My father and my mother. I saw them killed. My father was the mayor of our town and a Republican. And when the Nationalists took the town, they lined up all the Republicans against the wall. My father cried out very loud, “Long live the Republic!” And then they shot him. But my mother was not a Republican. She had no politics. But she loved my father, she couldn’t say that. So she just looked at my father who lay there on his face at her feet and she said, “Long live my husband who was the mayor of this town!” She said it very loud, like a shriek and then they shot her and she fell and I wanted to go to her. We were all tied. We were tied by the wrists in a long line of girls and women and I wanted to be shot too and I was going to say, “Long live the Republic and my mother and my father.” But instead there was no more shooting. They herded us up the hill through the streets, through the square. My father’s office was at the city hall. They took us across the street, to the barber shop … I want to tell you! … I do not know how to kiss, or I would kiss you. Where do the noses go?
For Whom the Bell Tolls, Maria