“The boy is necessary?” my grandfather called.
“He is necessary,” she answered. “You are not afraid, are you Antonio?” she asked me.
“No,” I answered and took her hand. Many hidden eyes followed our progress up the dusty, vacant street. The saloon was at the end of the street, and opposite the church.
It was a small, run-down adobe house with a sign over the entrance. The sign said the saloon belonged to Tenorio Trementina. This man who doubled as the villagers’ barber on Saturdays had a heart as black as the pit of hell!
Ultima did not seem to fear him, nor the evil powers of his three daughters. Without hesitation she pushed her way through the doorway, and I followed in her wake. There were four men huddled around one of the few tables. Three turned and looked at Ultima with surprise written in their eyes. They had not expected her to come into this place of evil. The fourth one kept his back to us, but I saw his hunched shoulders tremble.
“I seek Tenorio!” Ultima announced. Her voice was strong and confident. She stood tall, with a nobleness to her stature that I had seen often when we walked on the llano. She was not afraid, and so I tried to stand like her and put my fears out of my heart.
“What do you want bruja!” the man who would not face us snarled.
“Give me your face,” Ultima demanded. “Have you not the strength to face an old woman? Why do you keep your back to me?”
The thin, hunched body jumped up and spun around. I think I jumped at the sight of his face. It was thin and drawn, with tufts of beard growing on it. The eyes were dark and narrow. An evil glint emanated from them. The thin lips trembled when he snarled, “Because you are a bruja!” Spots of saliva curled at the edges of the mouth.
Ultima laughed. “Ay, Tenorio,” she said, “you are as ugly as your dark soul.” It was true, I had never seen an uglier man.
“¡Toma!” Tenorio shouted. He crossed his fingers and held the sign of the cross in front of Ultima’s face. She did not budge. Tenorio gasped and drew back, and his three cronies pushed their chairs to the floor and backed away. They knew that the sign of the cross would work against any bruja, but it had not worked against Ultima. Either she was not a bruja, or to their way of thinking, she had powers that belonged to the Devil himself.
“I am a curandera,” Ultima said softly, “and I have come to lift a curse. It is your daughters who do evil that are the brujas—”
“You lie, vieja!” he shouted. I thought he would attack Ultima, but his gnarled body only trembled with anger. He could not find the courage to touch her.
“Tenorio!” It was Ultima who now spoke sternly. “You are a fool if you do not heed my words. I did not need to come to you, but I did. Listen to my words of reason. Tell your daughters to lift the curse—”
“Lies!” he screamed as if in pain. He turned to the three men he had depended upon to act as witnesses, but they did not protest on his behalf. They nervously glanced at each other and then at Ultima.
“I know when and where the curse was laid,” Ultima continued. “I know when Lucas came to your shop for a drink and to have his hair clipped by your evil shears. I know that your daughters gathered the cut hair, and with that they worked their evil work!”
It was more than the three men could stand. They were frightened. They lowered their eyes to avert Tenorio’s gaze and scurried for the door. The door banged shut. A strange, dark whirlwind swept through the dusty street and cried mournfully around the corner of the saloon. The storm which had been around us broke, and the rising dust seemed to shut off the light of the sun. It grew dark in the room.
“¡Ay bruja!” Tenorio threatened with his first, “for what you have said to shame my daughters and my good name in front of those men, I will see you dead!” His voice was harsh and ominous. His evil eyes glared at Ultima.
“I do not fear your threats, Tenorio,” Ultima said calmly. “You well know, my powers were given to me by el hombre volador—”
At the mention of this great healer from Las Pasturas Tenorio drew back as if slapped in the face by an invisible power.
“I thought I could reason with you,” Ultima continued, “I thought you would understand the powers at work and how they can wreck the destinies of many lives—but I see it is useless. Your daughters will not lift the curse, and so I must work the magic beyond evil, the magic that endures forever—”
“And my three daughters?” Tenorio cried.
“They chose to tamper with fate,” Ultima answered. “Pity the consequence—” She took my hand and we walked out into the street. The choking dust was so thick that it shut out the sun. I was used to dust storms of early spring, but this one in the middle of summer was unnatural. The wind moaned and cried, and in the middle of the sky the sun was a blood-red