The Last Song

slapped his thigh in merriment. “Wait until he celebrates his wedding night!”
    I swallowed hard. Sofia had told me of the things that newlyweds did on that night, after Mama had refused to answer my questions.
    Don Alfonso beckoned to two of the Moorish slaves standing against the wall. “Take the boy,” he ordered.
    Each slave put one of Luis’s arms around his neck and dragged my betrothed out of the room, leaving behind a trail of drool.
    After much bowing and protestations of kinship, Don Alfonso followed them.
    Mama leaned against the table. “Finally! I didn’t think that they’d ever leave. I am so weary. I must go to my bed before I fall asleep on my feet.”
    I tugged at her sleeve. “I told you that I have to talk to you and to Papa … without strange ears near us.” I nodded toward the servants, who had begun to clear the table.
    “Can it wait until tomorrow? I am tired.”
    “No, Mama. It can’t. I must speak to you. Now.”
    She sighed and dismissed the slaves with a wave ofher hand. “What’s the matter, Isabel? What’s so important?”
    “I have heard something that frightened me. Sofia was arguing with one of Luis’s servants.”
    “So?”
    “Wait, Mama. I am coming to it. The man she was talking to said that I was fortunate that Luis was willing to marry me, even with my large dowry, because we are Marranos. A marrano is a swine. He said that we were pigs, Mama! Why would he call us such an awful name? He also said that we were Conversos, New Christians.”
    “Hush!” Mama cried. She ran to the door and slammed it shut. “Keep your voice down. The servants might hear you.” She put her hands on her hips and berated Papa. “I hope that you are pleased with yourself, Enrique. You wouldn’t listen to me when I told you that Isabel should know the truth.”
    “I thought that it was safer for her not to know, but if the servants are gossiping, we don’t have a choice. Everybody must know.” Papa turned to me. “We have to explain our situation to you.”
    Mama sat down at the table with Papa and me. Both of them stared at me intently for a long moment. Mama clasped my hand and she rested her head on my shoulder. My heart began to race.
    “My daughter, my only child, you are more precious to me and to your lady mother than all the untold riches that are hidden in the Indies far, far, away. It pains me that I must have this conversation with you – ”
    “Papa – ”
    He held up his hand. “Be patient, my daughter, and listen carefully.” He cleared his throat. “I don’t even know where to begin.”
    “Start at the beginning,” Mama said tartly. “Just tell her.”
    “The beginning … as good a place as any. I am sorry to tell you that we are not who you thought we were. Both your mother’s grandparents and my grandparents were Jewish. I wish that you could have met them. They were wonderful people.”
    All the breath squeezed out of me. Our family Jewish! How could that be? I knew very little about Jews. They were an accursed, greedy race forced to wear a round red and white badge that exposed them to the world’s contempt. All who knew them despised them.
    “This can’t be true! Being a good Catholic means that we’ll go to heaven. We never miss church on Sunday. You’ve always said how important it is to pay close attention to Father Juan during my catechism lessons. I’ve never even met any Jewish people – exceptthe silversmith’s son, who delivered this beautiful bird.” I gestured at the golden skylark warbling his unheard song.
    Mama leaned closer. “We are descended from the ten lost tribes of Israel,” she said. “Our grandparents were forcibly converted to Christianity at the point of a sword. It was either death or the acceptance of Jesus Christ. They chose life.”
    “Forgive us for not telling you, but try to understand,” Papa said. “I felt that the less you knew, the safer it was for you. We live in perilous times. The Inquisition is ready to accuse New Christians, like us, of heresy in order to gain control of our property. They hate us. As you heard, they call us Marranos, swine. The Inquisition’s familiars are everywhere, ready to lay false charges against us. We must be careful. We can’t trust anyone.”
    “We’ve never forgotten the old ways of the God of Abraham and of Moses,” Mama said. “We still worship the one and only God, the God of our forefathers, blessed be his name,” she added, her voice trembling.