A Treacherous Earthquake

Back home, the panorama looked just as gloomy as before, since Mireya could well be buried among so much rubble that had not yet been removed. The main problem lay in the need to remove the rubble without the use of machinery, since it could end up crushing anyone who was still alive under the debris.

A week after the disaster things had changed little. The lists of dead, wounded and missing had been concentrated in several modules in the Alameda Central of the city, which It made its query easy. The unidentified corpses were concentrated in better equipped facilities accompanied by information about the place where they had been recovered. Every day Gerardo visited these places hoping to find Mireya's body. He was sure that, at this moment, Mireya could not be alive. It seemed like the earth had just swallowed her up. But on September 30, 11 days after the earthquake, events took an unexpected turn.

Newspapers began to publish all available information about the dead, missing and wounded. The lists already numbered thousands in each category. Despite the lost hopes, Jorge had searched the list of wounded anywhere. His surprise was enormous when he found the name of Mireya Galindo Herrera. According to the list, Mireya would be admitted to the Tepeyac hospital, quite far from the Tlatelolco area. Of course, it could be a homonym, since the name and surnames were very common in Mexico.

Gerardo was shocked by the news. They immediately looked up the exact location of the hospital on a map and planned the route according to the restrictions and blockades still in place on many streets in the city.

Two hours later they were in the immediate area of the Tepeyac hospital. They parked the car about three hundred meters from the hospital and arrived at the place when it was getting dark. At the reception they were told that, indeed, there was a woman in her 30s with that name. They asked them to wait for the nurse in charge to attend to them, but that only one person could go through. Twenty minutes later a young nurse with a clipboard in her hand came over and asked Gerardo to come with her. They went up to the third floor where there was a pavilion with 18 beds separated by screens. The nurse stopped and asked Gerardo about his relationship with the patient.

"My wife's name is Mireya Galindo, and we think she may be the person is here. Mireya has been missing since the day of the earthquake, I was out of town, and we haven't heard from her since. We assume that she was in the Nuevo León building, where we lived."

"Look sir, according to the data we have, Mrs. Galindo was rescued from the wreckage of the San Cristóbal hotel, the one by the Aqueduct, about a kilometer away. She was rescued on the 21st in very bad condition. Two days after being admitted, doctors had to amputate a leg that had been seriously damaged and had an infection that developed into gangrene. She is now out of danger, but she seems to have post-traumatic amnesia as she doesn't seem to remember the events. In any case, you only have 10 minutes to identify her because we have saturation problems in the hospital and, in addition, the lady is sedated."

Almost in shock, Germán nodded slightly. The nurse took him to bed 32 where Germán could see an incomplete body covered with a sheet. It was obvious that her left leg was missing. Her face, very pale, had minor injuries. Her right eye looked swollen. From her left arm came a catheter with hoses connected to a bag of liquids.

After a few seconds Gerardo could barely say.

"I'm not sure, nurse. Could you lift the bed sheet to see her leg?"

The nurse nodded and lifted the bed sheet a little so that the foot and part of the right leg could be seen. Gerardo approached and carefully observed the foot. He had no doubt about it, it was Mireya, his wife.

Since there were no chairs, Gerardo had to sit on the floor, unable to hold back a sob. The nurse, perhaps because of her youth, was touched by the scene remaining motionless a few minutes. The picture seemed to be taking place in a funeral home.

"Take a deep breath sir, and exhale slowly -said the nurse - If you like, I'll bring you a glass of water."

"No, I'm okay, thank you. Give me a few more minutes and then I'll be down."

"It's okay sir, I'll wait for you at the reception desk."

At the reception desk they asked for his complete data including the telephone number. They told him that he could come back in three days, when they would surely inform him when his wife would be discharged. They asked him to go get a wheelchair and bring some clothes for her. Before leaving, Gerardo asked again about the place where they picked up his wife. After consulting the file, the administrator confirmed that she has been found in the San Cristóbal hotel, located on the Acueducto boulevard.

When they returned to his mother's house, Gerardo's expression was neither sad nor happy, he seemed rather absent. Jorge looked more optimistic and was the one who explained everything to his mother. As it was already late, they decided to rest and leave things for another day.

The next day, at breakfast, Jorge commented.

"Look Gerardo, since you are going to need a place to take care of Mireya, I think you can bring them here to the house. We have a room available and mine would also be available since I can stay overnight in my office."

"I had thought so. Once she's fully recovered, we'll see what to do. For now, I will look for a wheelchair and some crutches. I will also take the opportunity to investigate some things."

"What are you going to look for, son?" His mom asked.

"I will notify you in due course, if you will excuse me."

"Don't you want me to come with you?" Jorge asked.

"No need Jorge, thank you. I'll probably take all day and I'll see you here in the evening."

You don't have to be a fortune teller to know what kind of investigation Gerardo was thinking about. There were two central issues: first, where Mireya was; second, what Mireya was doing there.

He first moved towards the Tepeyac hospital and found out where the hotel was. It turned out to be just over a kilometer away from the hospital, which would explain her assignment to it. When he got to the right place, he did not find any hotel. Just ruins of a building that was once the San Cristóbal hotel. The north and south wings of the building remained standing. Two backhoes were removing rubble without hope of finding anything alive. Because of the type of zone, it was clear that the San Cristóbal hotel was not for grand tourism. Discouraged, he took a taxi to the ESEF in search of more information.

At school management he was told that the activities were still not normalized and that they did not have enough information about the students. As for the teaching staff, made up of 35 people, all had reported except for a couple of professors. One of them was known to be at his house recovering from minor injuries. But there was another of whom they knew absolutely nothing. Gerardo asked for his names and if they could show him his photographs. A secretary searched a filing cabinet for his files. She took out two which she put on the counter. In one of them appeared the name of Francisco Gómez Ramírez, 48, who was the injured professor who was in his house. The other file showed the name of Mario Ayala Campos, 36, whose whereabouts were unknown.

Gerardo took note of their addresses and telephone numbers stating that he needed them because he was interested in finding out the whereabouts of a student who had probably been in contact with one of them. Before leaving, they assured him that if they found anything by Mario Ayala, they would let him know.

On the way back to his house, he remembered meeting Mireya's trainer named Mario. But the name of Francisco Gómez meant nothing to him, so the first thing he decided was to try to locate Mario by phone or at his home. He called from a public phone but got no answer. He then decided to take a taxi to Mario's home, located in the Azcapotzalco Delegation, a little far from where he was.

The place where Mario lived was a modest flat located in a four-story building that did not appear to have been damaged by the earthquake. The number was 331, located on the third floor. After knocking repeatedly without getting an answer, he decided to ask in the neighboring apartment where voices could be heard. He was opened by an elderly lady.

"Good afternoon, ma'am, sorry to bother you. I am looking for Mr. Mario Ayala who I believe lives next door."

"Well, sir, we haven't seen him since the day of the earthquake. It is very common for him to be absent for a day or two, but this absence feels odd to me. We know that he is a sport trainer and that he works at ESEF, but our relationship with him is nothing more than a greeting. Haven't you asked about him at ESEF?"

"That's precisely where I come from. They don't know anything either. I would appreciate it if, if you see Mario or get to know anything, you notify me on this phone. I am just a friend, but I know that his family has not been able to reach him."

Gerardo left the building with the feeling that the puzzle was starting to take shape. He went to the downtown, which was still immersed in a little chaos. He looked for an orthopedic appliance store, but to no avail. Almost all the stores were closed. He decided to return to his mother's home.

At home, he only told them that he had gone to the ESEF to inquire about the restarting of courses and that he had gone to downtown to get a wheelchair. Later, when Jorge returned, told him he had gotten a secondhand wheelchair and that the crutches had been assured in about three days.

During dinner Jorge commented with Gerardo and his mother.

"Look, I guess you're going to stay here until Mireya fully recovers. I was thinking that if you like, you could help me in the business. I need someone trustworthy in accounting and managing suppliers and customers. That would be at the time that best suits you, depending on your wife's situation."

"That's fine with me, let Mireya be handed over to me and I'll define the details with more certainty. What is a fact is that I will stay here with Mireya until she recovers completely. Then I will see what I will do. I certainly don't intend to die in this fucking city. I'd rather go somewhere else."

Two days later Gerardo went to the hospital to see Mireya. The administration informed him that she was much better and that he would probably be able to take her within 2 days. For now, he would only be able to see her for 20 minutes. Mireya was no longer in the same ward as she had been moved to the second floor. He was shown how to get to bed 176; with a hesitant step, Gerardo headed to that place. Numbers were displayed on the footboard of each bed. Before reaching number 176 he stopped for a moment. He went back over what he was going to do, and then carefully placed himself on the edge of the bed, facing the headboard. Mireya, who was half asleep with the backrest at 45 degrees, almost gasped when she saw him.

"Hi, how are you? Gerardo said without moving."

"Gerardo! Where were you?"

"I came three days ago, but you were sedated. Until today they allowed me another visit. How you feel?"

"I feel like I'm missing a leg. Did you see me?"

"Yes, I knew that already. The good thing is that you're alive. How's your memory?"

"Well, not very well...something is wrong in my head. Why don't you come closer? I'm not leper."

Gerardo approached and took her hand.

"In two days, you will be discharged. We will settle in my mother's house; we already have a room ready and a wheelchair. I will no longer return to Juárez, and I will start working, for now, with my brother Jorge in his greengrocer's business. If you like, I can talk to Veracruz with your mother to tell her how you are."

"Yes please. Talks to my mom and tells her I'm fine, but don't talk about my leg. I'll explain it to her later."

Without further signs of affection, Gerardo withdrew, leaving Mireya sunk in a bad feeling. She had 48 hours to come up with a believable story or insist on her amnesia in the hope that everything would be forgotten. Mireya's biggest problem was a loose link named Mario.

Two days later, carrying a bag with clothes and a wheelchair, Gerardo returned to the hospital accompanied by Jorge. After filling out and signing a bunch of paperwork at the hotel administration, he handed over the chair and clothes to a nurse. Thirty minutes later the nurse returned with Mireya in the chair. She was freshly bathed and looked very well. She greeted Jorge, who hadn't seen her in a while, and they headed for the exit. While Jorge went to the car, Mireya took Gerardo's hand and told him.

"I don't know what's wrong with you, but you must know that the earthquake didn't produce any changes in me except for the one in my leg. My love for you is unbroken. If my current state changes your feelings towards me, I will understand. Just say it."

"Relax, we'll have time to talk. The only thing that matters now is your recovery. Your mother already knows about it, but now that you get home, you can call her. I know your mother is in a bit delicate health, so you will know how to handle it."

At his mother's house, the room for Mireya had already been made. It had a full bathroom, two single beds, a bureau, a small dressing table and an armchair. Upon arriving at the house, the greeting with Gerardo's mother was warm but brief. Mireya settled in the room and asked for a little time to sleep. Gerardo helped her settle down, brought her water and her medication. He then walked away without saying a word.

In the evening, after bringing Mireya dinner, Gerardo read for a couple of hours. They barely exchanged words. Then he changed and went to bed in the other bed. It took him a long time to fall asleep, as at more than one moment he was tempted to go and hug his wife. But the doubt, which was no longer so much, did not prevent him from doing so. For the next day he scheduled to investigate one last point about Mireya's mysterious vanishing.

He got up early without waking up Mireya. He asked his mother to keep an eye on her because he had to leave in order to settle some issues. He looked at a map to find an address and then headed south of the city in search of Francisco Gómez Ramírez, the last loose thread in his investigation.

It didn't take him long to find the address. It was a modest house located on the outskirts of Xochimilco. After knocking, a lady about 45 years old opened the door.

"Good morning, ma'am, I'm looking for Professor Francisco Gómez."

"Please come in, I'll call you right away."

A few minutes later a man appeared with a cast on his right arm.

"Morning, what can I do for you?"

"Good morning, Professor. My name is Gerardo Urzua. I am trying to locate a person who has been missing since the day of the earthquake. She was a student at ESEF, and we don't know anything about her. I was referred to you on the chance that, if she is your pupil, perhaps you would have some information that would be useful to us. Her name is Mireya Galindo."

"Look, I have many students in different groups, that name doesn't sound familiar, but let me check my lists. Wait for me a moment."

The professor walked away and a few minutes later returned with eight folders. He handed four to Gerardo and kept the other four.

"If you help me review, we'll finish sooner. The lists are the ones on the gridded sheets. They are in alphabetical order except for some names at the end."

After 10 minutes of review, they couldn't find Mireya's name.

"Have you already asked at the ESEF offices?"

"Yes, but they don't know anything about what happened with their students. All the professor staff has already reported except for you and an instructor named Mario Ayala. Do you know him?"

"Yes, I know him by sight, but I did not interact with him."

"Was the arm injured in the earthquake?"

"Yes, it did. I was about to leave the house when the dance started. I hit the ground and fell badly. The good thing is that the house held up well. Are you related to Mireya?"

"I'm a friend of her family, who are desperate. But, to tell the truth, we've given up hope. Thank you very much for the information. I hope you recover soon from your arm."

Gerardo left without the slightest doubt. The only possible link between the earthquake and Mireya was Mario Ayala. And most likely he had died in "the dance", as Francisco called it.

On the way back Gerardo planned, over and over, how he was going to confront Mireya. At times, anger and grief overcame him; but he knew there was a possibility that his suspicions were unfounded. He would have to proceed with caution and intelligence. The immediate question was when the appropriate time would be to confront her, given the state Mireya was in. Perhaps he should wait as long as possible.

Three weeks went by with healing, medications and check-up visits to the hospital. Not so surprisingly, she had a speedy recovery. Her physical-athletic bases were her main support.

Gerardo had managed to contain himself and had not confronted Mireya. They did not even talk about the past. Mireya seemed withdrawn with Gerardo as accepting a hidden guilt. But this situation could not go on for long. The river overflowed one day when Mireya, spurred on by uncertainty, told him.

"Gerardo, I don't know what's wrong with you. Your coldness disconcerts me. If you have something to tell me, I think it's time you to say it."

Gerardo did not answer. He closed the bedroom door and sat down on the couch. After a long silence he blurted out:

"The day of the earthquake you were not in our apartment. As you well know, there was almost nothing left of the Nuevo Leon building. Our apartment was left in ruins. It is time that the rubble has not yet been removed. So, the first question to be answered is to know where you were that day. I don't think you don't remember anything; that would have happened if you had seriously hit your head. Where were you on the morning of September 19?"

Mireya had already had an answer ready for some time.

"I remember leaving the house early on my way to ESEF because I had to go to the supermarket to buy some fruit. On the way out, I went to the bus stop and that's where I don't remember anything anymore. I guess something hit me and knocked me down."

Gerardo kept a grim silence. Then he said.

"You're lying. You were found in the ruins of the San Cristobal Hotel. In this hotel you spent the night fucking with your ex-coach Mario Ayala. It's a miracle you survived."

Losing his temper, Gerardo finished off.

"I never imagined that I had married a fucking slut."

Very upset, Gerardo left slamming the door.

He went to his mother's room and told her:

"I'm going to visit Jorge, don't wait for me. I'm going to sleep over there; I'll see you tomorrow. Don't worry about Mireya, she will be fine."

Back at his brother's house he told him all about Mireya's infidelity. They got drunk and discussed endlessly about the future of their marriage. Jorge insisted on the possibility of forgiveness and reconciliation. He advised him to hold out as long as possible before making a decision. Unfortunately for Gerardo, the alcohol only added salt to his wounds.

The next day, in a calmer mood, Gerardo commented.

"Be that as it may, I would like to start working with you. Mireya no longer requires so much attention and I need to distract myself with other things. Besides, my savings are running low. I need money to finish her therapy and, later, to buy her a prosthesis. So, when you say so, we can start."

"We can start tomorrow. I would like to have you available from 8:00 to 3:00 in the afternoon. There will be a need for you to stay a little longer at first, but after that, those hours will be enough. Now, I would pay you MXN$ 25,000 per week. Later, I can increase it depending on how sales go this season. I will give you an advance to buy clothes, since I see that you don't have many outfits."