Roots of Indifferences

by Terri Ragsdale

  Doña Francisca politely excused herself and ordered one of the other maids in the kitchen to help Yolanda prepare the guest his bedroom and his dinner. The young women were huddled around the long halls, talking and giggling among themselves, including Yolanda, making remarks about the handsome, young Alvarez. "Now, girls he's only our guest. Remember! Only the best for our guests!" she said. "Get to work!" Between her talk and laughter, she coughed. "Yolanda! Please make sure that he has plenty of fresh water in the porcelain pitcher and clean towels. Take the basin and clean it, and also check to see if the urinal under the bed is clean." She then headed for the upstairs bedrooms. In her quarters, she grabbed her embroidery basket and walked down the long hall to check on Victoria's welfare and to have a talk with her.

  Victoria had already gotten herself washed and dressed in a more elaborate, low cut, blue lace dress and was sitting facing the mirror, while Mamá Maria was gently combing and trying to dry her long hair. Before Doña Francisca had a chance to sit down, Victoria's eyes lit up. "What's his name?" she questioned. She became all nervous and excited before her mother had a chance to say a word.

  "His name is Juan Alvarez, and he comes from across the border. He mentioned Monterrey. He is very well educated, has excellent manners, and speaks excellent English as well. I do not know how affluent his family is, but if he is studying to be a physician, as he indicated, they must have wealth. Most families in Mexico normally do not have money to send their sons to medical schools in Guadalajara, so I presume they do. He is caught up with the Mexican revolution against Díaz. Such a foolish man! He is so handsome. He has now joined with Madero to lead the war. He wants your father to go with him to San Antonio to visit with Madero, who is there now having a convention. I personally do not like it. I think that with all this talk, there are going to be problems."

  "That's him! The same man I saw at the resaca," replied Victoria all aroused. Her eyes sparkled like fireworks. Then her expression went from joyous to concern. "War? Did you say war, Mother? What about Madero and Father? Will I still be going to school in Monterrey?"

  "I'm afraid so. I think that Madero will eventually become president. Our friend, President Díaz, is getting too old. Your grandfather has retired from the Mexican political government, and I'm glad he is out of office. He is no longer having to deal with so much corruption and is now enjoying ranch life with his prized bulls outside of Monterrey."

  There was a long pause in their conversation, like the silence immediately before an explosion.

  "Victoria!" said Doña Francisca. Her tone of voice rose, becoming more firm and serious. She had gotten herself comfortable on the red velvet French chaise next to the armoire beside Victoria's bed, and began embroidering, looking up over her glasses. She continued, "Have you forgotten our little consejos? Have you forgotten that you have been promised to marry Ricardo Del Calderóne when you turn eighteen? You're betrothed!"

  "Yes! Mamá," Victoria answered, with a fleeting look at Mamá Maria, and seriously concerned.

  "Your father informed me that you were joking to him about not getting married! It upset your father terribly that he had to talk to me about your conversation with him. Ricardo has been studying in Paris, France, to get the education to better himself and for your welfare. It will benefit you to have a husband like Ricardo, with an education to make a good living. So when you become his wife, you'll become a lady of charm and society living in beautiful Monterrey."

  "Mother—," Victoria started to say something.

  "Let me finish, young lady. Your father and I are better judges of your future and are sending you to school so that you can achieve, and learn good manners, and be presentable to others in what you do and say. That is very important in our society. You should not get so excited about other young men because they are handsome. I have noticed your actions, and that bothers me, but that is very common with girls your age who are very impressionable—but that is part of nature—part of growing up. You'll get over that as time goes on. You are making a big to do about our guest and becoming very emotional. It is most embarrassing. He is a man we know little about. That shows improper manners on your part, and is all the more reason to be educated so that you can get acquainted with socially important people."

  Doña Francisca went into long detail about the importance of being a lady and having good proper manners. She talked about the importance of morality and avoiding unacceptable behavior, all reflecting her own tranquil attitude. "Men don't like silly young girls, gossiping and giggling all the time." She started to cough. "They like intelligent adult women." She began coughing again. "Women should stay in their place." She began wheezing, got up, pulled her handkerchief from her blouse and held it against her mouth. She couldn't say another word and sounded as though she was strangling in her own phlegm. She left the bedroom, went into her chamber, and closed the door.

  "Mamá, are you all right?" was all that Victoria could say. Startled, she stood up, briefly studied her reflection in the mirror, and then turned to Mamá Maria. "Mother is seriously sick—more than she is letting on, Mamá Maria!" But Victoria's concern for her mother did not detract totally from her enthusiasm about the stranger. She was inquisitive about downstairs where the excitement was luring her, wanting to see more of the handsome revolutionist. "I'm going downstairs," she said, thankful that her mother's disturbing coughing had stopped her from nagging any further about her actions.

  "Ay! Hija! I would not pester your father at this moment. He is in a serious conference with Señor Alvarez. And you know how your father hates the idea of anyone interrupting him when he is busy. I don't think he wants your opinion in any kind of political matters. Better go and play the piano and practice your lessons, or stay in your room. I had better go and check on your Mamá. Her cough is getting worse. I wonder if we could get the young Alvarez doctor to examine your mother later."

  As Victoria walked halfway down the curved stairs, with her long, taffeta gown swaying in waves, she could hear voices coming from her father's library. When she reached the marble tiles at the bottom of the stairs, she looked both ways, hoping that nobody was watching. She slowly sashayed closer, trying to get a glimpse of the stranger through the crack in the door, which was not tightly closed. She could see her father standing and pacing, making motions with his hands, like he always did when he got excited, banging on the desk and looking angry. Somehow or other, it looked like the two men had the Mexican revolutionary problems under control. Cautiously, she peeked through the opening between the two French doors.

  Little brother Fred, in turn, had gotten word from Yolanda, who had quickly told the other servants, who were described by Mamá Maria as developing into a hornet's nest, gossiping that there was an important guest in the house and that Don Federico and the stranger were discussing revolution and war.

  And as for the saying "curiosity killed the cat," inquisitiveness and prying ran extremely strong in the family line; Fred had to see for himself. For war, guns and those destructive things were his main interest. He had played the game so many times with his toy tin soldiers: plan strategy, divide, and conqueror—victory was his motto!

  He had ventured from the main living room and was on his way to his bedroom when he caught a glimpse of Victoria's actions. Silently, he hid behind one of the pillars that held the arches of the antechambers, occasionally spying on Victoria from behind the pillar. He had to put his hands over his mouth to conceal his mischievous laughter. Victoria, in turn, was fascinated by the activities going on inside the library. She was bent over, getting a better view and swaying her behind, tapping to her own rhythm. Unfortunately, Victoria did not know that Fred was watching her, or that Mamá Maria was standing quietly in the middle of the stairway observing Fred. Fred's naughty thoughts were undeterred. He was full of impulsiveness and seemed to be possessed by a devilish, playful spirit that had invaded his restless mind. Fart for brains. So much for his mother’s constant Catholic preaching, there were times he cer
tainly could have grown horns and a tail for being ill-disciplined.

  As the saying goes, "boys will be boys." Fred decided to take things into his own hands. That will teach her, he thought, to be listening to other people's conversations. Without any foresight or consideration as to the disastrous consequences that it would bring, he bowed down, put his hands over his head with his fingers resembling horns like a bull, and ran as fast as his feet would take him, ramming right into Victoria's rear end.

  Victoria crashed! There was a loud scream coming from Mamá Maria, who was an eyewitness to the incident. "Dios mío!" The cry resounded through the long corridors. "That devil child!" she cried, meaning Fred. Victoria sprawled, face down, looking like a dismembered rag doll on the library floor, broken glass and all.

  "What is this?" Don Federico yelled, humiliated and in horror, choking and gasping for breath and wanting immediate answers. "What in the world? What's happening? Victoria! What's the meaning of this?" He stood by the door, his mouth open and his hands in the air, appalled. In the background, he caught a glimpse of Mamá Maria grabbing Fred by his right ear and shoulder. Fred was fighting her, trying to escape, but she held onto him to show Don Federico who the main culprit was.

  "I'll beat your hind-end off royally, young man," roared Don Federico in anger, as he struggled to take his belt off. "Go to your bedroom! I'll be right up! You better have a convincing explanation, young man!" Frustrated, with flushed face, he turned his attention to the handsome courier. "Excuse us, Juan. I need to go and take care of the delinquent children—family crisis. Seems that my children need a cultivating lesson in manners," he said, pointing to his belt.

  Juan's first instinct was to rush over to Victoria's side and assist her. The whole place was a state of confusion as servants and workers ran to help. Some stood in the foyer, looking into the library with their mouths open, dumbfounded. Their chatter, turning to laughter, became contagious. Fred's screams were heard throughout the house, as Don Federico was following him upstairs, talking loudly and disciplining him on his rude behavior, especially when guests came to visit.

  "I'm going to die. I'm going to die!" cried Fred.

  "Not at this time," replied Mamá Maria, wryly.

  Roy appeared, attracted by the commotion, eating corn-on-the-cob, barefoot, and looking loutish. "Waal now, doggies!" He grinned. "He's gonna git his britches tan. Sounds like a good butt lickin'. Dat shit gonna be all over!"

  Juan sauntered toward Victoria and grabbed her by the waist and pulled her up toward him. He whispered in her ear. "Damn! This business of you falling on the ground all the time has got to stop. We have to do something about this! I'm getting tired of picking you up! And what is that horrible smell?" And saying that, he was halfway grinning, and if the truth were known, he would have hysterics, but he was too mannerly and polite and could never be disrespectful.

  Victoria felt her face flush as she pushed away from him. She almost slapped him for what he said. She was mad and terribly embarrassed. She wished that the ground would swallow her up, body and soul. Out in the entry, servants stood stunned, watching her. She hurried as fast as her feet could carry her, with tears running down her cheeks, as she tried to straighten her ruffled skirt and ignore the crowd. Mamá Maria followed. Victoria turned to see Yolanda coming from the kitchen. Yolanda had one hand overt her mouth to hide her grin, and the other hand held Juan's plate of food. "Well! What of it?" Victoria hollered at Yolanda. "What are you laughing at?" If looks could kill, Yolanda would have been dead!

  Don Federico returned shortly, breathing hard and in a sweat. He wiped his forehead, slumped into his leather chair, and apologized to Juan several times. "Please excuse my children," he kept repeating. "Please excuse Fred's thoughtlessness. He is extremely impulsive and needs discipline. He'll be going soon to a military school close to Austin, Texas. Victoria is still very young and needs to learn much in life. We are sending her to El Colegio De Santa Maria in Monterrey, in January, where she will start her schooling. My children get very restless, so they play jokes on each other."

  "How old is Victoria?" Juan asked, somewhat bemused while eating his food. "She looks much older than what she probably is!"

  "Victoria is going to be sixteen in November. We are planning a big celebration. We missed her fifteenth birthday last year, on account of my father's death." He went into an elaborate discussion about his doubts of how his father had died and how he was not convinced that it was natural causes. He then decided to change the subject. "You are more than welcome to come and join us in the celebration. We hope you will be around so that you can share in our big fiesta."

  "I just might do that!" commented Juan, and with these words, a radiant joy spread over his face.

  "You'll be staying with us until the storm has passed," suggested Don Federico. "If we get too much rain, it's almost impossible to leave—mud will be clear up to your knees." He began laughing. "While the storm continues, it will give me enough time to get things organized and give out orders on what needs to be done here on the ranch. I can prepare myself to go and visit with my friend Madero. It will also give me the opportunity to visit with my only sister, Josie, whom I haven't heard from in a long time. Also, while I'm in San Antonio, I'lll be able to buy gifts for my family. We need many things for Victoria's celebration!" He paused and studied Juan Alvarez. "Now! We can continue our conversation about Madero."

  "Thank you," replied Juan, with great satisfaction. He had finished eating and put his plate away, washed his hands on the damp towel at his place, and continued his talk about Madero and how the man was in great danger. He talked about the old ways and of old man Díaz. "We are on the brink of a great catastrophe if things don't change."

  "I just finished reading the book Barbarous Mexico. It's quite shocking about the Yacquis Indians' slavery. Imagine! Slavery existing in this free world and in Mexico! Several months ago, one of my vaqueros got a Sears and Roebuck catalog, and inside was a hidden piece of paper written by the famous journalist, Ricardo Flores Magón, who told about the injustices people were experiencing in Mexico, and how he had escaped. He is now living in the United States, in fear of being killed. It's very disturbing."

  "Everything is true and much worse," answered Juan enthusiastically, trying to convince Don Federico to join the group of men to fight for justice and human rights across the border. "Ricardo Magón has been writing the truth about Díaz for quite some time. He took exile in the United States after fleeing Mexico because of the realities he has witnessed and experienced. He continues writing El Regeneración. The majority of people here in the United States do not know the real truth. He wants the people to open their eyes and see what's happening in our country. Díaz has had the newspapers suppressed, announcing only what is pleasant and only what the rich investors want to hear. That’s another reason on his suppression keeping the news from getting out of the country. The poor people are struggling. There are too many injustices. Madero knows firsthand the conditions and problems of our country. I left medical school to follow him because I know he wants to do the right thing and unite our country. With Díaz, nothing will ever change. Do you see now why we have to have a revolution? To change our country and give democracy back to the people. It is our only solution for a great change."

  There was a long silent pause but the two men agreed that the country of Mexico needed change. Don Federico said, "Well! Is Díaz going to win the election this time around? This will be his eighth time, you know. Does Madero think he can get enough people to back him?"

  Juan got up and began pacing the floor. Don Federico eyed him sharply and listened carefully. "As you know, the running mate of Díaz is the despised Ramon Corral. The people hate him because of the Indian slave trade he has in Veracruz, killing many of them, taking control over their land. Rumors are that Corral has about a year to live since he is dying from the venereal disease. Díaz and Ramon Corral are the hated Científicos, who believe only in themselves. To hell with the poor, t
hey say. Now, the Mestizos, crossbred like me, are the true Mexicans. We have a sense of our Mexico. The credit will have to come to us for having created a common people out of the many diverse groups on Mexican soil. Survival has become a matter of luck and miracles. Many say that the Mestizos have low traits and no personal ambitions or scruples. Now, you know, Don Federico, that is not true! Sure, many say that we are lazy, but what are the Mexican people supposed to do when they are so controlled and exploited?"

  Juan spoke with eloquence and tenderness that only a Mejicano could speak. He continued, "Madero wants to give unity to his people, who since time immemorial have been divided by language, race, culture, and class. Díaz, in turn, tries to impress the foreigners with his big lavish celebrations. Just last month, all of the foreign guests were invited to visit Mexico, all expenses paid. The party cost twenty million pesos, more than twice what Díaz has spent this year on education." Juan's conversation went on. He talked about the terrible atrocities that were being committed in jails and how the people were treated so brutally. He talked about the poor whose brown bodies sweltered in the hot sun and worked in the coal mines and silver mines, and others who cried for warmth in the cold, all for lack of knowledge and not being educated. Regardless, they were all slaves, reviled and despised.

  Frowning, Don Federico was silent for a long time, his two hands clasped on his mahogany desk. "You're correct. The newspapers are not reporting any wrongdoing in Díaz's regime. However, rumors are seeping in from natives across the border, and the book I just mentioned does speak of much cruelty. Ironically, we live this side of the border, and Díaz is doing a good job in keeping it concealed from the masses." Don Federico was impressed with the enthusiasm of this young gentleman, whose sparkling eyes were so intriguing, and who seemed to want so much to change Mexico for the betterment of its people.