The Crossing(80)
She’d heard the horses on the road and she sat in her hammock and raised one hand to shade her eyes and look out although the sun was behind her and the awning shaded her anyway.
I guess they just camp out like gypsies, Billy said.
They are gypsies.
Who says?
Everbody.
The horse’s ears quartered the compass for the source of the music.
They’re broke down.
What makes you say that?
They’d of got farthern this.
Maybe they just decided to stop here.
What for? There aint nothin here.
Billy leaned and spat. You reckon she’s here just by herself? I dont know.
What do you reckons got into the horses?
I dont know.
She’s done went and put the spyglasses to us now.
The primadonna had fetched up from the table a small pair of lorgnette operaglasses and was peering toward the road with them.
Let’s get down.
All right.
They walked the horses along the road and he sent the girl over to see if the woman needed anything. The music stopped. The woman called into the caravan and after a while the music began again.
There’s a mule’s died, Boyd said.
How do you know?
There just has.
Billy looked over the camp. There were no animals of any description about.
Likely the mules is hobbled up in them oaks yonder, he said. No they aint.
When the girl came back she said that one of the mules had died.
Shit, said Billy.
What, said Boyd.
You all set that up.
Set what up?
About the mule. She’s made a signal or somethin.
A dead mule signal.
Yeah.
Boyd leaned and spat and shook his head. The girl stood with one hand shading her eyes waiting. Billy looked at her. Her thin clothes. Her dusty legs. Her feet in huaraches made from strapleather and rawhide. He asked her how long the men had been gone and she said two days.
We better go over and see if she’s all right.
What do you aim to do if she aint’, Boyd said.
Hell if I know.
Well why dont we just keep ridin.
I thought you was the one liked to go around rescuin people.
Boyd didnt answer. He mounted up and Billy turned and looked up at him. He shucked one boot out of the stirrup and leaned down and gave the girl his hand and she put her foot in the stirrup and he swung her up and then put the horse forward. Well let’s go, he said. If they aint nothin else will satisfy you.
He followed them out across the field. When the workers saw them coming they began once again to grub in the ground with their short hoes. He rode up alongside Boyd and they sat their horses side by side before the reclining primadonna and wished her a good afternoon. She nodded. She studied them across the top of the splayed fan. It was painted with some oriental scene and the bolsters were of ivory inlaid with silver wire.
Los hombres han salido por Madero? said Billy.
She nodded. She said that they would be returning at any moment. She lowered the fan slightly and looked out down the road south. As if they might be appearing even now.
Billy sat his horse. He didnt seem to be able to think what else to say. After a while he took his hat off.
You are Americans, the woman said.
Yes mam. I reckon the girl told you.
There is nothing to hide.
We dont have nothin to hide. I just come over to see if there was anything we could do for you.
She arched her painted brows in surprise.
I thought maybe you all was broke down out here.
She looked at Boyd. Boyd looked off toward the mountains to the south.
We’re headed yonway, Billy said. If you wanted us to carry a message or anything.
She sat up slightly in the hammock and called out into the caravan. Basta, she called. Basta la música.
She sat listening, one hand balanced on the table. In a moment the music ceased and she subsided again into the hammock and spread the fan and looked across the top of it at the young jinete who sat his horse before her. Billy looked toward the caravan thinking someone might appear in the doorway but no one did.
What all did the mule die of? he said.
That mule, she said. That mule died because its blood all fell out in the road.
Mam?
She raised a hand languidly before her, her ringed and tapered fingers weaving. As if she described the ascending of the animal’s soul.
That mule was having his troubles but no one could reason with that mule. Gasparito should not have been put to attend to the wants of that mule. He had no temperament for such a mule. Now you see what has come to pass.
No mam.
Drinking too. In these matters drinking is always present. And then the fear. The other mules are screaming. Tienen mucho miedo. Screaming. Sliding and failing in the blood and screaming. What does one say to these animals? How does one put their minds at rest?
She made a peremptory gesture to one side. As of some casting to the winds in the dry hot solitude, the birdcalls in the little glade, the evening’s onset. Can such animals ever be restored to their former state? There can be no question. Especially in the case of dramatic mules such as these mules. These mules can have no peace now. No peace. You see?