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Authors: Irene Beltrán Hernández

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BOOK: Across the Great River
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I follow her out the rear door to the shed, where she hands me a metal pan. “Now, take this corn and go feed the chickens.” She takes a handful of feed and spreads it on the ground. “Like this, see. The chicken pen is behind this shed. After all the feed is gone, gather the eggs and bring them inside.”

I set about the task, understanding that we must pay for our keep in some manner. After I finish that chore, she sends me to gather green peppers and after an hour, I feel like my back has been broken into hundreds of pieces.

I take the peppers into the house, then go back to the old well to draw some cool drinking water. I throw in the old bucket that is sitting on the ledge and
watch as it falls into the dark hole. It seems like many seconds pass and yards of rope fall before I hear the bucket splash down.

I start cranking the handle to bring up the bucket. It is heavy, so I lean against the edge of the well. A few loose bricks fall out of place and drop into the deep hole below. Frightened, I let go of the crank. The crank begins to spin rapidly and it knocks me backwards onto the ground. I rise and shake the dust off my skirt and decide that the drink will have to wait.

“Kata!” she screams. “While you are out there, pull up a potato or two for supper.”

“Where are they?” I scream back.

“In the garden, girl. Where else would they be?”

I look over the rows of plants. I cannot find the potatoes, so I go up to the back porch. “I do not know which is the potato plant.”

“That girl does not know a potato plant from a sunflower. May the Lord have mercy on her inexperienced soul. But she is lucky, for I will teach her many things while she stays with me.”

I bow my head, feeling very foolish, but I do not say I am sorry. She slams the screen door, then passes me in a huff, so much so that her skirt seems to slap me in the face.

I follow her to the potato plants and watch as she digs deep into the earth. “Watch, girl. It is not hard to find potatoes. Now, see if you can bring me in four or five for our supper.” As she rises and turns, her skirt seems to fan out and throw dirt at me.

Later, we sit around the table, eating supper. Pablito sits on her lap and giggles. He likes her, but I am not so comfortable, so I glance across the room to Mama, who still sleeps.

“Perhaps tomorrow she will wake up,” she says in a much softer voice than she had used all day.

Our eyes meet. Her good one is red-brown and narrow like a speck. Her bad one is grey-blue, almost cloud-like. Her hair is red-brown mixed with much gray. It almost looks dead.

“What is your name?” I ask bravely.

“Anita. Anita Morales.”

“Have you no children?”

“I have no need for children!” she answers sharply.

I feel as if she has slapped me again. I ask no further questions. I just eat my beans in silence, watching her and Pablito play together. Perhaps she likes boys instead of girls. Maybe it is because he's still a baby and everyone loves babies. That's why she likes him, I decide, because he's harmless and loveable.

A sharp knock pierces the room and I jump out of my chair. Again the knock, but this time much harder.

Anita motions for me to remain quiet, then she walks over to the door. “Who is it”

“Chente. Please, Doña Anita, open up!”

“Ah, you foolish man. You're more trouble than your hide is worth!” She curses under breath, then opens the door to let him step inside.

He stoops as he comes through the door. Then he removes his hat and stands waiting for Anita to invite him further into the house. Anita stands rooted and does not speak. Her arms are crossed over her huge hanging breasts.

He glances over at Mama, then nods to me before he speaks. “We have not found him, señora. Our fear is that he was shot and has floated downstream. We could not even find his guitar. There are many agents
covering the area, making it impossible for us to get any closer.”

“You mulehead!” shouts Anita.

“Yes, señora. My compadre and I are going into hiding until things cool off!”

“You donkey! What am I to do with these children and that sick woman?” Anita grabs him by the collar and pulls him to her.

He closes his eyes and turns his face as Anita blows her fowl breath into his nose. He shrugs slightly, offering no suggestions. “I cannot say, señora.”

“A donkey's ass! You must pay me for their keep. The woman is sick and cannot work or travel. She could die! What if they check this place?” She releases his shirt and throws him against the closed door.

“I think not, señora. We will not betray you.” He bends at the knees slowly to pick up his hat. “Besides, no one ever comes out here.”

Anita steps toward him and he shrinks against the door in fear. “Give me money, you goat of Satan! Or I will put a curse on you that will never be removed!” Her fat arms are flying all over the place, and her fingers seem to turn into sharp thorns as she approaches him. The man appears faint, but he does not take his eyes off her.

I cry out, knowing that she does not want us or our troubles, but I do not care. I fall to my knees on hearing that Papa is gone and shall never return. It is as if I have been pierced by a sharp arrow dipped in poison. Tears flow and I cover my eyes and mouth with my hands. Pablito comes over to me and leans against me for comfort, but I still shake and gasp for air.

Chapter Three

With shaking hands, the man reaches into his shirt pocket and pulls out a roll of bills from which he takes three and hands them to Anita.

“Stupid!” yells Anita at the top of her lungs. She suddenly lunges forward and yanks the roll out of his hands. “Get out of my sight!” she warns.

The man stumbles out the door and hurries to the truck. Anita jerks open the door and chases after him, raging like a mad bull.

The shouting and cursing frightens Pablito and he begins to cry. I try to calm him, but as miracles go, his violent cries enter Mama's ears. She gasps, then moans loudly. Her eyes flutter open as she turns slowly to search the room for us.

“Kata? Pablito? Where are you? Where is Carlos?”

I pick up Pablito and rush to the bed. “Here, Mama!”

“Thank the Lord!” She reaches out to touch my hand, but the pain in her arm shoots out. She recoils like a snake.

“Be still, señora. You should not move. You need rest.”

Mama's eyes dart toward Anita and searches Anita's face for recognition. “I do not know you.”

“You are in my home. You were brought here last night by some men, the kind that look for easy money. Fear not, the scoundrels shall be punished. I have put a curse on them.”

“Carlos? Where is Carlos?” Mama turns to me for the answer.

I am about to tell her when the old one stares at
me with such a strong gleam that it catches my eye and mind. It is as if I am able to read her thoughts.

Anita answers, “He will return later.” She glances up at me and seems to wink with her good eye. “Rest now, señora. You need your strength.” She lays her fat hand over Mama's forehead, then closes both her crooked eye and her good one. She chants under her breath and Mama falls into an instant sleep.

I gasp. “Are you a witch?”

Anita roars and as quickly as the laughter began, it stops. She stares straight at me. “No, I am not a witch. I am a healer, and a seer. I work for God, not for the devil. Remember, there is a difference.”

I do not want to show my ignorance, so I do not ask further questions, for I am glad for whatever miracle she has worked. She brought Mama back to me and for that I owe her much.

Anita stands and looks down at Mama. “She will be fine in a few days.” She turns to the cot on which she sleeps. “Let's rest now.”

That night I sleep peacefully, knowing that Mama will soon be well.

The next morning I awake to find Anita and Pablito still sleeping. I glance up at the window where the sun already shines in brightly, then I sit up and rub my eyes. I listen to Mama's breathing, which comes in and out slowly, and to Anita's mild snore. Pablito stirs, then sits up, too. He is wet, so I get a towel to change him. He coos when he feels the dry towel between his legs, then he smiles happily.

“Hush, Pablito. The old one is still sleeping,” I whisper.

Anita turns in her cot. “No, I am not sleeping, only resting.” The cot squeaks as she sits up. “Today is
Sunday, so we sleep late. No work on Sunday, just eat and rest.”

“I am glad, señora,” I reply.

Anita rises and slips her skirt over her long gown, then pulls on a blouse. Over that she ties an apron, and then she goes out to the porch to wash her face and hands.

I rise and pick the hay from my skirt and hair, then I go out the back door to the outhouse. Pablito tags behind me. I sit on the wooden seat and watch as Pablito opens and closes the door, squealing in delight each time it slams hard before me. Then he decides to yank off my panties which lay gathered at my ankles, but I close my legs so that he cannot get them off my feet.

“No! Pablito, don't do that!” I warn. “Go play with the chickens.” But he does not obey. He pulls harder and almost yanks me off the wooden seat. “Pablito!” I beg. “Por favor, please, go play!”

He is distracted by a wild bunny that hops by and he forgets about my panties and chases after the bunny. I watch as he stops to pick up a stick and tries to hit the bunny who has hidden under a clump of firewood.

“No, Pablito! Don't hit the bunny. He's a nice baby bunny.” But he goes right on chasing it from log to log. The bunny finally disappears under the pile of logs and refuses to come out. Then Pablito starts crying.

I pick him up and take him into the house where Anita is cooking breakfast. “Hurry up and eat, for we must clean up before Don Juan comes for dinner.”

“Who is Don Juan?” I ask, putting Pablito on a chair.

“He is my neighbor. An old foolish man that
comes by on Sundays just to eat a meal that has been cooked by a woman.” She chuckles. “His ranchito is ten miles away. I tell you, he is such a foolish man that sometimes he even pays me for cooking Sunday dinner.”

“That is good for you,” I add, feeding Pablito an egg.

“Yes, that is so.” she winks.

I am brushing out Mama's hair when I hear the churning of an engine. I look out the window to see a beat up Model-T of a pickup cough, then stop dead a few feet away from the porch.

“He is here,” announces Anita as she smoothes her apron. She picks up Pablito and carries him out to the porch to greet Don Juan.

Mama, who sits up in bed, smiles when she hears them making funny, loving noises at Pablito. “They like him,” she says.

“Yes, but she does not like me, Mama,” I add, sitting on the edge of the bed.

“Kata, give her time, for she has not been around children in a long time.”

“How do you know, Mama?” I ask.

She doesn't answer because Don Juan enters the room. He slowly removes his large straw hat and bows to Mama. “How are you, señora?”

“Better, thanks to Doña Anita,” answers Mama.

Don Juan, I notice, is much smaller than Anita. His head is half bald and his hair and mustache are white, and so are the clothes he wears. His eyes twinkle and immediatly I decide that I like him.

“Oh, yes. Dear Anita is a great healer in these parts. You are lucky those men brought you here.”

Anita's arms fly out. “Hush, Don Juan. You talk rubbish.” She turns to the stove, rattling the pans.

“Oh, no. You know it's true, woman. You have a fine reputation for healing with all your herbs and tonics.”

“Don Juan, you are making a mountain out of all this. I insist that you shut your mouth.” She lifts a pot from the stove and puts it on the table.

He smiles, showing his grey teeth. “What's for dinner, my dear woman?”

He pats her behind and she pushes him away. “Get away, man!” she warns as she lifts the spoon to his head.

Mama and I laugh and they both turn red as ripe tomatoes. Anita starts laughing when she sees Pablito clinging to Don Juan's leg, trying to taste it.

During supper, I notice that Anita seems nice with Don Juan around. She enjoys watching him eat his food, as if he hadn't eaten all week long.

After supper Anita and Don Juan sit on the porch and talk as they watch the sun go down. Pablito crawls in and out between their legs and they do not seem to mind.

Much later Don Juan enters the room to say goodnight to Mama. “I will go into town to check the jails to see if your husband is there. Anita wishes me to do that for you, and I owe her many favors. Besides, there could be trouble if you go, since you are not from these parts.”

“I understand, Don Juan, and I appreciate your kindness.”

He bows low and puts on his floppy straw hat. “See you later, children.” He goes outside to the old truck and cranks it up. It whines, then stops. “Come on, old blue. Don't let me down now,” he demands. The engine cranks up and sputters as he turns out of the yard. “See you old girl!” he shouts to Anita.

Before we go to bed, Anita approaches Mama and asks about her plans. Mama shakes her head and says, “I have no idea what to do.” Anita sits on the edge of the bed. “If need be,” continues Mama, “I can get a job as a dishwasher in the town. I know we are a burden to you and I appreciate your help.”

“You are only a tiny burden in comparison to the rest of the world's problems. Besides, I enjoy the boy and those rascals that got you into this mess helped by giving me money.” From between her breasts she pulls out a roll of bills. “Here. It's yours and the children's. You will need it to find a place to stay in town.”

“Oh, I cannot take the money. It's rightfully yours for tending to us.”

“What use have I for money? I seldom get into town.” Anita thrusts the bills into Mama's hands.

“You are kind, señora. How will we ever repay you?”

BOOK: Across the Great River
13.63Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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