MACHO CABALLO PART I: CHAPTER QUATRO DICLOSURES: Don Pedro de Muerte was a big man, with reddish gray hair trimmed short in a military style. He moved about in a wheelchair, a trundling contraption brought from his native Spain. The wound which had cost him the use of his legs was a thing of legend in the village, for he was said to have been a great soldier in the mountains and jungles of South America. He watched the family approach, smiling with his eyes while his mouth took on a firm line. "Hey, horse-trader!" he called, "Why do you make your family walk when you have so many horses?" Pap  laughed at him, "Because I work for the tightest, most miserly patron in the whole of North America!" he replied, "If my wife did not work for you, we would have to go hungry!" Don Pedro accepted his embrace, patted him on the back vigorously. "You got a good woman, there," he said, "You better take care of her." "She takes care of me," said Pap  proudly, "My boy, he does good, too." Ramon watched Mam  to see her reaction to the unfamiliar praise. She seemed not to notice. "Are you ready to get the horses?" asked Don Pedro. His wife, the Doņa, had brought out a tray of pastries and coffee cups. Marie, the servant girl, lugged the kettle of coffee. "First, there is something you must know," said Pap , "Can we go inside? We must be alone to talk to you of this." Ramon wondered what he meant. After Marie had pushed Don Pedro into the cavernous den and departed, Pap  lifted a cup of coffee. "This should be hot enough," he said. "Pap ! No!" cried Ramon. "Machito, he must know," said Mam . Ramon turned to her in confusion. He could understand Pap  doing something foolish, but why would she betray him? "Why?" he asked. "Manuel, is this another of your jokes?" asked Don Pedro, while the Doņa moved behind him, "The boy is frightened of something." "He is frightened of discovery. He is one of mine." Ramon's head whirled. One of his? "Machito," said, his father, "Look at me!" and he poured the coffee on himself. The Doņa gasped as he disappeared and a badger waddled out of the clothing heaped on the floor. Ramon gaped in dismay. His father turned into a badger? He also was cursed! "This was why I did not want you to follow your grandfather on his path," said Mam , "But of course, it is too late, now." "Is your whole family cursed?" asked Don Pedro. "Only these two, the father and now the boy," said Mam , "And perhaps the grandfather. But with the grandfather it is harder to tell." "But that means the boy..." "... Cannot return to the school, as you wished," said Mam , "The school is run by the church, and while I attend church regularly, I do not think my piety would help my son if he should change in front of a group of friars. They have put people to the torch for witchcraft for doing less than that." "And that is why you asked me to refuse the school's request," said Don Pedro as he studied Ramon. "Yes," said Mam , her head bowed. "Now, I have shamed my husband and my son in order to do this." "Nonsense," said Don Pedro, and to his wife he said, "Give them some cold water, will you?" "I will never get used to it," said the Doņa as she complied. She handed the water to Mam  and turned her back before Mam  upended the tumbler of water onto the badger. Pap  scrambled back into his clothing. "But what does the boy turn into?" asked Don Pedro, "If you don't mind my asking, that is." "Ramon?" Mam  said, "You don't have to tell him. He will understand." "It is okay, Mam ," said Ramon, "If Pap  can do it, so can I." The coffee had cooled somewhat, but it was still warm enough to effect the change. Again, the Doņa gasped, but the tone of her voice was different. "How wonderful!" she exclaimed, "It is like seeing a butterfly!" "I am *not* a butterfly!" cried the girl whose hair was dripping coffee onto the expensive carpet. "Seņora Caballo, I apologize for doubting you," said Don Pedro as he appraised the girl, "If this had happened in that boy's school, we could hear the padres' screams all the way from here in Villarica." "Pap , why do you tell him this?" asked Ramon, "And why do you show that you have a curse, that you turn into the badger, when you would not even tell us?" "Your mother knew, as did the Patron," said the elder Caballo, "But we thought it wiser not to burden you." "Burden me? Burden *ME*?" Ramon felt her throat constrict until he had to swallow to ease the tension. "Did you ever think that I might need to know that I was not alone in this? That I could get some understanding from someone else who had to endure this... this nightmare?" "I think I'd better leave you alone," said Don Pedro, motioning the Doņa to roll him out. "Wait!" cried Ramon, "There is something else. You knew about my father's curse. Are you cursed, too?" "Don't be foolish!" snapped the old man, "Why should I do something as stupid as that? Besides," he added just before the door closed, "my wheelchair wouldn't fit through the cave." He left Ramon pondering as Mam  approached with the cold water. A TURN OF EVENTS: They assembled before the big house, where Don Pedro had provided horses for them to ride. Ramon climbed onto his black mare and waited while his father and two vaqueros finished their coffee and mounted. "Your boy is impatient," joshed Francisco. He wore leather chaps with silver conchos and buckles, and a gaudy sombrero. "Like father, like son," agreed Pablo, an older balding man wearing a woolen blouse with buckskin pants and worn boots. "I once was in a hurry," said Pap , "Now, I know better. Let everyone else wear themselves out first." "Ahah," laughed Francisco, "Just when did you learn patience? You did not have it when we were young bucks!" Pablo swung closer to Ramon, "Someday we will tell you about the times we went to deliver horses to the Comanche," he said, "They had many good looking girls, there. I think you would like to meet one of them." "I've already met one," said Ramon, "and she almost killed me." "What, did you try to kiss her too soon?" "No, I tried to wrestle her," The others laughed until Ramon blushed. "It was not like that!" he insisted, "It was a contest!" "It always is," agreed Pablo. "There's the corral," said Francisco, finally, "But where are the horses?" There was a lone Yanqui standing at the corral. "," he said. "?" asked Pablo, then repeated in English, "?" "," said the cowboy, "." Pap  and the cowboy rode off together toward town, and the others followed. "What's the matter?" Ramon, unable to understand English, asked of the two vaqueros. "We must go to the town plaza," said Pablo, "The Alcalde has decided that he wants to see what we are doing." "We aren't going, are we?" "Of course! We must go where the horses are." "Not a good idea!" blurted Ramon, "You forget the Alcalde is after my hide." "He won't bother you!" insisted Francisco, "No one messes with Don Pedro! The Alcalde would not dare interfere with our business." "Not a good idea," repeated Ramon, but he followed along with them. INTO THE LION'S DEN: The village was quiet as they walked their horses down the street. There was little traffic, even though it was a market day. Ramon glanced about cautiously, feeling as though there were eyes on him. A train of burros blocked the way for a moment, and a white paper caught his eye, a picture on the signboard. It was a crude drawing, but it was recognizably his face. Beyond a miner's freight wagon, he saw a uniformed man coming his way. Ramon slid off the horse and fled the middle of the street, almost as a shout arose. The soldier, on foot, had spotted him and began pursuit. Down the alley he ran, gaining on the older man, until he came to a shallow watering trough. It had been sitting in the hot sun all morning, would the water be warm enough? He bent over the edge and splashed his face, just as a rough hand on his pantalones yanked him up. "Oh, sorry, Seņorita!" said a startled soldier, "I thought you were..." he broke off and looked down the alley where a dozen possible escape routes could be found. The soldier pelted off. Ramon ran the other way. He caught up with his horse shortly, but the vaqueros were not immediately to seen. Vaulting back onto the horse, he grabbed the reins before the horse bolted and held it still while he looked about. Then he headed it toward the center of town. He should get out of the village while he could, but Pap  had impressed on him how important it was to keep the appointment with the Yanquis. `We must not offend these people,' his father had said, `these horses are important to Don Pedro, and we must keep the good will of the Yanquis.' The mare, nervous since he had mounted so abruptly, tried to trot but he kept it to a walk as he headed toward the plaza. There he found the vaqueros, who were surprised to see the horse with an unfamiliar rider. "Saludos!" said Francisco, "Where is the boy?" Ramon's mind went blank. They did not know of the curse. How could he explain? He was rescued by his father, who called from the center of the plaza. Fifty or more horses were milling about in a rope corral. "Machita!" cried Pap , "Get on over here! I need a rider." Francisco turned to Pablo, who also looked dumbfounded. "Machita? What kind of a mother would name a girl *that*?" "It's a joke," said Ramon, as he slid off the horse. He handed them the reins and pushed through the onlookers to the corral. "Pick out a good one for the rancherita," said Pap . Ramon eyed the herd, picked up a riata and walked around the corral. The horses moved about skittishly; browns, blacks, a pinto of the kind the Yanquis called `paint', and a couple with unusual markings. He selected one of these, a reddish brown stallion with a white blaze zigzagging down its nose. It was alert, with its head up, brown-gold eyes watching him. "?" asked one of the Yanqui cowboys. "," said Pap  with a mischievous gleam in his eye. "." "," said another. "," said Pap , "." ROMANCE: Ramon flipped the loop about the neck of the bay and pulled it close. Some things were the same, the rope obeyed as well as when he was male. "!" said a cowboy, "!" "?" "?" "." Ramon got the bridle on and swung the blanket into place. The bay, feeling playful, brought his head around and shoved Ramon from behind, knocking the saddle from his hands. Ramon smiled in anticipation. This one was going be fun to ride. Ramon bent to pick up the saddle, but it was already up. He looked up to see a huge grin attached to curly wheatcolored hair, freckles, and a sunbaked felt hat. "," said the cowboy. `Oh, no,' Ramon groaned inwardly. "," said the cowboy, "." He proceeded to throw the saddle over the horse's back and began to cinch it down. Ramon saw the glint in the bay's eye as the horse watched the cowboy, and kept silent. "," said the cowboy as he stepped into the saddle, "." The bay allowed him to settle in, took a few steps and then stiffened his legs, bowing his back at the same time as he bounced, which efficiently jettisoned the young cowboy. The cowboy got up, grinned, dusted off his chaps and hobbled over to his boss. "?" Calpern shook his head, "," he said, "." To Pap , he said, "," "," said Pap , "?" The Yanqui boss considered. "," he said, "." "Hey, Machita!" called Pap , "Get on him! He's yours!" "You mean it!?" "This man just said so. All you gotta do is ride him." "!" Ramon clambered aboard. The bay, startled, jumped a foot into the air. When he came down the horse shied sideways, reversed, and stopped suddenly the better to roll his rider over his head. Ramon still clung tightly in the saddle. Experimentally, the bay stiffened and bowed his back, with the same result, then launched into a series of violent turns. Finally, he stopped and rolled his eyes to the side as far as he could with the reins taut, trying to observe his rider. What he saw must have satisfied him, for he settled down and walked placidly back to the group of cowboys. "," crowed the cowboy who had been bucked previously. "!" "," said Pap , but he said it quietly. ALCALDE: A darkhaired, sunbrowned cowboy nicknamed `Lonesome' came to Calpern and said, "." Three soldados marched up, escorting the Alcalde. The Alcalde, a lean hard man with precisely trimmed mustaches, smiled broadly and approached the trail boss with an extended hand. "It is good to meet you, Mister Calpern!" he said, "I trust you are making a profit, no?" The sergeant behind him repeated the words in English. "," admitted Calpern, "." The Alcalde frowned microscopically and turned to the sergeant. "What did he say?" he asked, "I cannot understand him." "," said Calpern, "?" He pointed at Pap . "," said the sergeant. "." "Excellent!" replied the Alcalde, after the interchange, "Allow me to introduce myself. I am Bertran Sinestro, the mayor of this fine city. Thank you for conducting your negotiations here." "," said Calpern, "." "You understand that the men you are dealing with may not always be here," smiled Sinestro, "The politics, you understand." "," Calpern leaned against the makeshift gate and fumbled with his pipe. "First, there is the revolution, always the revolutions, and now the Empire. Soon, the Spaniards, they may all go away. The people who replace them will remember that you did business with Don Pedro. Then who will you sell the horses to?" "," the trail boss scratched his neck as he thought. "Perhaps me, no?" "." "I have big plans, Mister Calpern." "." Sinestro turned to his sergeant. "See that they leave immediately after their trading," he told the sergeant, "I don't want them in town any longer than necessary." The sergeant said to Calpern, "." "," Calpern resumed watching the horses. After the soldiers had gone he said almost inaudibly, "?" To Pap  he said, "." "," agreed Pap , "." "." Pap  smiled. "," he said, and they shook hands. "?" "." "," the grizzled boss took a long draw on his pipe, watched the smoke plume into the sky above the mission roof, "." Pap  smiled at some inner thought, then said, "." "?" "." "," Calpern indicated the sandy-haired youth, "." "," said Pap . "." ALL THINGS COME TO SHE WHO WAITS: It was late before the thiry horses Pap  had bought were all bedded down at the rancho, the rider's mounts stripped of saddle and tack and rubbed down, and the vaquero's paraphenalia put away. Ramon was tired. Don Pedro, from his wheelchair on the portico, insisted that Ramon and his father spend the night in the big house, where rooms were waiting. They agreed. Ramon did not even consider reverting to male form; he was so weary he could not focus his eyes as he shuffled into the room Don Pedro had indicated, threw off his shoes and drew the shirt over his head. A noise from the end of the room caused him to waken sharply. There was someone in the bed. Estrellita had pulled the blanket up to cover herself. "Who are you?" she demanded. "Estrellita?" Ramon groaned. "Wrong, whoever-you-are! *I'm* Estrella! I want to know who *you* are! And just *what* do you think you are doing in Ramon's room?" The blond girl wrapped the blanket around her and advanced on Ramon. "This is *my* grandfather's house, and this is *my* friend's room, and you have some nerve sneaking in here trying to get in my friend's bed, with your..." she glared at Ramon's exposed breasts while pulling the blanket tighter about her own. "...your... anyway, he's not here, so you can get out!" Ramon pulled the shirt back on and stumbled out the hall and down the stairs. He found a pitcher of cold water, poured it over his head, then collapsed with a sigh on the horsehair bench in the great room. Almost immediately, Doņa Mercedes, the hacendado's wife, was tugging him to his feet. "You just come right along, I've got a nice soft feather bed in Esteban's old room. I won't tell her you are there." --------------- The next morning they gathered at the huge table in the kitchen. Estrellita was late for breakfast. Her eyes were red from lack of sleep, and she ignored Ramon. She pushed away from the table after only a taste of the pancakes. "I'm not feeling well," she announced, on her way out to the corral. She was raking horse manure from a stall when Ramon found her. "Go away," she said, "I said I'm not feeling real good." "Was it something I did? You wouldn't even look at me at breakfast." "Naw," she shrugged nonchalantly, "You're a big boy. You can do what you want to." "Is it about last night?" She turned on him. "What *about* last night?" "I guess I was so tired when I came in that I fell asleep in the front room. Seņora de Muerte put me into your father's old room." "She did?" Estrellita said increduously. "Yeah. I was really tired. Guess I woke her up, stumbling around." "She should have put you in your own bed. But perhaps it's better she didn't." "Why? What happened?" "Nothing. Let's just say I'm not very proud of myself." "Who did you beat up this time?" Ramon ventured a smile. "I didn't..." she stopped raking for a moment. "Do you know any girls around here? Besides me, that is." "No... unless you count Red Cloud." "Well, I suppose she is a girl. But I was talking about Mexican girls. You know what I mean. Competition." "Against you? No way." "It pays to be sure. I just want to know who..." she paused and sighed. "Maybe it was a dream. Or not. Anyway, I almost did something I would have regretted. I sort of wish I could be regretting it right now." Ramon kept silent and found a pitchfork to help her clean the stall. CHAPTER QUATRO: END