“Well, yes, I think so. I’ve talked to the priest and I’ve, well, I’ve . . . yes, spent time thinking, preparing myself.”
“Bull! I saw how you cursed out Don Febronio today, shaming him in front of his very own sons! I’ve seen how you slip out the backdoor every time Archie comes looking for you. I say you’re a coward to face up to what’s really bothering you, and you’re ripe for the devil’s trickery!”
Salvador’s heart began to pound. Hate and anger stampeded inside his skull.
“No, mi hijito,” she said with tears coming to her eyes, “mark my words, unless you truly make peace inside your immortal soul, and calm all this hateful vengeance that you carry like a cemetery of death inside your heart, then this love you feel for Lupe will not be enough to sustain you even one year.”
“Oh, no, Mama, you’re wrong. You don’t know what happened between me and Archie and Febronio. I got every right to hate ’em.”
“That’s number one,” she said, lifting her right index finger at him, “being right. That’s the first temptation the devil always uses.”
“What?” he said, not understanding.
“Look, mi hijito,” she said, “I don’t need to know what happened between you and these other men, and I don’t care who’s right or who’s wrong. For, believe me, whatever happened, I can guarantee you that it was old and . . . stupid.”
“Well, yes, in some ways, but . . . ”
She raised her hand, silencing him, and she looked deeply into his eyes. “Look, I saw it here, with my own two eyes the day you lost your soul when we were crossing the Rio Grande. My child, who I’d raised with so much love, became hard and unforgiving, lost and unsure, then mean and ready to kill the universe, just as I saw you do again this afternoon when Don Febronio came to wish you well.”
Salvador couldn’t stand it anymore. He came leaping, screaming off his mattress. “But that son-of-a-bitch, Febronio, spit on me, Mama!” he bellowed. “I was down and I went to him like a good friend, asking him for his help as I’d helped him so many times, and he lied to me, saying he had no money! And I know he had money! He keeps an iron box full of it under his house. I tell you, I should’ve killed him today— him and all of his big, strong sons! Killed ’em all, the no-good, son-of-a-bitches! I hate ’em! Our people don’t deserve to live!”
“Oh, I see,” she said, seeing her son’s insane rage. She’d been right. Just touch her son a little bit down deep inside, and the great head of the devil came dancing up, foaming at the mouth. All this love he felt for Lupe was only skin deep. He hadn’t learned a thing from her, even after all these years of training.
“Oh, mi hijito,” said the old woman, “how it hurts me here, in my heart, to see you this way. But, understand me, I do not really care about the poor goat you shot or this man Don Febronio or even his sons. All I care about is you—you, you, my son, my flesh and blood, and this demon of hate you carry inside you here,” she said, touching him on the chest.
“But . . . why shouldn’t I carry this hate, Mama?” he asked. “Febronio and all the other men of our race turned me down. They’re all nothing but a bunch of two-bit bastards! When I was up in Montana with the Greeks, I saw the Greeks organize, Mama, and I saw them stick together like men of honor. But here, I’ve only seen our people turn into little chicken-shit whores like at the rock quarry!” he yelled, tears coming to his eyes. “Then I started playing poker and went from town to town. Everywhere I went, I’d see our people kissing the ass of the gringos, like goddamned dogs! Even when I met Lupe, what did I see? Our people, Mama, they were afraid of a fat-ass foreman that I could kill with one hand tied behind my back!”
“Yes, you’re right, Mama! I do carry hate inside my heart and soul and it’s against our own people, and I’m proud of it! Do you hear me? I’m proud of it! I’m no fool! Our people aren’t worth a dog’s shit compared to the Greeks or gringos!”
And there he stood, dark and short and powerful, looking so very much like the people whom he hated, and the tears streamed down his face in rivers of sorrow.
His old mother saw and took pity on him. She raised up her arms. And, no, he didn’t want to, but finally, he came close to her, knelt down on the floor and put his large lion-manned head on her lap, crying like a baby.
“Oh, mi hijito, mi hijito,” she said, soothing his great head with her hands, “what are we going to do? Don’t you see that this is the devil’s trick, that this is the very same demon that killed Eden for Adam and Eve, the same demon that killed your father . . . the same, the very same demon that’s in all of us, myself included, and that’s why we have to keep strong with God’s faith.” She took a long, big breath, then blew out. “Oh, the devil is upon you, mi hijito, surely as we breathe.”
“No, Mama, you’re wrong. It’s not the devil that’s upon me; it’s truth that’s upon me, the God-awful truth of our people that I’ve witnessed here in this country, and I’m not going to fool myself and deny it. Our gente are no good, Mama, and that’s that.”
“I see, I see,” she said. “All right, then, give me your hand, and step back, and look at me.”
He did as told. “You see my face, you see my old, dark skin? Eh, you see me, really see me? Well I, too, am one of these mejicanos that you hate so much, mi hijito.”
He shook his head. “Oh, no, Mama, you’re not. You’re different.”
“Oh, and just how am I different? You tell me. I’m dark, I’m short, I’m mostly Indian, and I don’t give money to anyone outside of my own family, so I probably would’ve turned you down, too. So you tell me, how am I different?”
“Well, you’re my, well, my mother,” he said.
The howl, the screaming howl of laughter that she let out, took Salvador by surprise. “Oh, that’s wonderful!” she yelled, howling all the more. “Wonderful! Your mother, eh? Being your mother, that’s the only thing that saves me from your damnations, eh?”
“Well, no, I didn’t mean that. I meant, well, that I love you, Mama.”
“But your mother is Mexican, so how can you love her, mi hijito! Eh, look at me, don’t look away, and realize down deep inside your soul what it is that you’re saying, and know that I’m exactly what it is that you hate.”
“No, Mama!” he yelled. “You’re not!”
“Yes, I am, mi hijito,” she said. “I’m the very same woman that your father loved and married and I’m also the very same woman that he hated and cursed when he got mad.”
Salvador closed his eyes. “No,” he whispered, “no.”
“Yes,” she said, “yes.” She could see that she was finally beginning to reach him. He was finally beginning to open his eyes and see what it was that he was really saying.
“Mi hijito,” she said, taking his hand and stroking it gently, “listen to me closely and I’ll tell you a secret, a very special secret that I just learned the other day.”
Immediately, Salvador drew close. He just couldn’t help himself. Ever since he could remember, he’d always loved his mother’s secrets. They were such an adventure.
“You see,” she said, “the other day at church, the Virgin Mary came down from her statue and we were gossiping, you know, like we usually do, joking and having a good time, when she suddenly got down to the nitty-gritty. She told me to keep on my toes, for the devil was in the area and he was up to no good; in fact, he was out to destroy a great plan that God had been working on for a long time.
“Well, of course, I quickly looked around at my own household, and at first I thought it had nothing to do with you because you’re in love and getting married and so I figured that it was Luisa’s soul, or, maybe, even Domingo’s. But then today, when I saw you get so mad at a man who’d come to wish you well, and I saw all this hate come exploding out of you like it used to do with your own father, then I knew that it was you that the devil, in his great wickedness, wanted to bring to ruin.
“Oh, I saw it so clearly, mi hijito. If the devil could get you to hate your brother
mejicanos, then one day he could get you to hate this woman that you now love and, eventually, he could even get you to hate your own children, too.”
Salvador rocked back, staring at his mother in utter shock. “No,” he said. “No, no, no, Mama, you’re wrong! I love Lupe, and my children are going to be wonderful! I’ll never hate them! Never! Never! I swear it with all my heart!”
“Oh,” said his mother, coming in close, “and if one day your children aren’t so wonderful, or you’re just a little too tired to care, or some of them happen to be dark and short like most mejicanos, then what will you do? Will you do like your father did to his? Will you only have patience for the ones who are tall and fair and look more like these gringos that you admire so much? Or, will you do the opposite, which is just as bad, and start hating gringos and your own fair-skinned children?”
“Mama, stop it!” said Salvador, gripping his head. “You’re just playing with me!”
“Oh, and isn’t the devil playing with you, too? Well, I’d rather play with you now and have it hurt you a million times more while you are childless, than have you marry and bring children into this world that you are going to hate! And YOU WILL HATE THEM, believe me!” she screamed. “For the seed of the devil is implanted inside your SOUL, right now! And this is the disgrace. You hear me? The DISGRACE of our people ever since the Spaniard came to our soil: self-hatred! And it must stop, mi hijito; it must stop right now! For this is God’s great plan, that people rise up beyond their personal hatreds, here, right now, in this new land where so many different people with so many different bloods have come to join together and that we recognize we are all the children of God! Every one of us!
“And you, mi hijito, and your wife could lead the way! For you are of the blood of the people who were here since time began! Don’t you see, you are the key, the SECRET! And this is your chance of greatness, just like it was for your grandfather, Don Pío, back in Mexico. An opportunity for you to be a man of vision! A man of great spiritual cunning and strength so you can get above your personal disappointments and see the good in your own people and make peace here within yourself and cast out the devil! This was the power of Don Pío. He didn’t give up on Mexico or his men who’d turned bad or weak. No, he kept his heart open to them with love and compassion and he took them north with him to build a city high in the mountains where their children could grow strong and free.
“And they, too, were mejicanos, people of mixed blood, and their dream was to create a whole new way of life, where no man would enslave another for all eternity! This was his dream! His quest! And he was dark! Short! ¡Puro mejicano de las Américas! And wonderful! Do you hear me? Wonderful!”
“But, Mama, please, I didn’t mean to insult him,” said Salvador.
“Shut up! For you are the seed on the brink of eternal prejudice! You are the messenger of the devil! You are, at this very moment, all the bad things that Don Pío fought so hard to overcome!”
“No, Mama, please! Don’t say this to me,” he begged.
“Yes, yes, yes! I say it to you! I scream it to you! I slap it to you in the face!” she said, hitting him. “You are evil! Here, inside! Because you’re smart and strong and capable of doing the sacred good! But you’ve chosen to be lazy and to do the blasphemous bad! And you, you were the last one to come from my loins! My miracle from God given to me in my old age! And so I named you Salvador, the savior, in hopes of you becoming, indeed, the savior of our family, where there was already so much hate between father and son, brother and brother. I raised you special with all the knowledge from the mistakes that I’d made with my other children . . . and now you’re willing to take the easy route of hate and prejudice?
“My God, don’t you see that here in this land, where we see so much power and accomplishment done by the tall, fair-skinned gringo, that we’re more vulnerable than ever! I tell you, this hate has got to stop right now! Here! Inside your soul! And you’ve got to grab hold of your tanates and grow bigger than your personal disappointments, or the devil has won before you even begin!”
Tears ran down Salvador’s face as he rolled his head from side to side, staring at his dear old mother in awe. Oh, she truly was a terror. She could rise up with such conviction of mind and soul that she could move the heavens themselves. No wonder God sent down the Virgin Mary to speak with her so often, they were all terrified of his old mother up in heaven and had to use a woman to try and talk to her and calm her fury.
Salvador stood up. “Mama,” he said, “excuse me, but I got to go and pee real bad.”
“Good, I’m glad I scared you this much,” she laughed. “Go, and I’ll put on the coffee and serve us each a whiskito. For I am not done! This is only the beginning!”
Salvador rolled his eyes to the heavens, then kissed her and hurried outside. He went to the avocado tree, unbuttoned his pants, and began to piss, looking up at the stars and moon. Oh, his mother was really something, and yes, he could see that she was right but, yet, well, he still hated Archie and Febronio. Maybe he just wasn’t the man that his grandfather had been. Maybe he just had too much “Villaseñor blood” in his veins and he’d never be able to get beyond his personal hatred.
Finishing up, he buttoned his pants and watched the moon go behind some little clouds. He breathed deeply and looked out at the vastness of the star-studded heavens. Oh, he just didn’t know what to do. With a heavy heart, he turned and went back inside. He found his mother warming herself by the little wood-burning stove.
“Well, Mama,” he said, coming up and accepting the cup of whiskey that she offered him, “you’re right . . . absolutely right. I see your point. And I understand it here, inside my head, but, well, you tell me, how am I to deny this hate that I still feel here, inside my heart and soul? Do I lie to myself? Do I hide from the truth?”
She didn’t bother to even look at him. She just picked up her whiskito and began sipping it. “All right, that’s a good question,” she said. “A very good question. How do you accomplish this miracle of the heart that your father was never able to do? How do you change this tragedy of vision that kept your father blind to some of the best of his own flesh and blood?
“Oh, I’ll never forget how your brother, José, when he was little, he’d follow your father around, worshipping the ground he walked on, loving him so much, but then he could never understand why your father was always so impatient with him.” Tears came to her eyes. “It was terrible. It made me want to die inside. But what could I do? There was no talking to your father. And so one day in a typical rage your father drove José from our home because José had accidentally proved that he was a better horseman than your father. And José was still a boy, only fifteen years old, and he hadn’t meant any disrespect.
“Oh, from that day on, your poor father lived blind, blind, I tell you, with the devil in his soul, and he died a tragic death, thinking that he’d failed, that he had no sons, when, in fact, his seed went on and did well. And you, mi hijito, are his seed. You are his second chance. And so, no, you mustn’t lie to yourself or hide from the truth. No, you must open your eyes bigger and bigger, and see a larger truth. See further than your personal disappointments with our people. And grow, grow, reaching for the stars like Don Pío did when he first went to Los Altos de Jalisco with his two brothers.”
Salvador’s heart began to pound, to pound with each word his old mother spoke.
“You must pray for God Almighty’s help, gain faith, and realize that the devil is the force that divides mankind with hate, confusion and darkness. And God, on the other hand, is the power, the light, that unites us with love, with the vision of what’s the best in all of us. You must gain faith in the basic good of mankind and reach out and take the hand of God. Take it with all your power, like Don Pío did on El Cerro Grande in Los Altos de Jalisco, and realize down deep inside that this was the strength of your grandfather, and this is the strength of any man or woman of vision; to dream, to raise up, and to give honor to God’s ligh
t!
“Not to fall to the devil’s temptation of despair and darkness and these easy thoughts of hate and destruction, but to see beyond these and reach for the stars with the conviction of mind and soul that we, the human species, can only survive in our own house, when we have made peace within ourselves and then with all our fellow human beings on earth! This is God’s great plan that He has been working on for centuries! And now is the time, the hour, that we, the people, must raise up and go forth, hand in hand, in God’s love. And you must do your part, mi hijito, for you are the blood of my blood, the flesh of my flesh, and I raised you with love.., you hear me? LOVE! LOVE! LOVE!”
She stopped, and they looked at each other and Salvador could see that his mother was glowing, her whole person was on fire. Why, she was illuminating, and he could see the years strip away from her and, miraculously, she was young once more and very beautiful.
“Oh, Mama,” said Salvador, getting to his knees, “I love you so much, I really do. Truly, I do want a better life for all of our people here in this country or back in Mexico but, being completely honest, I’m still mad, Mama. I’m still mad as hell with Archie and Febronio.”
Throwing her head back, Doña Margarita let out a great laugh. “Mad? Well, no one said you can’t be mad, mi hijito. Mad is good. Be good and mad and go talk to Archie and talk to Febronio, too, and work things out with them, if you can. That’s why God gave us the word; the word was our first step out of darkness. The word is our sword to fight off evil. So go and talk and be mad, but. . . . ” she added, raising her right index finger, “ . . . what I don’t want, is for you to carry hate. Because hate kills, hate destroys, hate is the instrument of evil. Do you hear me? Ever since the beginning of time, it’s been hate that’s brought ruin to mankind.”
“But I can be mad?”
“Sure. Why not? Mad opens doors; mad creates. Look, I was mad at you. That’s why I called you in so we could talk.”
Rain of Gold Page 76