Page 49 of The Wilder Widows

One by one, they filed out of the room after me. Even in the hotel, the energy pulsing around us was palpable as other guests dressed head to toe in white filed into the hallways—all heading to the square, no doubt. Me and my three comrades, and tens of thousands of other visitors, would soon converge in Plaza de Castillo.

When I opened the door and stepped outside, the July heat and humidity shocked me to a stop. But after a moment, I adjusted and continued trudging forward with the swarm of people pouring down the stone streets. With each step bringing us closer to the square, the din of the crowds increased to a low rumble. As we turned the corner and spilled into the square, the widows and I stuttered to a stop. A sea of bodies covered in white stretched in every direction. Music filled the electrified air and vibrated the stones beneath my feet.

“Holy shit,” Sylvie said, stepping to my side. “That is a lot of people!”

“How are we even going to fit?” Doris stood on my other side, eyes widening while she swept her gaze across the crowd.

“I bet it smells like B.O. something fierce in there.” Alice brushed a piece of her hair back into place after a welcomed breeze blew through and tousled it. “It’s hot, there are way too many people for that space, and Europeans aren’t known for their hygiene.”

Though I’d seen videos about the festival, the sight of so many bodies in one place overwhelmed even me.

“Maybe we should sit this one out,” Alice said, continuing to look at the crowds in disgust. “Go find a nice little restaurant somewhere and grab a martini or two.”

Shaking my head, I took a breath. “No. This is part of the festival, and we’re going.” Without another word, I pushed into the sea of bodies, reaching back and grabbing hold of Sylvie’s hand. She did the same with Doris, and soon the four of us were linked together, weaving our way deeper into the celebration.

When the wall of bodies became too compacted to pass, I stopped and pulled them up to my side. “This should work.”

“What exactly happens now?” Doris rose on her tiptoes to try and see over the crowd.

“Now the celebration begins. They’ll fire a rocket, and then all hell breaks loose.”

“Hell?” Worry lines creased along Doris’s forehead. “What kind of hell?”

“Not actual hell, Doris. Just one of the world’s biggest parties. Don’t worry, your soul is safe. Actually, this whole festival is to celebrate a Catholic saint. So, you can think of it like church.” I grinned, knowing that while there was truth behind the words, the debauchery awaiting us when that rocket exploded was a far cry from an afternoon in the pews.

“Oh! Wonderful! I’m Catholic.” She smiled and exhaled a breath ripe with relief, losing the terrified look. The same excited look she’d worn daily since we flashed everyone from the Eiffel Tower returned.

The crowd cheered when the mayor stepped out onto the balcony. My Spanish wasn’t good enough to understand his words, but listening to the crowd’s responsive roars rise and fall told me we were closing in on the moment I’d spent decades waiting for.

“Take out your scarves,” I said to the girls when I saw the other festivalgoers raise theirs high in the air. One by one, the widows lifted their scarves along with me. We held them up while the noise of the crowd softened into near silence.

“Pamploneses, Pamplonesas, Viva San Fermín! Gora San Fermín!” A voice shouted over the crowd.

“Viva San Fermín! Gora San Fermín!” the crowd cheered back.

A loud boom echoed through the square, but the sound paled in comparison to the deafening roar of the crowd. It shook me to the core, rattling my old bones while it traveled through us. With a grin as wide as it was after the first time I kissed Roxy, I shook my scarf and cheered with them.

Music started back up, and the crowd began to move, bouncing and dancing as they screamed in unison. A rush of liquid blasted me in the face, and I tossed my head back, opening my mouth, allowing the champagne to flood in and bubble along my tongue.

“My hair!” Alice screamed. Opening my eyes, I turned to see her taking a champagne blast to the head. My laughter erupted harder than the champagne bottle as the bubbly liquid pelted the widows in the face. When the stream stopped, and they stood soaking wet, wide eyes blinking hard, I rolled forward and clutched my stomach, still struggling to catch my breath.

“What the hell was that?” Sylvie wiped the smeared mascara from below her eyes.

“Welcome to the San Fermin Festival, ladies!” I laughed as I opened my arms and took a spin around, more champagne spraying me while I danced a little jig.

“That is a waste of perfectly good alcohol!” Alice huffed and surveyed the surrounding scene. More champagne sprayed, and this time she stepped toward it and opened her mouth, smiling when she successfully captured some on her tongue.

“This is crazy!” Sylvie screamed over the crowd, her laughter mingling with the songs breaking out around us. “Absolutely crazy!”

“It’s amazing!” I shouted back.

It was everything we had hoped for and more: Percy, Manz, Stilts, and me. While I stood in the middle of the celebration we’d talked about so many times sitting around a campfire in Vietnam, I fought off the sadness they weren’t here with me experiencing it.

“This is not church!” Doris shouted into my ear, leaning back to scold me with a look. But before she could pierce me all the way, another blast of champagne to the head caused her to snap her eyes shut.

Laughter rolled through my belly like waves along the beach. I knew if Percy had been alive to be here, he’d be the one spraying champagne. But instead of Percy, Manz, and Stilts, I stared at the three widows who now took their places. My comrades from a different time in my life.

“Well, when in Pamplona!” Sylvie gave in to the energy of the crowd, and though soaked in champagne, began dancing with a young Spaniard who could have passed for Antonio Banderas back in the nineties. He grabbed her by the waist, spinning her in circles before hoisting her onto his shoulders. Another man handed her a bottle of champagne, and she grinned wider than the Cheshire Cat before popping the cork to the roaring approval of the crowd. A waterfall of champagne exploded around us, along with the sounds of her laughter.