There is little light. The dancing flames of the fireplace are reflected on the room’s walls. Wrapped in blankets, Juli lies feverish in bed. He is a broad-shouldered man. Kneeling beside him, Rosa wipes the sweat from his face with a handkerchief she took from the front pocket of the corduroy overalls she’s wearing. A veil of sadness darkens her face. She sees Juli very weak and tired. Rosa’s heart tightens every time she looks at this big man and sees him curled up and fragile. Juli opens his eyes. Rosa hastens to construct a wall of a smile on her face and speaks to him sweetly:
—You’ll eat a little now, won’t you?
Juli’s mouth is very dry. With an almost inaudible voice, he tells Rosa that he is thirsty. She helps him sit up and gives him something to drink, but Juli, proud, rejects the help and takes the glass with his own hands. He drinks. He returns the glass to Rosa and lies down again, exhausted by the effort he has made. Rosa gets up and, before leaving the room, tells him she’s going to take the pot off the fire and that when she returns, she’ll change his patches. She leaves the room, and Juli falls asleep.
Rosa returns after a while with two steaming bowls in her hands. Juli has thrown off the blankets. He is still sleeping. Rosa places the bowls on the bedside table, sits next to Juli, and dips a gauze in one of the bowls. She wrings it out a bit and uses it to trace Juli’s face and neck. She dips it again, and after wringing it out with both hands, she gently places it on Juli’s forehead. Rosa thinks she sees a sign of relief on his face.
She takes advantage of this moment to change the bandages on his leg. The wound looks very good; she doesn’t understand why his fever doesn’t go down. Once the bandage is removed, she takes off the patch of herbs and clay. She puts on a new one and rewraps it all with a bandage made of well-boiled cotton cloth. The wound is improving, but the fever doesn’t go down. The red rash that Juli has all over his chest and back doesn’t look very good. She rubs calendula cream on his chest. She doesn’t know what else to apply. She has also tried liver and chamomile cream, but nothing... Juli is strong; he will overcome the fever. For a moment, Rosa loses herself in memories of better times. Not so long ago. Just two weeks ago, they were the simplest and happiest people in the world. Juli’s icy hand weakly gripping her wrist brings her back to reality. Now Juli is shivering. He is very pale.
—I’m cold —he says, teeth chattering.
Rosa covers him again with the blankets and asks him to sit up a bit.
—If you’re not hungry, at least drink this to warm up —she says, pointing to one of the two bowls.
Juli drinks some broth while holding the bowl with his hands. Rosa wants to see the color return to his face; Juli hands her the bowl. He hasn’t eaten any of the vegetable pieces in it.
—Well —she thinks—, at least it will help him warm up.
Juli turns onto his side, curled up with the blankets, and closes his eyes. Rosa dips the gauze in the bowl on the bedside table again and gently rubs his neck. Juli turns towards her, attempting to smile, and asks her to lie down with him for a while. Rosa returns his smile and, despite all the work left to do on the farm, lies down beside him. She rests her head on his shoulder and wraps one of his giant hands with hers. They fall asleep.
Rosa wakes up with a start; she sits up. How long has it been? She has so much work to do before the sun sets! She puts her feet on the ground, slips on her espadrilles, and stands up. She looks at Juli; he is uncovered and very pale. She covers him with the blankets and caresses his face with the back of her fingers. He is cold. Rosa shakes him gently.
—Juli...? Juli, love…
Rosa is very nervous. She feels a strong pressure on her chest and it seems like someone has taken the oxygen from her lungs. She moves Juli a bit more forcefully and then places two fingers under his nose to feel his breath. Nothing. She feels nothing. She shakes him harder, calls out to him, sits on top of him, grabs his shoulders with both hands, and shakes him even more vigorously.
—Juli, wake up, please.
Tears stream down her face. She desperately begs him to wake up and shakes him.
—Juli, please…
Her voice breaks and she cries out in pain. She weeps on his chest.
—No, no, no, no…
She holds his icy face with both hands and kisses him, imploring him to wake up, sobbing, asking him not to leave her alone. She screams, cries, mutters his name, kisses him more. He is dead. Juli is dead and she cries. She cries, devastated, over her beloved Juli. It can’t be. She hugs him tightly. He is rigid and cold. Rosa refuses to accept it. It can’t be. She presses his chest forcefully and gives him chest compressions and mouth-to-mouth resuscitation. She repeats the process for a long time while screaming for him to wake up. Tears and mucus cover her face. She is exhausted, collapsing onto Juli’s chest. He is dead. Juli is dead. Rosa wails inconsolably.
