Esther felt particularly aggressive, even a bit bellicose. She and the eight other members of the central committee of Boca Tierra’s small but militantly vocal Independence Party – including her ex-husband Guillermo – had had a turbulent meeting. Esther had railed at the committee chairman, calling him a reactionary and a petty bureaucrat. Guillermo had played the reconciler among the committee and in the end all the ruffled feathers were smoothed. After the meeting he gently chastised Esther.

“It’s not us” he told her, as they stood near the back exit of the meeting hall, “who are the enemy. You have to keep this in mind..” Esther rolled her eyes in mild exasperation.

“Ave María” she said. “Please, Guillermo, let’s drop the subject.”

“Esther” he said, “the elections are next month. How we do in those is much more important than these little squabbles among ourselves.. To gain support of the people we must set aside our internal differences and present a unified front.”

“Like always” Esther said, her eyes flaring, “you presume to lecture me. Don’t.”

“Esther, Esther” Guillermo said, “you know what I mean. It wasn’t personal. You know the difficulties we face with the Populares and their lackeys, the police. As always, they’re looking to discredit us. They’ll do anything to ensure that they win. And that we lose. Anything. You know that.”

“Yes” Esther replied, “you forget I was there when they shot Miguel, no?”

“Of course I haven’t forgotten. All the more reason why we should be unified. And why we should be vigilant and cautious.”

“Certainly” Esther said, “but I’m not going to let them rule my life with fear.”

“It’s not cowardice to be careful” Guillermo said.

“Okay” Esther said, “let’s forget it for now. We know how we differ on things.”

“Very well” Guillermo said, “you’re right. I know you know best about your life.”

“Thank you” Esther said, searching for her car keys in the frayed purse she always carried.

“Can I walk you to your car?” Guillermo asked.

“Oh” Esther said, realizing why she couldn’t find her keys, “I forgot my car is at the mechanic’s.”

“I’ll give you a ride” Guillermo said.

“No problems” Esther said, “none of the old things?”

“No” Guillermo said, “just a ride..

“Okay” Esther said.

*   *   *

On the way to the mechanic, Guillermo and Esther were uncomfortable, even uneasy. All the old reasons for their divorce were still there, alive, palpable, just below the surface. They tried to avoid digging them up. Guillermo asked about the children.

“They’re both fine” Esther said a little defensively. “They have all they need.”

“Of course” Guillermo said. He was thinking how it might not have had to end between them the way it did.

“Do you take precautions with them?” he asked.

It was always dangerous for the children of opposition leaders in a place like San Sebastian. Guillermo worried about little Carla and ten year old Alberto. Especially since Esther had become well known for speaking out against the Populares on television. Guillermo sometimes wondered if she thought about the dangers when she spoke out so strongly.

“Don’t start that again, Guillermo,” Esther said, “we’ve been over everything too many times already.”

“They’re my children, too” he said.

“Only in name.”

“Esther” he said, pained.

“Watch the road” she said.

Guillermo concentrated again on driving. She’s so hard, he thought, but so pretty. And so important to the cause. She’s really only hard because of us, of what happened to us. I didn’t have her energy, her commitment.

“I’m sorry, Esther” he said after a long pause. “I just worry about you and the children.”

“We’re fine, Guillermo” she said, most of the toughness gone from her voice, “really.”

Guillermo took his right hand from the wheel and tentatively reached towards Esther. He pulled back before he touched her. She acted as if she hadn’t seen him. Guillermo drove on.

*   *   *

It was after nine when they got to the mechanic shop, and Esther was in a hurry to pick up the children at the sitter’s. Guillermo waited while she paid the bill and the car was brought out.

“Is it running okay?” he asked, leaning against the door of her idling car.

“Yes” she said, “it’s fine.”

“Then I’ll see you later” Guillermo said. “Maybe tomorrow?”

“Maybe” Esther said.

Guillermo sighed and turned away. Esther watched him in the rear view mirror as he walked back to his car and got in. With a small wave, she signaled him goodbye and pulled out into the busy San Sebastian traffic.

As she drove, Esther thought of Guillermo and how they had once been so young and so in love with each other. They had gone to all the protests at the university together, the ones back when things were so exciting at the university, when it looked like there might be an independent future for their home island of Boca Tierra. Guillermo had been so handsome then, so fiery, and yet so gentle and considerate at the same time. It was a wonderful period for them ,and the country, and she still felt a thrill in recollecting it.

Before they knew it, though, it was over.. The brief rebellion was crushed and she and Guillermo were surprised to have the unexpected responsibility of an unplanned child. The exigencies of making a living came first then and their idealism wore away. With the second child came not increased joy but more misfortune as Guillermo, feeling trapped in his life, began to drink and occasionally miss work. It was the classic modern break up. Esther went more and more into the children and the small but growing party; Guillermo to depression and eventually another woman.

“Damn him” Esther said to herself as she maneuvered the car down Martí freeway.

Clearing the top of an overpass near the city’s botanical gardens, she heard a loud metallic snap from underneath the car. There was a momentary free play in the steering but she was able to regain control. Probably hit something, she thought, these streets are horrible.

She continued on her way down the freeway, zipping past the bright, flashing lights of the city, subconsciously hearing its hum of life amid the whistling of tires on pavement. Coming up over the next overpass, Esther realized almost too late that it was her exit and she had to shift lanes abruptly to get off the freeway. A car in the near lane honked but Esther ignored it.

Entering the exit at over fifty miles an hour, she pushed down with her right foot to brake the car. The brake went straight to the floor. She tried the brakes again and again but nothing happened. The car, only slightly slowing up, began to lean heavily toward the embankment as Esther fought to guide it down the exit.

As the vehicle slid precariously close to the edge of the road, Esther turned the steering wheel sharply. It spun uselessly on the column. Now out of control, the car cleared the embankment at over forty miles an hour, spun over once in the air, and landed on its roof, the impact completely crushing and flattening the top of the car. In Esther’s last frightened, confused thoughts she did not have time to think of anything but the children, and of Guillermo.

Police were on the scene within a quarter of an hour and proclaimed it a fatal accident caused by driver error. The car was immediately towed away by the authorities.

In his mourning, Guillermo noted with some irony that Esther’s death made the ninth page of the leading San Sebastian paper.

“Local woman” the stacked headlines read, “dies in car crash. Active in island politics.”

That was the last thing anyone heard of Esther’s death. The party, as expected, lost badly in the elections. The Populares continued in power. Guillermo, sober and withdrawn from the party, looked after the children.