Bless Me, Ultima

by Rudolfo Anaya

  Maxie got up cleaning himself. The donkey toppled over. “¡Jodido!” He cursed Lloyd and shoved him. Lloyd fell over his cow.

  “You could be sued for that,” he threatened from the floor.

  “Boys! Boys!” Miss Violet called excitedly from the dark.

  I felt Horse’s head tossing at the excitement. I clamped my arm down to hold him, and he bit my hand.

  “¡Ay!”

  “And there in a manger, they found the babe—” Red turned and nodded for me to speak.

  “I am Joseph!” I said as loud as I could, trying to ignore the sting of the horse bite, “and this is the baby’s mother—”

  “Damn you!” Horse cursed when I said that. He jumped up and let me have a hard fist in the face.

  “It’s Horse!” the audience squealed. He had dropped his veil, and he stood there trembling, like a trapped animal.

  “Horse the virgin!” Bones called.

  “Boys, Bowoooo-oizz!” Miss Violet pleaded.

  “—AndthethreekingsbroughtgiftstotheChristchild—” Red was reading very fast to try to get through the play, because everything was really falling apart on stage.

  The audience wasn’t helping either, because they kept shouting, “Is that you, Horse?” or “Is that you, Tony?”

  The Kid stepped up with the first gift. “I bring, I bring—” He looked at his script but he couldn’t read.

  “Incense,” I whispered.

  “¿Qué?”

  “Incense,” I repeated. Miss Violet had rearranged Horse’s robe and pushed him back to kneel by me. My eyes were watering from his blow.

  “In-sense,” the Kid said and he threw the crayon box we were using for incense right into the manger and busted the doll’s head again. The round head just rolled out into the center of the stage near where Red stood and he looked down at it with a puzzled expression on his face.

  Then the Kid stepped back and slipped on Abel’s pee. He tried to get up and run, but that only made it worse. He kept slipping and getting up, and slipping and getting up, and all the while the audience had gone wild with laughter and hysteria.

  “Andthesecondwisemanbroughtmyrrh!” Red shouted above the din.

  “Meerrrr, merrrrda, ¡mierda!” Bones cried like a monkey.

  “I bring myra,” Samuel said.

  “Myra!” someone in the audience shouted, and all the fifth graders turned to look at a girl named Myra. All of the boys said she sat on her wall at home after school and showed her panties to those that wanted to see.

  “Hey, Horse!”

  “¡Chingada!” the Horse said, working his teeth nervously. He stood up and I pushed and he knelt again.

  The Kid was holding on to Abel, trying to regain his footing, and Abel just stood very straight and said, “I had to.”

  “And the third wise man brought gold!” Red shouted triumphantly. We were nearing the end.

  Florence stepped forward, bowed low and handed an empty cigar box to Horse. “For the virgin,” he grinned.

  “¡Cabrón!” The Horse jumped up and shoved Florence across the stage, and at the same time a blood-curdling scream filled the air and Bones came sailing through the air and landed on Horse.

  “For the verrrrrr-gin!” Bones cried.

  Florence must have hit the light bulb as he went back because there was a pop and darkness as the light of the east went out.

  “—And that’s how it was on the first Christmas!” I heard brave Red call out above the confusion and free-for-all on stage and the howling of the audience. And the bell rang and everybody ran out shouting, “Merry Christmas!” “Merry Christmas!” “¡Chingada!”

  In a very few moments the auditorium was quiet. Only Red and I and Miss Violet remained on the stage. My ears were ringing, like when I stood under the railroad bridge while a train went by overhead. For the first time since we came in it was quiet in the auditorium. Overhead the wind began to blow. The blizzard had not died out.

  “What a play,” Miss Violet laughed, “my Lord what a play!” She sat on a crate in the middle of the jumbled mess and laughed. Then she looked up at the empty beam and called, “Bones, come down!” Her voice echoed in the lonely auditorium. Red and I stood quietly by her.

  “Shall we start putting the things away?” Red finally asked. Miss Violet looked up at us and nodded and smiled. We straightened up the stage as best we could. While we worked we felt the wind of the blizzard increase, and overhead the skylight of the auditorium grew dark with snow.

  “I think that’s about all we can do,” Miss Violet said. “The storm seems to be getting worse—”

  We put on our jackets, closed the auditorium door and walked down the big, empty hall. The janitor must have turned off the furnace, because there was no noise.

  “This place is like a tomb,” Miss Violet shivered.

  It was like a tomb; without the kids the schoolhouse was a giant, quiet tomb with the moaning wind crying around its edges. It was strange how everything had been so full of life and funny and in a way sad, and now everything was quiet. Our footsteps echoed in the hall.

  I didn’t know how bad it was snowing until we reached the door. We looked out and saw a gray sheet of snow. It was falling so thick we could hardly see the street at the far end of the schoolground.

  “I’ve never seen snow like this,” Red remarked. “It looks dark—”

  It was true, the snow looked dark.

  “Will you be able to get home all right, Tony?” Miss Violet asked. She was putting on her gloves.

  “Yes,” I replied. “You?”

  She smiled. “Red will walk with me,” she said. Red lived down by the Methodist church and Miss Violet lived just beyond, so they could walk together. Miss Violet was not married and I knew she lived with her mother in a house that had a high brick wall around it.

  “Merry Christmas, Tony.” She bent down and kissed my cheek. “Take care of yourself—”

  “See you, Tony,” Red called. I saw them lean and walk into the darkness of the storm.

  “Merry Christmas!” I called after them, and in just seconds the two figures disappeared. The snow was so thick that it blurred my sight. I zipped my jacket and pulled it tight around me. I did not want to leave the alcove of the doorway. I did not want to struggle into the storm. I thought of home and my mother and Ultima, and I longed to be there in the warmth. It was not that I was afraid of the storm, I had seen the winter storms of the llano and I knew that if I was careful I would arrive home safely. I guess it was just the darkness of it that made me hesitate. I don’t know how long I stood there thinking.

  Finally a cold shiver shook me from my thoughts. I leaned into the cold wind and ran towards the street. Once on Main I made my way along the protective sides of the buildings. All of the stores were brightly lighted, but there were few people in the streets. When people did come into view it seemed they were upon me suddenly, then they stumbled on and were lost in the wind-swept snow. Cars moved slowly up and down the street. It was hard to believe that it was only three in the afternoon; it seemed rather like the midnight of a long, dark night.

  I turned at Allen’s Market and the blast of wind struck me in the face. There was no protection here. I thought of going into the store, but I remembered that Andrew hadn’t come to work. He was probably home, sleeping safe and warm.

  I buried my head in my jacket and edged my way down the sides of the buildings. I was moving carefully, so as not to slip on the ice, when I passed the doors of the Longhorn Saloon. Suddenly the door of the bar crashed open and two giant figures came hurtling out. They bumped against me as they tumbled into the street, and sent me reeling against the wall. From there I watched the most savage fight I had ever seen.

  “¡Te voy a matar, cabrón!” one of the men screamed, and I recognized the evil voice of Tenorio. My blood ran cold.

  They tumbled into the snow like two drunken bears, kicking and striking at each other, and their cries and curses filled the air.

&nbs
p; “¡Jodido!” the heavier man grunted. It was Narciso!

  When I recognized Tenorio my first impulse was to run, but now I could not move. I remained frozen against the wall, watching the fearful scene.

  “¡Hijo de tu chingada—!”

  “¡Pinche—!”

  Blood from their battered faces stained the snow. They dropped to their knees clawing for each other’s throats. It was only the bartender and the two men who followed him into the street that prevented them from killing each other.

  “¡Basta! ¡Basta!” the bartender shouted. He grabbed Narciso and tried to pull him off Tenorio. One of the men helped him while the third one got in front of Tenorio and pushed him back.

  “¡Por la madre de Dios!” they pleaded.

  “I am going to kill that bastard!” Tenorio screamed.

  “You do not have the huevos!” Narciso shouted back. “You are only good for raising putas—”

  “¡Ay maldecido!” Tenorio grunted and hurled himself at Narciso. The two came together again, like two rams locking horns, and the bartender and the other two men had to pull with all their strength to pry them loose.

  “¡Cabrón! Cuckold of the devil himself, who slept in your bed and left your wife fat with brujas for daughters!” Narciso taunted, and even as the men struggled to separate them his huge arms flew out and landed with dull, sick thuds on Tenorio’s face and body.

  “No more! No more!” the bartender cried as the three men struggled and grunted to hold the two apart. Finally Tenorio pulled away. His face was dripping with sweat and blood. He had had enough. I thought I would vomit and I wanted to run away, but the frightful scene held me spellbound.

  “¡Borracho! ¡Puto!” Tenorio called from his safer distance. When he backed away I thought he would see me leaning against the wall, but the snow was thick and his attention was focused on Narciso.

  “Old woman with a hot tail for gossip!” Narciso retorted. Both men stood trembling with rage, but they would not clash again. I think they both realized that a second encounter would mean death to one of them. The three men did not have to hold them anymore.

  “It is not gossip that another of my daughters is sick!” Tenorio shouted, “and she too will die, like the first one! And it is because of the old witch Ultima from Las Pasturas—”

  It isn’t true I wanted to shout, but my voice stifled in my throat. The wind snapped around us and flung our words away.

  “It was your daughters who started the evil!” Narciso retorted, “and if you seek to do evil to la Grande I will cut your heart out!”

  “We shall see!” Tenorio sneered and backed away with a parting threatening gesture. “I shall find a way to get to the bruja, and if you get in my way I will kill you!” He stumbled across the wind-swept street to his truck.

  “¡Ay que diablo!” Narciso cursed, “he is up to no good!” The other men shrugged and shivered in the cold.

  “Ah! Only words. Forget this bad thing before it gets you in trouble with the sheriff. Come and have a drink—” They were relieved the fight was over, and wet and shivering they moved back into the bar.

  “That devil is up to evil, I must warn la Grande!” Narciso muttered.

  “It is nothing!” the bartender called from the door. “Come in before you freeze out there! I’ll buy you a drink!”

  Narciso waved them off and the door closed. He stood and watched Tenorio’s truck pull away and disappear in the blinding snow. “I must warn la Grande,” Narciso repeated, “but in this storm I cannot go to Márez!”

  I was trembling from fright, but now the nausea left me. I was covered with snow and wet, but my face and forehead felt hot. Like Narciso, I was now concerned with Ultima’s safety. I thought that no man in his right mind would take on Narciso’s brute strength, but Tenorio had and so he must be desperate because of what was happening to his daughter. I was about to approach Narciso to tell him I was going home and would warn Ultima, but he stumbled off into the snow and I heard him mumble, “I will go to Andrew!”

  I thought Andrew was at home but Narciso set off down the street, in the direction of the river. If Andrew was in town, he would be at Allen’s store or at the Eight Ball shooting pool. Concerned for Ultima’s safety and feverish with the cold, I struggled to keep up with him because in the thick snow a person quickly disappeared from sight. I followed the stumbling figure ahead of me, and between the blasts of wind I could hear him talk to himself about Tenorio’s threat and how he would warn Andrew.

  He turned on the church road and went towards the bridge, and I believed that his intentions were to go to my father’s house anyway, but when he came to Rosie’s house he paused at the snow-laden gate of the picket fence.

  A single red light bulb shone at the porch door. It seemed like a beacon of warmth inviting weary travelers in from the storm. The shades of the windows were drawn but light shone through them, and from somewhere in the house a faint melody seeped out and was lost in the wind.

  “Cabronas putas—” Narciso mumbled and walked up the path. The snow quickly covered his footprints.

  I did not know why he would pause here while delivering such an important message. I did not know what to do. I had to get home before the storm got any worse, but something held me at the gate of the evil women. Narciso was already pounding at the door and shouting to be let in. Without thinking, I ran up the walk and around the side of the porch. I peered over the porch wall and through the screen.

  The door opened and a crack of light illuminated Narciso’s face. His face was puffed and bloody from the fight, and the wet snow made the blood run in trickles down his face. He would have frightened anyone, and he did. The woman who opened the door screamed.

  “Narciso! What has happened!” she cried.

  “Let me in!” Narciso roared and pushed at the door, but it was held by a chain inside and would not budge.

  “You are drunk! Or mad! Or both!” the woman shouted. “You know I allow only gentlemen to visit my girls—”

  Her face was painted red, and when she smiled at Narciso her teeth were shiny white. Her sweet perfume wafted through the open door and mixed with the music from within. I could hear laughter inside. Something told me to flee the house of the naked women, and another thought whispered for me to stay and know the awful truth. I felt paralyzed.

  “I did not come for pleasure, whore!” Narciso roared. “I have to see Márez! Is he here?”

  My ears seemed to explode with a ringing noise. I felt as if I had stood for an hour with the cold wind drumming at exposed nerves. I felt free, as if the wind had picked me up and carried me away. I felt very small and lonely. And in reality the realization of the truth discovered swept over me in a few seconds.

  “Which Márez?” I heard the woman cry out, and her laughter was echoed by a burst of laughter from within.

  “Don’t play games with me, whore!” Narciso shouted, “call Márez!” He reached through the opening and would have grabbed her if she had not jumped back.

  “Hokay! Hokay!” I heard her shout. “Andrés! Androooooo!”

  I did not want to accept the knowledge of her words, but I did. I think I knew now that I had followed Narciso and that I stood with the wind whipping at my back because I had expected to hear my brother’s name called. For a while I had even dreaded that the Márez at the house of the sinful women might be my father, because I remembered the way he and Serrano had whispered jokes about the women here when the bull was humped over the cow.

  “Androooooooooo…” The wind seemed to taunt me with the name. My brother.

  I felt very feverish now. I felt weak and useless. I remembered the day my brothers left for the big city, how they shouted about coming here before they left. And Andrew always lingering here, not telling my mother who his girl was, all seemed to fit. And I remembered my dream. Andrew had said that he would not enter the house of the naked women until I had lost my innocence.

  Had I already lost my innocence? How? I had seen Lupito mur
dered… I had seen Ultima’s cure… I had seen the men come to hang her… I had seen the awful fight just now… I had seen and reveled in the beauty of the golden carp!

  Oh God! my soul groaned and I thought that it would burst and I would die huddled against the evil house. How had I sinned?

  “¿Quién? Who? Ah, Narciso, you!” It was Andrew. He threw open the door. “Come in, come in,” he motioned. One arm was around a young girl. She was dressed in a flowing robe, a robe so loose it exposed her pink shoulders and the soft cleft of curving breasts.

  I did not want to see anymore. I pressed my forehead against the cold wood of the porch wall and closed my eyes. I wanted the cold to draw all the heat out of my tired, wet body and make me well again. The day had been so long, it seemed to stretch back to eternity. I only wanted to be home, where it was safe and warm. I wanted to hate Andrew for being with the bad women, but I could not. I only felt tired, and older.

  “No! No!” Narciso resisted the pull. “There is trouble!”

  “Where? You’re hurt—”

  “No matter—not important!” Narciso nodded, “You must get home and warn your parents!”

  “What?” Andrew asked in surprise.

  “Tell him to go away and close the door,” the girl giggled.

  “Tenorio! Tenorio, that cursed dog! He is making trouble for la Grande! He has made threats!”

  “Oh,” Andrew laughed, “is that all. You had me worried for a moment, amigo—”

  “Is that all!” Narciso cried. “He has made threats! Even now he might be up to no good! You must get home, I cannot, I am too old, I cannot get there in this storm—”

  “Shut the door! It’s cold!” the girl whimpered.

  “Where is Tenorio?” Andrew asked. I prayed that he would listen to Narciso. I wanted him to leave this evil place and help Ultima. I knew that Narciso was exhausted, and the storm was too much for him. I even doubted that I could get home. My body was numbed and feverish, and the way home was long and hard.

  “He drove off in his truck! Just now we fought at the—”

  “At the saloon,” Andrew finished. “You two have been drinking and quarreling. Now you make a big story out of it—”