Bless Me, Ultima (20 page)

“Is that right, Tony?” Florence asked.

“She blinded a man!” Abel nodded vigorously.

“How?”

“Witchcraft—”

“Ah la verga—”

They were around me now, looking at me. The circle was tight and quiet. Around us the playground was one jarring, humming noise, but inside the circle it was quiet.

“Come on you guys!” Red said, “this is Tony’s first year with us! Let’s play ball! Come on, there ain’t no such thing as witches—”

“There is if you’re a Catholic!” Lloyd countered.

“Yeah,” Horse agreed, “Red don’t know nothing about anything. He’s going to hell because he’s not a Catholic!”

“Bullshit!” Red said.

“It’s true,” Lloyd said, “heaven is only for Catholics!”

“Not really—” Florence nodded, his angular figure rocking back and forth.

“Come on, Tony,” Ernie said coming closer, “she is a witch, ain’t she! They were going to burn her, huh!”

“They would have to drive a stake through her heart to make it legal,” Lloyd said.

“She is not a witch; she is a good woman,” I answered. I barely heard myself speak. Out of the corner of one eye I saw Samuel sitting on the seesaws.

“You calling me a liar!” Ernie shouted in my face. His saliva was hot and bitter. Someone said he only drank goat’s milk because he was allergic to cow’s milk.

“Yes!” I shouted in his face. I had felt like running away, but I remembered my father and Narciso standing firm for Ultima. I saw Ernie’s eyes narrow and felt the vacuum created as everyone held his breath. Then Ernie’s arms snapped out and the football he was holding hit me full on my face. I instinctively struck out and felt my fist land on his chin.

“Fight! Fight!” Horse shouted and jumped on me. I opened my watering eyes as I went down and saw Bones pile on top of Ernie. After that, it was a free-for-all. Everyone jumped into the swirling, thrashing pile. Curses and grunts and groans filled the air briefly, then a couple of the junior high teachers reached into the pile and pulled us out, one by one. No one was hurt and it was the first day of school, so they did not report us to the principal. They only laughed at us, and we laughed along with them. The bell rang and we ran to begin another year of school.

No one teased me about Ultima after that. If I had been willing to take on Ernie I guess they figured that I would fight anybody. It wasn’t worth it. And besides, behind the force that Red and Samuel would lend me in a fight lay the powerful, unknown magic of Ultima.

The pleasant autumn days were all too quickly eroded by the winds of time. School settled into routine. As the cold settled over the llano and there was less to do on the farms and ranches, more and more of those kids came into school. The green of the river passed through a bright orange and turned brown. The trickle of water in the river bed was quiet, not singing as in the summer. The afternoons were gray and quiet, charged with the air of ripeness and belonging. There was a safe, secure welcome in opening the kitchen door and being greeted by the warm aroma of cooking, and my mother and Ultima.

Just before Christmas the snows and winds of the llano locked the land in an icy grip. After school the playgrounds were quickly deserted, and if you had to stay after school it was eerie and lonely to walk alone through the deserted streets. Snows alternated with the wind of the llano, the coldest wind of the world. The snows would melt then the wind would freeze the water into ice. Then the snows would come again. The river was completely frozen over. The great trees that lined the banks looked like giant snowmen huddling together for warmth. On the llano the cattlemen struggled to feed their herds. Many animals were lost, and the talk was always about the terrible cold of this winter that competed with other years lost in the memories of the old people.

The entire school looked forward eagerly to Christmas vacation. The two weeks would be a welcome relief from trudging back and forth to school. The last thing we looked forward to doing in school was the presentation of the play we had done in Miss Violet’s room. Actually the girls had done the work, but we all took credit for it.

No one had expected the blizzard that blew in the night before we were to give our play. “¡Madre mía!” I heard my mother cry. I looked over frosty, frozen blankets and saw my small window entirely covered with ice. With the cold hugging me like death I dressed and ran steaming into the warm kitchen. “Look!” my mother said. She had cleaned a small spot on the icy window. I looked out and saw a white countryside, desolate except where ripples of blue broke the snowdrifts.

“The girls will not go to school today,” she said to Ultima, “what’s one day. Deborah, Theresa!” she called up the stairs, “stay in bed! The snow has covered the goat path!”

I heard squeals and giggles from upstairs.

“Will Tony go?” Andrew asked, walking to the stove and shivering, dressed to do battle with the snow drifts.

“I have to go,” I answered, “the play is today—”

“It is not good,” Ultima whispered. She did not mean the play, she meant something in the weather because I saw her raise her head slightly as if to sniff the scent of the wind outside.

“It’s only one day, Tony,” Andrew said, coming to sit at the breakfast table.

“It is good for him,” my mother said. She served us bowls of steaming atole and hot tortillas. “If he is to be a priest, he should learn early about sacrifice—”

Andrew looked at me and I at him, but we didn’t speak. Instead Andrew asked, “How about work at the highway? Has it opened up?”

“Ay no,” my mother said, “the ground is frozen. Your father has been home two weeks—only the salt trucks are out.”

“What’s the play about, Tony?” Andrew asked.

“Christ,” I said.

“What part do you play?”

“A shepherd.”

“You think you should go to school?” he inquired. I knew he was concerned because the snow was so deep.

“Yes,” I nodded.

“How about you, Andrés?” my mother asked, “I thought today was your day off at the store—”

“It is,” Andrew answered, “just going to pick up my check.”

“And see your girl,” my mother smiled.

“No girl,” Andrew frowned. “Come on, Tony.” He rose and put on his jacket. “Let’s get going.”

My mother tucked me into my jacket and put my wool cap on my head. “My man of learning,” she smiled and kissed my forehead. “Que dios te bendiga.”

“Gracias,” I said. “Adiós, Ultima.” I went to her and gave her my hand.

“Take care of the evil in the wind,” she whispered and bent low to kiss my cheek. “Sí,” I answered. I put my hand to my chest where I wore her scapular and she nodded.

“Come on!” Andrew called from the door. I ran after him and followed him down the goat path, trying to step in his footsteps where he broke the snow. The early morning sun was shining and everything was bright. It hurt my eyes to see so much whiteness. “Perhaps the blizzard will lift now…” Andrew puffed ahead of me. In the west the clouds were still dark, but I said nothing. It was slow walking through the thick snow, and by the time we got to the bridge our feet were wet, but it was not cold.

“There’s the Kid.” It was the first time I had ever seen the Kid standing still. He and Samuel had caught sight of us and were waiting.

“Race!” the Kid called as we came up.

“Not today,” Andrew answered, “you’re liable to break your neck on that ice.” He nodded and we looked down the ice-covered sidewalk of the bridge. Cars had splashed ice water onto the sidewalk and overnight it had frozen solid. We had to pick our way carefully across the bridge. Still the Kid did not trust us. He walked just ahead of us, backwards, so that he could see us at all times.

“Did you hear about the fight last night?” Samuel asked. He walked quietly beside us. Our breath made plumes in the crisp, raw air. Down in the river the water, bushes, trees, everything was covered with ice. The sun from the east sparkled on everything and created a frozen fairyland.

“No,” Andrew said. “Who?”

“Tenorio and Narciso—”

I listened carefully. I still remembered Tenorio’s threat.

“Where?”

“At the Longhorn.”

“Drunk?”

“Drinking—”

“Who told you?”

“My father was there. My father was drinking with Narciso,” Samuel said, “then Tenorio came in from El Puerto. Tenorio was cursing la Grande, Ultima. Then he cursed Narciso in front of the men. But it wasn’t until he cursed all of the people of Las Pasturas that Narciso got up and pulled that funny little beard that grows on Tenorio’s face—”

“Ha!” Andrew laughed. “Serves that old bastard right!”

Samuel continued, “My father says it will not end at that—”

We reached the end of the bridge and the Kid jumped across. He had won the walking race.

“Where will it end?” I asked Samuel.

“It will only end when blood is spilled,” Samuel said. “My father says that the blood of a man thickens with the desire for revenge, and if a man is to be complete again then he must let some of that thick blood flow—”

We stopped and it was very quiet. One car started across the bridge. It moved very slowly, its tires slipping on the ice. Up ahead a few of the gas station owners could be seen sweeping snow from their driveways. Everyone was hoping the blizzard had lifted. Everyone was sick of the cold.

“They are drunks with nothing better to do than argue like old women,” Andrew laughed. “Perhaps your father would be right if he were talking of men.”

“Drunks and devils are also men,” Samuel countered.

“Ah!” Andrew puffed white steam, “you guys run on to school. See you tonight, Tony.”

“See you,” I waved. The Kid had already bolted away. I ran to keep up with Samuel.

The schoolhouse was quiet, like a tomb frozen over by winter. The buses didn’t come in because of the blizzard, and even most of the town kids stayed home. But Horse and Bones and the rest of the gang from Los Jaros were there. They were the dumbest kids in school, but they never missed a single day. Hell could freeze over but they would still come marching across the tracks, wrestling, kicking at each other, stomping into the classrooms where they fidgeted nervously all day and made things miserable for their teachers.

“Where are the girls?” Bones sniffed the wind wildly and plunked into a frozen desk.

“They didn’t come,” I answered.

“Why?” “¡Chingada!” “What about the play?”

“I don’t know,” I said and pointed to the hall where Miss Violet conferred with the other teachers who had come to school. They all wore their sweaters and shivered. Downstairs the furnace groaned and made the steam radiators ping, but it was still cold.

“No play, shit!” Abel moaned.

Miss Violet came in. “What did you say, Abel?”

“No play, shucks,” Abel said.

“We can still have a play,” Miss Violet sat down and we gathered around her, “if the boys play the parts—”

We all looked at each other. The girls had set up all the stuff in the auditorium; and they had, with Miss Violet’s help, composed the story about the three wise men. Originally we just stood around and acted like shepherds, but now we would have to do everything because the girls stayed home.

“Yeahhhhhh!” Horse breathed on Miss Violet.

“The other teachers don’t have much to do, with so many kids absent,” she turned away from the inquisitive Horse, “and they would like to come to our play—”

“Aghhhh Nooooo,” Bones growled.

“We have to read all the parts,” Lloyd said. He was carefully picking at his nose.

“We could practice all morning,” Miss Violet said. She looked at me.

“I think it’s a great idea,” Red nodded his head vigorously. He always tried to help the teacher.

“¡A la veca!”

“What does that mean?” Miss Violet asked.

“It means okay!”

So the rest of the morning we sat around reading the parts for the play. It was hard because the kids from Los Jaros couldn’t read. After lunch we went to the auditorium for one quick practice before the other teachers came in with their classes. Being on stage scared us and some of the boys began to back down. Bones climbed up a stage rope and perched on a beam near the ceiling. He refused to come down and be in the play.

“Boooooooo-enz!” Miss Violet called, “come down!”

Bones snapped down at her like a cornered dog. “The play is for sissies!” he shouted.

Horse threw a chunk of a two-by-four at him and almost clobbered him. The board fell and hit the Kid and knocked him out cold. It was funny because although he turned white and was out, his legs kept going, like he was racing someone across the bridge. Miss Violet worked frantically to revive him. She was very worried.

“Here.” Red had gone for water which he splashed on the Kid’s face. The Kid groaned and opened his eyes.

“¡Cabrón Caballo!” he cursed.

The rest of us were either putting on the silly robes and towels to make us look like shepherds, or wandering around the stage. Someone tipped the Christ child over and it lost its head.

“There ain’t no such thing as virgin birth,” Florence said looking down at the decapitated doll. He looked like a madman, with his long legs sticking out beneath the short robe and his head wound in a turban.

“You’re all a bunch of sissies!” Bones shouted from above. Horse aimed the two-by-four again but Miss Violet stopped him in time.

“Go put the head on the doll,” she said.

“I gotta go to the bathroom,” Abel said. He held the front of his pants.

Miss Violet nodded her head slowly, closed her eyes and said, “No.”

“You could be sued for not letting him go,” Lloyd said in his girlish voice. He was chewing on a Tootsie Roll. Chocolate dripped down the sides of his mouth and made him look evil.

“I could also be tried for murder!” Miss Violet reached for Lloyd, but he ducked and disappeared behind one of the cardboard cows by the manger.

“Come on you guys, let’s cooperate!” Red shouted. He had been busy trying to get everyone to stand in their places. We had decided to make everyone stand in one place during the play. It would be easier that way. Only the kings would step forth to the manger and offer their gifts.

“Places! Places!” Miss Violet shouted. “Joseph?” she called and I stepped forward. “Mary? Who is Mary?”