The Sound of Many Waters Read Online Free Page A

clogged with saltwater.
    “Who are you?” Dominic screamed. “Untie me!”
    There was no response. The ants burrowed deeper into Dominic’s clothes and it felt as if his body was being consumed by fire. He strained to free his arms and legs but they were tied too tightly. He writhed in the dirt to scrape off the ants but that only made them latch on harder. Where the hell was he and how had he gotten there? His mind was cloudy, but then all the memories of the day hit him as jarringly as a lightning bolt.
    …………………………
    “Do not leave me, Juanito.” Dominic cradled his son’s body in his arms and ran his fingers through his black hair. Juan’s hair was one of the only physical features that disclosed the presence of Dominic’s genes. When dry it was dark and flowing like the top of a thunderstorm. When wet, however, it burst into wild and unruly curls, and it was curlier now than it ever had been. Dominic tried to smooth it down against Juan’s skull but the winds of the hurricane—which screamed around him like a legion of frantic devils—lifted it back up. Drifts of sand surged down the beach with each gust and the oscillating bands of rain felt like barrages of little arrows on Dom i nic’s skin. He looked up at the swirling clouds. They seemed close enough to touch.
    “Do not take him from me,” he pleaded.
    He looked down again at Juan, hoping to see him start breathing again and open his beautiful eyes, like Lazarus rising from the dead. Nothing happened, though, and Dominic’s despair transformed into rage. Had God abandoned him? A f ter all his years of service for the Lord—after all the natives he had converted and Protestants he had slain—was God now forsaking him? It seemed contrary to the reward he was taught he would receive.
    “I have spent my life doing your will,” he said to the storm as if the storm were God. “Now, do mine .”
    He looked down again but saw no change. The serene crescent moon smile on Juan’s face troubled him now more than ever. He pushed down the corners of Juan’s mouth with his thumb and forefinger but he did it too forcefully and the smile became a frown. He left it like that, though, because it looked more like the Juan he knew.
    “You stupid boy,” said Dominic. “Why did you obey me?”
    Dominic thought back on his time with Juan. The boy had always obeyed him, even when the task was clearly frivolous or dangerous, like the time he instructed Juan to walk into a native village as if he were part of the tribe in hopes of gathering intelligence about a brewing revolt. Unable to speak the native tongue, Juan was recognized as an intruder and taken captive, but an impromptu prisoner swap bought his freedom.
    “You stupid, stupid boy. You cannot leave me now.”
    Dominic closed his eyes and gathered everything he had in his heart—all his rage, zeal, ambition and hatred—and begged God one last time for Juan to revive. “Hear me!” he bellowed.
    The wind ebbed and a shaft of sunlight shone down on Juan. Was it a miracle? Had God decided to be reasonable? But then the beam broadened and the entire beach became saturated in sunlight. Dominic gazed up, squinting. He saw the clouds disintegrating and realized that the abrupt break in the storm was not the divine intervention he had pleaded for; it was merely the hurricane’s eye—the placid, cloudless void in the center of the storm’s vortex that brought with it an otherworldly silence and calm.
    I renounce you , Dominic prayed. Behold your enemy .
    He looked down the beach and saw Pablo’s body partially buried in the sand, his rigid hand still clenching the rosary. Even now he wanted to crush Pablo’s skull with his boot.
    You’ve offended God, he heard Pablo say in his mind. Your sins are unforgiveable.
    The sun glinted off one of the gold doubloons in Juan’s hands, as if trying to remind Dominic of his transgressions. Fury ballooned inside him. He pried open Juan’s fingers,