Roots of Indifferences

by Terri Ragsdale

  Victoria stood by the door, angered by the orders given, and replied, "I'll try to make myself presentable as best I can, especially to your family."

  Ricardo smiled, then gave her a kiss on the cheek and disappeared down the corridors.

  Victoria stood numb inside her cottage thinking, what terrible injustices are occurring here in Mexico! I feel so sorry for the old Indian worker and his struggling people! Why did Ricardo beat him the way he did? She was more convinced about what Juan had told her, time and time again about the difference in the two classes of people. The rich got richer, and the poor were damned. She had been with Ricardo and his family for three days and was already getting nostalgic for the Hinojosa's hacienda. She felt a strong commitment to her parents and grandparents, and she was already homesick to see Felicia and to tell her everything that had happened.

  CHAPTER 17

  Victoria had spent three days with the Del Calderóne family, and while on her way back to her grandparent's hacienda, she was recalling the long memorable days. Her head was resting comfortably on the cushioned window of the horse-drawn coach, viewing the passing countryside. She was aware of an increasing anxiety to see her parents, grandparents, and Felicia. She had been wined and dined and entertained like a European queen enjoying all the luxuries and comforts that any human being would cherish, and yet all the money in the world could not take away her empty feeling. She still felt uncomfortable with the Del Calderónes and wondered how much of his nature Ricardo had inherited from El General. She felt she could get to like Ricardo if he weren't so arrogant and dependent upon the luxuries, which were so important to him, as if those things made him a real man; however, he had been raised in that style of living and could not be changed.

  She remembered early this morning, El General laughing derisively while departing for the bordering state of Chihuahua, saying that he had received word that many of the Federalist troops had been killed, including many of the Guerrilleros who had started the Revolution. She must tell her father this news. He would be interested since he was empathetic with Madero and his cohorts. El General had laughed out loud, telling his guests at breakfast how the bandido, Pascual Orozco, had stripped the dead Federalist soldiers' clothes and mailed them to President Díaz. The President replied that the uniforms were only the wrappers, and for Orozco to send him more tamales. Everyone in the dining room roared with laughter, including Ricardo, who had also made a sarcastic remark.

  From the news dispensed by El General and the comments he made, it seemed the northern border states were already aflame with war. The poor Mestizos, with their vast knowledge of the land, were also taking up arms, willing to strap on cartridge belts and become an unnamed army without uniforms. The name of Francisco Madero was becoming a thorn in the side of the Federalist troops and President Díaz.

  The driver of the coach slowed down guiding the horses to the right of the dirt road out of respect. Several Indian men passed by carrying a small pink coffin, while all the women were dressed in black, crying and fingering their rosaries. As they shuffled by, Victoria overheard one of the women remarking that the little girl was so much better off now, what with the predictions of impending disaster in Mexico.

  An hour had passed when the driver came to a stop again to let another group of several Indians in white muslin clothing file by on the narrow road. They were carrying large, heavy loads of hay and wood on their backs. With them were ten goats, one with a loud bell hung around its neck, which reminded Victoria of Blanca, back in Spanish Acres. This procession was followed by many burros loaded with barrels of water. Several women walked along the road hauling water jugs on top of their rebozo-covered heads. Below the road in a small creek, she viewed Indian women pounding their laundry on the surface of the rocks.

  *****

  It was getting close to the noon hour when they finally reached the Hinojosa's hacienda. The sun was high, but in the shadows, there was a cold and bitter chill. This was still January, but soon the green leaves would sprout again from every direction, continuing the cycle of life.

  Like wine to Victoria's spirit, the whole family was outside to warmly greet her. Victoria thanked the driver and began hugging everyone, while her baggage was being taken upstairs by the servants.

  Wide-eyed with glee, Felicia joined Victoria, and they both hurried upstairs hugging and giggling. Felicia kept looking both ways, talking louder and asking questions, which was very uncommon to her personality. Occasionally she would look behind her, checking if anyone was listening. "Ricardo is so handsome. Do you like him, Victoria? Did you have a good time? What do you think of him?" In all the excitement, her questions were like rapid firing bullets, which made Victoria wonder.

  When they turned the corner, toward the long halls, Victoria noticed on Felicia's face a tension that could not be missed. They reached their room, and Victoria fell backward on the bed, with her hair sprawling on the pink satin bedspread. She was so happy to see Felicia. "I have so much to tell you—so much has happened!"

  "You have no idea what has happened since you left," interrupted Felicia, out of breath as she closed the door and stood eying Victoria like an intellectual force keeping a secret.

  "What could have possibly happened?" replied Victoria, turning to face Felicia, and sighing with exhaustion. She was not interested in small talk.

  "Ricardo is handsome—but so is Juan!" she whispered. "He was here, yesterday afternoon!"

  "Who was here?" questioned Victoria, shocked.

  "Juan!" Felicia put one finger to her lips. "I'm telling you, he was here yesterday."

  "Juan! Here!" Victoria uttered, almost speechless. Like a mechanical doll, she quickly straightened herself up on the bed. Her hazel eyes were like two candles that had been lit. "No way," she said, doubting. "What happened? Tell me, quickly! My God! Juan? Here?"

  "I had decided to go riding yesterday afternoon—"

  "And—"

  "—out into the orchards, and I had stopped and gotten off my horse to let him drink from the creek when I noticed someone was behind me. I was scared, of course, because of the incident when the peón grabbed my leg—"

  "Tell me!" pleaded Victoria, impatient with Felicia's detailed account.

  "I turned around when two arms took hold of me from behind. I almost screamed, but he put his hand over my mouth. I struggled, but, as I turned quickly around, of all people—and speaking of the devil—it was Juan! He was looking right into my eyes. My heart was pounding, and I almost melted as I stared back at him. He must have thought that I was you." Felicia could not speak without her hands and had them flying in every direction. "Anyway, he wanted to know where you were staying at this time. I told him you were visiting a family several miles away at another hacienda and were coming back tomorrow. But anyway, he also wanted to talk with your father, about the gold mine, and explain what happened, and anyway—"

  "Oh, stop with the anyways and get on with the story!" retorted Victoria, thinking that her cousin had the sense God gave a goose.

  "I felt so sorry for Juan. As we walked towards the hacienda, he told me that hour after he had given the money to the bandido Castillo, he had been ambushed. He received a big gash on the side of his face, with black and blue marks on his forehead, and had been left for dead. Peasants found him lying on the road and took care of him. It took several weeks, almost a month before he recovered."

  "I knew something like that had happened!" Victoria smiled triumphantly. "I knew something terrible had happened to him. I knew Juan wouldn't have put Papá in harm's way. I knew he'd have some kind of an explanation."

  "Yes, yes, but that's not all of it," Felicia nervously continued. "When your father and grandfather saw Juan approaching the hacienda, your grandfather demanded that he get off his property. Your father told him to leave as well. Your grandfather called Juan trash and that he was also a bandido, just like the rest that had been hired to kill your father. I've never seen your grandfather so angry! He pulled out a rev
olver and told him to get out or he would shoot him like a dog."

  She paused and looked at Victoria sympathetically. "Poor Juan! He tried to explain to your father what had happened, but your father told him to leave, and that he didn't want to talk about the mine anymore. Your father said he was finished with the gold mine, and that he didn't believe a word Juan said. Juan kept backing off while trying to speak with your father, and all the time your grandfather was pointing the gun at him. Juan spoke about you, about how much he loved you, and how he wanted to marry you. Your father and grandfather both laughed in his face. Your father told him about Ricardo Del Calderóne, your future marriage to him, and how special you were, you being his only daughter, and that he wanted the very best for you. He said you were marrying the best, with money and power, and he, Juan, did not have a pot to pee in."

  "Father said that!" gasped Victoria. She held her right hand to her forehead and went silent for a few moments. "Dear God! I can't believe this is happening!" Then both hands covered her face and she murmured between her fingers, falling to pieces emotionally. "Juan will not want to see me anymore. It's all ruined! It's all over! It's finished! I can't believe this! Oh! Dear God!" She began crying hysterically.

  "No, no!" insisted Felicia. "You have it all wrong. Juan does love you and told your father that he was going to have you regardless of what anyone said. That was when your father pointed his own gun at Juan's chest and told him to leave immediately or he would shoot him like a common thief."

  After saying those words, Felicia checked the long halls to see if anyone was around or was listening and came back and closed the door again. "I'm telling you that Juan will be here, tonight! He told me to tell you. He wants to see you and talk with you. He wants you to meet him at the entrance of the hacienda. This is so romantic!" she said. "Tonight," she said, excitement dancing in her eyes, "this very night!"

  "Tonight!" answered Victoria.

  "Tonight, at the entrance of the gates, Juan will be there. He will be waiting for you!"

  "How are we going to work it? How are we going to see Juan?"

  "We?" answered Felicia, puzzled. "We, it's always 'we.' 'We' are going to get into trouble, especially if the family finds out. Trouble, that's what you mean, if 'we' get caught."

  "Felicia, you have got to help me! I have got to see him!" Victoria pouted, with misty eyes and directed her gaze to the floor. Her mind was working overtime. She wanted sympathy from her cousin as she poured out her thoughts. “I have always helped you when you needed it, and you have got to help me tonight! If I don't see him, I probably will never see him again!"

  "All right, what do you want me to do?" uttered Felicia, helpless.

  "You can go with me and keep guard," replied Victoria, feeling the tide turning her way. "If we wear our black capes and in the dark, no one will see us."

  "Remember, you talked me into it. Remember!"

  *****

  As the nighttime drew near, purple shadows slowly fell across the breathless hush of the enormous hacienda. They waited until the household retired to their quarters for the night. The two girls crept quietly down the side steps of the mansion and glanced both ways. Victoria took the lead as they made their way toward the front gate path to the edge of the flowering bushes and pinos orchards. A cold night breeze had risen, and in the distance, they could see the heavy, thick fog on the slopes of the dark purple mountains. They stood together, like they always had since childhood, not knowing what would happen or what steps to follow next. The moon kept peeking from behind dark, stormy clouds as the wind became chilly, unpredictable, and uncomfortable.

  From behind one of the working quarters, the same peón who had been whipped for grabbing Felicia's leg, noticed a movement among the bushes and pinos trees. Eyeing the figures with keen intensity, he realized it was the two Tejanas girls—el patrón, Señor Hinojosa's relatives—and his hatred flared. His wounds were not completely healed, and his anger overtook all emotions. He decided it was time to get even. He stalked the two girls, glaring at them with an unbridled vengeance. He had been drinking hard Mexican mescal and had been ordered, early during the evening, to take his turn keeping guard on the hacienda's grounds. He huddled patiently beneath the bushes, watching to see where the two girls were going in the late hours of the night. His lustful passion was enhanced with liquor, developing into a magnitude of bravery, and he was determined to get his revenge.

  Victoria motioned to Felicia and pointed toward the sky to wait until the moon had gone behind the hovering, black clouds, making it easier to move forward without causing suspicion. The outdoors at night, inside the Hinojosa’s estate, was perilous since there were many guards who stayed awake into the late night and were not to be trusted. In the distance they could see the lights of the city far below, glowing and glittering, becoming shrouded in the oncoming fog.

  The two girls followed the path through the edge of the pinos taking them closer to the iron-gated fence. The wind numbed their senses, and they tucked their heads inside their dark, woolen capes. They could hear the crisp sounds of their footsteps gently stepping on the dry leaves in the chilled air. Watching cautiously in all directions, the two girls hurried toward the entrance. When they finally reached the high, stone walls and approached the heavy iron gates, Victoria said in a low whisper to Felicia, "Stay here while I open the gates and see if Juan is out there—somewhere." As she unfastened the iron latch and pulled it upward, the old gate creaked and clang as she slowly opened it, complaining about a screeching sound that could be heard several yards away.

  "I'm afraid," said Felicia, "and I'm cold." She said it in a soft whisper to herself as her voice was lost in the strong wind and the jamming of the iron gates. She saw her impatient cousin's silhouette disappear onto the dark road outside of the stone walls. She pulled her cape and her hood closely around her body and head, and then sat quietly alone near the gates. She wished now that she hadn't mentioned "Juan," for his name had become notoriously dangerous. She was nervous and scared out of her wits. And worse, if her mother found out about this escapade, she would never hear the end of it! Oh, the punishment!

  Victoria, with nerves of steel, nudged her cape around her as the night-chilled air was becoming very cold, cutting deep into her bones. She walked out into the middle of the dark, dirt road, taking a risky chance. If anyone was out there in the dark, they would see her.

  There were only sounds of the current of air among the trees and the strong, cold breeze that hovered around Victoria's head. The wind suddenly flipped her cape as it blew past her on its way through the jungle of wild bushes and wild pinos along the lonely road. Suddenly, she heard footsteps.

  From behind her, a hand reached toward her mouth and one arm grabbed her in an instant, pulling her toward the edge of the road and into the bushes. Victoria shuddered from the shock and numbness, wanting to fight. Everything was happening very fast, as she was being lifted and dragged into the wilderness, her shoes not touching the ground. She felt the warm breath on the back of her neck, as the individual was holding on to her with a strong grip and then laying her down on the cold surface of dry leaves.

  "Victoria, it's Juan!"

  He was disguised in a peón outfit, a dark serape, and a large straw sombrero. Underneath he wore the loose, white cotton muslins like the peóns wore. His eyes glowed in the dark with joy as he pinned her to the earth and kissed her until her breath was almost gone. His body thrilled with desire. Their love was so strong that in this sacred emotional moment, Victoria felt like there was no winter, no frigid wind, no sorrows, no worries, only warmth, and joy.

  "You frightened me for a moment," gasped Victoria, trying to recover from the abrupt surprise, her hands held to her chest. "I should have known that you would pull a trick like this." Panting for air, and with her heart pounding in her chest, she tried to straighten herself from the cold ground.

  "I didn't want you to scream, Querida," he whispered, "and cause an alarm in your grandfather's hou
sehold. I've been here waiting for you for hours, not knowing whether you'd show up and meet me. Your father will have me a shot and killed if he knew I was out here waiting for you."

  "I know! I've heard all about it from Felicia," replied Victoria, still shaken up. She clutched her cape, which had come away loose from her body. She sat up and let her hood down from her head.

  "You have no idea how much I have waited for this moment." Juan, sitting beside her, moved closer and kissed her again very passionately. His magnetism was so powerful that no one would be able to resist. His arms tightened around her and drew her closer to him and down to the ground in a breathless kiss. He whispered in her ear. "Victoria, will you come with me?"

  Victoria's admiration for Juan had become boundless. She sat up and pulled herself away, looking into his eyes, as if viewing the surface of the apple-green sea. She remained quiet and then spoke softly, "And where would we go?"

  "Go with me! I'm going to the state of Chihuahua and fight with Pancho Villa. This is what I wanted to tell you so that you would know. Come with me! We can make a good life together."

  "This is not the time to elope," suggested Victoria rationally. "I start school next week and will be there for the next two years, getting an education, which will please my family very much. I don't think this is the right time to discuss our future. I need that education, especially after what I have seen and heard here in Mexico and in Texas."

  "More than me?" he said indignantly and then softened his voice. "I understand," he said, almost apologetic. "I see, I understand. I'm sorry I'm imposing myself on you. I should have known better," he continued. "Is it because I'm not wealthy, as your future husband is, or is it because my family doesn't have power or prestige? Your father and grandfather made sure I knew that—they made me feel like a common peón." His head hung down in shame. "Someday, I promise you, I'll be rich and wealthy, coming with prestige. It seems that without money, a person is nobody. Someday I'll have everything in the world I want—"