“Husband?” said the compadre. “I thought it was a burro.”
Dominican Republic / Carmen Sánchez
93. The Hog
A man who had a hog ready for butchering began to think how he might keep it for himself. When his neighbors killed hogs they always shared meat with him. Now it was his turn.
The day before the hog was to be killed, the owner’s compadre suggested a plan. “We’ll butcher it tonight,” he said. “I’ll help you. Then tomorrow you’ll say, ‘A thief came during the night and took my hog.’ ”
The owner agreed. After dark, when everyone else was in bed, they got together and did the butchering. The next morning the man went out to slice some bacon for breakfast and couldn’t find the hog anywhere. His compadre, it seems, had gotten up early and taken the whole thing.
The man went knocking on doors to ask if anyone had seen his hog. The first house he came to was his compadre’s.
“Compadre!” he said. “The hog’s been stolen!”
“Yes, of course,” said the compadre. “Now you’re supposed to tell the other people.”
“But it really is stolen. Somebody came and took it.”
“Shame on you,” said the compadre. “You won’t even share it with me after all my help. May God spare you!”
Colorado / Presciliano López
94. Two Sisters
A poor woman had three children. Every day she went to her rich sister’s house to bake the bread. It’s how she made a living for her three little ones. In the evening, when her work was done, she was careful not to wash the dough from her hands until she returned home, so she could give the wash water to her children for their supper.
One day her sister asked her what she was feeding her young ones that made them so fat. How could she do it, poor as she was, when her sister, who was rich, had children who were skinny? Her sister told her the truth: “I wash up at home every night and my little children make their supper out of it.”
The rich sister said, “You’ll have to stay later than usual tonight. Wash your hands right here and feed the water to your skinny little nieces and nephews.” So the poor woman washed up at the rich woman’s house. When she finally got home to her children, she washed her hands again in order to make do, as best she could, for her own family.
The day after that, as she was hurrying home from her work, she met an old man on the road. He said, “When you get back to your children, you’ll find things changed, and whatever is there will be yours for the taking.”
By the time the poor woman got to her house, the place had become a beautiful finca with a herd of cattle in the pasture, and on top of that, there were three chests of silver money. The poor thing was delighted. Immediately she sent her son to her sister’s for a grain measure to total up the silver.
When the little boy came for the measure, the aunt asked, “What’s it for?” He told her, “My mother’s measuring grain,” and she said, “Where did your mother get grain?”
“A neighbor sent it over to us.”
The boy ran back to his mother, and the mother measured the money. But the measure had a crack in it, and a piece of silver got stuck in the crack. When the boy returned the measure, his aunt noticed the coin. She said, “Tell your mother to come here at once. I have to talk to her.”
The child brought the message to his mother, and she ran to see what her rich sister wanted. When she got there, the sister asked, “Where did this money from?” The poor thing answered, “Oh dear, it must have come from God.”
“The next time God comes to see you,” said the sister, “send him over to my place.” Then one day God arrived at the rich woman’s house unannounced, and since she had always supposed that God traveled in style, and here was a beggar at her door, she ordered her servants to turn the dogs on him.
The poor old man ran away. And less than half an hour after he disappeared, the woman’s house and everything she owned crumbled to dust. She was forced to beg for charity at the door of her sister who had formerly been poor. The rest of her life she went from door to door crying for alms, scraping together what little she could to keep her children alive.
Puerto Rico
95. The Ghosts’ Reales
There was a man who owed money to everybody. He tried first one thing and then another, but he could never find a way to get out of debt. If he didn’t owe a real, he owed a céntimo, and there were always three or four bill collectors at the door.
Finally, worn out by so many creditors, he told his wife he had thought of a way to get rid of them. He would pretend to die, and she would pretend to wail. But she must tell all the neighbors, and especially the creditors, that it was her husband’s wish that she alone should sit with the corpse until the following morning.
The wife did exactly as she had been told. The creditors came, and each said, “I forgive him.” But there was one who would not forgive. He said, “Your husband owes me a real.” The man kept waiting to be paid. He refused to go away. If there was nothing left but the burnt stub of a candle, the wife would have to give it to him.
When evening came, the coffin was carried to the church. The wife began to sit watch by herself, according to her husband’s request, while the man who was owed the real stood inside the church door waiting for his candle stub.
At midnight seven thieves came down the street looking for a place to divide the money they had stolen that night. Seeing a light in the church, they went in. Without paying attention, they sat down next to the casket where the corpse was laid out. Hearing the commotion, the man who was supposed to be dead sat up in the casket, and one of the thieves screamed. The rest turned around to look, and when they saw the dead man rising up they rushed out of the church, leaving their money on the floor.
The husband and wife wasted no time. They picked up all the money and got away.
The creditor who hadn’t been paid was still behind the door. He started to cry out, “My real, my real, my real!” The thieves, just coming back to the church to get their money, heard the cries. Thinking that ghosts were dividing the loot, with only a real for each one, they reckoned the church was filled with the dead and ran away terrified, this time with no thought of ever returning.
Dominican Republic / Julio Antonio Medina
PART NINE
96. The Bad Compadre
A merchant named Mariano went to sell a little bread and a little sugar and a little meat. He went to make a journey, and when he returned, he brought much money.
His compadre, Juan, heard about it. Then Juan said to his wife, “Do me favor, do me an errand. Go see our compadre, maybe talk to his wife.” The woman went, she talked to the man. “Do me a favor, compadre. Sometime when you go on a trip, tell your compadre. Do him that favor. ‘I’ll follow along, I want to make that trip’ is what your compadre is saying.”
“All right,” said Mariano, “I’ll be gone for a week, and I’ll earn a little money. I’ll buy a little bread and a little meat and a little sugar and a little sausage. That’s what I’ll take with me.”
“Thank you, I’ll tell your compadre,” and she returned to her husband and told him what Mariano had said.
“Well, all right,” said Juan. “I’ll be gone for a week, but I won’t take much with me, only a little bread and a little meat and a little sugar and a little sausage. That’s what I’ll take, I’ll take it and sell it.” So Juan got a little money and bought the bread and bought the meat and bought the sugar and bought the sausage. A week later he went on the business trip with his compadre. They went together.
Now Mariano knew magic, and when Juan lagged behind, Mariano went on ahead and made a spell. A swarm of leaf-cutter ants appeared, and he left them there in the road. When Juan came along, he could not get by them. Quickly he put down his bag and took out four pounds of sugar, pouring it in front of the leaf-cutter ants, together with half the bread. And with that they went running off the road.
When Juan caught up with his compadre, he
found him in the shade.
“Well,” said Mariano, “why don’t you walk faster? I’ve been here a long time. I’ve been waiting for you.”
“Well, yes, compadre,” replied Juan. “I walk slowly.” And again his compadre set off at full speed and Juan lagged behind.
Juan came to a bend in the road, and right there in front of him were two snakes. Frightened, he quickly took out two pounds of meat, one pound for one snake, one pound for the other. After eating the meat, they gave him permission to pass.
When at last he caught up, his compadre said, “Well, why can’t you walk faster?” and “What have you been doing?”
“Nothing, compadre.”
“Come on, let’s go. Time is passing.”
“All right,” said Juan.
Then Mariano went off at full speed, and Juan lagged behind again. He was not a good traveler. When he got to a turn in the road, he saw two coyotes. Quickly he took out all the bread that was left and half the meat. He gave it to them, and they ate it up. Then they ran off into the woods, and Juan went on and caught up with his compadre.
“Well, compadre, what happened to you?”
“Nothing, compadre.”
“Why were you so far behind?”
“Well, compadre, I got a little tired.”
“Come on, let’s go. Already the sun is going down.”
“All right, compadre,” said Juan. Then Mariano ran on ahead and made more magic. He made two hawks appear and left them there in the road. Poor Juan was unable to pass, because the hawks were ready to eat him. Quickly he took out all the sausage and threw it in front of them. They carried it right off, giving him permission to pass. Continuing on, he caught up with his compadre.
“Well, compadre,” said Mariano, “can’t you go a little faster?”
“Well, yes, compadre, but I got a little tired. I had to slow down.”
“Compadre, I’m going to tell you something. Don’t fall behind anymore, because we’re just about to reach the plantation that I’m headed for.”
“All right,” said Juan. Then Mariano ran ahead and made more magic against his compadre. He called up two jaguars, and when Juan came along, there they were, right in the middle of the road, waiting to eat him. Juan was frightened. But he took out his last piece of meat and threw it in front of the jaguars, and they ran off. That was all the meat he had, and Mariano had hoped he would be killed. But God did not give the jaguars permission to eat poor Juan.
When he caught up with his compadre, Mariano said, “Oh, why can’t you walk faster?”
“Well, yes, compadre, I do walk slowly.”
“Did you meet any animals on the road?”
“No, I didn’t see any.”
“Well, don’t lag so far behind, because we’re almost to the plantation.”
“All right, compadre.”
By the time they arrived at the plantation, the sun had gone down, and they had to look for a place to sleep. But first Mariano went to the owner of the plantation and talked to him. “I’ve brought along a servant who works wonderfully. And you will see for yourself how he does everything I say. And well, tomorrow I will show you this servant. But such a servant! He works wonderfully! Wonderfully!”
“All right, all right,” said the owner. “Let’s leave it at that.”
Next morning Mariano brought his compadre to work, and when evening came, the poor man returned very tired. Then the bad Mariano went to the owner again and said, “Now, patrón, I am going to tell you something. You give me a little money because I found our servant. And let me tell you what this servant told me. He said, ‘I don’t want this work, it’s too easy.’ That’s what he told me. And then he said, ‘I’ll mix a quintal of sugar and a quintal of salt, the two quintals mixed, and when morning comes I’ll give you the sugar in one bag and the salt in another.’ This is how our servant talks, patrón!”
“Well, all right,” said the owner, “and if he doesn’t do it, I’ll have him punished.”
Then the owner called poor Juan. “Look here, son, is it true that you say you can sort out a quintal of sugar and a quintal of salt from two quintals mixed?”
“No, sir,” replied Juan, “I never said that.”
“Oh yes you did,” said Mariano. “My servant speaks only the truth.”
“Well now, we’ll give you a quintal of each,” said the owner. And at that moment, right in front of poor Juan, they mixed the salt with all the sugar. Now it was done.
At eight o’clock that night Juan went to sleep, and the poor man quickly dreamed. He dreamed that the ants were saying to him, “Son, do not worry. We will take care of it, and at six in the morning you will find a bag of sugar and a bag of salt. Yes, it is true, and the bags will be well filled.”
Morning came. Mariano said, “Did you do what we talked about?”
“Compadre, I did not do anything.”
Mariano went to look at the bags, and there they were, the salt and the sugar, completely separated. He went running to the owner of the plantation. “Patrón, patrón,” he called at the door.
The patrón got out of bed. “What do you want?”
“Sir, come quickly. Our servant has done it. What I told you was not a lie. Our servant works wonderfully. And let me tell you what he told me. He say he wants to do something big. So I said to him, ‘Make a cornfield of five hundred mecates. Make it on the side of the mountain and have it ready by six tomorrow morning.’ And he says, ‘So what! I can do it.’ That’s what he says, patrón.”
“All right,” said the patrón, “I will call the man.
“Now, is it true that you say you can have a cornfield of five hundred mecates ready by six o’clock tomorrow morning?”
“No, sir, I didn’t say that.”
“Oh yes he did,” said Mariano. “Our servant tells the truth. Five hundred mecates by tomorrow morning. Have your foreman there at half past five.”
Juan was silent.
That night the animals came. They cleared the forest and planted the cornfield. At three o’clock the foreman was sent for. He went with the other men. They went to see the cornfield, and it was true. There it was. The foreman measured it. Five hundred mecates, all done. Then he came back and delivered the record of it to the owner of the plantation.
Then the bad compadre went by another road to see the patrón. He said to him, “You see, I told you how well our servant works. But now, patrón, he says, ‘I wish they would tell me to make a four-story house with a clock at the top, and the clock with four bells in it, and the house all plastered and whitewashed inside, with a garden and a water tank in front, and the lady of the house, the daughter of the patrón, with a beautiful new baby at her breast, by five o’clock tomorrow morning. All these things I would do.’ That’s what our servant says, patrón, and our servant speaks only the truth.”
“Well, thanks to my servant if he will do me that favor,” said the patrón. “And let us see if he can bring a child to the breast of my daughter! If he does not, I will turn him over for punishment. And all the work must be finished tomorrow morning at six. Now let me call him. Juan, come here!”
“Sir?” answered Juan.
“Can you really do what you say, my servant? Is it true you can do all this work?”
“No, sir.”
“And it must be done by six tomorrow morning.”
“As you wish, sir,” said Juan. And Juan went to sleep. He dreamed. He did not dream thoughts. Rather, all the animals spoke to him in his sleep.
“Juan, we are telling you not to worry. We will do the work,” said the animals in his dream. And it was true. They did the work in one night. The coyotes made the bricks. The snakes did the plastering. The hawks laid the bricks, and the leaf-cutter ants brought the beams.
The hawks went to get the clock. They both went. One brought the clock, and one brought the child from another country. All these things they brought, and they finished the whole house and painted it. And when the daughter of the p
atrón went inside, she felt nothing. But once inside, she felt a child at her breast.
When morning came, there was the garden, and there was the water tank, all well made. At six o’clock the owner of the plantation arrived. He looked, and there was the garden and all the rest, done in one night.
Then Mariano went to the owner and said, “Patrón, now you see what I told you. The servant is very good, this servant of ours. All he promised, all of it he has done. And you will pay me well, because I am the one who told you he would do it.”
“All right, Mariano, I will pay you well, because now I have a big house with a clock. Yes, I will pay you well. Come get your money this afternoon.”
“All right, patrón. But Juan will be coming to ask you for money too. Don’t give him much. No, give it to me, because I found the man.”
“All right,” said the patrón.
That afternoon at five o’clock, Mariano and his compadre both went to get their pay. The patrón gave poor Juan only a little, while Mariano got much.
That night Juan slept at the plantation, as he had done before. And in his dream the animals said to him, “Poor Juan, it is a shame what Mariano has done to you, what has happened to you because of your compadre, how he has mistreated you, and all because we did you a favor and did the work for you ourselves. Now the place has been pointed out where we will be waiting for Mariano. Do not be afraid. We will catch hold of him, and we will take his life, because we feel badly about what happened, and it is better that his bones remain in that place.
“You are free, because the sin is Mariano’s. You bought the meat, you made the expense, and now, in that place, we will put in your hand all the money he has. When we take the money, we will give it to you, Juan.” This is what they told him in his dream.
In the morning he arose, and it was true. When he arrived at that place, there were the animals in the road with his compadre, Mariano, who had gone on ahead. The animals caught hold of him, but they did nothing to Juan. The punishment of God was on his compadre, and all his bones remained in that place.
Latin American Folktales Page 28