Prologue:
It was weeks after the assault on the puebla - life had gone back
to normal for most folks in the valley, as normal as they could
be, considering the situation. For Ramón, this meant both
pleasure and torment, for while his mother was grateful for his
heroism, she was irritated that he had been so reckless. She
seemed to be especially concerned that he had become a girl for
part of the rescue - not that he had any control over these
things - and insisted that he refrain from such antics in the
future... at least while he was female. This placed the boy in a
particular bind, for while he had no desire to change he also did
not wish to become a 'sissy' just because of a little alteration
in body structure. He wanted to remain bold and 'macho'.
IN PURSUIT OF A DREAM:
Ramón leaped the low brick wall and fled through the alleyway,
and the soldier pursued closely. Perhaps it had been only chance
that the young trooper had spotted him this morning, perhaps
Ramón had wanted to be seen. Either way, he was feeling happy.
He could run. He could fly down the alleys and through the
squares, around the buttresses at the mission, through the shops.
The soldier, as close as Ramón allowed him to get, could not
match his speed. Eventually, pursuit slowed to a stop and Ramón
went back to see what had happened. The soldier was leaning
against an adobe column, coughing for breath.
“Muchacho!” gasped the soldier, “Why do you run away?”
“That is simple,” said Ramón, “I do not wish to be caught.”
“But I have heard...” the soldier said, “I have heard the charge
against you... No one can blame you for leaving the school to
help your family...”
“There is more to the story than that, Señor,” laughed Ramón,
“The Alcalde has a grudge against me.”
“But you are just a boy,” objected the soldier, gathering his
strength for another dash, “At worst he would send you back to
the school.”
“He would put me in the jail. I have heard of your jail,”
taunted Ramón, “The rats are so big they take the food away from
the prisoners.”
The soldier made a grab for him. Ramón laughed and ran, and the
chase was on again.
Dashing over the baked clay, rounding a corner, he almost
collided with another soldier. Ramón backpedaled desperately,
but the sergeant simply turned and ran instead of grabbing him.
“That looked like...” Ramón said, but then he backed into a wall
and brushed against a clay jug in the sun. The jug teetered,
wobbled and was about to fall as Ramón snatched at it. He
missed. The jug shattered, spraying its warm contents all over.
The pursuing soldier rounded the corner and nearly tripped over a
girl sitting on a sill, chin in palm, frowning fiercely.
“Perdone, Señorita,” blurted the soldier and hurried on.
“Está bien,” scowled Machita.
SITTING PRETTY:
“This is a small village,” scolded Mamá, “I hear of all sorts of
things. When I heard that you have been *daring* the soldiers to
chase you, my heart almost stopped.”
“They could not catch me,” said Ramón as he sampled the menudo.
“That does not matter,” said Mamá, “I want you to promise me you
will not do this thing again. I do not want to lose you.”
“Mamá, I...”
“Promise me, Bebito.”
“Very well, Mamá,” Ramón sighed.
“Good. And now it is time for lessons.”
“Again? I think Papá needs me with the horses.”
“He is in the hills with your abuelo, doing Heaven knows what. I
need you more than he does, at the moment.”
---------------
Machita was sewing and sighing when she saw a shadow pass by the
small kitchen window. Curious, she went to the door and waited.
Sure enough, there was soon a sound - a pecking on the wood that
sounded like slender knuckles. The door cracked to reveal
Estrellita in a split skirt and jacket.
“Ramón?” she whispered loudly, and before Machita could answer,
she added, “You've got to let me in! But first, are you a girl?”
“Yes, I am a girl,” sighed Machita, letting the blond rancherita
into the kitchen.
“I had to get away from home for a while,” said Estrellita, “They
are driving me crazy! Abuelita is polishing me up like a horse
at an auction! She says I cannot see you alone unless you
promise to remain a girl all the time I am here. I can't stand
it! They have an escort outside, right now!”
“I am glad to see you,” said Machita, “But aren't you still mad
at me because your abuela was hurt?”
“What are you talking about? Honestly, Ramón, sometimes you
don't make any sense.”
“I thought you were not to see Ramón,” said Machita.
“Oh, yes, you are right. But it all seems so stupid! Why can't
grandparents make any sense?”
Machita sighed again, “No one makes any sense, anymore.”
“Yeah,” agreed Estrellita as she lifted the lid on the stove pot
and sniffed the aroma of squash and beans, “Do you know they even
had me embroidering my alphabets on a sampler? Abuelita says it
will show off my skills to a prospective husband!”
Machita looked down at the embroidery needle in her hand as if to
say, 'What have I been doing?' and dropped the needle as though
it were white hot.
“What have you been doing?” Estrellita wondered.
“Oh, just sitting here,” said Machita as she shoved the sampler
beneath another cloth.
COOKING UP PLANS:
It was a relief being a boy again, when Sandy rode by to visit.
Sandy had been there when Calpern and the cowboys: Frank, John,
and Jasper, had stopped on their way back up North. Lonesome had
remained until his wound could heal.
Jasper had made a small package which he presented to Sandy, and
Sandy asked Mamá to keep it cool for him. Ramón asked about
this package, later that day.
There was a small hill above the fields where it was possible to
see beyond the trickle of a river, to the hills and pass where
sometimes elk fleetingly appeared. Two youths observed the view
idly.
“Jasper does most of the cookin’,” said the lanky wheat- haired
cowboy, “He left me some sourdough starter.”
“What would you do with sourdough?” asked Ramón.
“Makes good bread,” admitted Sandy reluctantly.
“I thought only women made bread.”
“Well, Jasper does our cookin' on the trail. Which reminds me.
I was wonderin',” drawled Sandy, “What do ya'll cook in those
pots? Seems like there is always one by the stove”
“Oh, these?” asked Ramón lazily, “Only the corn we soak in lye to
prepare them to make the tortilla dough.”
“Yeah? That's sort of the way my Ma makes hominy.”
“Perhaps. Then the masa is rinsed and ground some more into
flour. When you are ready to make tortillas, you must blend in
enough water to make it moist, but not enough to make it watery.
It takes much skill and practice to know when it is ready.”
“How'd you know so much about making tortillas?”
“Uhhh.. Never mind. Sometimes, I must help with the cooking.
This is not a manly thing to do,” Ramón said, hesitantly.
“Sometime, I'll show you how to cook cornbread and stew, if we
get the chance.”
“Well, how'd you learn so much about cooking cornbread?”
“One winter, my Ma took sick and we decided that someone else had
to cook. I learned how to make meals for six kids. There just
ain't no pleasing some young'uns, but they ate what I fried. On
the trail, Jasper does all the cooking, so I don't get much
chance to show off what I know.”
“With my father after me to help with the horses while my mother
wants me to help cook, I am getting no rest at all!”
“Yeah? How about some time we get together and make up a meal?
That would surprise your Mamá!”
“It cannot be easy on him,” said Pablo as he cut a hide into thin
strips to braid into a riata, “He must be torn between the need
to be a man and the frightening insecurity of being a woman.
Truly, it is a conflict which must bear heavily upon his soul.”
“Truly,” agreed Francisco.
“We must be prepared for the day when his mind breaks, God
forbid,” Pablo mourned, “One day he may lose the distinction
between which is which, and he will not know what he is.”
The two boys returned from the field, and they were talking
animatedly as they passed Francisco and Pablo. Pablo laughed,
“What do you two talk about that's so interesting?”
“Oh, we were only comparing recipes,” said Ramón, “... and then
you bring it to a boil, but you don't stir...”
Pablo watched the two until they were out of sight. “Both of
them!” he declared, “What am I going to do, now?”
SHOPPING FOR MAMA:
His education was on hold until they could figure out a way to
get around the curse while he was at school. The padre at the
mission came by to visit once, to Mamá's dismay, and pleaded with
her to let Ramón return to the big school. The Alcalde
maintained that he had to pay for his truancy, and had his
soldiers keep vigil in the village. Ramón could not even go to
the market as a boy. Consequently, it was as a girl that he met
Alita again.
Machita was shopping for Mamá, who wanted some herbs and
seasonings for a chicken dinner.
“Machita!” cried Estrellita. She was wearing a split skirt of
soft leather, a white brocade blouse and the flat wide hat
favored by the southern vaqueros. “Have you seen the new booth?
There's a merchant in from the West Coast, and he has some great
stuff!”
“I wouldn't care,” shrugged Machita, “I don't have any use for
jewelry or combs.”
Estrellita urged Machita along with her. “Go with me, anyway,”
she said, “That's the only way my dueña will take her eyes off
me. I feel like a cow up for sale, they watch me so closely.”
“I have felt free as an eagle all morning,” said Machita, “The
only time I have been out of the house is when I go to the
market. Mamá's afraid someone will see me when I'm Ramón.”
“I wish we could trade,” simpered Estrellita.
Machita favored her with a hard look. “No, you don't,” she said.
“Well, anything would be better than this treatment! I would not
be surprised if they locked me in at night!”
“Don't you check your door?” Machita laughed.
“Every night,” admitted Estrellita, “But one of these days they
are going to lock it. And then I will have to get out or go
crazy.”
“They wouldn't do that. The Doña is too kind.”
“I always thought so. But lately, they don't trust me. They
think I'll do something foolish.” She lifted her chin. “I never
do anything foolish... without a reason.”
“Never?” Machita grinned.
“You just shut up!”
They passed the vegetable vendors and neared the more substantial
booths of the hardware merchants. A soldier was standing nearby
the jewelry vendor, casually braced against his pike.
“Oooh, Señor Poscadero does have some new stuff!” cried
Estrellita in delight.
“Come on, I thought you didn't care for gaudy trinkets,” Machita
teased her.
“I can have them if I want them. That's the advantage of being a
girl. I can live the rough life and still enjoy the finer
things,” Estrellita paused, “At least I could, once. Abuelita is
trying to make me into a dainty rose blossom, too delicate to
touch.”
“At least you're a girl,” grumped Machita, “I'm not supposed to
have to do that sort of thing. It ain't right.”
“I'll worry about that later. Isn't this a lovely silver
bracelet?”
“I suppose.”
“Come on. This would look great on you!” Estrellita picked up a
bracelet from the blanket and held up to Machita, ignoring the
alarmed look the merchant gave her. “This turquoise goes
perfectly with your eyes.”
Machita caught the bracelet and handed it back after a cursory
examination. On impulse, she asked, “Do you have any turquoise
pendants?”
The merchant rifled through a small wooden chest and produced a
slender teardrop of blue stone in a silver setting. “Is this
what the Señorita wishes?”
Machita hesitated. “Uh, I just wanted to see what one looked
like,” she admitted.
“It's beautiful!” exclaimed Estrellita, “Here, let me buy it for
you!”
“I don't want it!” protested Machita, “I can't wear jewelry!”
“Oh, but I insist,” pouted Estrellita, “I've always wanted to get
you something that would look good on you, and this would be
perfect!”
“It's much too gaudy,” came a new voice from behind them, “You
don't want to cast your pearls before swine, do you?”
Both girls turned. “Buenas Dias, Alita,” growled Estrellita.
Machita started to say something, but remained silent.
“I'll take that pendant,” said Alita, “It would fit in my
collection. I have emeralds and rubies from all over the world.
I need something local to balance it out.”
“Do you want it or not?” Estrellita asked of Machita.
Machita was about to shake her head, but seeing the malice in
Alita's face, she nodded instead. “But...” The words came out as
a whisper. “But I don't want you to spend money on me.”
“It's not *my* money,” laughed Estrellita, motioning to an old
woman who had been tagging along after them. The dueña came over
to the booth in a stately manner, taking the time to stop and
examine the blouse worn by Alita's young male escort. The old
woman's expression said that the escort's attire had barely
passed inspection.
“Yes, Hacendita?” she asked.
“I want to buy this bauble,” sniffed Estrellita.
“Certainly,” said the dueña haughtily, picking up on Estrellita's
intent, “Is this little thing *all* you want?”
“For now,” Estrellita drifted away to another booth, while Alita
watched darkly after, like thunder muttering on the horizon.
“You should not have done that,” said Machita, speaking more
easily.
“Why not? What made you ask to see a pendant?”
“I was curious. Something someone said about a pendant. It
doesn't matter, now.”
“You can tell me. I can keep a secret.”
“It is no secret, only... That sorcerer said something about a
pendant. It doesn't matter, 'cause he's dead now. The cave-in
killed him.”
“Hmmm. I don't even want to think about him!” said Estrellita,
“What did he want?”
“You don't want to know. He thought I had a particular pendant,
and he got real upset when he found I did not have it.”
SITTING STILL:
Alboro grunted up the steep path, finally cresting above the
highest boulder of the cluster on the cliff over the valley.
“Here you will sit,” he said.
“What am I supposed to do?” asked Ramón.
“Sit.”
“The rock is hard. It is hot.”
The old man looked out into the clear air, at the blue haze on
the far side of the valley.
“Sit,” he said.
“I'm sitting,” said Ramón, “What now?”
“Sit.”
“How long?”
There was silence. The old man's face was impassive, though a
tic had started in his left cheek. Finally, he elaborated.
“Sit,” he said.
“What am I supposed to do?” Ramón repeated, then answered his own
question, “Sit. I know.”
Minutes passed in peaceful contemplation for the old man. His jaw
muscles had begun to soften when -
“I'm bored, Abuelo.”
Alboro said nothing as he climbed laboriously to his feet and
started down the trail.
“Wait for me!” cried Ramón. Alboro spun about and pointed his
walking stick at Ramón's face.
“Sit!” he said.
Grumbling, Ramón did so. “How long must I do this?” he wondered
aloud. To himself, for Alboro was no longer there.
He sat and watched the eagles lofting and soaring above the far
butte. This was better than being bored. After a while he quit
wondering what he was supposed to be doing and merely let the day
slip away, idly gazing at the valley floor below.
The dry summer had choked the river down to a trickle. He
thought he caught a flicker of movement. An antelope, or deer,
was venturing down to the water for a drink. Nearby, another
movement as something stalked the first animal. Strain as he
might, he could not tell what kind of creature each was. There
was a flurry of motion and both disappeared.
Again, he watched the eagles, beginning to feel the heat of the
sun as it rose higher. He looked for his hat, and it was not to
be found. His canteen was missing also.
“How am I supposed to stay here if I don't have water or shade?”
he asked, “I'm tired of this! I am outta here!”
But something held him to his position. Despite his nickname,
'Macho', or perhaps because of it, he had to prove himself.
Abuelo was scornful of his stamina. The old man kept saying,
“You could have been something useful... a horse, at least. If
you were a female horse, you could go to a herd and draw the
stallion out. But here you are, useless. A woman.”
“I am *not* useless!” Ramón repeated to himself, “I can do
something simple like sitting still for an hour or two.”
The day wore on, and the heat grew until the sun was a white hot
anvil pressing him down. He could no longer watch the eagles,
the river was impossible to see. The heat pushed him back until
he crouched beneath his tented blouse and waited in a stupor for
Alboro to return and tell him he had succeeded.
The ants at his feet attracted his attention and he watched them
as they marched in and out of his shadow. A horned toad crept
out, gazed up at him and winked, then scurried away. There were
sparse blades of grass beside the rock and upon them climbed a
locust, nibbling the tender leaves. At last the sun had crept
past its zenith.
“Why am I here?” Ramón asked himself. A distant eagle's cry was
his only answer. He looked at the eagle, and thought he saw the
eagle looking back. At the river below, the puma which had
ambushed the antelope looked up at him for a moment and went back
to its feast.
Ramón stumbled to his feet and staggered down the trail.
Somewhere below, in the shade of a juniper, sat the old man with
canteen and hat ready. “Did you finally decide to come out of
the sun?” asked Alboro, “It is about time. Only a fool would
stay out in the sun on a hot day like today.”
“Why did you do this to me?” asked Ramón, after he had slaked his
thirst and cooled his face with the water.
“You must be ready.”
“Oh, yeah? Ready for what? What is so important that I have to
have training?”
“The sorcerer will try again.”
“He can't. I saw him die in the cave-in.”
“Perhaps so, if you say it is true,” Alboro used a branch of the
juniper to pull himself to his feet, and started down the trail.
Ramón followed. “What happened to that Sergeant Espuma?” he
asked.
“His body was never found.”
“I don't like this. You never told me!”
“What was there to tell? The man fell off the puebla roof. Down
a cliff... boom! He's dead. Maybe someone carried him off.”
“There was no one left,” Ramón puzzled about this for a while as
he picked his way down the trail. “Wait!” he called, “Are you
saying Kaliche is still alive?”
“Can't be,” Alboro called back, “You saw him die, remember?”
Ramón hurried to catch up with him. “Well, I didn't actually
*see* him get killed,” he admitted, “But he was there, throwing
lightning bolts or something, and suddenly the roof fell in. It
*must* have killed him.”
Still, Alboro said nothing as he picked his way down the steep
trail.
“If he is still alive, then that means...” Ramón shuddered to a
halt. “Dios mio,” he breathed, “The pendant! He will be after
the pendant!”
SUBSTITUTIONS IN A DREAM:
It was the same priest who had come to her village when she
was much younger, a man with his hair and eyebrows plucked
bald. Then, he had approached her mother and given her the
pendant, with a tale of the good fortune it must bestow upon
the wearer.
Now he came to her rooms as she was being prepared for the
ceremony, leaving another girl in her place, taking her by
the hand and leading her away. Through dark corridors they
went, occasionally coming into the weak morning sunlight as
their path took them between buildings. Once, she could see
the pyramid. It was a clear morning, the sun was rising
higher, and she could see with perfect clarity the priest
and his helpers as they secured someone to the altar. There
was the ritual brandishing of the obsidian knife to the sun,
then the blade flashed. She thought she heard a piggish
grunt of pain, then the priest held aloft something red and
dripping...
Lucha sat upright in fear and loathing. Why was she having
these dreams? “They killed the other girl,” she said to
herself, “they took her instead of me... I can't believe it!
I was actually *jealous*!” Her head spun, and she said,
“Whose memories are these?”
|