She was glad the vaquero was gone. She had never hated anyone like she hated him. May he rot in Hell, she kept telling herself. The filthy pig! Her thoughts wandered towards the foreman, Roy. She had been in love with him for years, and on many occasions, they had had a sexual encounter. But Roy never spoke of love or any commitment of marriage. She also thought of the many nights she had pleased el Señor George Juelson in his bedroom chambers. This was also a secret that only Doña Adela knew, and if the truth ever came out, she and her family would be thrown off Spanish Acres in disgrace. El Señor George Juelson was kind and had promised her land and had given her a legal document, but then he died. She missed him terribly.
Yolanda's passion for the handsome Roy was starting to lose ground, especially when she saw him peeking into Soledad's quarters where she lay sickly. The other servants remarked that Roy had been asking about Soledad. But, it was because he was worried and concerned like everyone else had been. Everyone was nervous and agitated with fear. Yes! That had to be the reason, she kept telling herself. So many times Roy had played his guitar, singing only for her, in the courtyard. Things were getting too complicated, and she had to get things ready for el patrón, traveling to San Antonio.
"Maria!" Yolanda cried as she approached the huge dining area. "The guest will be right down. I have to go empty this," she said, showing Maria the urinal.
"Bueno," Mamá Maria replied. "As soon as you empty the urinal, wash it clean and place it back in the bedroom. Clean the bedroom, and make sure you open the windows so that it airs the room out. Then come down into the kitchen so you can help with the guest's breakfast." In the kitchen, the women's skillful hands went swiftly into action.
Juan hurried out into the hallway and stood, unsure not knowing which way to go. He kept hearing pounding coming from the downstairs. He remembered the direction from which he had come to his bedroom last night, but the mansion was enormous. He could have taken the long hall, and then walked down the side cement steps that led down the long corridors into the kitchen area, but instead, he decided to go through the main area of the house. Walking down from the middle on the main stairs, he stood to observe the beauty of the mansion, amazed at the magnificent decor. He could hear music coming from the parlor of the house and echoing along the massive columns of solid, whitewashed stone supporting the upstairs structure. The floors were inlaid of pure white Italian marble throughout the house. Oriental and Persian carpets lay on the marble steps as a protection for the slick, glass-like floors. There was imported fine china, and enormous crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling. Massive, dark French and Spanish furniture were in use throughout the hacienda. Golden framed mirrors and splendid paintings decorated the walls, while large vases graced each corner. Luxurious velvet drapes covered the French windows that led to the outside courtyard, patios, and fountains.
Juan found his way by the aroma wafting down the long tile halls and finally, after several twists and turns, was soon comfortably seated in the dining room next to the bustling open-air kitchen area as servants hurried in and out of the kitchen. The huge, dark oak table was adorned with a white Spanish lace tablecloth and set with fine china plates. It would easily seat over twenty guests. The tableware was pure silver, and the glasses were fine crystal. The chairs were large and dark, carved with Spanish designs.
In front of him, a platter of food was set that could easily choke a dog: two fried eggs, and fried frijoles, fried potatoes, and a large beefsteak weighing over a pound and sizzling hot, stood waiting for him. Whipped hot chocolate with cinnamon sat beside a cup of coffee and a large pitcher of orange juice. There were little trays of homemade sweet pastries, called empañadas, along with a tangy tomato sauce mixed with green chilies. On the side was a platter of warm corn tortillas, wrapped in white cloth.
"What a meal!" Juan retorted. "I can't eat this much. Yes, I'm hungry, but—"
"La Señora ordered this for your breakfast this morning!" Ophelia interrupted in her gravelly voice, solemnly pouring steaming coffee into his cup.
"Excuse me, Señora! I don't want to be nosey, but what's all the loud pounding I kept hearing from the upstairs room? "
A smile appeared on the old lady's face and she began laughing. "Manuel and some of the helpers are busy killing insects and snakes that have crawled in from the water. The storm brought in many bugs—they are everywhere! They have killed several large, black tarantulas on the walls, and many scorpions and centipedes are inside the house. Some of the vaqueros have already killed several rattlers." After imparting this information, the servant departed, giggling, leaving Juan to finish his breakfast.
Black tarantulas, scorpions, centipedes, rattlers—delicious, especially with my breakfast, he thought. "Ah, delicious!" he said softly under his breath.
After his breakfast, and while still sitting at the table, Juan caught a glimpse of Don Federico and Roy talking as they came from the kitchen. There was much activity going in the hacienda, as dogs barked continually. Women around the kitchen area chatted with one another, dishes rattled, and occasional giggles erupted, interwoven with music coming from the far end of the house.
The music abruptly stopped. Fred and Miss Belle presented themselves, found chairs, and sat next to him. Juan was delighted and asked Fred, "I love the music you were playing. Chopin, Beethoven, Mozart? There is nothing more beautiful than the sound of the violin. Is that what you plan to be when you grow up? Becoming a violinist? By the way," he turned, addressing Miss Belle, "you are a wonderful teacher."
Miss Belle smiled and replied, "Thank you!"
"No!" Fred answered. "My father wants me to be a lawyer, but I want to be a doctor."
"Ah!" Replied Juan, amused at the young boy's comment. "A very noble profession, but it takes long hours of studying the human anatomy…long hours of dedication…long diligent hours, healing and taking care of people. It's a big commitment. I'm taking a sabbatical at this time while taking care of political matters for my country. But as soon as Mexico gets on its feet, I will continue for at least two more years and get my degree, before I can set up my practice and become a physician."
Olivia and Ophelia entered the kitchen area and one of them spoke. "I just made some fresh coffee. Or can I get you anything else?" she said, addressing Juan and Miss Bell.
The plain, mousy looking Miss Belle held up a cup and replied, "Yes! Thank you."
Juan nodded his head, and Fred requested a large glass of orange juice.
Don Federico walked in with Roy and smiled at Juan and asked, "Did you have a good rest, Compadre? How was your breakfast?" He yelled to the kitchen crew, "Bring some coffee!"
Juan stood up graciously and shook Don Federico's hand. "Wonderful! The best rest I've had in months and the breakfast was outstanding and delicious! Gracias! Your hospitality is extraordinary. I'll be seeing about your patient as soon as I've cleaned up and washed my hands."
"Ah! There's no hurry!" Don Federico answered. "Take your time. Rest and enjoy our hacienda and our hospitality. You'll be here for at least a week, or two, since nobody can get out. The roads are soaked with mud and are impassable."
He turned to Roy. "The vaqueros and I have a lot of work to do, especially getting the young mavericks to higher ground. There are fences to mend, posts to fix. The damage the wind and water did last night made a mess, especially to the shit houses. Don't forget that! Not only that but go around killing snakes, insects, and tarantulas. They are everywhere!"
"By golly, dat mud is slick'r than snot on a door knob," commented Roy, looking at his boots, his jeans, and jacket, with both hands lifted up in the air. He had mud clear up to his chin. "It's nothin'—we've seen it worse!" Everyone began laughing, for the weather had now become the main topic.
Doña Francisca walked in from the kitchen with Manuel. Both of them carried large baskets of eggs, vegetables, and homemade cheese. She was surprised but glad to see everyone laughing and having a good time in the dining room. While departing from the cookin
g area, she started to cough and then regained her composure. "Buenos días, Juan. Have you had breakfast?" she asked, very cheerfully.
Juan stood up and responded with a gracious "yes" and "gracias," again. Doña Francisca smiled and headed into the kitchen, while Mamá Maria took the basket from her hands and said, "This cheese will make excellent enchiladas for the evening meal."
While the chattering and commotion were going on, Juan kept his thoughts to himself and listened to the men converse and, discussing their plans for the day and the following weeks. The majority of the family is here, except for the hot-tempered beauty, Victoria. His eyes kept wandering to the entrance of the kitchen, hoping and desiring for her to show up. He noticed that Yolanda had come from the kitchen wearing an apron and was scurrying around the dining room, picking up the dirty dishes. He became aware that Yolanda's eyes would occasionally travel in his direction and then would glance toward Roy.
Doña Francisca returned from the kitchen area. "The roof of the schoolhouse is leaking, and the terrible pounding from one of the helpers fixing the roof made it impossible for Victoria and me to teach. We could not hear a thing." She coughed. "We're sending all the children home."
So that's where she is, thought Juan. Soon the gorgeous beauty will be walking in the door. His neck strained to look toward the door in anticipation, while his heart skipped a beat.
In the meantime, Doña Francisca, coughed again, and in her refined manner, turned to Juan and asked him, "How long have you practiced medicine? It is not every day that we have a doctor who comes to the hacienda and visits us. Don Federico said he mentioned to you about the injured girl. We will be eternally grateful while you are staying here if you would be so kind as to check on Soledad."
"No problem. It will be my pleasure," replied, Juan smiling. He stood up and rolled up his sleeves. "I'll need some alcohol, hot water, some clean towels, and soap to scrub and wash my hands and arms. I also need someone's strong hands to assist me."
There were a stir and giggles coming from the kitchen as one of the helpers replied, "He is going to examine la muchacha!" Another spoke, "Lord, I wish he would examine me! I would not mind him touching me! He's so handsome. What a mango!"
Doña Francisca walked into the kitchen as the young girls and women were watching and listening to what Juan was saying. "Goodness, girls!" La Señora interrupted. "Let's get the water boiling. Yolanda! Go and get the big bottle of alcohol, iodine, and chloroform from the storehouse, and Mamá Maria, you will come with me to assist the young doctor," she ordered. Her presence made everyone scramble like cockroaches when the lights came on.
Coming from the soaked, muddy path was Victoria holding her ruffled skirt up to avoid the wet ground. She caught glimpses of Juan outside the kitchen area, with his sleeves up, scrubbing his arms and hands with soap over a porcelain water basin. Juan glanced toward her, straightened himself up, and grabbed a towel to dry his hands and also to catch her attention. Ah! Thought Juan, she is like an angel. A swan when she moves with each step. Her long legs are so beautifully shaped. His eyes, shining and expressive, were fixed on Victoria, pulled like iron to a magnet, while his mouth displayed his normal wolfish smile. "Señorita," he said. "Your legs, are they any better today?" Mockingly, his eyes sized her up. "No broken bones from yesterday's fall?"
Victoria quickly lets go of her skirt, letting it drop to the ground. Her cheeks flushed becomingly and she quickened her steps. "They are fine!" She forced a smile and then looked at the ground, watching her steps, avoiding the potholes filled with water. "Doña Adela's potion worked marvels on them," she replied. She hurried into the kitchen as quickly as possible, almost taking the screen door and all, in a storm of embarrassment. After her mother's lesson in moral behavior and the commitment she had in being wed to Ricardo Calderóne, she mustn't let on how he was beginning to affect her.
She stood and pressed herself against the kitchen wall and closed her eyes. What is it about him that makes me so flustered and so nervous? His glance makes me so very uncomfortable, the way he looks at me, almost undressing me with his lovely eyes. She sighed.
Children ranging in different sizes and ages from six to ten years were coming along after Victoria, having abandoned the leaking schoolhouse. Little Carlos met Fred outside and all scattered to play with the rest of the other children, catching the abundance of croaking frogs that were on the patio and in the courtyards. Some of the other children who were barefooted began playing hide and seek and splashing in the puddles of water; others began chasing Texas lizards, the horned toad.
Outside of the hacienda, the dogs began barking. One of the vaqueros rode his horse fast and entered under the main high arch of the hacienda and yelled, "Someone's coming up the road. We have company!" Other workers fixing the outhouse asked, "Quien son? Who is it?" All looked dumbfounded.
Don Federico and Roy heard the commotion and walked from the patio out to the front of the mansion. They stopped at the edge of the road, close to the entrance gate, and watched the stranger approach. He was riding his horse at a high speed in spite of the muddy road's adverse conditions. The dogs began barking uncontrollably and paced back and forth on the watery path, attracting everyone's attention.
"That's enough!" commanded the Don to J.D. and King and the other dogs. "Get back to the house!" he shouted.
"Oiga!" said the stranger, addressing the two men. "I'm looking for El Meester Ju'son!"
Frowning with an intense curiosity and suspicion, Don Federico replied, "I'm he!"
"I have a note from a gringo who is waiting to talk to you at the crossroads of La Villa road. I also have some of your mail." The stranger paused long enough to settle his snorting horse and opened his vest. Slowly he handed Don Federico a small, white piece of paper and handed him his mail. "I was paid to deliver this message to you, meester." The brown-skinned stranger quickly turned his horse with "Arriba! Ándale!" And headed down the road in the direction he had come.
After reading the note, Don Federico looked at Roy. "It's from Tom White," saying it with intensity and a nervous eagerness in his voice. "Maybe I'll get some answers and get to the bottom of my father's mystery!"
"Dat drunk from Six-Shoot'r Junction," snickered Roy, then laughed so loud that his voice echoed. "Do ya' want me to go with ya', patrón?"
"No! I'd better go by myself. He probably has plenty of personal information regarding my father's death. And besides, Tom White is no drunk, he just pretends to be one. He is doing me a big favor, with pay of course! Do you remember the detective, the one I hired over a year ago?"
"Yep, I vaguely 'member, somethin' like dat," said Roy, "Whut of it?"
"Well! He's the detective. I’m getting to the bottom of my father death."
"No!" Roy stumbled back in the rough rocks in surprise and glanced at Don Federico, then paused, spitting into the weeds. He was flabbergasted that Tom White was a detective and not a drunk.
Within an hour, Don Federico had El Chulo saddled and loaded and trotting south toward the crossroads. There, in the midst of the mesquite and the cactus-ridden muddy ground, was Tom White, sitting on his gray mare. He was dressed in a colorful disguise, a big Stetson hat and Mexican poncho wrapped around him clear up to his eyes, making him look like a fat toad.
"Sorry to have you ride all the way to this clandestine place, but I had no choice. I think that the whole bunch in Harlingen is starting to get suspicious. My job is finished and I need to go back to San Antonio. I did not want anyone to see us talking," he said nervously, and looking spooked.
"I understand!" responded Don Federico, calming his jittery horse. "Have you got the information I need?"
"Plenty," Tom replied. "Your intuition about Hanson was dead on! Shit, I've about become an alcoholic in doing this investigation, but in the long run, it will pay off for you. It's been a good mission and assignment for me and thanks to you for hiring me. What it boils down to is this: the whole deal was blackmailing your father, understand? A set-up inclu
ding bribery and extortion, or however you want to call it! I've heard Hanson laugh several times when your name was brought up, and he bragged with his so-called partners of killing your father for the gold mine and whatever they could get out of him."
He paused again, letting the news sink in. "There's more! Better watch out for rigged papers on your land, where the old witch woman lives. Do you realize that Hanson has had an investigation going on with a corrupt scoundrel, a geologist claiming the possibility of finding oil in the area? Just think, Amigo, black gold, here on your land!"
"Yes! There's talked of oil," Don Federico replied, fretful but not extremely concerned. "Hanson brought up to me about my father signing the gold mine over to him. He mentioned that my father owes him money from gambling! Frankly, I think its bullshit, if you ask me!"
"Oh, man! Oil! Just think!" White was all excited, changing the subject from Hanson back to oil. "It's the upcoming thing," he said. "People in Oklahoma and in the Houston area are becoming wealthy discovering oil. Just think, with the production of the Model-T, the airplane, machinery, and so many things that run on oil." He took a deep breath and changed the subject again. "Speaking of Hanson," he said, "he has more devious ideas! You are supposed to be next! I suggest that you give him that goddamn gold mine. Frankly, it's not worth it. You can get your ass wrung out down there."
"The oil will have to wait, for now. You spoke of blackmail, but with whom?"
"Your father sought affection in any woman's arms and was lured into having an affair with the wife of William Smith, the young Texas Ranger rookie, the skinny dude who patronizes and kisses Hanson's ass. Well! The bitch's name is Della Mae, the redheaded one, with big blue eyes, and heavy breasts."
Roots of Indifferences Page 14