, the hotel doesn't seem very big".

"We have five guests now, even though we have 20 rooms. It's not peak season. Maybe that's why they authorized you to come so soon".

"Soon? It took me five years!"

"Don't complain, some people have taken longer. Not everyone who wants to can come. Some never make it.

"It's hard to believe. This country used to thrive on tourism. Millions of tourists came".

"Yes, but that was a disaster. Renting and hotel prices went up, and there was social unrest: it wasn't right that the locals couldn't make a living because they had to squeeze money out of visitors. And those who wanted to change the regime took advantage of that, as you may know. Besides, the money went to vulture funds, which were all foreign: almost all Americans, but also British and German".

"And they didn't set you up?"

"Of course. They were the ones behind the European Union's machinations".

"Well, that's not what people know out there. What we know about this country is that it used to be a top tourist destination, but one day the government changed and closed the border. The European Community kicked them out and imposed an economic and trade embargo, but then Russia and China came along with their own trade agreements, and later Hispanic America, so the EC was left high and dry.

"Hehe, that's part of what happened. I wasn't even born yet, but they taught us in school that we were on the verge of having to repel a second French invasion", you know, the first one was the one that idiot Napoleon orchestrated— but in the end, the French didn't have the guts to come here. The Russians and the Chinese, but above all the South Americans, established trade relations, and we revitalized our agriculture, livestock, mining, and industry. We were able to completely bypass that Europe of bureaucrats, and as for those down below, our African neighbors, they calmed down when they saw we had ten new aircraft carriers and a fleet of submarines", actually two hundred— from which they deduced that they could never cross the Strait.

"Wow, you guys really had guts about that".

"But there was more: instead of Catalonia becoming independent, as the posh kids there occasionally threatened, Portugal and Andorra joined us. And instead of Spain, as some insisted, or Iberia, as others wanted, we finally adopted the more cheerful name of Land of the South, and instead of Portuguese, Spanish, or Andorran, we are all Southerners now. Although some say we should be called Sudetes, which is the unofficial term, a clear dig at the Nazis.

"The Nazis..., but what political parties do you have?"

"We, the Southern people, have none. We vote directly for every one of our members of parliament", or abstain, depending on their behavior— and then they join", or not— the political party they want, knowing that favoring their party at our expense is punishable by imprisonment.

"That's good. I wish that happened in England".

"Well, because you don't want to. The success of Tempered of the Hours was precisely in having the people involved when changing the Constitution. And it was changed again five years later, to solve everyone's financial problem.

"How so?"

"By abolishing money.

"Wow, you surprise me. I thought the name was a euphemism, but I see it's true: The Land of the South. And now this about money".

"Well, at some point you must have been told that State is not the same as Country or Nation. The problem we had before, in the Old Regime, was that money was everything. And that was ruining the country and especially the nation, or rather..., all citizens. The problem wasn't the capitalists or the thieves, but money itself. That's where Tempered's merit lay: he pointed out the problem and convinced people that once the dog", that is, money— was dead, the rabies", that is, the crisis, poverty, and, above all, debt— would end.

"And the State, as you say..."

"It practically disappeared. It's been reduced to civil servants who serve the people and have forgotten about lining their pockets with something that doesn't exist", in fact, it never did: money was nothing more than a convention the function of which was to enslave those at the bottom to enrich those at the top, who ended up being pawns of the multinationals".

"But there's still a government..."

"Well, let's say that out of the 18 that once existed, only one remains, the one they used to call the national government, as if the nation had ever had anything to do with it. Now the nation", that is, all Southerners— own the country", that is, this place you want to see— and here, what the people", that is, all of us— decide, directly or indirectly, is done. And any government that tries to do otherwise doesn't last 48 hours in office".

"Does the army depose it?"

"There is no army".

"So?"

"Well, there are technicians who maintain the war machines we have. But we all have a pistol and a submachine gun at home, and if the Fatherland calls us, we'll take to the hills (as we say around here) ready to defend every square inch of land. But we've never been called".

"At what age can you have firearms?"

"Since we prove we know how to use them".

"So a twelve-year-old boy could have a gun and kill someone".

"That boy", she said very seriously— would have to prove more than just a good aim".

Will noticed she was a little tense, but even so, he continued with the two questions that had formed in his mind, the one that had just occurred to him, and the one that had been nagging at him since he had spoken about the abolition of money:

"What else, then?"

"His emotional stability, his values, his psychological balance... These are a series of very important tests".

"And does everyone pass them?"

"Not everyone, but the vast majority do. That's why you could say that we Southerners have a far superior army to most countries, and of course, more troops than the rest of Europe combined".

"But you don't practice..."

"Yes, we do. Every two years we spend a month on land, sea, and air maneuvers. Besides, we have several satellites orbiting up there, watching over us. In reality, if we had to take to the hills, it would be because we'd lost the great battle, the one fought from space. And since the other countries know this, we're at ease".

"Star Wars, as President Reagan called it".

"Yes, but that guy was boasting. Ours is the real deal".

"I'm surprised the other world powers haven't shot them down. I mean the satellites".

"They've tried, but they failed. At those distances, you can see the weapons coming from afar, and the counterattacks are very effective. We already took away their satellites once, until the Moscow Peace Treaty was signed, which ended the Space War 10 years ago. Now everyone can have satellites, but not space weapons flying around up there. Besides, they know that if we go down, they go down too".

"Damn, you're not going to tell me you have the atomic bomb?"

"Wow, that's old-fashioned. We have other, more effective things, Will. We don't need atomic bombs. Look: we have ways to make the ones they have at their bases explode, or to shut down their reactors as soon as they reach 100 meters above the ground, so they explode in their country, not ours. I'm not very familiar with that technology, and I couldn't explain it to you, but I've seen tests on abandoned islets on the other side of the world, with missiles that don't have nuclear warheads, of course. We neither have it nor do we want it".

"Uh..., I didn't know you had islets in the Pacific".

"And we don't. But, to be honest, we didn't ask permission from the supposed owners of that area either. After all, the Americans and the British stole them from the Spanish in the past, and now we don't recognize anyone's rights over that area. We use it when it suits us, and if they don't agree..., well, tough luck. It serves them right to have stolen them in the past".

"But..., you haven't explained this thing about devoting votes for a government that doesn't comply".

"Oh, yes. Just as we elect the President of the Government, the people can force the deputies to withdraw their confidence and the President to call legislative and executive elections, at which point all the ministers", who here are nothing more than five secretaries assisting the President in enforcing the laws— are dismissed. The deputies and judges suffer the same fate:If the people withdraw their vote, they are removed from office, and others are elected, although that is a faster process, because in both cases they are elected by constituencies. It could be that a single deputy is replaced, or a small group of them, or all of them, depending on how they treat us, the people. Neither the Government nor the President of the Republic, nor the Cortes (Parliament) can call elections to the Cortes Generales (General Parliament). Each district calls them on its own when it deems it appropriate, or every four years. And the elected deputy knows that he or she is not there to defend his or her own ideas, but the well-being of their district".

"So..., then there are never any general elections here".

"You've hit the nail on the head: when a district is satisfied with a deputy, it doesn't want to change them. That's why, for a new candidate to run, they must have objectively better qualifications than the current one. And if a representative ceases to be useful to their district, an election is forced only in that district, and the candidate is chosen from among all those who run, although those currently in office also have the right to run".

"When was the last election in this district, then?"

"Ten years ago. Representative Juan Manuel Noriega López is good, and people are happy with him..."

That woman knew much more than she was letting on, or at least that's how Will interpreted it. But she didn't mind telling him, without knowing whether he was an English spy or not. But from what she said, that was common knowledge in that country. Anyone could tell him.

"I find that hard to believe, Estrella. So, here politics is secondary, and you're a military woman, in part".

"Hehe, the system works on its own, and yes, you could say I'm a soldier, even if I don't look like it. But this is a great country, Will, worth fighting for. We live well, we don't have problems, there's no frustration or envy, which were the two evils of Spain and Portugal, apart from the political class.

She smiled again, as she had her milky coffee and the cookies that made up her six o'clock afternoon snack. Curious people, Southerners... Affable, affectionate, but from what he saw, woe betide anyone who crossed them".

"And how did you manage to change things? Did Tempered of the Hours arrive one day with his great idea and everyone adopted it?"

She let out a laugh that made the people in the café look at them both.

Then, more calmly, since he wasn't laughing at all, she continued:

"No, man. Of course there was resistance from those with money. Inside and outside the country. But those at the bottom were far more numerous. Tempered's political party, called Iberian Renewal, won an absolute majority in the last elections of that party-based regime. And the first thing the new government did was call constituent elections: the constitution had to be changed, and it had to be changed immeditely, but not just any old way. And instead of taking the German one as a model, they took the American one of 1776 and the French one of 1789, but above all the Constitution of Cádiz of 1812, and after five referendums that followed as many proposed constitutions, they finally adopted the current one, more complete than those three, and better adapted to our idiosyncrasies".

"Of course. The Fourth Spanish Republic".

"True. Some say the first two weren't, so this is the second, but anyway, we'll call this one the Fourth. And the President of the Republic still has direct command of the virtual army, that is, an army that doesn't exist, or won't exist until the nation needs it, and then the President will take command, appointing the most capable to direct the strategy and stop those who want to mess with us. During the Star Wars, that is, the satellite wars, President Asín appointed the General Staff officers whose greatest success was choosing the most capable engineers who designed the most unpredictable evasion and attack algorithms that gave us the victory. For years, the only satellites that kept orbiting up there were ours, until all the countries signed the Defensive Satellite Non-Proliferation Agreement. As a result of that agreement, there are only ten military satellites up there, all of them ours, and of the three hundred civilian ones, 50% are of Southern origin. Every time one is launched, it's carefully scanned before it even reaches its orbit, and if we suspect it's not what it claims, it's taken out of orbit and set on a course for the Sun".

"A curious people, indeed. But everyone has a shotgun at home, just in case..."

"That shotgun is the safeguard. In this country, sovereignty belongs to the people, not the government or the members of parliament".

"Ah, of course, yes, like in England".

"I notice you always say England instead of the United Kingdom.

"That's true. But... what is the UK, if not England and its provinces?", he laughed.

"Heh, if a Welshman or Scotsman hears you, maybe he would feel offended".

"No way. By now, they've pretty much accepted it. What surprises me is that it's not the same here, that you're not all Spaniards, instead of Southerners. After all, Spain once dominated the whole world, or almost, while Portugal took care of a few countries, and the other regions of the Iberian Peninsula didn't get a single crumb".

"Hehe, we've mixed so much over the years that we've all internalized the history of Spain, Portugal, Andorra, and all the other places on the Iberian Peninsula. We're all Southerners", whatever our origins— and regionalism lost the battle more than fifty years ago, when it became clear that it was just a way for a few crooks to get rich off the naiveté of others. Remember, too, that we're one nation, even though we used to live in three different states. We have been united since Roman times, we have been united for over two thousand years. And we will continue to be united, because now we are more united than ever".

"Well, the political question is hard to believe... but the other one is impossible for me".

"Oh, really? Which one?"

"The abolition of money".

She smiled. She finished her coffee, and looking him straight in the eye, she asked:

"So, tell me, Will: how much would they charge you in the UK for that Asian thing you're having?"

"Well, I don't know... they don't have it there. But at least ten pounds".

"And what could you buy in your country with ten pounds?"

"Well, I don't know. They could give me a language class, or a meal at a reasonably priced restaurant. Or a ten-trip metro pass..."

"So, different things, different prices".

"Yes".

"Here, everything costs the same".

"Which is...?"

"What you can do, no more, no less".

"And in return you receive..."

"What you need, no more, no less".

"And who decides that, what you need and what you can do?"

"The best judge there is: yourself".

"Ha, I can decide that I need everything, and that I can't do anything".

"If you become a quadriplegic, go into a coma, or become disabled in an accident, the rest of us will take care of you. And we all know that".

"I'm not talking about that. I'm talking about the scoundrels who take advantage of others, like those politicians you had before".

"They'll face the toughest court they'll ever know. And the sentence won't be minimal, no".

"Oh, really? And who's on that court?"

"Themselves, the scoundrels. You see, without money, they can't hoard other people's hard work in a safe. They'll have to use it at the right time and place, and it will all be out in the open. No one will condemn them, or put them in jail, but they will feel displaced, they will see that their place is not here, and when they can no longer bear being singled out in the eyes of others, each of them will end up leaving for another country, or will become just one of us".

"I don't know, I don't know, I'm not convinced by the idea… What about that old saying that for every Spaniard who works, there are seven watching?"

"Hehe, what you say about the onlookers, it's an old cliché. If you stay among us, you might discover that you're the only one watching…"

She paused briefly, then suddenly looked at her watch and stood up, saying:

"Oh, I have to get back to work. But look, I advise you to do one thing: go for a walk around the country, stay as long as you like, and then decide if we're crazy, or if you'd like to stay and be one of us".

"Are you talking about becoming a citizen?"

"You wouldn't be the first. Well, I have to go, goodbye".

And she left him high and dry. Alexia, the waitress, came to take away the cups and plates they had used, and he went out for a stroll around the port.

He needed to process all the information that woman had just given him. Yes, it had taken him five years to come and get to know this country, and now it seemed like he didn't know it at all. Estrella had told him about impossible things, about a utopia. A world without money..., where had anyone ever seen that? And yet, the currency, the escudo, existed. It had been the currency of Portugal, but now it belonged to the entire Land of the South, and it was worth 25 US dollars. But he hadn't seen one since he'd arrived.

Someone would have to explain it to him before he left this strange country. So strange, in fact, that he was beginning to like it...

7 The Tour around the Land of the South.

He spent the rest of the day strolling through the city center, then went to the port, and had a coffee watching the ships come and go. Some day, he told himself, I have to go on one of those cruises.

Then he walked back. Estrella wasn't there. It was Yolanda's shift for the night, and she greeted him with a smile.

"Yolanda", he said, "I'm going on a trip tomorrow. I want to drive around the Iberian Peninsula".

"Very well, sir. I'll make a note of that".

"I'd like you to tell me about the trains or buses".

"You have a handout with all that information in your room, sir". But if you'd like to explore the Iberian Peninsula at your own pace, I'd advise you to rent a car... or—at that moment she remembered the Kyria Cordura, and with a smile added—I'd recommend taking a taxi. It'll cost you about the same as a self-drive car, and you'll be more entertained.

"Oh, yes, I know a taxi driver... I think I have his card in my room. Thank you, Yolanda, see you later. Good night".

As soon as he got to his room, he looked in the bedside table drawer, and there was the card:

He phoned him, and after a brief conversation, they agreed that he would pick him up the next day at ten in the morning.

Since he already knew Seville, this time the trip was along the coast, admiring the shores of the Mediterranean Sea, which he had dreamed of so many times in rainy Albion. Eliah was an interesting conversationalist, and they soon became comfortable enough to tell each other about their lives.

"So, have you seen what Malaga has to offer tourists?"

"I suppose I've missed some things, but I'll see them when I get back".

"Oh, okay. What have you seen?"

"So far, I've liked what I've seen. I've been to the Picasso Museum, the Thyssen, and I've also seen the Roman Theatre. But what I've liked most are the beaches. It's a shame I haven't been able to see a bullfight".

"Oh, no, it's not the season. Are you staying long, Will?"

"Initially a month, but I might stay a bit longer".

They drove leisurely along the coastal road, passing through Benalmádena, Fuengirola, and Marbella, and stopped in Estepona for lunch. Then they continued on to Gibraltar, where they entered on foot, and Will felt right at home. It no longer belonged to Great Britain, but the town councils of Gibraltar and neighboring La Línea de la Concepción had merged into one, agreeing to maintain the traditions, roots, and unique character of the Rock. Its inhabitants were all bilingual, most of them native English speakers, which had attracted people from all over the Iberian Peninsula. They had created an original and atypical city, which was actually the second most populated in the province, after the capital, Cádiz.

"How did this stop being British property, Eliah?", Will asked as they passed through what had been the entrance gate.

"I honestly don't know, Will. All I know is that shortly after leaving the European Community, the Gibraltarians were invited to join the Land of the South, and they, being practical people, found no reason not to accept the invitation, and plenty of drawbacks to refuse. England was no longer what it once was, and the Land of the South's military power was such that by the time reinforcements from the mother country arrived", if they ever did— there would be nothing left to do. But anyway, that's ancient history; I suppose my grandfather exaggerated a bit when he told me that story".

They spent the rest of the day in that former relic of the British Empire, and the next morning they continued on to Chiclana, where they swam at the beach, and in the afternoon they visited San Fernando and spent the night in Cádiz, La tasita de plata (the little silver cup), as the locals call it.

As soon as they arrived, they looked for a hotel and then went to Plaza de Santo Cristo, where there was a fried fish stand. Each of them took their paper cone and ate it around the port, admiring the city center.

The next morning they visited the cathedral, the Pópulo neighborhood, the Roman Theatre, and Plaza de San Juan de Dios. They climbed the Tavira Tower, from where you can see a good panoramic view of the city, which is actually a peninsula connected to the mainland by the San Fernando road, which in turn is an island connected to the mainland by a sandbar. In the afternoon they saw Santa Catalina Castle, and back at the hotel, they had dinner at the restaurant and went to sleep, exhausted from the day's excitement.

The next day they went to see the mouth of the Guadalquivir River in Sanlúcar de Barrameda, and from there, along a local road rarely used...

They passed several beaches, but stopped at the one called Clérigos, which they liked better than the others they had seen. There they met Branca and Sada, two very friendly local girls sunbathing in bikinis. They had some drinks with them, and almost immediately they went home.

"The bad thing about money not existing", Will said to Eliah, "is that we can no longer treat a couple of pretty girls like these, so it's harder to pick up girls..."

"Hehe, Will, you'll learn to do it the Southern way. Remember that old song...: To make love properly, you have to go South..."

After a few laughs, they went to eat at a beach bar called O Lisboeta, and then continued their journey north to Lisbon, where they arrived four hours later, after crossing the Los Lagos de San Andrés Nature Reserve.

"This country is full of nature parks", Will said as they left the reserve.

"That's right. We have a very favorable combination for it: rivers, climate, aquifers... and very fertile land, although occasionally it isn't in some places".

When they arrived in Lisbon it was already night. They barely had time to find a hotel and rest.

The next morning, our English friend received some unexpected news:

"Will, I can't keep driving you. I was supposed to tell you this when we left Andalusia, in Ayamonte, but I thought I could do the circuit with you. However, I've just got a call from Malaga, and I have to go back".

"Oh. What shall I do now? Do I come back with you?"

"Oh, no, no need. I've already found a replacement. It's a woman, by the way. Ainhoa das Cortes. She'll be here in an hour. When she's here, I'll go back home. She knows Lisbon like the back of her hand, and she'll take you at least through the area that used to be Portugal, maybe even as far as northern Galicia".

"And then what? I was planning to explore the outskirts and end up in Madrid before heading back to Málaga to catch my flight..."

"Don't worry, man. I imagine they'll provide another taxi for you when you cross into the region. That way you'll meet more people. And if not, you can always take a train back to Málaga if you get tired of seeing so much of the Land of the South".

Ainhoa was a small girl with sun-tanned skin, jet-black hair gathered in two braids wrapped several times around her head, lively, easy to talk to, and best of all, she spoke perfect English. She had lived in London for two years, she told him, because her father had been consul in Birmingham.

After the introductions, Eliah said goodbye and left in his sedan, but not before wishing Will a pleasant trip and hoping to see him again in Málaga before he went back for England.

"And have you been a taxi driver for a while, Ainhoa?"

"Me? A couple of years. Didn't I tell you? This is the first time I leave Lisbon".

"Well, I'd like you to show me around the city first. It has a lot of history, doesn't it?"

"Yes, it does. As much as Spain, or more".

"Heh, you're Portuguese, I see".

"Not exactly. My father is from Lisbon. Well, I suppose that makes me Portuguese by birth, too, although my mother is from Ávila. I was born there, lived there, studied there, and worked there for a few years, until I decided to travel the country, and after living in one place for a while, I move on to another".

"Perks of being a taxi driver", he said, winking. "And why do you say that about Portugal?"

"I know the history of both countries. And of my own, of course, the Land of the South, where I was born. I have a degree in Geography and History, although I didn't get around to doing a doctorate, which I haven't ruled out yet. Anyway, I'm young, and I can still do it, I suppose..."

"Can you go back to university whenever you want?"

"Of course. Many people do it after working for a few years. There's no age limit for that".

"Can anyone do it at any time?"

"If more than five years have passed since you left university, they give you an adaptation exam... But I don't know, I don't think I'll go back. At 30, I think I've had enough of that. But don't think me wrong, sometimes I feel I should go back and study something else. You've touched a nerve...", she said, pausing thoughtfully for a while.

"Is it really that bad?", said Will, "One of my frustrations is not having been able to go to university".

"Oh, well, become a Southerner and you can study whatever you want".

"Can I become a Southerner?"

She smiled before answering:

"Of course you can. I'll tell you all about it before we say goodbye, Will. But now tell me: what do you want to see in Lisbon?"

"Everything".

"Ugh, then you'll have to stay and live here".

"But then I'd have to lose you as a taxi driver, wouldn't I?"

"Obviously".

"In that case, you can explain it to me along the way. For now, let's settle for a one-day guided tour. You can do that, can't you? So, let's say..., well, let's see what you can tell me in 24 hours, and if I'm still interested, I'll come back another time to explore everything you tell me in more detail, plus anything you recommend for a short stay in the city. Okay?"

"Of course. Here, taxi drivers take their customers wherever they want to go, no matter how near or far—she smiled.—And if you'd like a city tour to start with, we can begin whenever you like. Right now, for example".

The car was parked in front of the hotel, so they walked. At the end of Via Lusitana—for decades called Avenida da Liberdade, that is Liberty Avenue— they turned left, and soon they found themselves facing the tall obelisk on the tip of which stood the Marquis of Pombal, a national hero of the Portuguese, with his hand resting on a lion, a symbol of power. The square where it stands is named after the Marquis, an important 18^th-century statesman, ambassador to King John V, and later prime minister to his successor, Joseph I, ruling the Kingdom of Portugal for 27 years in the 18^th century.

"Now", Ainhoa told him, "we'd better take a taxi, because I'm going to take you to the Portas do Sol viewpoint, which is my favorite in the city".

They did so, and while having coffee on a terrace at the viewpoint, they enjoyed a panoramic view of the city's old town and the Tagus River. "It's called that", she explained, "because it seems to cut the Iberian Peninsula in two along its course, from the Sierra de Albarracín in the province of Teruel, and after traveling more than a thousand kilometers, it flows into Lisbon".

After coffee, they walked to the Santa Luzia viewpoint, which is a bit prettier than the previous one, although its views aren't as spectacular. Then they went to the Alfama district and walked up and down its characteristic hills, while Ainhoa told him interesting facts about the history of Portugal and its two unions with Spain. The first was during the reign of Philip 2², and the second, less than a century ago, was considered definitive, as it wasn't the result of a royal marriage but rather a popular vote. This union, along with Andorra and Spain, formed the Land of the South, something new, exotic, and exciting due to the social revolution that united everyone on the Iberian Peninsula into a single people.

"Also", she said with a wink, "our national currency is the old Portuguese escudo, which is now worth $25".

"But money isn't used here".

"Yes, that's true, but the South negotiates with other countries, and for that they use the escudo, since we don't feel like using the dollar, or the yen, or any other currency. Take it or leave it".

"And why don't they leave it?"

"Well, we can do without them more than they can without us, especially since the rest of Iberoamerica uses the escudo as its international currency. Although...", he hesitated a bit— I think they're considering adopting the same monetary system as us".

"Do you think that's possible?"

"Why not? Each country is given what it needs, and provides what it can, just like every individual here. It would be a way to end international disputes, don't you think?"

"But... but some countries might try to take advantage of others".

"I don't think so. You'll see, if you stay long enough, that doesn't happen on an individual scale. What Iberoamerica should do", she said in a professorial tone—is unite into a single country, as we have done with Spain and Andorra, and then many of their problems would disappear".

The visits to the Church of San Miguel and the Cathedral, called La Sé, which has stood since the 12^th century, were interesting. After passing under the Triumphal Arch, they entered the Praça do Comércio", Trade Square—, on the banks of the Tagus River, where the statue of King Joseph 1^st can be seen. There they took tram 15 to the Belém district. As it was lunchtime, they ate at Taberna dos Fenicios, which in a couple of decades had become a very typical spot in the city. Their specialty was traditional Portuguese and—so it was said—Phoenician food. There they ordered some ox ear rings, which, according to the waitress, were typical of ancient Phoenicia.

After lunch, they strolled through the neighborhood and saw the Jerónimos Monastery, which had been deconsecrated over time and was now a wonderful Gothic museum housing everything from Roman sculptures to Renaissance paintings. Then they walked along the riverbank, of which the city's residents are very proud, and where the Monument to the Discoveries stands, 52 meters high and built to commemorate the 500^th anniversary of the death of Henry the Navigator, a king of Portugal who, curiously, never set foot on a ship. They climbed the monument and saw the city from a different perspective. Then they...They visited the Belém Tower, a 16th-century fortress built to protect the entrance to the port.

After taking the tram, they returned to Praça do Comércio, where they boarded a boat to watch the sunset from the middle of the Tagus River. Then they took a taxi back to where they had left Ainhoa's taxi, which took him back to the hotel. They said their goodbyes until 8:00 the next morning, when they would travel to Badajoz and zigzag their way up through the main cities of the former kingdoms of Castile and Portugal until they reached Galicia.

The next morning, the dining room opened at six, and there was Will, showered and with his luggage packed, ready to leave the Portuguese capital. After breakfast, he left the hotel, and fifteen minutes later, Ainhoa arrived with his brand-new Candelaria Candela, a small, four-seater car with a spacious trunk and a very comfortable ride thanks to its hydroplastic suspension. After two and a half hours, they arrived in Badajoz, after stops in Évora, Estremoz, and Elvas.

"We could go to Olivenza, the old Portuguese Gibraltar, which has seven or eight things worth seeing, but if you want to go around the peninsula, you'll run out of time and you'll have to skip some places in favor of more picturesque ones. But if you want, let's go".

"No, no, I trust your judgment, Ainhoa".

They visited Badajoz and Mérida, where they saw the Roman ruins, with its famous theater, and then went to Cáceres and Salamanca, before returning to Portugal to see Coimbra, famous for an ancient song Will had heard in England. Then they went up to Porto, Vigo, and A Coruña—where they saw the Tower of Hercules, supposedly the city's founder—and then stopped in one of its small towns, Cariño, which Ainhoa told him was the northernmost town on the entire peninsula.

They had been traveling back to the country for 15 days when Will confessed that he was overwhelmed by seeing so many things, which we haven't listed here so as not to tire the reader.

"Ainhoa", he said as they left Oviedo, "take me to Madrid to rest for a couple of days, and then take me back to Málaga, because I'm exhausted".

"I knew it was too much to see all at once. Well, we've seen the western part of the country. Let me know when you want to see the eastern part. It'll be fun".

Indeed, in the past there was an extensive network of motorways crisscrossing the peninsula in all directions, but the Southern people lost their taste for road travel, and as the motorways deteriorated, the Ministry of Public Works dismantled them and used the materials to build ports and buildings wherever needed, to restore towns. Since there was no longer a need to live in provincial capitals because the state administration and management had been greatly streamlined, people could work from home or live close to their jobs, as the concept of property ownership became less relevant. Each person was given what they needed for as long as they needed it, to perform the tasks they were capable of. And goods were transported by rail, which made the motorways redundant.

Yes, it was a different concept of life and work that Will found easier to grasp. She wondered, therefore, if she would be able to get used to her old life in England...

"It's strange to see that people don't seem to have private cars".

"Some have them for their profession, like doctors or plumbers, for example. But it's much more convenient to use a taxi. We have more taxis than any other country relative to the number of inhabitants".

"Of course. In England there are cars..., too many. But then we can't park without paying".

"You see, here I park wherever I want..." she smiled. "But do you know why people travel so little here now?"

"That has surprised me, yes. There's hardly anyone on the Southern roads".

"Because we've gone back to living in the villages". And we have everything just two or three blocks from our houses. In a town of ten thousand inhabitants, there can be five post offices and ten supermarkets, which, if needed, will deliver your food to your home for the same price..."

"That's nice. And besides, it fosters a social life."

"Well, it really is. There are many clubs in small towns, which are conspicuously absent in cities. In a small town, everyone knows everyone, while in the city, you don't even know the person across the hall."

"I can vouch for that: where I live, in London, there are 40 of us neighbors, and I only know two or three from running into them in the elevator.

8 From Madrid to Heaven.

,... and from there a little hole to see it, according to a popular saying.

They arrived in Madrid via the Coruña highway. They spoke little during the journey. They stopped in León, where they saw the Gothic cathedral Pulchra Leonina (actually called de Santa María de Regla); in Valladolid, where they had coffee in the magnificent Plaza Mayor; and in Ávila, where Ainhoa told him about her walled city, her own birthplace and that of Saint Teresa, the founder of the Beafooted Carmelites and a Doctor of the Catholic Church and a great figure in Spanish literature, as evidenced by her two seminal books, The Interior Castle and The Book of Life. They treated themselves to a typical T-bone steak from that city at a restaurant called Candela, and after having a couple of coffees by the Adaja River, they continued on to Madrid.

"Does this city bring back memories?", Will asked as they were about to get back into the car to head towards the capital of the Land of the South.

"Indeed. I grew up here, I went to university here, and when I finished, I traveled around the country, like this trip we're taking now, with some friends".

"So how did you end up as a taxi driver?"

"Well, it was by chance. I was teaching at a secondary school until I got tired of always repeating the same thing, and I remembered that when I traveled around the country, no two days were the same. So I took the exams for my taxi license, and they gave me an electric car to practice with. After six months, they gave me one like this, and a couple of years ago they extended my license to allow me to drive all over the country".

"And will you be a taxi driver for life?"

"I honestly don't know. I've only been doing it for three years. Here people tend to change jobs from time to time until they find the one they like best. I don't know, maybe I'll go back to university and study something else, but for now I'm happy going from place to place. It's pleasant, varied, you meet people, and above all, you get to work sitting down. Yes, I think I'll be a taxi driver for the rest of my life".

"And that will be..., how many years?"

"I really don't know. I suppose as long as I can drive. Maybe with time I'll lose some of my eyesight, or reflexes... I don't know. Taxi drivers get a check-up every year, you know: psychometric test, vision test, reflex test, and other medical tests that I suppose you're familiar with, because they do them to everyone when they get their driver's license, and then every four or five years. Don't they do them in your country?"

"Sure, but it's every ten years, until we retire, and then they test us every two. But taxi drivers there get tested just like everyone else".

"Well, I think that's a bit unwise. Taxi drivers and other road professionals are more exposed than you, who only drive when you need to or feel like it, and even if it's every day, it's only for a short time, while we're behind the wheel all the time..."

"That's true. And besides, there's always danger on the road, isn't there?"

"True. But all jobs have their drawbacks. You could fall on a construction site and get killed, too, right?"

"I'd never really thought about it... Yes, that's right. I've never considered it, even though I've seen colleagues fall from scaffolding and die..."

"See? Hehe, I don't think about it either. Accidents do happen, and many might not be your fault, but you tend to think it'll never happen to you, because driving and luck have always been on your side. But thanks for reminding me, I'll keep it in mind, Will".

"Here, me too. We work doing what we love, but even we can get upset about that. Although I have had a few scares. What about you?"

"True, there have been a few. Once I had to pull off the road to avoid an accident. But that's very rare, luckily".

Chatting animatedly, the journey seemed short, and so, in the mid-afternoon, they finally arrived in the former capital of Spain and current capital of the Land of the South.

As Ainhoa explained, in ancient times, when looking at Madrid on the horizon, one could see a mushroom cloud above it, formed by car exhaust and other pollution produced by so many people living there. But that had been solved decades ago, as there weren't so many cars, nor so many people living there, because—just like in other provincial capitals—people had returned to the countryside, and the birth rate had declined until the population came down to 30 million again, although it had now stabilized at that number, with little fluctuation.

"And what is that fluctuation due to? Because the problem we have with immigration doesn't seem to be one you have".

"No, entry into the country is very controlled here. People come prepared, or they don't come at all".

"Heh, besides us, tourists, like me.

"That's true. You know, many tourists stay, others leave, but they come back".

"That's what I've been told, but that doesn't quite fit with the obstacles you put in our way to prevent us from coming here as tourists".

"Well, tourism is a luxury. We do a lot of it, but it's mostly inland. Those who have traveled abroad usually return quite disappointed, although there are also some who stay there".

"See? We don't put up so many obstacles".

"Neither do we. Instead of demanding that those who leave pay back the money their education cost, the state even gives them 10,000 escudos to settle down, although if they later decide to return, they have to pay back the rest".

"And do they come back?"

"Some do. But I've never considered leaving. I had enough of those two years in London. Things are better here, to say the least, and you can work in whatever you want. The laws of the market don't apply here. Because there isn't a market, of course".

"And what if something needed is at fault?"

"Well, when a need is identified, a survey is conducted, and perhaps a solution will emerge. If not, it's a matter of waiting for someone to propose something. And if no one proposes it, if it's a need of only one person and it's not given enough importance, the project is abandoned, unless the person who proposed it takes it upon his own shoulders to implement it and its viability is assessed. In that case, the necessary resources and support to carry out the project are provided. Every year, the concerning resources are allocated for new projects, most of which fail, but some, like cheap synthetic gasoline, which is what my car uses, have emerged thanks to the research behind many failed projects".

"So only the things everyone wants will be done..., the most interesting ones are always the work of a minority, however".

"That minority has to sell its idea to the majority, in your country through money. If people don't buy it, it doesn't get done. But don't worry: we have artificial satellites because we were sold the idea that this country was a tempting target for other powers, and unless we got our act together, we'd end up being vassals of the Russians, Americans, Chinese, or anyone else".

"Someone told me they're artificial satellites for war..."

"That's right. For war and espionage. Nothing escapes us. And the best part is that the governments of other countries know this, especially the Americans and the Russians, whom we inform from time to time, not only about what we have, but also about what they have".

"Very astute. Do you have bases on the Moon?"

"And on Mars and Venus. But they're unmanned. There are robots there that do various jobs, and the bring us materials we need. That's why we have more gold and rare earth elements than anyone else. But we practice a healthy principle of live and let live. What are manned are the rockets we've sent into outer space, on one-way missions".

"What do you mean, one-way?"

"Well, look: it's known that there are other inhabited planets in the galaxy. But it's also known that they're so far away that a human lifespan isn't long enough to complete the journey. We have sent one hundred people, fifty fertile couples on every ship, with the mission of going to different planets. After several generations, that is, hundreds or perhaps thousands of years, the descendants of those who left here will arrive at planets where they can live, and they will populate them if they are uninhabited. If they are not, they will try to reach an agreement with the natives there. And if there is no agreement, they will continue their wandering until they can settle. But it is a completely altruistic project: money, time, and energy have been invested so that if humanity is ever foolish enough to destroy itself, our mark will remain somewhere in the universe, if any of these expeditions is successful".

"It doesn't seem like that will have any impact on life in the Land of the South or on the others".

"That's true. I already told you it was something very altruistic. It's possible that the descendants of some of those who left will one day return, and perhaps all they'll find is a new planet to repopulate... Who knows?"

"But..., none of this is known in my country, and I doubt it is in others".

"The governments know, but they haven't told the people, perhaps out of fear, perhaps because they don't quite believe it. But we don't care".

At that moment they entered the square called Puerta del Sol (literally, Sun's Gate), the nerve center of the city, and of Spain, because there was a sign on the ground that read two words: Kilometer 0.

"Well, Will, we're already in the former capital of the Habsburgs, the Bourbons, the two", though some say four— republics, and the current Land of the South", the taxi driver said with bombastic diction. "What would you like to do?"

"Well, we need to find some accommodation, don't we?"

"Of course. But here, in the center, or in the outskirts, in a bar area, a nightclub area, a sports area?"

"Let's look at the historic center; I like it better. And since we're here, it would be best if our hotel were here too, wouldn't it?"

"I don't know if we'll find accommodation..., let's see".

But they did find it. It wasn't exactly a hotel. It was called Hostal América, and it was two hundred years old, although it had been renovated every fifty years.

They went for a walk as soon as they arrived. Their hostel was a stone's throw from the legendary Puerta del Sol, where the bronze statue of the bear and the strawberry tree, symbols of Madrid for many years, still stood. People used to take pictures next to it, and some daring ones would climb up and pose with the bear, even though it was forbidden, and there were always those who criticized them for it.

"And the police? Don't you have any?"

"Of course we have them. But not many, really. And they're not always in uniform. But people don't steal here because there's no money. No scams, no cheating. Everyone minds their own business, and if someone starts playing music in the street, people start dancing or clapping. That and being able to live the life they like is their only reward".

They went to bed early, as Will was tired from the trip. Ainhoa, on the other hand, went out for a walk, went into a nightclub, and got a hit that night. He was an archaeology student named Manolo, who was very charming and liked older women. At first, she wasn't too keen on hooking up with a guy who could be her little brother, the one she never had, because she was an only child. But he knew how to win her over, and it worked out well for both her and Will when the next day", since he didn't have to attend classes because it was Saturday— he came along to show them some of the monuments and tell them about the history of the capital.

"You know, Will", he was telling him from the back seat, "the capital of the Land of the South isn't a city, but a town. In ancient Spain, settlements only became cities when a king granted their inhabitants citizenship, but Madrid started as a small fortress called Mayrit in the year 865, when the Muslims ruled the peninsula. The name Mayrit seems to derive from an older Latin word, Matrice, meaning mother of the waters, due to a once-thriving stream that no longer exists and which flowed along the old Calle de Segovia, now called Calle de Alicia, named after the last Queen of Spain, who was born in Segovia. This is why some say the town predates the Muslims, as it was actually founded by the Romans, though they didn't pay it much attention. Toledo was the capital of Spain from the Visigothic period, but Emperor Philip 2^nd later moved it to Madrid, then a small town, to avoid close contact with the Cardinal Primate of Spain and thus reduce disputes and conflicts between the civil and religious authorities. In short, no king bothered to grant this settlement city status, and it was later considered curious that the most important city on the peninsula was merely a town. And now, this is seen as a peculiarity of our capital.

"But you're not from here, are you, Manolo?"

"Oh, no, I'm from Córdoba. Have you ever been to Córdoba?"

"No, not yet".

Manolo looked at Ainhoa, who smiled at the chauvinism of her temporary fling.

"Well, what a mistake. Tell Ainhoa to take you. It won't disappoint you. It was the capital of Muslim Spain, in its time the most cultured city on the European continent".

Manolo knew a lot about art and history. He explained the origins of each neighborhood in the capital and accompanied them to see the Prado Museum", the greatest art gallery in the world, he told them, despite Napoleon's plundering, although France gradually returned almost all the paintings stolen by its generalissimo— and also the Science Museum, the Wax Museum", where all the kings of Spain and Portugal, from Alaric to Alice, were represented, as well as all the presidents of the three republics (the two Spanish republics and the Portuguese republic), along with Nobel laureates and other important writers and scientists from the Iberian Peninsula— the Museum of Communication, and a curious Museum of the Soul, which exemplified philosophical and religious concepts from all eras, from prehistory to the present day.

"I wish we had a republic in England. My country is the only monarchy left in the world..."

"True. But this could be a monarchy without any significant changes in people's lives. After all, the last kings of Spain weren't really in power. Just like the one in your country. There you have Dukes, Counts, and the King hands out decorations and titles to people who have to keep an exemplary conduct. We all have it here, whether it's demanded of us or not, because our values are different. I wouldn't say they're republican values, but human values, or better yet, civic values. We Southerners have gone from ignoring politics to embracing it in our daily lives, and we express our concerns about public life through our elected servants, namely the members of Parliament and the President of the Republic".

During the week they spent in the capital of the South", as the country was soon to be called— Manolo accompanied them, although at night he only accompanied Ainhoa. Will accompanied them to nightclubs, dance halls, concerts, plays, or movies, as the cultural offerings were extensive. Manolo introduced them to his circle of friends, and Will made a great impression, so much that Luisa and Amelia vied for his charms, although in the end Luisa won out, and a brief relationship began between the Englishman and the woman from Madrid. She had a curious profession that didn't exist in England, Good-byer: she accompanied terminally ill patients so they could have a peaceful, comfortable if not happy, dignified death. These things still gave Will the creeps, so he didn't ask her much about her job, although he suspected that perhaps that's why she was such a good listener, so understanding, and never took a strong stance on any issue.

"Well, Will", Ainhoa said to him on the seventh day, "are you staying in Madrid, or are you going back to your hometown from here? I have to ask because in either case I must return to Porto, thus concluding my mission with you".

Will considered his thoughts before answering.

"I hadn't thought about it. The truth is, I got carried away, Ainhoa".

"Yes, I can see that. Have you fallen in love with Luisa?"

"Well, I don't know. We'll write, I suppose. But you're right, my time is running out, and I want to get back to Málaga. Can we stop in Córdoba?"

"Even if we don't want to, we have to go through there. If you like, we can stop in Toledo, Ciudad Real, and Córdoba before arriving in Málaga..., although I'd recommend seeing Granada too, since you'll be returning home soon".

"Well, my flight leaves in a few days..."

"You can postpone it, if you want. The hotel can arrange it for you".

And so it was done. Will called Estrella, who told him there wouldn't be any problem, but that they could do it when they got back, when he was sure about it.

"Of course".

At midday they set off south and stopped in Toledo, the imperial city, where they saw the Primate Cathedral, the Alcázar, and the Synagogue of Santa María la Blanca, not forgetting to visit Calle del Hombre de Palo (Street of the Wooden Man). There they were told the story of Juanelo Turriano, the engineer who was swindled by Emperor Charles 1^st: after raising the water from the Tagus River to the Alcázar (a fortress on the top of a hill), he received no payment from either the city or the royal, his only reward being the renaming of the old Lonja Street, where he spent his last days begging for alms through a curious wooden automaton of his own invention. Upon receiving a coin, the machine-man would bow forward in gratitude to the generous giver.

They had coffee in Zocodover Square, while Ainhoa told Will some of the legends about the city left to us by the poet Gustavo Adolfo Bécquer, and then they continued on to Ciudad Real (Royal City), where they saw the Puerta de Toledo and the Don Quixote Museum. Two hours later they arrived in the pearl of Al-Andalus, Córdoba la Bella (Córdoba the beautiful), as its inhabitants call it, and which the poet Manuel Machado, however, called Cordoba callada (Córdoba the Silent) in a famous poem.

Following Manolo's directions, they immediately went to see the famous Mosque-Cathedral, where Christian and Muslim art met, the Calleja del Pañuelo (Handkerchief Alley), and the Alcázar. Since they had arrived around eight in the evening, they decided to spend the night in the capital of the Caliphate, although they also wanted to enjoy the Cordoban nightlife. They attended a flamenco show at Tasca del Tío Manolo, a kind of restaurant and nightclub combined.

The next day they got up late, and after a couple of hours' drive, they arrived in Málaga.

Will's trip was coming to an end. At the entrance of the Hotel Durán Ainhoa shook his client's hand and said goodbye:

"But", Will said, "are you leaving already? Don't you want to have dinner with me and leave tomorrow? You'll be too tired to go to Porto now..."

She hesitated for a moment, but agreed:

"Okay, fine. I'll stay at your hotel tonight, if there's a room. I'll leave tomorrow".

She was lucky and got a room on the same floor as Will. After freshening up and getting some sleep, they met in the hotel lobby. They strolled to the El Rodaballo restaurant, right in the port.

"You know, Ainhoa? It still intrigues me that you have so few police officers in this country, and yet I haven't seen a single incident after traveling so far, for so many kilometers, and being in so many places in Spain and Portugal.

"Well, when there's no money involved, people usually agree on everything else, you know. It'll be the same in your country. Although here, when someone sees them commit a crime, they have the right to arrrest the criminal, provided he'll be surrendered to the police within 24 hours. It's an old Spanish law that we kept when we became the Land of the South".

"Interesting: besides being soldiers, you're all police officers. Anyone could do that", he joked. But then, more seriously, he continued with his explanation: "Although, well, not all crimes are about money... What happens when a wife cheats on her husband? Aren't there passionate murders"

"Hehe, those murders aren't common, no, to say the least. We're raised to believe in love from childhood. Sex isn't the same as love. For example, I had a couple of those kinds of encounters with Manolo in Madrid, but that's all water under the bridge now. We both wanted to relieve the pressure, and I suppose he's forgotten about me too, and although he said he'd write to me, I doubt he will. I certainly won't, though I'll reply if he does. But if I were to marry him, or someone else, I wouldn't stop loving my husband because I had a fling, nor would he leave me for someone else. And if I find out, or he finds out, about some infidelity of mine, nothing would happen. After all, nobody owns anyone. And if, after a few years, we realize that what we had wasn't love and we'd be better off without each other, we'll separate, and that's that. We follow the wise and popular saying: I pray to God that He doesn't cheat on me. If he does, I hope I don't find out. And if I find out, let me not care about it".

"I thought marriage was sacred here, and family..., how do you handle that?"

"Many among us are religious. Most get married, often in the Catholic Church, and quite a few stay together for life, I'd say most. But many families are single-parent: although my parents did get married and are still together, many of my friends grew up with only their mother or father, who never married. Many of us decide to have a child without looking for a partner before or after, and raise them alone. I have friends who have done it, and at my age it's not unusual for them to already have a ten- or twelve-year-old child. But civil marriages expire after five years".

"What do you mean they expire?"

"Yes, of course. Those who don't believe in eternal love, but want to get married, formalize a contract before the mayor or a judge, committing themselves to a series of conditions identical to those of marriage, but only for five years. After those years, if at least one of the two doesn't agree to continue, the marriage is dissolved without the other being able to demand anything".

"And what about children? And even if there aren't any, they can be born after the dissolution of the marriage..."

"Well, they're welcome. I myself never use contraception. Perhaps I'll be blessed with the gift of motherhood without seeking it, although if", for example— I have a child from Manolo's seed, I would tell him. Just as we can choose to have them or not, fathers have the right to know. Single mothers receive a lot of help from society, from daytime childcare while they're at work, to picking up children from special centers or placing them for conditional adoption with couples who can't have children. The mother can even stop working until her child is old enough to enter a boarding school, where they will lack nothing, including the established visitation schedule, at the very least spending weekends with their mother or father".

"I see... But tell me, what is this about conditional adoption?"

"Ah, right, that concept doesn't exist in England. In your country, when a child is given up for adoption, he or she isn't told until coming of age, and the biological mother never sees her child again. Here it's not like that: the adoptive couple provides a family life for the child, but the biological mother can visit and even take them for periods of time, during holidays or weekends... In other words, the adopted child actually has two mothers, and is aware of this from the beginning. Often they have two fathers too, although men usually distance themselves from that. Ultimately, whether or not to keep the child once it has been ordered is solely the mother's decision, and the father only has the right to know. However, the downside is that once a child is adopted, the adoptive parents keep himor her forever, even if the biological mother changes her mind and wants them back, as this would cause psychological and emotional harm to the child, who is the one who must always be protected. Only in cases of abuse would a judge authorize a change in parental rights".

"Uh-huh. I suppose in your case you would have an abortion?"

"No, abortion isn't prohibited here, but I don't know any woman who's had one, even if she didn't want the child. Anyway, our upbringing is different, Will: here we're supported, we're given everything we need, and if we have to spend ten years out of work, just taking care of our child, it's not a big deal, because after all, that's working for our society, don't you think? But if we decide not to have the child, it doesn't mean we have an abortion; it means we give the child to the state, and there will always be a couple who can't have children to adopt it, or if not, the state itself takes care of its well-being and education as a citizen until it can become independent".

Then, with a mischievous smile, she added:

"Who knows? Maybe Luisa will write to you in a few months and tell you that you're going to be a father..."

"I hope not. What would become of the poor kid, with a father in Great Britain, who might not even be allowed to come back here?"

"I suppose you didn't use a condom".

"According to her, you don't use them here. And even if I wanted to do, she told me that she wouldn't allow it. She's a strange woman".

"Not strange, Will. Maybe she selected you to be a mother because of your genes, who knows?"

That didn't reassure Will much. He told himself that people in this country were crazy, and the sooner he left, the better.

However, he later processed everything the taxi driver had told him, and remembered that in Great Britain the state gave both parents a few months of paid leave, and if one of them then wanted to take care of the child, they had to quit their job, and even though they received an extra 500 pounds a month for each child, it wasn't enough. He much preferred what they did in the land of the penniless…

9 Expanse.

After dinner, Ainhoa brought up something he hadn't expected.

"Well, Englishman, I'm not your taxi driver anymore. You can take me dancing now. Or don't you feel like it? Are you still suffering from Luisa syndrome?"

"And why not? After all, I've spent more time with you than with any other woman in years. Do you know any nightclubs, or should we go to the one at the hotel?"

"The one at the hotel is closer, isn't it? Especially if we have a few drinks and then there's no taxi..."

They danced for several hours. They drank quite a bit, and the next day they realized it had been a waste to have booked a room for Ainhoa.

When Will opened his eyes, he found himself lying across the bed, naked", though he never slept without his pajamas— and on his shoulder was a woman's head. A petite, dark-haired woman, her skin darker than his, and when he raised his right arm, he saw that he had been holding her close. They had both fallen asleep like that, perhaps because she had threatened to leave and he had stopped her. She was also naked, warm, and firm, yet soft. Taking advantage of the fact that she was still asleep, he uncovered the sheets and admired the body that had been his companion for most of the vacation.

What had happened? He couldn't remember anything. To see if he could, he brought his mouth close to hers and kissed her gently.

She moaned in her sleep, placed one leg over his, and an arm around his chest, while she opened her mouth and caressed him with her tongue.

"Mmm, my Englishman. It looks like you didn't get enough last night."

"Last night?" he asked as he caressed her back and lower.

They caressed each other, and suddenly she straddled him, fully awake, and they made love again. She smiled down at him, and he caressed her breasts.

"Is this what happened last night?" he asked between thrusts, close to reaching climax.

"Several times, don't you remember?" she said just before letting out the cry of her climax.

For several minutes neither of them said anything, focused only on their pleasure.

Afterward, she lay down beside him, still holding his hand.

"My Englishman", Ainhoa said. "I'm going to miss you".

"Don't go", he replied. "Not yet".

She opened her eyes.

"Don't you remember Luisa?"

"Luisa? Who's Luisa?"

"That Valkyrie who snagged you in Madrid. The one who might be expecting your child now, Englishman".

He smiled mischievously.

"Now I might have two little Southern kids from two different women... Is bigamy allowed here?"

"No", she said, winking. "Don't be so old-fashioned, man. If I stay with you, it's my choice whether to have the child or not, although yes, I think I would, but it's not likely I'll be with you." But tell me, Will: why do you want me to stay?

"I like you a lot, Ainhoa. I don't know how I haven't noticed this past month. When I saw you with Manolo, I felt a little bad, even though we never exchanged any signals in that direction..."

"It's really wrong of me to get involved with a client, Will. But yes, I liked you from the start. I consoled myself with Manolo, I suppose. But you're not my client anymore, so now I can take advantage of you a little".

"Well, stay until I leave".

"I can't promise you that much. But I'll stay until that plane you want to take leaves in two days. But only if you promise not to cry when we say goodbye at the airport".

But he didn't stay for two days, but for two more weeks. As Ainhoa had told him, the hotel manager arranged for him to change his flight to the following month.

During that time, Will learned many things about the The Land of the South.

"I already told my boss I'm staying in Málaga for a couple more weeks", he said a few days after the flight Will was supposed to take had departed.

"How did he take it?"

"How do you think he'll take it? He told me someone will come to take the taxi in a few hours. I suppose they'll assign it to another driver, or else they'll leave it in the spare taxi parking lot".

"You're not a taxi driver anymore?"

"Yes, I am, Will. But now I'm on vacation, here with you. By the way, it's cold being in a hotel." I've already made an arrangement by phone to get us a small apartment nearby. If you'd like, of course.

I hadn't planned on staying this long, but yes, I suppose you're right.

The next day they moved to a rather charming apartment two blocks from the hotel. They spent several days buying things to decorate it to their liking: paintings, photos of the two of them and of the places they had visited and photographed, and a few pieces of furniture they felt were missing. And a laptop so Will could stay in touch with his company and friends. Of what the previous tenants had left behind, they only kept a life-size painting of themselves.

The real estate agent told them it was a picture of a naked woman. According to him, it was the previous tenant, who had gone to work up north when she left the apartment. It was an innocent photo, despite the nudity.

"Would you leave a photo like this for anyone who comes to live here when we leave, if we ever do?"

"Me? Well… only if we're both in it".

Will, more embarrassed, dropped the subject with a smile.

Once they had traveled halfway across South Country, they stayed in that apartment, expressing their affection for each other several times a day, until twenty days later she said to him very seriously:

"Well, Will, it's not right for me to be out of work for so long." We usually take a month off every year, but I don't want to use it all up, so tomorrow I'm going to the taxi dispatch centers in Malaga to see if they have any openings".

"So, what am I supposed to do while you're working?"

"Well, you can go for a walk, go to the library and read something, sleep... or even look for a job".

"Can I work without a contract?"

"Ha, nobody here has an employment contract, Will. Here, we all work when we want, doing what we want, and for as long as we want, you've seen it".

"But you say you have a month of vacation..."

"The law doesn't require it, Will. My values, my customs, what's socially acceptable... require it, although nobody would criticize me if I played truant. But it's not right".

"Okay, fine, I'll find something else to do. But I'll miss you, taxi driver".

10 At the Taxi Driver's House.

The next day they had breakfast together. Then he walked her to her office and waited for her, sitting on the bus stop bench across the street, reading a paperback.

"How's everything going?"

"I'm starting tomorrow. I'll get a Toyota Suspiro, a brand-new five-seater, for city and intercity transport, as I please".

"Hehe, judging by your face, I can tell you're glad you got the change, right?"

"The truth is I was getting a bit fed up with the Candela. This one has more power and handles better on curves. And her suspension is better tuned".

"Well, you'll give me the inaugural ride, won't you?"

"Uh, I'll get the car at eight in the morning". If you call me at that time, you'll be the first one on the phone, and I'll come pick you up at home. Then we can go wherever, but I have to drop you off and come pick you up later. Okay? I'll give you a call when I'm free, and you call me back immediately, so no one else cuts in line".

That's what they did the first day. Will called her at 8 o'clock sharp, and two minutes later she was at the door in her brand-new Toyota Suspiro.

She took him to the Provincial Library of Málaga. He spent the whole morning there, reading some books he'd always wanted to read, because, to his surprise, there was a good selection of English literature in the original version, both classic and modern. He browsed through some of Shakespeare's tragedies that he'd read in school, back when he leaving child age, and then he glanced at some of Rowling and Anders's books, his favorites. But there were many more books in Spanish and Portuguese, and for the first time, he felt inferior for not being able to understand what those letters were telling him. He promised himself he would learn both languages, now that he had a Southerner at home, what was called in his country a sleeping dictionary.

And he wondered what his Southerner was doing at that moment, who she was talking to, where she was taking him.

At the agreed-upon time, midday, she stopped for lunch, so she gave him a call, and he called her back immediately. Five minutes later, she was picking him up at the library entrance, and six minutes after that they were on the other side of Málaga, eating at Rincón de Juanete, one of the city's most famous restaurants for its excellent food.

"How was your first day of work?"

"Normal. Well, not completely normal". My first passenger was going to the airport, the second I took from there to his hotel, the Five Star", not that it has any stars, that's just its name— and my third passenger had the bright idea of ​​giving birth in the taxi. Then I had to take it to the depot to be cleaned. What a mess, for such a new car. But you can never tell, can you?"

"No, you did a good job".

She looked at him with a sly expression.

"No, darling, taxi drivers don't clean. That's what cleaners do, with their strange devices".

"Heh, I know more than one taxi driver in London who would gladly come live here. There they have to do everything themselves, whether the taxi is theirs or not".

"That's the difference: here the taxi doesn't belong to anyone, and it belongs to everyone. That's why some of us drive them, and others take care of them".

After lunch, they had coffee on a nearby terrace, and then she drove him to the port, her favorite spot, and went off to do another job. She took much longer than she should have, not returning home until ten o'clock at night.

"A long day at the office?" he asked when she arrived. He had prepared dinner and lit two candles for a romantic dinner.

She smiled at him, tired, and had a shower while he reheated the hake he had cooked.

"Well, yes. It seems like everyone here has taken to ordering a taxi. And it just so happens it had to be mine. I haven't stopped since I left you, honey".

"Oh, I'm sorry. You must be tired, although when we went to see the country you drove more".

"Yes, of course, but we stopped, chatted... in short, it was a vacation. This is work. But I'm not complaining, it's only the first day. Let's see what we do tomorrow. And you, what have you been doing? More reading?"

"No, actually I took a long walk around Málaga. I like this city. I like the sea, I like the weather, and I like you. I'd like to stay forever. It's a shame I have to leave in another three months. By the way, to look for a job. I don't think my boss will accept me after the vacation I've enjoyed without him giving it to me..."

She smiled when she heard and I like you. She already knew that, but it's nice to hear things like that once in a while.

"Well", she continued, "I went downtown and looked at some interesting buildings". They were also restoring a facade, and I saw several of my colleagues working there. I asked if they needed more staff and they said yes, but they added things I couldn't understand. I still don't speak Spanish fluently..."

She nodded as she took a piece of hake. Yes, he'd have to sort out some paperwork to do that.

"It's not impossible. But you have to register as a bricklayer".

"I suppose I'd also have to apply for a work permit".

"Oh, no. Nobody needs permission to work here. Work is a natural right. But you do have to prove you know what you're doing. It's irresponsible to let you climb scaffolding if you're going to fall because you have more good intentions than experience".

He stared at her until he realized that was because there was no salary either.

"Then tell me what I have to do".

"Well, you have to go to the Employment Office and apply for the bricklaying exam. Once you pass it, they'll give you a certificate that will allow you to work on any construction site that will accept you. But I thought you were one of those people who could eat without working, like you told me a few days ago".

"Well... you're right: I can't stand being idle, and these weeks without lifting a finger are too much for me. That's why I wanted to go back to England".

"And you don't want to anymore?"

"If they give me a job, no. And what's that exam like?"

"They'll give you the address of a training center, and there they'll assign you a teacher who will explain everything. But first, you'd have to improve your Spanish, so I suggest you sign up for classes for foreigners first. There's an adult education center right next door".

11 The call of duty.

He enrolled, but the course was intensive, so he didn't understand much and dropped out because he was embarrassed to be constantly interrupting. Besides, the teacher didn't speak English. There was another course, elementary, but it wouldn't start for a few months. Also, his boss wrote to him, asking if something had happened to him and when he could come back, because he needed him.

He pondered on the matter for several days, with no word about it to Ainhoa. They continued making love, as usual, because although she often came home exhausted from work, after a shower she seemed completely recovered. But in his walks around Málaga, it came to his mind what Estrella, the manager of the Hotel Durán, had predicted: seeing everyone working and feeling guilty, you'll end up working at whatever you can find. He considered teaching English, but the problem was twofold: on the one hand, he didn't know Spanish to explain things to the students, and on the other hand, he had never entered a classroom except as a student, and he wouldn't even know where to begin.

For all these reasons, he made the decision he least wanted to make, but which he understood was the best, given his circumstances: to return to England. That night he told his girlfriend.

"Ainhoa, I've been thinking about it these past few days. I feel lost here. All of this is overwhelming. I don't know the language, and I can only talk to those of you who know English. So I've decided to go to England, and I'll see if I can come back someday".

She understood his reasons, but she didn't take it well at all. She offered to teach him the language herself, but she wasn't a language teacher either, and it would be a failure. So the next day he went to the airport, changed his flight date for the following day, and early the next morning she drove him to the airport and they said goodbye like two good friends.

"Now they'll take my apartment, I suppose", she complained. "Ha, we never took that life-size nude photo to leave there".

"You can take one yourself, and that way that poor girl won't be alone..."

She smiled, and although she didn't say anything, he understood from her expression that she would.

Three hours later he arrived at Gatwick Airport. He took a taxi, remembering in time that he had to pay for it there. Luckily, he had all the money he'd brought for his vacation. God, he'd just arrived back in his country, and he already missed the South!

Long vacation, he told himself. Not bad: 12 weeks of vacation, and now back to the daily grind, until the following year when the boss would want to give him more time off, even though he'd told him he'd keep him on the payroll on the condition that he made up the vacation time he owed", that is, two years of nonstop work. Because if he left, he wouldn't get him back.

But something had changed in his soul. He no longer lived on autopilot, with identical days and endless nights. Now he knew there was at least one woman waiting for him, though he didn't know for how long.

He signed up for Southern languages classes at night, with barely enough time to go home, shower, and get to the Language School. He spent the next two years studying diligently and earned the equivalent of a C1 in Spanish and a B2 in Portuguese. He continued for another year and achieved the corresponding C2 and C1 levels. And then he felt ready to return to the The Land of the South.

For several months she had been writing to him, urging him to return, but it was impossible because he could not get holidays for two years. Then there were no more letters. He tried calling her, but the number she had given him was no longer working. It seemed she had forgotten him, or something had happened to her. With a profession like that, it was possible she had had an accident.

Several years later, Will went to the Embassy of the The Land of the South and got some information. They could indeed give him the masonry tests in England, with a view to moving to the The Country for good. Every year there was a quota of skilled immigrants accepted, and he put his name on the list. And a year later, seven since he had returned to England, he was able to go back to Málaga.

At the Taxi Center they told him that she had returned to Porto two years before, and that they didn't know anything about her. He took the train and went to look for her, but there they told him she was no longer a taxi driver, and they knew nothing about her. He asked at the central police station, and there they told him she now lived in Ávila, with her husband and two children.

That was a very serious blow to him. It was as if a bucket of cold water had been thrown over his head. He had always kept her in his thoughts, but it seemed she had grown tired of waiting for the Absent One, who perhaps would never return. Of course: that's why she had stopped writing to him. The police gave him the address, and he had automatically boarded a bus, and several hours later he found himself in the bus terminal of that old city. Without a clear plan, he took a room at a hotel on the outskirts, El Caminante (the Walker), and after dinner, went up to his room and lay down on the bed. An old movie was playing on the television, which he watched with interest, noting with satisfaction that he understood almost everything they were saying.

Three days later he made another decision: he would leave. He would return to Málaga la Bella, but first he had to see Ainhoa. He called a taxi and went to her house.

A neighbor told him she wasn't there. That she had probably gone to pick up her children from school. The oldest was six, she said, and the youngest was three.

He fantasized about the idea of ​​the oldest being his own. A son! He had never considered having a child, but now, having already had one and him almost grown, the idea appealed to him. But... why hadn't she told him? Everything would have changed if he'd known she had a son...

While he waited for her to come home from school with the two boys, he wondered whom she had married. If she had told him, perhaps he could have come back and married her, and they could have raised their son together. Why couldn't southern women be like everyone else?

And then he saw her arrive. She was walking with one child in each hand, the three of them together, talking to one and then the other. They looked happy. He pictured himself there, holding the older one's hand, his arm around her waist... Well, dreaming is free, he told himself.

"Hello, Ainhoa..." he greeted her, waiting for her reply.

She hadn't expected it, and at first, she didn't recognize him.

"The Englishman..., Sam?"

"Will, I'm William Webb, from London. Don't you remember?", he said in perfect Spanish.

"I see you've made progress with the language.

"E também aprendi português (And I've also learned Portuguese).

"Wow, you've been busy. Did you leave a girlfriend in England?

"Cuando salí de aquí dejé mi alma, mi corazón (When I left here, I left my soul, my heart)", he said, humming an old, forgotten song.

She stared at him, very serious, until one of the children said:

"Mom, who is this man?

She seemed to wake up suddenly, and looking at him, said:

"A friend of mine, son. Come, let's go home.

They went into the building, but Will followed them.

She said nothing, even though she knew he was following them. The three of them went into her apartment, and Will slipped in behind them.

"Can we talk?"

"Wait, Will, while I get them their afternoon snack, and I'll come back here. Sit on the sofa. Since you already know Spanish, there are magazines or books on the shelf. I'll be a little while".

From the shelf, he selected a copy of Miguel de Cervantes's Exemplary Novels and lingered over one that caught his eye, The Spanish English girl. He had wanted to be the English Spaniard in Ainhoa's life, but it seemed he was too late. Seven years too late. Or more. A tear fell onto a page, which he quickly cleaned with his handkerchief, and he blinked rapidly to prevent another from escaping.

Ten minutes later she appeared and sat down in an armchair opposite him.

"What brings you here, Will?"

"I've been wondering for years what became of you. I didn't know if you were still alive. And now I find you a housewife, happily married, with two children".

She smiled sadly. Perhaps she, too, had thought of an impossible dream.

"For years I thought you'd come to me, but I figured you'd forget me sooner or later, and you kept putting me off, or at least that's what it seemed like.

"I didn't put you off. I thought I couldn't come back. In fact, I didn't get a vacation for two years because I'd used them all up there in Málaga with you. But..., oh..., well, what's done is done. Are you doing well with your husband?"

"Ha. I don't have a husband".

"But the children... Is the oldest one mine?"

"I wish. No, he's that crazy guy from Córdoba we met in Madrid, I don't know if you remember him, Manolo".

"I remember him, yes, Manolo Rodríguez. The guy from Córdoba. You had a good time that night with him".

"Well, yes, why would I lie to you? Too good. And the fruit is my little Will".

"Will! Wow, I wasn't expecting that. I guess I left a good impression on you.

"Very much so. I fantasized about you coming to live with me".

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"It would have been forcing you. And I didn't want that. If you came, it would be of your own free will".

"So you didn't get married?"

"I did get married, but you don't know him. I ran into him two years later. His name is Inocencio. We signed a five-year marriage contract, and it expired months ago".

"What? What do you mean, it expired?"

"I already told you that in this country marriage isn't forever, Will. It's signed for five years. Then it's extended every five years, but if one of the parties doesn't sign, they're both free again, although they have to take responsibility for any children".

"So what happened? Why wasn't the extension signed?"

"The relationship didn't have much of a future, Will. He had his priorities, and so did I, but they didn't align. That's why neither of us suggested renewing it".

"So, you're single again".

"That's right".

"Good to know".

She smiled, amused.

"The fact that I'm single doesn't mean I want to get married again, Will. Especially not to someone who left me for a job in England".

"Don't be unfair, woman. I left wanting to stay. And it was more to stay with you than for this country, which also interested me, to tell you the truth. But seeing you again was my motivation to learn both your languages, and to come back to take the masonry exam, even though I don't need to anymore".

"Ah, so you're not staying".

"I don't know, Ainhoa. But I don't need to take the test on masonry because I did it in London. So I'm already a bricklayer with the right to work in the The Land of the South.

"Ah, congratulations. Have you thought about settling here?"

"That was my intention, but one of my reasons for doing so has just evaporated".

She looked at him with a sad smile. Yes, they had met at an important moment in their lives, and then they had drifted apart. She had stopped writing to him when she met Inocencio, but her mistake had been not telling him. At first, she thought nothing would happen with Inocencio, but then things got complicated, and she felt it was too painful to tell such a good man that she had left him for someone else..., if he even wanted her for anything, something he hadn't told her when he had the chance, but which was now obvious to her. Perhaps too obvious, so much so that he thought it didn't even need to be said. And yet now she had already told him too much.

Suddenly, she realized she had missed the opportunity to tell him everything in time. She regretted not having gone to see him in England to explain everything.

After a difficult silence, she managed to say:

"Do you have somewhere to stay?"

"I've been here for three days. I'm at the Hotel El Caminante. It's not very luxurious... and until today I haven't dared to come and see you. I knew you had two children, and I imagined you were with your husband. I wanted to see you before I left for Málaga, where I was so happy".

"We were, Will, we were. I was happy with you too. I'll never forget that charming apartment we shared. There's my nude photo, keeping that blondie's company".

"Haha, I knew you would. Well, I see you're okay. I can go now in peace. I wish you a long and happy life, with your two children".

"Stay with me tonight, Will".

"Why?"

"You're in my country. You've come to see me. Let me play hostess. For weeks I drove you around. For months I was yours, and you were mine. Let me love you a little. And then you can disappear from my life..., again. Give me a good memory, update me. You know, I think about you sometimes too. Maybe I've idealized you too much. And I suppose you have too... Let's bring each other down off the pedestal, Will, shall we?"

"The truth is, to be in my room alone, racking my brain over everything that could have been and wasn't.... yeah, okay, thanks. We can catch up, and then have dinner. And if necessary, I'll leave after that".

But he didn't leave. They told each other about their lives, things about the people they'd both met. He'd flirted with other girls too, but it never got serious with them because suddenly the memory of his Southern girl would get in the way, and he'd stop seeing them. He suspected that was going to change, although yes, he suspected that his disappointment had brought back the misogyny he'd had before meeting her.

She had also met other boys. But after a few months, her belly was showing, and she lost interest in dating. She worked as a taxi driver until her sixth month of pregnancy, when she had to quit due to physical limitations. Then she went to a childbirth preparation center for single mothers. She told Manolo what had happened, and he came for the birth. But he was living with another woman, so his help was more symbolic. When he broke up with his girlfriend, he went back to Málaga to see her, but she was already with Inocencio, who didn't mind that his wife had a child from another man; it was perfectly normal in such a society. Manolo understood, of course, but it's not clear why he disappeared from her life and their son's. She could have looked for him and demanded that he fulfilled his obligations, but she decided to let it go, and tell her son that his father was Inocencio.

"Do you remember?" she said as she served her dinner: "hake in butter".

"Our last supper, Ainhoa. You know only too much".

She smiled.

"It was a coincidence. I don't usually have fish, but I had these fillets, and it occurred to me that we could treat ourselves to something reminiscent of the old days. Along with this Ribera del Duero. Do you still like it?"

"I love it".

After dinner, they washed the dishes together and had a glass of liquor sitting on the sofa. At one point, she took his hand, and he pulled her closer, and what they had both wanted to happen for hours finally happened.

The next morning they awoke just like their first time: he was lying diagonally across the bed, and her head was on his chest, both naked and entwined.

Remembering it, he brought his mouth close to hers, and she awoke to his loving kiss. As before, she opened her mouth and caressed his tongue with hers, and they made love again. But there was an important change: now he was the one in control. He climbed on top of her and thrust into her with the regularity of a piston, or almost, eliciting a gasp from her with each thrust, until the gasp became a shriek, which he muffled with a kiss so the children wouldn't wake up.

"The children!" she said suddenly.

"What's wrong with the children?

"They'll be late for school".

They quickly got up, dressed, and she helped them up while he made them breakfast. Then they took them to school, and afterwards they walked back. They sat on a park bench, and he said with a rather cynical smile:

"We didn't have these problems before...

"No. We're grown up now. We have children".

"We have..."

"You're right, Will. I have".

He lowered his head, nodding.

"How long are you staying?

"I'm leaving this afternoon, Ainhoa, as I had planned. I don't want to disrupt your life, or mine. You have responsibilities... by the way, you haven't told me what you do for a living".

"I've gone back to teaching. I teach History at a high school nearby. I didn't have a class this morning".

"And how do you manage with the children?"

"When I can't be with them, a girl comes and looks after them. She's one of my students from last year".

"And she...? Oh, right, nobody pays anything here".

"That's right. She wants to be helpful, and she is by looking after children in her free time. Not just mine. I used to do that too when I was in college".

12 The Charming Man from Málaga.

Will took the train to Madrid and decided to spend a few days there. As he watched the landscape recede into the distance through the window, he noticed how different it was from the English countryside. There, everything was greener, and here, it was on a grander scale. Green, too, but the lesser rainfall was more than compensated for by the irrigation canals that appeared here and there. Agriculture was much richer, and he saw men and machines still working, presumably until nightfall.

He also saw a very curious farm: several fighting bulls were kept in enclosures. He hadn't visited the Málaga bullring because, in the bottom of his heart, he thought it was a cruel spectacle. But seeing those animals there, free to graze as they pleased, raising their heads and looking at the passing train, reminded him of the cattle farms he had seen in his home country: all the animals confined in a small space, with a conveyor belt bringing them food from the front and another one behind carrying away their waste. That life for them was miserable, condemned to prison simply because they were born. Moreover, almost all the males were slaughtered, and the females fattened up, while here he saw only males, though he assumed there were females among them. Yes, the Southerners were a peculiar people. Different customs, different values, different traditions. And now, another way of life, unique in the world.

Since he came back to the Land of the South, he had opted for public transportation. It seemed a much more enriching experience. Now he could talk not only to the taxi driver but also to the people who shared the ride with him. Next to him sat a young man who was still studying at the university in Madrid. He was in his field: the young man aspired to be an architect, something he would achieve in four years, he told him. In front of him sat a mother and her teenage daughter, and in the seat to his right sat two elderly people dozing. In the rest of the carriage were scattered people, each lost in their own thoughts.

The young man wasn't much of a talker, and after a short while, he excused himself to continue reading. It was a novel about bygone eras. It was called Crime and Punishment, by the Russian Fyodor Dostoevsky. He could have shared his thoughts on the book and the author, but he didn't want to distract him from his reading.

He himself was a voracious reader. But his reading had been in English. Now, if he stayed in this country, he assumed his reading would be in Spanish and Portuguese, languages he was growing increasingly fond of. He remembered his story with Ainhoa, the woman who had attracted him here, but whom —he was now astonished to discover— he could completely do without. How could that be explained? She was no longer the bright and witty young woman who had taken him halfway across the Iberian Peninsula. The real woman had banished from his mind the idealized Ainhoa he had constructed and nurtured for seven years. Now he finally understood what she had once explained to him, the concept of saudade: to yearn for what is gone and will never return, but to do so with pleasure, feeling grateful that it happened. "It's better,he told himself, to live and lose it than to have never lived it at all.

Now he decided to continue his journey around the remaining half of the country, yes, but not with her. Perhaps he would take public transport, why not? He found it more fun. And thanks to the state warehouses, he wouldn't have to carry a large amount of luggage, like the kind he had brought the first time. In fact, on this trip he had come with almost nothing. His thoughts returned to Ainhoa. No: now she was a hardworking housewife, with two children to care for, neither of them his, but the children of two different men. The truth was, he still didn't understand women, but now he was beginning to understand the people of this country better. They had carried out the revolution that the Bolsheviks and anarchists had attempted in their day, but without firing a single shot, without killing anyone, without even turning members of the same family against each other. And this had been made possible by the vision of an unforgettable man: James Tempered of the Hours. He would have time to learn more about him, since until now he had only received biased and disjointed reports about this man and this country.

When he tired of gazing at the scenery, he took his own novel from his back pocket. He had seen it at a kiosk in the station on his way to his train. He was amused to find it in Portuguese. How wonderful! he thought, I can practice the language of Ainhoa. It was titled A jangada de pedra. He opened it and began reading, which started with a line from Alejo Carpentier: All future is fabulous." He remembered that in English the title was The Stone Raft, and he was soon engrossed in the story, finding each sentence more interesting than the last. He was pleased to see that his C1 level in Portuguese was enough to perfectly understand what Nobel Prize winner José Saramago was telling him, more than a century after his death.

An hour later they arrived at Atocha Station in Madrid, and he sadly abandoned his reading. He said goodbye to the young man and wished him the best of luck in his future career, in which their paths might cross, since he was a bricklayer.

As he left the train, he realized that he and the young man had transformed that carriage into an impromptu library, where the rumble of the wheels on the tracks and other noises had ceased to exist for the two of them, one with the miseries of Roskolnikov, and the other with those of Joana Carda, Pedro Orce, Joaquim Sassa, José Anaiço, Maria Guavaira, and the Portuguese, Spanish, European, and American societies of the time. In short, he remained intrigued by where the Portuguese author's genius would flow throughout that novel of more than three hundred pages, and he was eager to discover it.

Before starting his reading, he had planned to spend the evening in Madrid's taverns, meeting people, chatting with the locals, and seeing some monuments at night. But instead, he looked for a guesthouse near the station, and once settled in his room, he lay down on his bed and continued reading, not finishing the book until six in the morning. He looked at the clock, shrugged, and, aware that he hadn't had dinner and might not have breakfast either, undressed and got between the sheets, resting until two in the afternoon.

When he woke up, he showered, dressed, and glanced at his book again. What a great man, that Saramago, he said to himself, tilting the book in his hand up and down. I'll read all your work, my friend, he told himself, in the original language.

He left the boarding house and sat at an outdoor table at a restaurant, El Rescoldo, which he assumed had recently opened, because when he had visited the capital seven years earlier, it hadn't been there. In its place, he thought he remembered, there had been a bookstore. He ate two courses and dessert slowly, with no company but his own thoughts.

Among them was the obviousness that he didn't need anyone to be happy. Well, perhaps he did, perhaps he needed friends like José Saramago and many other colleagues of that genius; but he didn't need any living person. What happened at Ainhoa's had been good, but after making love to her, he had come to the conclusion that she was just another person, one of so many others", so many— like those in his country and this other one he intended to explore, and perhaps adopt as his own, for he sensed that it took great doses of generosity, empathy, and solidarity", in a word, citizenship— to live without money. His people, the English, certainly didn't have them. And he couldn't imagine that such an experiment could succeed in any other nation on the planet. No, it required a unique character to pull it off. And that could only be found in the peoples of the Iberian Peninsula. They were Europe, yes, but from afar. Very far away. They were North and South at the same time.

At the end of the meal, he decided to stay in Madrid for a while. After leaving the restaurant, he headed to the National Library and asked for a copy of Don Quixote. For the next four days, he devoted himself to reading it, stopping only for dinner and to go to bed at his boarding house. Yes, Saramago and Cervantes had convinced him that this was a peculiar people, that by uniting had managed to square the circle.

When he finished reading, he considered staying in Madrid, but something essential was missing: the sea. And the proximity and joy of the far south. And, since Málaga was the city he knew best, he took the train in the morning and in just under three hours he was in his favorite city. London, Lisbon, Ávila, and Madrid were now behind him. Before him lay beautiful Málaga, Málaga La Bella as the song went... ah, no, it was Malagueña salerosa. Would he find his own Malagueña salerosa there? But, what need did he have? Now he was on his own personal quest, the quest for the holy grail of the essence of the Land of the South, and he thought he would find it in that city by the sea, the deep blue that always had fascinated by him, something he had lacked all his life in England and in the little he knew of Spain and Portugal.

13 Bricklayer again.

He remembered that in Málaga he only knew Elías, the taxi driver, and Estrella and Yolanda, the girls from the Hotel Durán. He stayed there again, but the receptionist was Julián, a somewhat older man who had just started working at the hotel. He was informed that the manager wouldn't be back until the next day, but it wasn't Estrella, but Yolanda. The former had left two years earlier to work up somewhere in the North.

After lunch he went out to look for a job. He told himself he'd had enough vacations, and that in a country where everyone was working it was indecent for him to be living the high life.

He visited several construction sites, but none of them were short of bricklayers. At one of them they told him he should go to the Public Works Department office, located on Sito Álvarez de Toledo Street, where they would inform him of any vacancies.

Indeed, he was told there that in a few days, perhaps a week, construction would begin on an apartment building with one, two, and three bedrooms, and two more skilled hands would be most welcome.

He took a long walk around the port, his favorite place, and on a fishing boat about to set sail, he asked the captain if he could join them to observe what they were doing, and the captain politely invited him aboard.

When they returned four hours later, he saw that the sea was wonderful, but also demanding, because those four men hadn't stopped working hard, except when the small boat had set sail and then when they cast the nets. Even then, they had been intently watching the nets' movements to know when to haul them back on board, and that had stressed him out, although those men, accustomed to their work, smiled peacefully and joked among themselves, but always keeping a watchful eye on the nets.

When they reached land again, he thanked those hardworking men and walked back to his hotel. There he met Estrella, who happened to be having dinner in the hotel restaurant when he arrived. At her invitation, he sat down at her table.

"Wow, I thought you'd been kidnapped somewhere..."

"In the South? Impossible." I've never felt safer than in your country, Estrella. But I heard you were working up north now...

"That's right. I'm working in Irún now. Instead of a hotel, I'm running a museum, the Dorta Museum, named after one of our most famous painters, who died a few years ago".

"So... what are you doing here?"

"I've come on holiday to see my parents and my sister. By the way, I'm staying at the Durán. Are you too?"

"Where else? And they've given me a room with a sea view, just like the one you gave me back then".

She stayed, sipping coffee while he ate dinner. They talked about what each of them had been doing, in a very general way, during the seven years they hadn't seen each other. She already had a few gray hairs, and he had a little less hair, which added a touch of mystery to their encounter. Neither then nor now did they mean anything to each other, except a little friendship and complicity.

"So what made you return to this country, Englishman?", she asked him between courses.

"Everything, Southerner. The people, the landscape, the climate, but above all, the sea".

"Isn't there a sea in England?"

"Of course there's a sea there. But it's not this one".

That made the woman laugh.

"So, you've fallen in love with the Mediterranean".

"I think so, Estrella".

"So, are you staying with us?"

"That's my intention. I start work next week".

And he explained his job search and the promise that he would soon be working on a construction project on the outskirts of Málaga.

"Did they grant you that you'd start working right away?"

"Well, they need people there..."

After dinner, they went back to the hotel, but not before she promised to help him find an apartment near the port so he could see the sea when he woke up in the morning.

Which she managed to do the next day with a phone call. That confirmed what they had told her in England: that In Spain, you'd better have a friend. Well, that wasn't exactly Spain, but the Land of the South. But perhaps Spain had always been the Land of the South, only no one had realized it until that genius of politics and social science, James Tempered of the Hours, designed the new system and secured the accession agreements with Portugal and Andorra, silencing the separatists of the North and East once and for all.

His apartment was very nice, bright, but sparsely furnished. It had only one bedroom, but it featured a large window that opened onto a balcony where a small table and a couple of chairs could fit, and from there he could have breakfast while watching the port and the fishermen busy with their preparations before heading out to sea.

The sea!, he said to himself. A cruel lover, the sea is! Even though he liked to gaze at it, he knew, when he went with the fishermen, that the sea wasn't for him. It was like those beautiful women you see on the street, and yet you're aware of the trouble it would be to live with them, and so you'd better let them pass.

He ate out, but then stopped by one of the food stores and filled a shopping cart and filled the refrigerator in his apartment.

The next day he went to the construction site where he'd been given a job, and the foreman told him that they had tried to contact him, as the work had started earlier than expected.

He gave him his new address. Yes, it was a mistake not to have given him the hotel address when he went to ask for the job, because—he lied—he hadn't checked into a room yet.

In the days that followed, he got used to the way things were done in the country, although he had already been given some basic knowledge in England. He met many colleagues, both men and women, who worked on the construction site, and he soon became friends with one of the administrative staff in the office. Her name was Rachel, and she was very funny. A little taller than him, she reminded him of Marisa, the woman from Madrid, but her personality was more like Estrella's.

Estrella... there was something about the former hotel manager that attracted him, perhaps it was her easygoing way of speaking, or the way she had approached him when they first met. Yes, he would have to see her more often.

Rachel was younger, but also more inexperienced. He liked talking to her, but she lacked the depth of the former hotel manager.

"Well, yes, I finished my doctoral thesis a while ago", Estrella told him when they met again and he asked her about it. "But I already told you that the last time you came. About Visigothic art. Don't you remember?"

"Oh, yes, of course. I got confused. It was the taxi driver who took me from Portugal to northern Spain and back here who didn't know if she was going to finish her thesis. The poor woman had two children and couldn't anymore".

"Nonsense, if she wants to she can. There are always people or institutions that can look after the children while she works at the university. Either she finished it, or she chose not to. Ask her".

So he did, on the way home. He didn't like having a cell phone, and since he didn't need one, no one gave him one. He came to the thought that in England everyone had one or two cell phones, and that way the government—perhaps the super-government, or the shadow world government—could know at all times what he was doing, who he was with, and how to neutralize him, if it wanted. That didn't happen in the Land of the South: there, everyone did what they wanted and worked peacefully in the job they desired. He didn't even have a landline at home. Near his building's entrance there was a public phone, from which he made calls or received calls if he had arranged with someone. Ainhoa did have a cell phone, a souvenir from her job as a taxi driver, where it was necessary.

After leaving work, before going up to his apartment, he called her.

"Ainhoa, how are you?"

"Oh, hi, Englishman. Have you got a job yet?"

"Yes, I have. As a bricklayer, hehe. And how's yours going?"

"Well... I'm on leave. It seems I have a high-risk pregnancy".

Good heavens! He started counting the months... was it possible it was his?

"Hey, I mean... Are you okay?"

"No, silly, it's not yours. Judging by the timing, I reckon it's my ex's, Inocencio's. Besides, I had a DNA test done, and it's a 90% match with his brother, my second kid, Enrique".

"Okay, well, take care. I'll see if I get some vacation time here, and I'll come visit you".

"You idiot! Do you think you're in England? Here you can take all the vacation time you want. But it wouldn't be right for you to go on a trip just a few days after starting work. Wait three or four months before paying me a short visit. We'll have a good time. When I give birth might be a good time, so you can help me out".

After chatting about some trivial things, they said goodbye, and he went upstairs to shower, have dinner, and then go to the movies, as he had plans with Rachel.

At the end of the night, she invited him to her place for a drink, but nothing happened, because he felt it wasn't a good idea to get involved with someone from work. The next day he met up with Estrella, they went to see another movie, and this time they did go to the hotel, to her room, which had a double bed, and they did what had to happen. When he woke up, he showered and then went down to the dining room for breakfast. There was no sign of Estrella. Then he had to rush, as his job at the construction site was starting.

He was on a team of ten bricklayers, who were working on cladding the structure that had already been erected with walls and interior partitions. The apartments that the building was going to have were one, two, and three bedrooms. It was a ten-story building, and he thought he would like to live in one of them, even though it was a bit far from the sea. But from there, he could see it. He had always thought he would like to live on a high floor, because the air was cleaner up there, or at least it should be.

14 The pupil.

Shortly after I started working there, he met a newcomer, Steven, a 20-year-old from Andorra, who had decided to leave the former independent territory for the warmer lands of the south.

"I've always dreamed of the sea", he told Will after becoming somewhat friendly. "And Málaga has always attracted me because of its history, its music, its people". There, in Andorra, I had a friend from Malaga who was always joking around, and here I am, looking for my charming Malaga girl, like the song says, I suppose just like you".

Looking for the charming Malaga girl that the song mentions, Will told himself. No, the truth was he wasn't looking for her. Should he? And what was he going to do with her, when it was so nice being alone? Besides, after the Spanish-Portuguese darling… the truth was he didn't know whether to go back to Ainhoa —and her three children, none of whom are his—, look for someone else, or just stay there, adrift, seeing which way the winds blow. What he was very clear about was that he wouldn't go back to England. This land had captivated him, and he would stay there forever.

And not only because of the climate and the warmth of the people, although that was part of it too, of course, everything helped; But this political system, established by the former Andorrans, Portuguese, and Spaniards, was unprecedented. And the best part was, it worked. It demonstrated the great error of Karl Marx: it wasn't enough for the workers to own the means of production; they had to go further: if capital was evil, then evil had to be eradicated, capital wiped off the face of the Earth, or at least from the land one stood on. Everything belongs to everyone, and everyone takes care of everything. That's why that Iberian Peninsula was now the most advanced country in the world, everyone working together for the common good, embracing the ideas of the most capable and carrying them through to their ultimate consequences. That's why they had won what they jokingly called Star Wars, a concept unknown to the rest of the world. And yet, in the Land of the South, everyone was aware of it. And, he supposed, all those who had ever visited it, if they had bothered to ask.

"So tell me, Steven, how's the search going for that, your Charming Girl from Malaga?"

"I'm getting by..."

"Have you met many?"

"Well, I don't go out much here. I don't have anyone to go out with. I know Rachel, from administration, but I haven't said anything to her..."

"Yeah, I also think you shouldn't mix work with your personal life. Then you break up with her and you have to keep seeing her. There's a wise old saying, you know: Don't put your dick where your pot is."

"No, boy, it's not that". "Well, with women... well, I just don't want to mess things up".

"Ha, you remind me of a friend in England, Patrick. He was like you, very shy around women, and he told me once that he was head over heels for a girl named Heather, a friend of mine, whom he'd never spoken to because he was afraid she'd think he was a fool. So, without hesitation, I introduced them. I said, Look, Heather, this is Patrick. You're the same age, and he really likes you. And then I disappeared".

"And what did they do?"

"She was silent, and he got really nervous. I don't know if they said anything, but afterwards my friend told me he'd never speak to me again". And that's how it's been until now".

"Well, you wanted to help him and it made things worse".

"That's why, Steven, I don't know what to tell you. If you want, we can go out this afternoon, after work, and take a walk around. If we meet any girls, watch what I do, and maybe it'll help you. But I won't mess things up again, not like that. Afterwards, I thought I was really rude, and the truth is, I really liked Patrick. It's a shame".

When the siren howled at six in the afternoon, the workers finished their job and headed for the exit. As they passed through the administration office, Rachel greeted them, giving Steven a special smile, which he didn't notice because he was looking at the ground.

"Well, I think Rachel likes you".

"Come on, don't be sarcastic".

"Yes, she smiled at you. If you were not looking down all the time, you'd notice what's going on up there".

"So what should I do?"

"Well, change your attitude, boy. Look straight ahead, and look up, like you're going to conquer the world".

"Hehe, that's easy to say. I'm sure you were a fool like me at my age too".

"No, not like you: more so", Will said to cheer him up, "but I got keener. I got married in England, and the happiest day of my life was when I got divorced. And now I flit from flower to flower, when I can, and when I can't, I suck it up, like everyone else".

"Damn the expert. Well, look, I'm going home, taking a shower, and we'll meet at eight. Okay?"

"Good. It sounds like a good plan".

Better dressed in suits and without the sweat and dust of work, they looked like different people. They went to a bar and had a couple of vermouths. There were people of both sexes, some in couples and some single, and Will joked around a bit with a couple of the women, who must have been friends. He struck up a conversation with the girls, who found his English accent curious.

"Are you really English?"

"Is it that obvious? Well, yes, I'm from London. Have you been there?"

"I hope I'll visit it someday. My name is Florinda, and this is Sara".

"Nice to meet you, Florinda, hello, Sara", Will said, giving each of them a couple of kisses.

After kissing them, he gave them a brief hug, almost as a courtesy. Then he introduced them to his friend:

"And this is Steven. He's from Andorra, so he's practically a foreigner here, too".

"Hello", said Steven.

"Nice to meet you, Steven. You're very handsome.

Poor Steven blushed deeply.

"Uh..., I..., I..., well, thank you, Sara.

And that was all he said. Will, on the other hand, joked with the two of them until Sara said they had to leave.

After they left, Will summarized to his friend:

"Steven, you can't just keep quiet. You had Sara wrapped around your little finger".

"I just didn't know what to do".

"What do you mean, you didn't? There I was, spouting nonsense about England and Málaga. You could have done the same. Didn't you see that I occasionally touched Florinda's arm when we were talking?

"And that's important?"

"She didn't pull away. She didn't touch my hand either, which would have been a sign that she wanted something. Body language is very important. More than what you say, it's how you say it, and what you do while you say it. Don't forget that". I would have gone in deeper if you had followed me.

"But… if I go all in, I might crash".

"Well, you have to know how far and how to go in".

"Yes, that's the problem, I don't know how to get going, so then it's harder to slow down, or even stop".

"Oh, Steven. You'll never get anywhere like that. What does it matter if you get a couple of slaps, if in the end you're going to succeed with one of them?"

"Have you ever been slapped?"

"None here, but in England, lots".

"You haven't messed with any of them either…"

"In bed, with two, since I've been here".

"And how long have you been in the country?"

"I was on vacation for a month and a half years ago, but now I've only been here a couple of weeks".

"And in a couple of weeks you've slept with two?"

"No, man. One". The other time was seven years ago, when I was here on vacation".

"Damn, boy, you're my hero!"

"No, boy, what you have to do is jump to the arena, as they say around here. Don't you like bullfighting?"

"Yeah, sure. But it's not the bullring I want to jump into".

"It depends on what you want, Steven. If you're looking for a girl to marry, it's different. If you're looking for one to have a good time, it's easier".

"And you're not looking to marry?"

"No, I've had enough with one. Olivia was lovely, but when she saw herself as a wife, she changed course, became demanding, and when we separated, I was much better off than I had been as a married man".

"You don't believe in marriage".

"Well, I prefer shareware. Do you remember what that is?"

"I don't…"

"It's a very old concept, from the 20th century. I read something about it the other day. Do you like to read?"

"I read very little. Just enough".

"Ah, well, you're missing out on one of life's greatest pleasures. Look, in an old novel, there was a character who, back when computers were just becoming popular, loved everything new, and when he discovered a program, he tried it out. From what I gathered, this whole shareware thing, which is a compound of two English words, share meaning to have in common, and ware originally meaning ceramic, but as a suffix meaning something like material, so shareware means something owned in common. The idea was that potential customers would try the program and, if they liked it, then they would pay the person who made it an amount that he had stipulated beforehand. And if they didn't like it, they got rid of it and that was that. In other words, the concept is try before you buy".

"And what does that have to do with birds?"

"Birds…, ah, with the women. Well, you have to try them out, not just in sex, but in everyday life. If you like a girl, the logical thing to do is move in with her—if you have formal intentions, as the old folks used to say—and if everything goes well, you sign one of those five-year contracts that have been so wisely designed here. And if you're a believer and she is too, after extending it two or three times, even better, Four, you marry her in church".

"You sure are moving fast. I haven't even met my girl from Malaga yet and you're already marrying me off to her…"

"Well, that's the theory. In practice, I don't plan on getting married again".

"And what if you have a child?"

"Well, that's her problem. I'd give her a hand if she needs it, because she's the one who decided to have it, so she can keep it".

"Damn the English. You guys are so resourceful!"

"No, the normal thing in England is to be like you: you meet a woman, you marry her, and then you both try living together in love and respect. It just didn't work out for me. It's like playing the lottery: you can win the jackpot, Heaven, or a consolation prize, or Hell, and if you don't win the jackpot, the best thing is getting your refund.

"Well, I don't know. With all this eye-opening, I think I'm going to give up on marriage and even romances for the time being".

"Good, Steven. We have to have fun. They like it too".

They went into a restaurant, El Algarrobo, for dinner. There they saw Florinda and Sara, but they didn't say anything to them, because they were with two guys, and apparently they were having a great time. The four of them laughed from time to time.

"Watch out for Sara", Will told his friend, "she looks at you from time to time".

"Okay, fine. Just ignoring her is enough".

"Well, that's not going to be possible. She's waving at us..."

Will approached the table, and Steven saw him talking to Sara. She nodded and looked back at Steven, who this time couldn't help but return her greeting. Will gestured for him to come closer.

"Look, Steven. Sara and Florinda are here. These are Zoilo and Calisto. They've invited us to their table. How about we have dinner with them?"

It all seemed arranged, although it was obvious it wasn't. Steven sat down in the first place he found, coincidentally next to Sara. Will sat opposite, next to Florinda.

"Was this your rush to leave early?"

"We had plans with these two", Sara said almost in his ear.

"Oh. And why did you call us? A double date is supposed to be just the four of you, two by two".

"Well, these guys are such loudmouths. They're just spouting nonsense. We called to see if they'd tone it down a bit. I hope you don't mind".

"No, of course not, Sara. I like you a lot".

Will was telling some funny anecdotes about England, because the other three were laughing a lot at the things he was saying. But Sara wouldn't let him join in the general merriment at the table:

"Don't you miss Andorra?"

"Well, no, not really. My parents and siblings are there, but I've always been drawn to this southern part of the country. And here I am, in Málaga".

"Ah, just like me".

"Aren't you from Málaga?"

"No, actually I was born in Santander, but I always lived in El Valle de Villaverde, a town in my province nestled in another, in Vizcaya. Until I decided to go see the world, and I landed here".

"Ah, I thought you were from here..."

"Well, no. I'm what used to be called a Santander native, but now they call me a Cantabrian. And we have a sea, the Cantabrian", she laughed.

Well, some luck!, Steven thought. The one who actually pays attention to me isn't from Malaga.

Those two guys were really fun, Aitor and Alfonso. But when they saw that those two foreigners were getting along so well with their supposed dates, got out as soon as they finished dinner:

"Well, guys, we two are leaving", said Alfonso. "Have fun".

They had coffee, but there wasn't any general conversation; instead, Will was really going at it with Florinda.

"Wow, those two aren't paying any attention to us".

"Well, let's go", Sara said.

"Go? Where to? I came with this guy, he's the one who knows the places around here".

"Oh, don't be silly. I know a thing or two... There's a place to dance nearby".

"A disco?"

"Better: a ballroom. I prefer formal dances, with a real orchestra, not records at an unbearable volume. Will you come?"

She had already stood up, so he had no choice but to choose between her and his friend, and something was already telling him that if he stayed he would be in the way, because Will seemed to have already achieved his goal...

"I wouldn't turn down such a tempting offer, ma'am", he said, standing up and taking the girl by the arm.

"Okay, Will, see you tomorrow", he said.

Will looked at him as if waking from a dream, and said, with a knowing look:

"Ah, okay, Steven. Have a good time".

And he turned back to Florinda and continued talking to her.

In that dance hall, they were playing some lively, upbeat music, so people were dancing freely. They joined in the general revelry, but without straying too far.

They were very close to each other. A while later, they began to play a slow waltz, and they embraced to continue dancing. She pressed herself quite close to him, and he became slightly aroused by the contact of her skin and her breath.

The next morning, the sun on his face woke our English friend. It was just dawn. Beside him lay that strange woman from the South, sleeping peacefully. And he felt like he owned the world. He had triumphed! No, she wasn't from Malaga, but from Cadiz, a little further South West... but what did it matter? He gazed at her in the dawn light, her makeup smudged, without lipstick because—he assumed—he had removed it with kisses, and he stared at her intently. She was a woman of about 30, with dark, gypsy-like features, very straight hair, very dark skin, rather thin, about the same height as him—he remembered from when they had danced—who, it seemed, had seen much more of the world than he did. And her eyes... at that moment she opened them and saw that they were as black as night. Her pupils were indistinguishable from the rest of her irises.

She smiled at him.

"Welcome to the world of the living, Sleeping Beauty", he said, laughing.

She snuggled up to him, and Will hugged and kissed her.

And they made love again.

When they finished, they had a couple of glasses of sherry and talked about their lives. We'll skip over what was said about Will's, since we already know it, though not about Florinda's...

"And what do you do, Englishman?"

"Oh, my life is boring: I'm a poor bricklayer who just landed in your country. And you? How do you make a living?"

At once he realized he'd put his foot in it, once again.

"Hehe, how do I make a living?", she repeated slowly. "Well, I suppose you mean what I do, what job..."

"That's right, that's what I meant, sorry".

"Okay. Well, I'm an actress. I'm working now in a small theater, in a play that's been running for five years. I don't know if you're familiar with it. It's called Tartessos..."

"Tartessos? No, I've never heard of it". "What's it about?"

"It's a historical reconstruction of the first known civilization of the Southern Land, a country that stretched from the southern third of Portugal to the Levant, encompassing everything we now know as the Portuguese provinces of Beja and Faro, and those of Andalusia and Murcia, more than three thousand years ago".

"Ah, that sounds interesting. What role do you play?"

"I play Laia, the daughter of Gárgoris, the first of its kings, who had Habidis with me as a result of an incestuous sexual encounter".

"Ah, that sounds interesting, quite uncon­ventio­nal. Are you the protagonist?"

"Oh, no. My character is quite marginal. I'm on stage for barely ten minutes, out of the three hours the performance lasts".

"Ah, well, I'll come see you. I'm sure you'll do well".

"Well, I'm one of the ten actors left from the original cast five years ago, out of a total of 90. Imagine, five days a week, two performances, ten months a year..."

"Wow, that's... 520 performances! Your character speaks for herself now, doesn't she?"

"Not that many. Don't forget we take two months off each year. That's only 440 performances since we first raised the curtain. Yes, it's true, the play practically runs itself, so to speak, although every time the curtain rises, some of us are nervous, if not all of us. It's like every time it's the première".

Will had always admired actors, both in film and theater. Bringing a character to life, especially one from the past, when your life is so different from theirs, must have been difficult, very difficult. He couldn't..."

"But only ten minutes... and what do you do the rest of the time?"

"Well, I'm an extra, blending in with the others, when the main characters need backing vocals. I also sing offstage, along with eight other actors. But, besides, after so long we all know our lines by heart, so I could play any other actress's role, including—of course—the lead's, if she's unavailable. In fact, I've even had to play two roles on occasion, in two different eras, since that Kingdom lasted for more than a thousand years, as far as we know".

"Is this your first play?"

"Yes, and if things continue like this, it could also be the last one. Of course, if we ever change it, I'm going to miss it a lot".

"And what does that depend on?"

"On the number of people who come to see us. When a play has a full house for many consecutive days, and people can't get in because there's no room, it's moved to a larger theater with a bigger capacity, and if, on the other hand, the audience is small, it's moved to a smaller theater".

"And has that affected you in the past?"

"We were at the Apolo Theatre, the main one in Malaga, but we only lasted two months. Then people started to stop coming, and we gradually lost our status until we ended up at the Mercurio, which has barely two hundred seats. If you want, you can come see us sometime... while we're still around".

"And when people stop coming to see you, what will you do?"

"Another play, of course".

"Then you'll have to spend some time preparing it, right?"

"We don't work like that here, Will. What you're saying happens when the backup play also fails a few days after opening".

"Ah, how cautious..."

"That's what we do. We always have a play in reserve. We could première Jimena tomorrow, a play about the legend of the wife of Rodrigo Díaz de Vivar, nicknamed El Cid. But every so often we adapt another play. Since we started, we've prepared three, just in case this one and the next one fall through...

Well, yes, Will thought, these people are certainly cautious.

The sun streamed in through the window, but it didn't seem to bother them. Will thus got a better look at the body of that dark-haired woman —perhaps of the race of the pharaohs, aka gypsies— who was telling him such curious things about the culture of the people of the South.

"And tell me... who chooses these plays? Do you all vote on them?"

"That would be a mess. The company director and the writer would agree, then find the actors they need, and assign the roles. If you don't like the one you've been given, you leave and they find someone else. But that doesn't usually happen".

"Writer? Do you only perform your own plays?"

"No, man. We call the adapter a writer. Sometimes we perform plays exactly as the original author wrote them, but it's common to adapt them to special circumstances, for example, if no one suitable has been found for a minor role, their performance can be added to that of another minor character. But when a play doesn't exist, it can be adapted from a novel or a historical event. And that's the writer's job, in conjunction with the director, who are the two driving forces behind the theatrical work. They are the ones who work the hardest and the ones the public knows the least. This one we're doing now, Tartessos, was written by Luciano López, our writer, from texts that are five thousand years old, while Jimena comes from a poem, El cantar de mío Cid (The Song of My Sir), which is much more modern; and Los árboles mueren de pie (Trees die standing up) is another one we have. The backup version is by a more recent playwright, Alejandro Casona, and therefore the adaptation has been much less extensive".

"But I suppose that once you've learned the play and are performing it, the writer doesn't do anything anymore, right?"

"Hehe, he has to make sure that none of us gets too creative and improvise too much, although sometimes he finds one of those spontaneous improvisations appropriate and incorporates it into the play. That's why he has to attend all the rehearsals and performances from the front row, mingling with the audience; but he also continues writing, although he does so in a somewhat anarchic way, and now he says he's finishing a play that will bring us back to the Apolo. Luciano says it will be impactful and famous, since it deals with a long-standing taboo subject, but he tones it down enough for the audience to enjoy it. His name is Thanatos".

"The god of Death".

"That one".

"And what role would you play?"

"He told me I'll be Thanatos' muse, and that my role lasts almost for an hour, since I'll be conversing with Thanatos without the other characters seeing me, because after all, I'm the one who inspires him".

"So, the protagonist".

"In a way, although the real protagonist is Sergio Méndez, the one who will impersonate Thanatos".

They spent the rest of Sunday together, but as night fell, our bricklayer went home to rest, because a hard day's work awaited him the next day. In the future, he would see Florinda again occasionally, but more as a friend, the kind that fades away, although he did go to see her perform frequently, with Steven and some other friends of both sexes.

The Monday after the scene we just witnessed, the two friends were back at work, laying bricks on the fourth floor of that huge building that was going to have eighty apartments of different sizes. He got a particular thrill out of going up there when the elevators and stairs were still missing.

"So, what happened with that Florinda, Englishman?"

"The truth is, she's a wildcat in bed. But she's also a very interesting person. She's an actress. And she's in a play at the Mercurio Theater. Are you coming to see her play this evening?"

"It'll be interesting, yeah, sure. But did you get very close to her? I wonder if you've fallen in love!"

"No, boy. There was some intimacy, yeah, but just the fleeting kind. I suppose she's not interested in getting married, and neither am I. She's nice and friendly, but that's all. And how's Sara?"

"Good. Eight in total".

"Eight? Wow, you newbie! You leave me speechless. So, are you going to marry her?"

"I don't think so, old boy, she's ten years older than me".

"Don't be silly. Enjoy it while you can". And if she gets all high and mighty and wants papers, out the door".

"Come on, it's not like that".

"You're not going to marry the first girl who comes along..."

Two days later, they went out with two other women, more their age, 40 and 20, mother and daughter by chance, and the elmer once again triumphed again, although Steven had to spend the night talking with the mother, Roberta, until she took him to her home, while Will deflowered Mercedes, who was indeed triumphing, at the Plaza Hotel, by the way.

Steven followed Will's wise advice and never saw her again for erotic purposes. He did run into her a few months later at Will's house, when he had settled down, but The young man didn't remember the older woman, who did have fond memories of him, but nothing came of it because, as she would later tell Will, "There are some things that are better left as they are. It's one thing to give yourself a little pleasure, and another to play with other people's feelings".

"Damn, Will, I guess I have a way with older women", he told him the day after his conquest with Roberta.

"Wow, you're lucky, Steven. They won't bother you so much. They might even act like mothers and pamper you. If I were you, I'd let them".

"She's a professor of contemporary history at the University of Málaga, the oldest one, Will. And the truth is, her lectures are very informative. I like them. And she's from Málaga and has a great sense of humor, despite being so old".

However, William did see her again. It was one afternoon, when they ran into each other after leaving the cinema. They had seen Gone with the Wind, and they sat on a terrace chatting about the film, about American society at that time, the 19^th century, racism, the American, French, and Southern Revolutions, each with its own unique characteristics that distinguished it from the others.

"There's something I don't understand about your revolution, Roberta, because it's undeniable that changing from a parliamentary monarchy to a representative republic like yours without bloodshed, like the one the French did centuries ago, is inexplicable".

"Perhaps you should sign up for the course I teach at the university. It's called Contemporary History, and it covers everything from the reign of Queen Eleanor, a century and a half ago, to the present day, including the reign of Queen Alice, Eleanor's direct granddaughter".

"Perhaps you could give me a summary?"

"Ugh, we'd have to leave out many of the causes that truly interest you. It was indeed a revolution, if we consider the final result independent of its causes, but it was really an evolution that followed a process devised by a visionary who managed to convince his contemporaries to emerge from the political lethargy that had characterized them since the Middle Ages".

15 The Break.

They arranged to meet the following week. She promised him a longer conversation on the subjects that so interested him. The afternoon was still early; they had just finished coffee on the terrace, and it was Saturday, so he didn't have to go to work that afternoon, and she..., well, she taught her last lesson on Thursday, and wouldn't have another one until Tuesday.

"I suppose, Will insisted, "that Spain didn't go to bed as a monarchy and woke up the next day as a republic, like in 1931..."

"No, of course not. First, there was something we studied in history called The Break".

"What was that?"

"There were a series of strikes, and a lot of social unrest. There were those who demanded the beheading of Queen Elizabeth III, and she and her family fled to the American Embassy, ​​which granted them political asylum, while in Spain the Third Republic was pompously proclaimed.

"And what happened to the Queen?"

"Nothing. The Americans managed to get the Royal Family out of the country and took them to England, where they remained in exile for several years, while in Spain some of the vices of the Second Republic reappeared, although this time there was no religious persecution. Bullfights and solemn processions of Holy Week were even restored in all the major cities and towns. The people had matured enough to understand that traditions had to be respected, but the country was still in the hands of the political parties, and the popular politicians were quite vulgar, so the military finally carried out a coup and restored the monarchy four years after the popular uprising".

"Spain became a monarchy again".

"Yes. A parliamentary monarchy, like England's. For the first time, each district could finally elect its representative, regardless of party affiliation. But the system still did not separate powers, because the representatives continued to elect the Prime Minister".

"...and that was not good".

"No, my dear, because the vices of the old regime had reappeared: there was corruption, although more subtle, because now citizens could vote against corrupt representatives. But the ministers maneuvered and bought and sold favors. In short, a disaster".

"How long did Queen Elizabeth's reign last?"

"Oh, no, it wasn't her. One condition they set for restoring the monarchy was that she must abdicate in favor of her 16-year-old daughter, Queen Alice. Alice didn't have much power, but she used the little the constitution gave her wisely, and that pleased the citizens very much. Queen Elizabeth was the first", and the last", queen to retire.”

“I don't understand, if she was such a good queen, why is this now a republic?”

“Because of the revolution.”

16 Long live revolution!

The afternoon was growing dark, first with clouds that threatened rain, but hours passed, though it wasn't very noticeable because the sun was setting. Will and Roberta took the opportunity to have dinner, and between bites they continued their conversation.

"So they ended up cutting off poor Queen Alice's head, too..."

"No, man, no. It wasn't a bloody revolution, like the French Revolution of the 18th century or the English Revolution of the 17th. But it was a revolution because everything changed from top to bottom".

"How was that possible?"

"It was due to an unknown politician who appeared in the Congress of Deputies and who had very clear ideas. His name was James Tempered of the Hours. And he convinced the members of parliament that things wouldn't change overnight, but they could be changed much more radically over time, so that everyone would end up happy. And without having to frighten or kill anyone.

"Where did that man come from?"

"He came from a lower-middle-class family. His father was a school caretaker, and his mother was a childcare worker. Money wasn't plentiful in his home, although he always lived in the caretaker's apartment, in the school building itself. He witnessed social inequalities firsthand, and he wondered how they could be eliminated, or at least mitigated, and that became his field of research throughout his life. Thanks to his parents' great sacrifice, he was able to study at the Faculty of Education and became a schoolteacher, a somewhat denigrated profession in those years, despite it having been, in fact, the profession of the Master of Masters, Jesus of Nazareth, although in those days there weren't schools like the ones we have now".

"A schoolteacher... Did he actually teach?"

"He took the competitive exams, and they sent him to a small town. Back then there was a lot of online interaction, and those who weren't glued to streaming platforms and social media could learn whatever they wanted, because culture was there for anyone who wanted to acquire it, and he did. He realized that everything he'd been told was a lie, especially after stumbling upon a rather strange association called MCRC, or Citizen Movement for the Constitutional Republic. He bought every book they published and devoured them almost in one sitting, starting one as soon as he finished another, until he'd read all the work of its founder, Antonio García-Trevijano Forte, and that of his followers Dalmacio Negro Pavón, Álvaro Bañón, Fernando de las Heras López, and above all, Pedro Manuel González, who together wrote a total of 400 books on political theory. That opened his eyes completely, and he became a member of the movement. One of the things that struck him most was that this group of people didn't want to participate in politics as a party because they said—and worst of all, they proved it—that in that corrupt regime everyone ended up becoming corrupt because it was based on corruption, vote-buying, illegal methods of pressure, and above all, committing illegal acts for which criminal and political responsibility was covered up by everyone. When he felt ready, he founded a political party: Spain for All (SFA, EPT in Spanish, España para todos), the objectives of which were to return sovereignty to the people by calling elections to a Constituent Assembly, to respect everybody's ideas and especially the people who held them, and to warrant the basic rights that would be defined in the new constitution, many of which were already included in the existing one.

»Against all odds, he found followers and sponsors on social media, and was able to run in the next elections, overcoming all the obstacles that the politicians in power at the time could put in his way. They said the EPT was the true far right and that the country would go bankrupt if this new party won the elections. But the people were fed up with all the talk, with the same old politicians promising the same things only to do the opposite without consulting anyone. Tempered's party won 262 out of 350 seats, which led to protests organized by the left-wing parties, joined by supporters of the right-wing parties. The police were overwhelmed, and almost all the EPT's provincial headquarters were destroyed in a single night.

»But as soon as James Tempered of the Hours took office, the people realized that there was, thankfully, at least one politician in the world who kept his promises: instead of 20 ministries, as had become the norm in all previous governments, President Tempered didn't create any. He appointed only five secretaries, with whom he hoped to govern effectively, and he certainly succeeded.

»The Government was formed with the President himself, a Secretary General who would keep him informed of all important matters and present the most urgent issues for his signature, and a Secretary of Finance, a Secretary of Health, a Secretary of Public Instruction, and a Secretary of Defense. All received salaries as Secretary Generals, not as Ministers, and the salaries of former ministers, former presidents, and former members of parliament were eliminated from the outset, with their pensions being calculated according to the same requirements as those of all other Spaniards.

»The Secretary General met with the President twice a week, and there was a Cabinet meeting—that is, the President with all the secretaries—every Friday. Furthermore, each secretary had the right to be received by the President of the Government at any time, for any reason, without prior appointment. Another game-changer was that he chose the five secretaries from among the most capable people he could find in the country, none of whom were members of parliament. The Secretary General would replace the Prime Minister in case of incapacity or urgent need.

»But that wasn't a fundamental change. It was all well and good to gloss things over..., but wasn't it true that the system corrupted those in power?

»The truth is that the Master President, as the people soon nicknamed him, didn't allow time for that to happen: as soon as he came to power, the government approved the introduction of a new currency, the Escudo, worth 2 euros and with two denominations: the duro, of which there were twenty in each escudo, and the peseta, of which there were one hundred in the escudo and five in the duro".

"But... but... what about the euro?"

"The euro remained legal tender in Spain, but the escudo was a new fiat currency and as such valid only within the country, since it wasn't intended for use outside of Spain's borders, not even in Portugal, which had used a currency with that name in the past. Many nostalgic Portuguese crossed the border to get escudos and used them in Spain".

"And didn't Europe protest?"

"Obviously. They protested at all levels, but it was an internal matter for Spain, and therefore Europe had no say".

"And what does fiat mean?"

"It was a matter of faith: the government said one escudo was worth two euros, but only within Spain. And although there was no precious metal, like gold or silver, to back it up, only the government's promise, some people, especially those with the most euros saved, objected. But the lower classes were lifted out of poverty because the government established a universal basic income of one thousand escudos for every Spaniard. If they also had a job, the minimum wage was set at another one thousand euros, in addition to the RUB (Renta Universal Básica in Spanish, Universal Basic Income). Furthermore, the obligation to pay income tax and to file an income tax return declaration was eliminated, the latter becoming voluntary".

"You're talking about science fiction, Roberta. I don't think that happened. So how did the members of parliament, the government, etc., live? And how were public hospitals, roads, and schools financed —which is what everyone always speaks about them being paid for with taxes?

"Hehe, that's the complaint foreigners always make. Healthcare was declared a basic public good by Tempered's government, as were university education and decent housing. But the money was easy to come by: when needed, more escudos were minted, and all that was spent was paper".

"But that money was worthless".

"Outside of Spain, nothing. Inside Spain, two euros each. Once the whole population accepted it, there were no problems whatsoever. Many houses were built, immigration was controlled by expelling all those without papers, although skilled immigrants were requested from various countries—especially in South America— to help revive the country's economy, and national livestock farming, agriculture, and industry were promoted. But the most astute move was a strange investment that saved many thousands of escudos..."

"Did they discover oil?"

"Better: they declared the internet a basic necessity and made it free for every Spaniard. This way, everyone could be in contact with everyone else, and especially the government with each and every one of them. This revolutionized society to such an extent that the government could know the opinion of every citizen. They only had to ask them".

"And did they ask them?"

"On many occasions there were officials whose sole mission was to drift directed traffic to the designated individuals and report to their superiors if they had any doubts. In return, each citizen had immediate contact with their district representative".

"And where did they get so many civil servants?"

"From the autonomous communities, which were downsized far more than seemed possible: they were stripped of almost all their powers, leaving them with ten representatives and three councilors, in addition to the President. More than enough".

"Well, well..., but that doesn't explain the money".

"There was much more to it, yes", Roberta said, taking the last sip of wine from the bottle they had finished between them.

Then, half-closing her eyes, in a softer, sweeter voice, she pleaded:

"What if we leave the rest for another day? I'm falling asleep... Come on, walk me home".

William Webb behaved like a gentleman: he walked her home, helped her to her bedroom, laid her down on her bed, covered her with a blanket, and then, tired himself, collapsed onto the sofa at full length.

The next morning, he was awakened by the sunlight streaming through the window.

Damn it! he said to himself, looking at the wall clock, I'm going to be late for work!

And then he realized it was Sunday. He would not go back to work for another day.

He threw off the covers and then realized something that surprised him: he wasn't on the sofa, but in bed. Next to him, also naked, Mercedes was still asleep. What kind of wonder was this? He had accompanied his mother the night before, practically carried her to bed, and he had lain down on the sofa, fully clothed and uncovered. And now he woke up completely naked in a bed he shared with the daughter of his date from the night before, who was also completely naked, and who was even holding his hand, still asleep… But Mercedes had gone out with young Steven the night before. What had happened?

Stealthily, he let go of the girl's hand and got up. He got dressed and went over to the refrigerator.

When he had already toasted a couple of slices of bread and was spreading butter and jam on them, Mercedes appeared. He put another cup of coffee in the microwave and offered his to the girl, who appeared naked and sleepy.

"Good morning, Beautiful Mercedes!", he greeted.

"Oh, hello, Englishman. What were you doing lying on my sofa?"

"Oh, I was exhausted after spending a pleasant time with your mother".

"Did you have sex? I don't understand your sofa..."

"No. We didn't sleep together, not before, not after. I enjoyed her conversation. She's lovely".

"Yes, like a snake charmer's flute. Be careful. With her smooth talk, she'll make you do whatever she wants".

"Well, she succeeded: it's the first time I've gone out with a woman and not slept with her or turned her away at the door".

"Hehe, don't tell me she blocked your desires to conquer…"

"I'm more interested in what's in your mother's brain than what's below, Mercedes. Besides, I'm with you".

That puzzled the girl.

"What does that mean?"

"That I can't have two women at the same time, even if they're mother and daughter. And even if they're as beautiful as you two are".

Mercedes stared at the man as if she didn't understand what he was saying.

"Have you fallen in love with me?", she said after a long silence.

"It's not that. I like you, I had a good time with you, and I feel like there might be something more between us..."

"Okay", she interrupted. "I was thinking about how to find you, and suddenly you appear lying on my sofa. It's incredible".

"And how are things with Steven?"

"He's a nice guy, but he's a bit of a loner, and although he's a good conversationalist, he's very immature. I prefer older people, like you, who say things that intrigue me, and from whom I can learn a lot, instead of listening to someone who only knows how to talk about themselves, what they're like, and their town. With you, I can even learn English", she finished with a wink.

"Yet you spent the night with him..."

"The whole night. Talking. From coffee shop to coffee shop until he got sleepy and I took him home".

"You took him? How?"

"By taxi. You seem silly".

"But I... I'm not the polite person you imagine, Mercedes. I never went to university. Perhaps you were seduced by my appearance and imagined the rest".

"Maybe, Will, but there's something about you that tells me that's not quite right".

They finished breakfast, and she approached him and wrapped her arms around him.

"Come on, let's go to bed again, my seducer.

"Huh? What happened last night?"

"You were getting cold, with the day's sweat soaked into your clothes. I undressed you and laid you on my bed. Was I wrong?"

"No, of course not. And you didn't do anything else?

"What was I supposed to do? You were fast asleep, and that wouldn't be fun, if that's what you mean. It seems we're not as basic here as they are in England...", she said, squeezing his arm.

"And why do you want to take me back to your bed?"

"That's why, silly, for the fun".

For the next hour and a half, they had their fun. They were still in the middle of their own thing when they heard a door open, and then close with a bit of a thud.

"Mercedes!", they heard Roberta's soft voice, "are awake?"

"I'm here, Mom, in the bedroom".

Will looked at Mercedes incredulously. Was this a trap? Oh well, he'd play along".

Roberta stood in the doorway, surprised to see the couple dressed in their lovemaking attire, she still on top of him".

"Oh, well, you don't waste any time. I see, Englishman, that you've come to live with us. That's why you didn't leave".

Will stared at Roberta, speechless, and then at Mercedes, who was looking at him expectantly.

What the hell! he thought to himself. And grabbing both of Mercedes's buttocks, he declared:

"Of course. Why not? Living with you, Mercedes, and your mother, will be quite an experience. You're the best mother-in-law anyone could ask for, Roberta".

They got out of bed, showered, and Mercedes accompanied him to gather his belongings, moving them all at once, since he didn't have that much: two suits for going out, two for work, several spare clothes, and three pairs of shoes.

When they returned home, they found dinner ready. Roberta apparently wanted to celebrate the growing family.

"Hey, we're on probation, I haven't committed to anything..."

"Neither have we. We're not asking anything of you, Will. But we want you to feel at home, and to know you're valued here".

At that moment, he couldn't help but remember, in a flash, Olivia, and his life with her. How happy that first day of marriage had been. And how badly the marriage had ended, how it had gradually deteriorated in such a short time. That's why now, even though Mercedes, at her young age, possessed such powerful feminine wiles, he wasn't expecting much, other than good sex and extracting a lot of information from his supposed mother-in-law.

After lunch, he was the one who washed the dishes, while the women did their own thing. When they met again in the dining room, he was already watching the news on television.

"We're going to Mass now", Roberta told him.

"Huh? To Mass? I thought nobody went to Mass here".

"Well, we go together every Sunday, and on other days we often go separately. We have so much to thank God for. Are you coming?"

"I..., well, I haven't been since I arrived in the country. I prefer to stay home and get my things in order", he said, touching his temple.

"Oh, Will", Mercedes said, "don't think so much, you'll upset yourself. Okay, see you later", she finished with a kiss.

The mother and daughter touched up their makeup in front of the hall mirror and went to the Church of the Forsaken, their parish, to give thanks to God and say prayers.

Will lay on the sofa, thinking about what had happened in the last few days, ever since he had accompanied his disciple into the world of flirting. Now Steven seemed like a mere memory, and he had plunged headlong into the lives of those two women, radically changing his own. From finding happiness in solitude, he had suddenly ended up in that house with two women, captivated by the daughter's sex appeal and, above all, by the mother's mind and personality. She had seduced Steven, but—now he understood the boy—he was like a little dog—not to say a puppet—in her hands. What thoughts did she harbor about him?

As for Mercedes' thoughts about him, they were clear: she was still unaware of her father's role in her life, but she had chosen him seeking protection, ensnaring him between her legs and arms, absorbing him with her fiery mouth, but above all with the most devoted submission. And now she had gone with her mother to thank God for her conquest.

Will showered, drank some coffee, got dressed, and left the house. They hadn't given him a key, but He assumed they would be back when he returned.

Yes, it was Sunday, and he had never missed Sunday Mass. But since arriving in the South, he hadn't set foot in a church, except as a tourist. He had felt awe in Toledo Cathedral and the Church of La Macarena in Seville, but he hadn't felt the need to go to see God. He hadn't felt the need or the obligation to do so, as he did in England, where there was no Sunday without Mass, because it was necessity and obligation, not devotion, that drew him to the church. Here he felt more religious than there, he felt God more than in England, but he felt that the South was Heaven, and in Heaven you don't have to go to Mass...

He left the house and wandered through several streets. He sat on a stone bench in Duck Square and watched the majestic movement of some swans, heard the ugly quacking of narrow-billed ducks, and observed the brief flapping of the pigeons that occasionally crossed the air of that vast square, searching for food, while he thought about how fortunate he was, about the affection God had shown him by allowing him to be there, in that country where stress and anxiety had no entry visa, and also by bringing him to those two women who together formed the perfect woman whose existence he had always imagined. Or was this a curse that the Almighty had imposed on him in return for having allowed him entry into Paradise? Those two women gave him everything and demanded nothing, at least not for the moment.

He saw some children giving breadcrumbs to the pigeons, which approached them and surrounded them, pecking at the ones on the ground. Some, braver ones, perched on his arm to eat directly from his hand. He imagined he was a dove, and that little girl was Mercedes. She could simply close her hand to capture the bird and do with it as she pleased: kill it, eat it, or at least break its wings so it couldn't fly away.

The wings…, the wings that had sprouted on him when he entered that paradise. Suddenly, he thought that if he had studied when he could, he would now be an architect, like that young man he had met on the train to Madrid, coming from Ávila, when he went to visit Ainhoa. And why not? He could attend night classes to prepare for the University Entrance Exam, and if he persevered, in a few years he could be designing buildings instead of laying bricks wherever others told him to. So, the next day, Monday, he decided to find out how to attend those night classes. He felt that there, he could. In England, he had settled for the life of a bricklayer's assistant, since it was said that he wasn't cut out for studies, that he was good for nothing else. But in the Land of the South, he felt like the master of the world. Or at least the master of his own life, which was something far more valuable.

He got up and started walking, wondering if he would find any open bars. He found two. He went into the one furthest away, which had the curious name of Bar Tajurgo. The gorge of the town? he joked to himself as he sipped a cognac.

He took a long walk through the town center, sat down at the port to watch the ships, and as the sun dipped below the horizon, he decided to walk home slowly, savoring the sight of the buildings, the streets, the people, feeling that at last he belonged there by right.

He snapped out of his reverie when he saw himself in front of Roberta's house..., that is, his house from that day on. He declined the elevator and climbed the 40 steps that separated the apartment from the street, still lost in thought, counting every step one by one. It was a habit he had picked up from an older bricklayer when he started in the trade. It helps you concentrate on what you're doing, good old Arnold had told him. Numbers always anchor you to reality. Will didn't know if that was true, but counting the steps and the stairs kept him from tripping and falling.

"Will! You're back!" his mother-in-law greeted him. "We thought we'd lost you".

"I went to pray too", he replied. "You're not the only ones who talk to God".

"Oh, really? Which church did you go to?"

"This one", he said, touching his chest over his heart.

She stared at him, very serious. Was he teasing her?

"Mom", Mercedes said, approaching Will from behind, "William is a being of light".

He turned to her and smiled:

"I don't think so, Mercedes, at least not yet. But since I came back to Málaga, I feel like I'm in Paradise, and that God is everywhere I go. In England, I had to go to church to see him, but here, God comes to me, and he's constantly present."

The two women approached him and hugged him simultaneously. He took each of them in an arm, forming a tight embrace. This is what I always thought a real family would be like, he told himself, wordless love, spontaneous tenderness.

When Roberta was finally able to stop the tears that had overwhelmed her, she let go and smiled.

"Well", she said, "I'm going to see what we'll have for dinner".

"I'll help you, Mom".

And Will was left alone there, in the middle of the living room. He sat on the sofa, crossed his arms, and silently watched the television, which was off, for a while as he thought about what had just happened. His gaze fell to the small table in front of him, on the lower shelf of which there were some magazines and two or three books. He picked up the first one, as it was very familiar to him: The Ingenious Knight Don Quixote of La Mancha: With a smile, he leafed through it a bit, remembering that little hotel in Madrid where he'd devoured it in just a few days. Then, as he put the book back, his eyes fell on another, much thinner one that caught his attention: Life and Dreams of James Tempered of the Hours. For a good while, he immersed himself in the reading, seeing in greater detail the things Roberta had told him in the bar a few days before, when Mercedes' voice brought him back to reality:

"William! Dinner's ready!"

With the book under his arm, he went to the bathroom to wash his hands and returned to the kitchen, showing it to Roberta, while saying:

"Mother-in-law, you and I have a conversation pending".

17 A room of his own.

They left it for the next day, but when he left home early for work, he went to his apartment to see if he had forgotten anything, and found a letter in the mailbox, which told him something he wasn't expecting:

It also included a phone number and the address where he was expected.

The letter was dated the 10th, and a week had already passed, meaning he would have to go that very morning.

He called Roberta, and she explained that it was probably due to the finalization of his residency in the Land of the South, surely something procedural, nothing important, but that he couldn't miss it. He would have to let his boss know he wouldn't be coming to work in the morning.

The Social Inspector was a friendly, plump, short man who inspired confidence with his appearance and manner of speaking.

"Ah, Mr. Webb, you've been living among us for more than six months. You're practically one of us now".

"That's right, thank you, Inspector".

"I don't know if you're aware, but I've called you in to regularize your status among us".

"Well…", Will said, fearing the worst, "I already have a job, friends…, I've built a life here, in this country that I now consider my own".

"Ah, I'm very pleased to hear that, my friend. But you see: we Southerners live in single rooms with access to a communal dining room, or in single apartments, unless you live alone, which doesn't seem to be your case. It appears there's been some irregularity in your situation, because you have an apartment without a partner. That's why you're actually entitled to a room, because you're single, right?"

"That's right, Mr. Pérez".

"Well, take a good look at this catalog I'm giving you. You can choose a room in any neighborhood you like, or an apartment. You have ten days to let me know. Here's my phone number. I'll answer calls between seven in the morning and two in the afternoon".

"Well... the truth is, I moved in with a woman a few days ago... I'm at her place, 46 Andrés Segovia Street, 3^rd floor, apartment A".

"Ah, friend, we weren't aware of that..."

The man seemed to think for a few minutes.

"So, what do we do?", Will finally said.

"The best thing would be for you to fill out this form", he said, taking it out of a drawer, "which the woman you live with will have to sign..."

"There are two of them".

"Two?"

"My partner used to live with her mother. Now I live with both of them".

"Wouldn't you prefer to live alone with your partner? We can give your mother-in-law a room".

"Absolutely not! I wouldn't separate them for anything in the world. I'd rather go to a room myself and leave them together in their apartment".

"That's admirable, Mr. Webb. So be it. We'll assign you a new address, although we respect your right to a single room of your choosing, in case things stop working out. Does that sound alright?"

"Stop working out? Yes, that makes sense. I was married once, in England, and things stopped working out after a year, and we had to get divorced, although at first I couldn't have imagined it, because we were very much in love".

"Then we'll assign you a room in an insula, as we call the buildings with rooms, not apartments, although each room has its own bathroom, and on the ground floor there are several large dining rooms for the residents".

"Well, yes, it can be useful to have a safe haven... And could I use the room even if I live somewhere else?"

"Of course. But if you want to think about it, you have ten days to choose one".

"And what if I don't?"

"Then you'll lose the option, and you'll be stuck in a hotel for another three months if things stop going well.

"Okay, fine, let's do it now, because otherwise I'm going to regret it, or I'll just keep putting it off out of laziness..."

"I have several available right now. Do you prefer the city center or the outskirts?"

"I prefer the historic center, yes".

"There's one in Plaza Tempered of the Hours, formerly known as Constitution Square, on the 4^th floor. Would you like it?"

"Um... is there an elevator?"

"The building has 4 elevators and two freight elevators, as it has 400 rooms".

"How many square meters is the room?"

"It says here", he said, pointing to the apartment plan, "that it's 16, plus the bathroom, which is 6 more".

"Well, I'll take it ", he said with a smile.

The inspector took the keys and, after handing them over, shook his hand.

"You have just taken responsibility for the place where you will reside when you need to, in our country. You are now a full-fledged resident of Málaga. Isidro will accompany you".

He pressed a button, and a few seconds later, a young man of about 20 appeared and accompanied him to the very center of the city. Upon arriving, the young man explained how everything worked and then left.

Once alone, he approached the small balcony that served as a window and saw with dismay that he couldn't see the sea, but he could see the old town. Across the Concorde Square, he could see another island, and to the left, the Church of the Immaculate Conception, built a hundred years earlier on the ruins of a well-known nightclub that had burned to the ground, according to local legend, after being struck by lightning during a late-night orgy. To the right were some narrow streets leading to the Cathedral, the bells of which could be heard throughout the day, although it wasn't visible from there. What he could see were the people strolling below, in the square. There was room on that little balcony for a small table and a couple of chairs, where he could have a drink while contemplating the landscape on rainy days, or whenever he needed to think.

Yes, he thought he could go there to think when he felt overwhelmed by something, whether it was work, or one of those two women. But he felt good: at last he had a room of his own, as Virginia Woolf had described in a book centuries ago.

Days later, his Southern identity card arrived, listing his new address, the apartment where he lived with the mother and daughter.

"Hey, they've given you Guillermo Red instead of William Webb".

"Yes, I told the inspector that's how I want it. If I'm a Southerner, I'm a Southerner through and through. Even in my name".

"Hehe, if we have a kid, his last name will be Red de la Torre".

"Oh. Well, that's not bad. Are we going to have a kid?"

"No, not that I know of. But…, would you like it?"

"I would", Roberta, chimed in. "Being a grandmother at 40 is a luxury".

Guillermo looked at both of them, and then said directly what he thought:

"Don't you think we're moving too fast?"

"Well", Mercedes said, "we can leave that in God's hands. If a baby comes and we don't want it, we can give it to the State. There's no problem there".

"Would you really give it up? I would never give up my own child to anyone".

"Then I'll never have to choose between you and my son, Guillermo", she said, giving him a hug.

18 James' Dream.

Two days later, once he had fully settled in with his daughter and mother and had adjusted to family life again, Guillermo finally had his long-awaited conversation with his mother-in-law.

"You told me you were going to explain the origins and management of this way of life you have in this country, Roberta".

"Of course. I see you've already read the book I left for you under the small table in the entryway..."

"Ah, yes, James Tempered of the Hours' Life and Dreams. But it's a very basic book. It doesn't explain much".

"Well, ask away. I don't know if I'll be able to satisfy your curiosity, but go ahead".

"It says there that he read all the books published by the MCRC, but there were 400 books. Isn't that excessive?"

"James was a great reader, and in the old days rural teachers had a lot of free time... but you're right, it seems excessive to read four hundred books. But you like reading, so tell me: how many books do you read a year?"

"Well, I don't know... about fifty".

"That's an average of one a week. You're a great reader, Guillermo. Well, James probably read those books in eight years, don't you think? At your speed. Double that speed, and maybe he did read them in four years. The book doesn't say how long it took him to read them. But let's say he perhaps needed more time to assimilate them, to understand them, reread them, analyze them, and critize them. In a word: to synthesize them. Then he developed his own ideas, his own doctrine, in light of what he had read, starting from the ideas of the founder of that civic movement, the MCRC, and developing his own ideas that prompted him to found a political party to get contemporary society to adopt proposals that could solve all its problems once and for all. Is it so far-fetched for a man to dedicate, say, ten years of his life to solving a social problem? There are people who have dedicated their whole lives to solving minor problems..."

"Well, yes, you may be right. But politicians want power above all else, and to hold onto it for as long as possible".

"There are also people who do things for others, who think that being useful is the most valuable thing in this world. Think of Mahatma Gandhi, Mother Teresa, Peter Adler, and so many others who bothered to do things for others. Is it impossible that this existed in the world of politicians?"

"Hard to believe".

"One of Tempered's predecessors once said: I am not free because my fellow citizens are not free. That is why I want them to be free, so that I may be free too. This was not well understood at that time, when corruption was a fundamental element of politics, and therefore politicians were of two kinds: those who had been proven to be corrupt and those who had not yet".

"Well, there was some background..."

"Yes, right-wing parties were triumphing all over Europe, parties that others feared and vilified with the label of extremist, as if they were the wolf that was going to devour everyone. Then, when they finally won the elections, they did the same as everyone else, only more subtly and with greater demagoguery, convincing many that everything was being done for their own good. They unmasked the oligarchs and imprisoned them, yes, but they themselves took their place, with secret accounts worth millions in countries that they themselves turned into sanctuaries safe from seizures by future governments..., until Tempered appeared and defused all of that with a simple and effective solution".

"Yes, I suppose so. What I don't understand is how he convinced his fellow citizens. Nor how there wasn't a social uprising, or a coup d'état by the powers that be".

"Because he disarmed them overnight. In a society where people no longer believed in God, he convinced them that money wasn't a god either. That Mammon (the god of money) could die. That, in fact, he had never been born. He was a fabrication invented by the shameless to live off those who worked".

"Your book says that when he came to power he cut the salaries of former ministers and presidents. And that he didn't appoint any new ministers".

"That's how he won the people's favor. He shielded himself, so to speak: all responsibility lay with the Prime Minister. He convinced Queen Alice—he never imposed anything on her, unlike previous prime ministers—to convene a Constituent Assembly. This assembly worked for more than one legislative term of the Legislative Assembly, which, seeing how long it was taking to fulfill its purpose, thought it would never be completed, until, over a period of five months, the successive amendments were submitted to five referendums, and thus, suddenly, in less than a year, both the Constituent and Legislative Assemblyes were dissolved, and legislative elections were held".

»And the presidential elections were held simultaneously, with James Tempered of the Hours winning with 80% of the vote. The Legislative Congress was filled with independents, that is, deputies who did not belong to any political party, although some later grouped themselves into three parties: the EPT—the one founded by James Tempered—, the Social Democratic Party, and Democratic Left, which, despite its name, was right-wing. But these three parties had less influence in Congress than the rest, as the absolute majority was formed by the headless ones, as the parties contemptuously called them. However, the deputies, both those affiliated with parties and those who did not belong to any, had become more sensitive to the needs of the public and felt responsible to the citizens, not to their ideologies or parties. The party leaders disappeared as such, assuming mere administrative roles as presidents or secretaries.

"But that doesn't explain the money..., that god you were talking about".

"That was the second phase of Tempered's revolution, William: first, he created a new currency, the escudo, as I told you in a previous conversation. For domestic use only. Each one was worth two euros. Little by little, he bought up all the euros in circulation in Spain. Many, however, didn't trust it and kept them in their banks or at home. The tax burden decreased dramatically, eliminating the obligation to file an income tax return, which became voluntary, as I said, and the personal income tax rate went from 30% to an average of 5%, being 0% for workers earning the minimum wage, which was set at 1,000 escudos per month (the equivalent of €2,000). The cost of living had gone up, yes, but with that money, one could finally live. A million social housing units were built each year during the five years of the first term of the President of the Fourth Spanish Republic, James Tempered of the Hours. All the squatters were evicted from the houses they had usurped for so many years, and they were given new ones from among those that had been built, under the protection of a new Law of Vagrants and Criminals. After five years, no one was left without a home or a job, and what was even more revolutionary, although they weren't given ownership, they weren't charged any rent. Finally, what the 1978 Constitution had stated was fulfilled: that all Spaniards had the right to decent housing; the State would provide it for as long as they needed it, with no other obligation than to maintain it in a decent condition".

"All that sounds very well, but where did the government get the money to do that?"

"From the Mint. Many coins and banknotes were printed in denominations of 5, 10, 20, 50, 100, 200, 500, 1000, and even 10,000 escudos. Imagine, Guillermo: €20,000 on a single banknote! That shattered all the concerns of euro hoarders. The escudo did have the drawback, however, of not being able to leave Spain. Later, the Republic of Portugal wanted to join in, because the escudo had been the Portuguese currency for many years, making it the currency of the entire Iberian Peninsula".

"But that doesn't explain the autarky the book talks about..."

"What do you mean it doesn't? The government promoted agriculture and livestock farming, much to the chagrin of Europe, as well as industry. Cars began to be manufactured, and several nuclear power plants were built. Without anyone noticing, two hundred submarines and one hundred warships of various types were built, in addition to ten aircraft carriers with one hundred aircraft each. This was all done under the radar, so other powers remained unaware. Not even the Iberians were aware, as everyone was focused on their own affairs, as usual".

"But it's not all about economics..."

"Indeed. The Treasury Secretariat—not the Ministry—gradually lost importance to the Secretariat of Public Instruction, which urged teachers and professors to increasingly emphasize reinstated values ​​such as solidarity, empathy, and generosity, while exaggerating the consequences of the struggle for survival and unfettered trade. Thus, one day, at the beginning of Tempered's second term, a national emergency law was enacted, called the New Economy Law, but soon known as the Moneyless Law, which abolished the escudo—and the euro—throughout the entire country, reserving it for international trade between states and refusing to trade in any other currency".

"And didn't people protest?"

"Actually, it hurt those who had hoarded money. It was like taking it away from them at once. Many fled to Portugal with all their capital and settled there. But instead of being a blessing for that country's government, this posed a problem: with so much money, prices rose. In Spain, on the other hand, bartering did not resume; instead, a new system was inaugurated".

»A system of free movement of goods and services, just as you know it today: I teach at the University of Málaga without receiving a salary, but I buy everything I need for 0 escudos, and I work at whatever I can, with no time limits. In my case, under the old regime, I would have had to teach three hours a week, and dedicate the rest of my time to research and meeting my students. Now I work much more, teaching, researching, and helping my students in projects that touch on all three things at the same time, for considerably more time each week, although when I need to, I take a few days off without the work going undone, because there are other professors who take over. And it's like that in all professions".

"That doesn't explain the ships, nuclear power plants, and so on..."

"What do you mean it doesn't? Since money wasn't circulating, we all had everything. The State too. That's why state-level projects were populated by thousands of volunteers who worked tirelessly to get them up and running. That's why, in a matter of months, we launched several artificial satellites, and our technology quickly surpassed those of other countries, because the activity of scientists was no longer hampered by a lack of funding. They had all the resources the state had at their disposal".

"Ah, I see, and that's where what you told me about Star Wars comes from..."

"Well, it was more about Earth's orbit than the stars: we swept away all the war satellites, throwing them toward the Sun in a matter of minutes. It was a carefully planned operation, executed before the other nations of Earth had time to react. They gave us an ultimatum, threatening to wipe us off the map with their nuclear weapons".

"Now you're going to tell me you also had a nuclear um­brella..."

Better than that: when they were about to launch a couple of warning missiles, they discovered the engines weren't working. The US presidential plane lost engine power mid-flight, and just as it was about to crash, it mysteriously regained it. At the same time, all of France's nuclear power plants suddenly shut down for a couple of hours, and both presidents received a terse message: Warned enough?"

"But the United States and Europe aren't the only ones who matter in the world..."

"What happened with Russia and China was even more impressive: both countries lost power just as mysteriously for longer than France, with the outages beginning around the time of the US plane crash scare and ending the following day".

"And all of that happened in just a few months?"

"It was planned for years, but it happened in a week. There were high-level meetings between all the world powers, in which they concluded that they no longer had as much influence as before.

"And Portugal?"

"It officially decreed the abolition of the escudo and the euro, and requested the unification of the Iberian Peninsula into a single state, which became known as the Land of the South. Months later, the Principality of Andorra also requested it, and now it is being studied whether Hispanic America will join, and what the name of the resulting state will be, if all the countries involved request it and give guarantees of joining this state of affairs".

"Do you think it will happen?"

"I have my doubts. But it's possible".

"The book doesn't clarify what became of Tempered of the Hours..."

"After three Presidential terms, he retired from politics, returned to his school, and retired in due time, without anyone ever being able to find him. He probably died forgotten and unknown, because—it is said—he changed his name and went to another part of the country, believed to be a small town near Porto, although others say he ended his days in Andorra".

"Doesn't he have a biographer, someone who has bothered to find out what became of him?"

"Why bother? He wanted to go unnoticed, and his last wishes were respected..."

19 Melissa.

But not everything was idyllic in the Land of the South. For some time now, Guillermo had been slowly but surely giving shape to a dream he'd cherished ever since he'd had to start working: he'd liked to go to university. Now he had the chance to see if he was cut out for academics, and he signed up for some preparatory courses to see if he could pass the entrance exam for students over 25 at Pablo Picasso University.

He had 20 classmates, 15 of them women. One of them, Melissa, hit it off with him right away. He was already 50, and she was barely 25. Melissa had given up on studying ten years earlier and had held various jobs, but when she realized that the university of life taught her the hard way what could be learned less painfully from books, she decided to try her luck at university again. She was a young woman from Córdoba, slightly shorter than Guillermo, barely 1.55 meters tall, a bit plump, weighing 60 kg, with light amber eyes and light red hair, very short but soft, almost silky. Her skin was darker than usual, perhaps because she had spent a lot of time outdoors in the past. With gentle manners and a melodious voice, her gaze attracted Guillermo's from the start, although it only aroused curiosity in him, the opposite of what she felt for him, as she was captivated from the beginning by this Englishman who had come out of nowhere.

Everything was normal: good study partners, they shared notes if one of them was ever absent from class, and they even studied together some times. Until she wanted something else...

"They're showing an interesting film at the Albéniz Cinema tonight," she told him as they left class. "Shall we go?"

"It'll have to be another day," he said, seeing her coming. "I haven't said anything at home."

"Oh, you never talk about your family. Do you live with your mother?"

"No, I don't. I live with my girlfriend and her mother. Mine died years ago in England."

She looked at him in surprise.

"I didn't know you had a girlfriend..."

"Well, we've never talked about personal things. But yes, I have a girlfriend, and we might be expecting a child, although we don't know for sure yet."

"And how come you live with your mother-in-law, too?"

"She's a wonderful person. I would never separate a mother from her daughter."

"You are a strange fellow... Anyway, I guess I'll have to go to the movies alone."

"If you go another day, I can go with you. Maybe my girlfriend will be up for it and come too. That way I can introduce you."

"Well, never mind... never mind, Guillermo. I hope you're very happy," she said, unable to hide her displeasure.

"The truth is, yes, we are."

The school year continued normally, and finally came the university entrance exam for students over 25. Guillermo passed with flying colors, while Melissa failed. This showed Guillermo that her main goal wasn't exactly getting into university... During that year, after ruling him out, she dated three other classmates, without anything really clicking with any of them. Apparently, her budding relationship with Guillermo had raised her expectations, and the others were not up to it.

He ran into her again at university two years later, when he was a second-year Architecture student and she was still a first-year Arts student. Melissa had more experience with men by now, and he was already a father; his little Andrés was two years old, and his grandmother Roberta doted on her grandson. Her daughter's relationship with her son-in-law was so strong that Melissa's dreams vanished completely.

"You're still young," Guillermo told her. "At 27, you can still find a good man. But not just anyone will do. I can introduce you to my friend Steven, although I haven't seen him in a while and I don't know if he's with someone. But we can give it a try."

But he wasn't. However, innocent Steven had grown too clever and turned into a womanizer, one of those who say they prefer to flit from flower to flower, and that if he married a woman, he'd only have one, while if he didn't marry, he'd have them all except that one... and with a bit of luck, he'd have that one too!

Even so, Guillermo put them in touch. It was a November day, when in Málaga the rain started every other day.

"Steven, I'd like you to meet Melissa, a classmate and friend of mine. Melissa, I'd like you to meet Steven, a former colleague and friend.

They exchanged the customary kisses, and after a reasonable amount of time, Guillermo made the excuse that he had to do some shopping and left, leaving them both in good company, as he put it.

It could be said that Steven triumphed once again. But it was Melissa who actually took him to bed that very day. He knew that a woman who sleeps with a man on the first date isn't trustworthy, but she did things to him that you don't do on a first date, or a sixteenth, or any subsequent date, and by the end of the night he was so exhausted he couldn't go to work the next day.

A prudent woman, she left him alone for two days, but on the third day she went to find him after work and took him to her room. It was a Friday afternoon, and almost without realizing it, a week later he found himself living with her in a rather nice and cozy apartment on the outskirts of Málaga, from whose living-dining room he could see, through a large window, the distant forest at the end of a vast expanse of lawn. More than a forest, it resembled a jungle, for it was very dense and consisted of holm oaks, cork oaks, alders, poplars, aspens, and pines. Within its heart lived a variety of animal species: roe deer, hares, rabbits, squirrels, and other species that the government had taken care to acclimatize to those parts, and which they sometimes saw wandering into the grass, fleeing from one another or searching for food. The forest had several paths that crossed it from north to south and from east to west, along which they liked to stroll, breathing the pure air emanating from those vegetal cathedrals, as Melissa liked to call them, evoking the treetops with the spires of cathedrals.

They, too, thrived, and soon Melissa became pregnant, so they decided that she should leave her studies to dedicate herself to the children, of whom they would have four in the next years. She would return to university when her youngest child was ten. During that time, she realized she had been born to educate children, and she ended up earning a doctorate in Primary Education, a profession for which she had 14 years of private tutoring experience at home.

It was after the birth of their first child that Steven decided to marry Melissa, who had captivated him through sex, and in doing so, had catapulted them both into the realm of love to a degree they never could have imagined. Yes, Steven willingly traded all the others for this one, unique and irreplaceable, who made it impossible for him to miss the dozens of previous women he had been with since Guillermo had mentored him in his alternative relationships with Sara and then with Roberta a few years earlier.

When Steven invited his friend Guillermo to the wedding, Guillermo realized that he and Mercedes hadn't married either, although they lived as if they had been married for decades. So they talked it over and agreed that it would be a double wedding. On the day set for Steven and Melissa's wedding, Mercedes and Guillermo were married at the same time in a very simple and charming ceremony at the courthouse. From there, the latter two went to the Church of Carmen and exchanged vows before the priest, Father Roberto Ramírez de la Hoz, a personal friend of Roberta's, who wept like a child, seeing that her daughter had achieved what she herself hadn't in any of her five marriages: a man promising to love, help, and respect her until death do them part. Steven and Melissa, however, didn't go that far, but at least they served as godparents at their friends' religious ceremony.

When his parents got married, little Andrés was already 4 years old, although Alina, Melissa and Steven's second, would still take 12 months to arrive in the world.

Epilogue.

When Andrés was born, Mercedes left her studies to educate her son. It wasn't obligatory, but it was certainly possible. In the Land of the South, being a housewife was considered as respectable a profession as any other, and even more useful than any, since no one could raise a child as well as their own mother. When he was five, she enrolled him in school, until little by little she stopped attending classes, leaving the task of instruction to the teachers. Parents, Guillermo and Mercedes in Andrés's case, were responsible for his education throughout his life.

Over the years, Andrés became an architect, like his father, and lived with them until he married, at the age of 40, a woman from Málaga with eight surnames—a true Malagueña. Guillermo and Mercedes had four more children and lived a long life together, honoring their promise, until death do us part.

This text has attempted to present another side of contemporary Spanish society, showing how it might be possible to live in solidarity, responsibility, and empathy. If the reader has serious objections to what is presented here, they may send them to me at my address.

Synopsis.

An Englishman goes on holiday to the South and is captivated by what he sees. He gradually shares his impressions of the country, and we witness his transformation until the country fully embraces him.

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Bibliography.

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