is a weekly serial. While it is a work of fiction, it has elements from both my own experiences and stories I’ve heard from various people. The characters, while in some cases inspired by real people, aren’t directly modeled on anyone in particular. I expect there will be inconsistencies and factual errors. I don’t know where it is going, and I’ll probably forget where it’s been. Why am I doing this? To give me an excuse and a deadline for some creative writing and because I thought people might enjoy it. Gozatu!<\/em><\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<\/div>\n\n\nShe let out a soft cry to get the attention of the soldiers as she pretended to trip and fall to the ground. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cWhat?\u201d she heard called out. Though her French was broken, she could understand just enough. \u201cWho is there?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cHelp,\u201d she almost whispered in Spanish.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
One of the soldiers came up to her as the others stood back, guns at the ready. \u201cDammit,\u201d she thought to herself. \u201cIt would be a lot easier if they all came at once.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The soldier, younger than her by a few years, approached. His smooth face suggested he was barely old enough to shave. He was trembling more than she was as he came to her.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cWho are you?\u201d he asked in broken Spanish tinged with a French accent. \u201cHow did you get here?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cMy fiance\u2026\u201d she began. \u201cWe wanted to escape the city. We came here to spend the day.\u201d Maite started sobbing, tears streaming down her cheeks. She could see Kepa circling around the distracted soldiers. He was almost between them and the boat. \u201cThe British\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cQuoi?\u201d exclaimed the soldier. \u201cL’anglais!\u201d He turned back to his comrades. \u201cShe says\u2026\u201d he began before seeing Kepa standing between them and the shore. \u201cL\u00e0!\u201d he yelled, pointing to Kepa.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
As the two soldiers turned, Kepa raised his palms. Maite covered her eyes as a bright light broke the darkness. The two soldiers closest to Kepa screamed as they dropped their guns. The other had turned back to Maite, raising his gun.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Maite had already sprung to her feet. \u201cI\u2019m sorry,\u201d she said as she placed her palm on his face and let out her own blast of light. Like his fellow soldiers, he dropped his gun as he fell to his knees, his hands covering his eyes. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cBizkortu!\u201d cried Kepa as he waved Maite over. They dashed to the boat and were paddling furiously before the soldiers recovered. Shots rang out in the night as bullets pierced the calm water around them. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI\u2019m glad they still can\u2019t really see,\u201d said Kepa with relief. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
Maite simply nodded. Her body ached all over. Inwardly, she cursed the zatia. She cursed Marina. She was about to curse Kepa before she shook her head. No, she thought. This wasn\u2019t his fault. She had agreed to everything, to helping Marina. To find the zatia. She just wanted to sleep.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
If you get this post via email, the return-to address goes no where, so please write blas@buber.net<\/a> if you want to get in touch with me.<\/em><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"Before Kepa could protest, Maite stood and walked onto the beach. She tried to appear weak and wobbly, but her stumbling was less of an act that she wanted to admit. The long run and the gash on her arm had drained her more than she had expected.\u00a0 She let out a soft cry to […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":4410,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"advanced_seo_description":"","jetpack_seo_html_title":"","jetpack_seo_noindex":false,"ngg_post_thumbnail":0,"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_publicize_message":"","jetpack_publicize_feature_enabled":true,"jetpack_social_post_already_shared":true,"jetpack_social_options":{"image_generator_settings":{"template":"highway","default_image_id":0,"font":"","enabled":false},"version":2}},"categories":[2640,864],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-6199","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-adventures-of-maite-and-kepa","category-bubers-basque-story"],"jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"https:\/\/buber.net\/Basque\/wp-content\/uploads\/2021\/03\/maite-and-kepa-v2-01.png","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_likes_enabled":true,"jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/p2sYNu-1BZ","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/buber.net\/Basque\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/6199","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/buber.net\/Basque\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/buber.net\/Basque\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/buber.net\/Basque\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/buber.net\/Basque\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=6199"}],"version-history":[{"count":2,"href":"https:\/\/buber.net\/Basque\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/6199\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":6201,"href":"https:\/\/buber.net\/Basque\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/6199\/revisions\/6201"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/buber.net\/Basque\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/4410"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/buber.net\/Basque\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=6199"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/buber.net\/Basque\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=6199"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/buber.net\/Basque\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=6199"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
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