Bless Me, Ultima(66)

“No! No!” Narciso resisted the pull. “There is trouble!”

“Where? You’re hurt—”

“No matter—not important!” Narciso nodded, “You must get home and warn your parents!”

“What?” Andrew asked in surprise.

“Tell him to go away and close the door,” the girl giggled.

“Tenorio! Tenorio, that cursed dog! He is making trouble for la Grande! He has made threats!”

“Oh,” Andrew laughed, “is that all. You had me worried for a moment, amigo—”

“Is that all!” Narciso cried. “He has made threats! Even now he might be up to no good! You must get home, I cannot, I am too old, I cannot get there in this storm—”

“Shut the door! It’s cold!” the girl whimpered.

“Where is Tenorio?” Andrew asked. I prayed that he would listen to Narciso. I wanted him to leave this evil place and help Ultima. I knew that Narciso was exhausted, and the storm was too much for him. I even doubted that I could get home. My body was numbed and feverish, and the way home was long and hard.

“He drove off in his truck! Just now we fought at the—”

“At the saloon,” Andrew finished. “You two have been drinking and quarreling. Now you make a big story out of it—”

“¡Ay Dios! For the sake of your mother please come!” Narciso implored.

“But where?” Andrew answered. “If there is trouble, my father is home. He can take care of things, and Tenorio would not dare to face him again, you know that. Besides, Tenorio has probably crawled into a warm bed by now, to sleep off his drunk!”

The girl giggled. “Come in, Andrew,” she pleaded.

“If you won’t go, get the sheriff to go!” Narciso cried in exasperation. But it was no use, Andrew simply did not see the urgency of the situation.

“To the sheriff!” he said in disbelief, “and make a fool out of myself!”

“He would throw you both in the drunk tank,” the young girl scoffed, “then I would be alone all night, and—” Her voice was sweet with allurement.

Andrew laughed. “That’s true, Narciso. But come in. I’ll get Rosie to make an exception—”

“¡Ay, pendejo!” Narciso pulled away. “The diablas putas have turned your mind! You do not think with your brains, but with your balls—I tell you, Andrés, you will be lost, like your brothers—” He stumbled away from the door.

“Close the door, Andrew,” the girl begged, “only fools and drunks would be out in that storm—”

“¡Narciso!”

The door banged shut. Narciso stood in the dark. “Fools and drunks and the devil,” he mumbled. “So the young buck will sleep with his whore while that devil Tenorio is out plotting evil on his family—there is no one else that will cross the bridge and climb the hill—then I will go. Am I so old that a storm of the llano can frighten me? I will go warn Márez myself, just as I did before—”

I looked over the edge of the porch and saw him fumbling in his pocket. He retrieved a bottle and gurgled down the last draft of sweet wine. He tossed the bottle aside, shrugged his shoulders and walked into the blinding snowstorm. “The llano bred and sustained me,” he murmured, “it can bury me—”

I lifted myself up from where I had crouched and followed him. My clothes were wet and ice was beginning to form on the outside as the cold increased. I did not know what time it was nor did I care. I followed Narciso mechanically, weak and disillusioned I tramped after him into the dark twilight of the storm.

I clung to him like his guardian shadow, staying just far enough behind so that he would not see me. I wanted no one to see me, and the storm swirled its eddies of snow around me and obscured me from the world. I had seen evil, and so I carried the evil within me, and the holy sacraments of confession and the holy eucharist were far away. I had somehow lost my innocence and let sin enter into my soul, and the knowledge of God, the saving grace, was far away.

The sins of the town would be washed in the waters of the golden carp…

The two lightposts of the bridge were a welcome sight. They signaled the dividing line between the turbulence of the town and its sins and the quiet peace of the hills of the llano. I felt somewhat relieved as we crossed the storm-swept bridge. Beyond was home and safety, the warm arms of my mother, the curing power of Ultima, and the strength of my father. He would not allow Tenorio to intrude upon our quiet hills.

But could he stop the intrusion? The townspeople had killed Lupito at the bridge and desecrated the river. Then Tenorio and his men had come upon the hill with hate in their hearts. My father had tried to keep his land holy and pure, but perhaps it was impossible. Perhaps the llano was like me, as I grew the innocence was gone, and so too the land changed. The people would come to commit murder on it.