Tom Foran Clark

The train went east through the night. They hardly slept at all. In Burgos, Pike and Emery caught a bus heading for the La Rioja region which, as Juan Armando Cabrera's Rambling in Spain informed them, was "made up of the Rioja Alta (Upper Rioja), where the region's best wines are made, and the Rioja Baja (Lower Rioja), a rich fruit and vegetable growing area along the Ebro River. A third zone, in the interior, the Rioja Alavesa, is all mountains and valleys." The bus entered Rioja over a pass from which they saw the scintillating vineyards spreading far and wide. They were let off roadside, in the Rioja Alta. The bus went on without them.

They followed signs marking the way to the town, and to the Parador of San Domingo de la Calzada, in the old quarter of the town next to the cathedral right on the road to Santiago. The building housing the parador had grown up around the original hospital where Saint Dominic had given medical care to pilgrims on the Camino. It was now an elegant, spacious, popular parador, sometimes booked full months in advance. It was like stepping back in time. The main hall was divided into nooks by huge stone Gothic arches, with light pouring in through stained glass openings in the wooden coffered ceiling. Plush, large chairs were set around, encircled by exotic, flourishing potted plants. There were sixty rooms, all large and with a desk, table, chairs, and four-poster beds. In the restaurant of the parador, that night, the two sampled local wines and ate Menestra de Verduras de la Ribeira (vegetable stew) and bacalao a la riojana (cod).

In the morning, Pike and Emery visited the Cathedral. Like everyone else who ever visited this particular church, they heard the crowing of a cock. A glass cage just to the side of St. Dominic's tomb held two birds --a white rooster and a white hen. These were kept in commemoration of a famous event that may or may not have happened. In his pocket, Emery had the little guide book Rita had enrrusted to him -- Juan Armando Cabrera's Rambling in Spain. Here was the story, according to Cabrera:

"In the fourteenth century, a man and his wife from Cologne had been making the pilgrimage to Santiago, accompanied by their son, Hugonell. They'd stopped for the night at an inn, where the innkeeper’s daughter had taken a fancy to the young man, who'd spurned her advances. The girl had then placed a silver goblet in Hugonell’s baggage and, the next morning, denounced him as a thief. The boy was arrested and hanged. As the parents prepared to depart, they heard their son’s voice telling them he was innocent -- and still alive! -- and under St. Dominic's protection. They hastened to the house of the judge, who was just then sitting down to eat a pair of roast chickens, a cock, and a hen. The couple told the judge their story. The judge said their son was no more alive than the cock and hen on his plate. The birds immediately flew up from the plate, demonstrating the hanged boy’s innocence. Hugonell. was released. The girl was hanged."

Pike and Emery spent much of the day admiring the Cathedral. They also visited stationer's shops and bought a guide to just this little town -- and got some postcards. Pike still wasn't sure what clue or answer San Domingo de la Calzada was going to hand over to him, but he felt absolutely that he was on the verge of a big breakthrough. That evening, in the restaurant of the parador, the two tried more local wines and ate Menestra de Verduras de la Ribeira and Pimentos del Piquillo (stuffed peppers). The restaurant, which had been fairly quiet the night before, was now very crowded and noisy.

Pike was going over the story they'd learned that day with fine tooth and comb. "A man, his wife, and their son are on the road to Saint James. The innkeeper’s daughter takes a fancy to him. He spurns her. She plants stolen goods in his bags, so he is arrested, charged, and hanged. His parents hear their son calling to them, 'I am not dead, I am not dead.' They go to the house of the judge, who's set to eat roast chickens, a rooster, and a hen. The couple tell the judge, 'Our son's alive, our son's alive.' He says, 'As alive as the hen and rooster on my plate!' and the birds fly up from the plate."

"Pike," Emery suggested, "you've strayed from our reason for being here, ahem -- St. Dominic of the Road?"

A wild eyed itinerant pilgrim now walked up suddenly and stood over them darkly and said, "Excuse me? Did you just say Pike?" Emery pointed him out. “You are Pike?” the guy asked. He seemed to be in awe of him.

“I am,” Pike said.

"Chauncey Moore," the fellow said, introducing himself, pulling up a chair. “Do you know Irene?”

“Irene?”

“Yes. In Barcelona, in a strip club there. She doesn't even speak Spanish, for Christ's sake. From Australia. She works in a topless-bottomless joint in the red light district. I don't think she takes customers. They just have her talking, showing herself -- all of herself. That's all she does -- talk and show herself -- and they pay her. All she ever talks about are Pike, Emery, Giordano Bruno, and John Ruskin. Over and over -- Pike, Emery, Giordano Bruno, and John Ruskin. She's completely mad -- but a good looker. Are you Emery?" Chauncey Moore asked.

“I am,” Emery said.

"Hey, cool. Glad to meet you. Chauncey Moore. Aren't Jack and Dieter also friends of yours? It's like everyone in Barcelona knows you guys!"

Emery rolled his eyes.

"They said that if I ever ran across you, I should tell you to look them up in their new digs."

"New digs?" Pike asked.

"Yeah. They said to say they'd be in Honolulu. Listen, you two really need to get over there -- I mean to Barcelona, not Honolulu. This chick Irene is really whacked out. She definitely needs your help, man.

“And this Irene is where in Barcelona?”