I saw Ultima make some medicine for my uncle, and when she forced it down his throat and his face showed pain, my body too felt the pain. I could almost taste the oily hot liquid. I saw his convulsions and my body too was seized with aching cramps. I felt my body wet with sweat. I tried to call to Ultima but there was no voice; I tried to move but there was no movement. I suffered the spasms of pain my uncle suffered, and these alternated with feelings of elation and power. When the pain passed a wave of energy seemed to sweep through my body. Still, I could not move. And I could not take my eyes from my uncle. I felt that somehow we were going through the same cure, but I could not explain it. I tried to pray, but no words filled my mind, only the closeness I shared with my uncle remained. He was across the room from me, but our bodies did not seem separated by the distance. We dissolved into each other, and we shared a common struggle against the evil within, which fought to repulse Ultima’s magic.
Time ceased to exist. Ultima came and went. The moaning of the wind and the cries of the animals outside mixed into the thin smoke of incense and the fragrance of piñón wood burning in the stove. At one time Ultima was gone a long time. She disappeared. I heard the owl singing outside, and I heard its whirling wings. I saw its wise face and fluttering wings at the window—then Ultima was by me. Her feet were wet with the clay-earth of the valley.
“The owl—” I managed to mutter.
“All is well,” Ultima answered. She touched my forehead and the terrible strain I felt seemed lifted from my shoulders. “There is no fever,” Ultima whispered to me, “you are strong. The blood of the Lunas is very thick in you—”
Her hand was cool, like the fresh air of a summer night.
My uncle groaned and thrashed about in his bed. “Good,” Ultima said, “we have beaten the death spirit, now all that remains is to have him vomit the evil spirit—”
She went to the stove and prepared a fresh remedy. This one did not smell like the first one, it was more pungent. I saw her use vials of oil she had not used before, and I saw that some of the roots she used were fresh with wet earth. And for the first time she seemed to sing her prayers instead of muttering them.
When she had finished mixing her herbs she let the small bowl simmer on the stove, then she took from her black bag a large lump of fresh, black clay. She turned off the kerosene lantern and lit a candle. Then she sat by the candlelight and sang as she worked the wet clay. She broke it in three pieces, and she worked each one carefully. For a long time she sat and molded the clay. When she was through I saw that she had molded three dolls. They were lifelike, but I did not recognize the likeness of the clay dolls as anyone I knew. Then she took the warm melted wax from the candle and covered the clay dolls with it so they took on the color of flesh. When they had cooled she dressed the three dolls with scraps of cloth which she took from her black bag.
When she was done she stood the three dolls around the light of the flickering candle, and I saw three women. Then Ultima spoke to the three women.
“You have done evil,” she sang,
“But good is stronger than evil,
“And what you sought to do will undo you…”
She lifted the three dolls and held them to my sick uncle’s mouth, and when he breathed on them they seemed to squirm in her hands.
I shuddered to see those clay dolls take life.
Then she took three pins, and after dipping them into the new remedy on the stove, she stuck a pin into each doll. Then she put them away. She took the remaining remedy and made my uncle drink it. It must have been very strong medicine because he screamed as she forced it down. The strong smell filled the room, and even I felt the searing liquid.
After that I could rest. My eyelids closed. My stiff muscles relaxed and I slid from my sitting position and snuggled down into my blankets. I felt Ultima’s gentle hands covering me and that is all I remember. I slept, and no dreams came.
When I awoke I was very weak and hungry. “Ultima,” I called. She came to my side and helped me sit up.
“Ay mi Antonito,” she teased, “what a sleepy head you are. How do you feel?”
“Hungry,” I said weakly.
“I have a bowl of fresh atole waiting for you,” she grinned. She washed my hands and face with a damp cloth and then she brought the basin for me to pee in while she finished preparing the hot cereal. The acrid smell of the dark-yellow pee blended into the fragrance of the cereal. I felt better after I sat down again.
“How is my uncle Lucas?” I asked. He seemed to be sleeping peacefully. Before he did not seem to breathe, but now his chest heaved with the breath of life and the pallor was gone from his face.