Chapter 8
The night before in the hotel room in Arecibo had been much like the night they had spent in San Juan; only this time, Hector had been the one. Now, sitting in their cabin while Noribel stowed her bags, Hector began to feel uneasy about their future.
Once the boat was out of the harbor and headed for open water, Hector knew there was no turning back. He had felt this before, but now the feeling was more final, more absolute, and he did not know where his mind was going to go. He felt as though he were in a perpetual dream; a fantasy made by someone else's hand, and the feeling made him confused and tired. He lay on his cot as the waves sway the boat side to side, and there was an element to the motion that seemed to sway him as though he had been swayed this way before. He did not know what to make of this, and when Noribel said she was going to go up on deck, he told her that he was going to stay where he was and rest for a while. A feeling came over him as he lay on the cot; a feeling of hate and rage that he did not know what to make of filled his chest, and he breathed slowly and heavily like an angry lion.
The motion of the boat swayed him into a half sleep stage. He felt as though he were sleeping, but he knew he was not. He saw himself in his mind as another man, one that looked like him but was not him. Maybe it is me, he thought.
The chugging moan of the engine was like the beat of drums in his mind. He waited to see what the man would do as he watched. He felt as though he were transported to another time and place though the place seemed familiar, and the time seemed like now. He rolled over in his cot. The man in his mind turned around. He put his right arm behind his head, and the man did the same. It is me, he thought. He became the man in his mind.
Hector stood in the middle of a battlefield and looked around. He was the only one left standing, the only survivor of a great battle, and he felt glorious. The sun was low on the field, and he felt its warmth on his face. A slight film of sweat covered his body, and he noticed that he had blood on his chest and on his legs. A fallen man moaned nearby. He still had his sword in his hand, and he could not stop himself from searching for the wounded man. His anger rose again, but he was not able to check it, or to understand it, and he looked around furiously for the man who dared to be alive on his field of glory. The sun shone off shields and puddles of fresh blood. There must have been hundreds, maybe thousands of dead men in the trampled grass around him. He could not stop himself from searching for the man that was still alive.
Hector stopped walking and listened for the moan. He stood 1 with his long hair blowing back, blown by the wind that carried the smell of death, and he heard the moan again from a body not ten feet from where he stood. He rushed over to the man and kicked his limp body over so that he could see the shield on his chest. Without hesitation, he pushed the blade through the man's chest and into the blood-soaked ground. He could not believe that he had just killed a man, but he did not know how to stop himself. Now he was two men—the Hector that lay on a cot on a boat bound for Fort Lauderdale, and a savage killer on an ancient battlefield. But the half dream did not last, and he passed from that scene into a deep sleep.
When he woke, he was still alone in their cabin. He did not know how long he had slept, and he hoped that they were almost to the U.S. He did not remember the dreams he had had while he slept; all that remained was a fear that he had done something terribly wrong a very long time ago. But this feeling did not make any sense to him, and his mind soon wandered to thoughts of Tablones and the life he had left behind.
There were some things about his youth that he did not offer to tell Noribel. He thought about the time Jesus had come home in the summer and Jose had offered to let Hector take some time off from work so that he could spend some time with his brother. Jose had said that he was fortunate to have a brother to spend time with, and it would be too bad if they did not take every opportunity they had to get to know one another before they were old and married and set in their own, separate ways. Jesus saw this as his chance to tell his younger brother all the things a young man should know. He thought that it was time that his brother learned how to be close to a woman and what to do when his passion rose. But Hector had thought that it would be a chance to fish the river and sleep in the sun. He did not think of women much, and when he did, it was in a way that he did not want to pursue. His thoughts of women had always ended when he saw his mother's face on the girl he was thinking about. Once he had pictured Ida from down the road with no clothes on, but when she turned in his mind, she was his mother. He did not tell Jesus about this though, and when he said that they were going to go into the center of the village after dinner one night, he did not think that they were going there so he could learn about women.
Jesus smelled of perfume to Hector as they walked toward town in the late afternoon. He wore a brightly colored shirt of red, green and orange, and his pants looked like they were part of his body. Hector smiled and wanted to laugh as he walked behind. They did not live far from the center of the village, and the walk took less than an hour. We could have ridden the burro, Hector thought as he looked at his brother's tall boots plopping the dust of the road as he walked. He caught up to Jesus and walked by his side.
"Why are we going to the center?" Hector asked when he had reached his brother.
"You'll see," he said without looking. "I have to show you something." Jesus smiled as he thought to himself for a moment.
"But whatever you do, you must not tell Papa. And that means don't tell Mother either."
Hector could not imagine what it was that Jesus knew about in the center of the village that he did not, but he was willing to see it whatever it was. Nothing could be worse than Paco the crazy man, he thought. I hope he does not take me to see him. If he does, I'll just tell him I have already seen him and go back home. But Jesus did not know about Paco other than he had gone crazy, and what he intended to show his brother would not make him sick or scared.
They walked into the center of the village and stopped by the porch of the general store. Jesus wore an expression of anticipation; he looked as though he were preparing to commit a crime, but Hector knew that his brother was far from the type who did such things. Jesus leaned against one of the poles of the porch and lit a cigarette. He offered one to his brother and smiled when he did not take from the extended pack.
Jesus said, "What is wrong, little one? Don't you enjoy a cigarette after dinner?'
Hector knew that his brother knew he did not care for tobacco in any form and that he was trying to make fun of him by pretending that he was childish and scared to smoke because he thought his father would find out. There were a couple other, older boys sitting on the porch in the shadow, and Hector heard one of them laugh at Jesus' remark.
"Hey. Cado," Jesus said to one of the boys on the porch, "can you believe this little jibaro brother of mine? I'm takin' him to see the goose. You do want to see the goose, don't you Hector?"
Hector did not know what the goose was, and he became nervous when the two boys laughed hard at the plan. But he did not want his older brother to think he was ignorant or scared, so he nodded his head. "Sure, I'll take a look at the goose."
The three older boys heard this and laughed very hard. Hector looked from the boys to his brother, but Jesus was bent over with laughter and would not relieve the boy's feeling of alienation.
"Not see," Jesus said after he caught his breath, "do!"
"Yea," said one of the other boys, "you can see the goose any time, but Jesus here has made arrangements for you to do more than see. Isn't that right, Jesus? Sure my friend. You are going to find a whole new meaning for the word goose."
The three boys laughed again. Jesus looked at his watch and flicked his cigarette into the road. "It’s time to go," he said. The two boys stood and put their hands in their front pockets and flapped them out as they laughed. "Good luck, jibaro," the one Jesus had called Cado said. So Jesus knows these boys, Hector thou
ght. These are the ones Papa told me were no good. He turned from the boys on the porch and saw that Jesus was already down the road.
Hector followed his brother down a narrow road that lead to the river before it cut back to the main road. There were no farms on the road to speak of, and he had never had reason to walk down it. Jesus looked back to make sure that his brother was following, and he waited. Hector caught him, and Jesus said that they were almost there and that he better be ready because it is not every day a young man gets to see the goose for free. Hector could still not understand what was so special about this goose that made it different from the thousands of geese he had seen at the pond next to the field in winter. Maybe it is a giant goose that someone down here owns, he thought. Maybe he will only show it to you if you pay him and that is how he makes money without having to work in the fields. He laughed to himself as he thought about such a ridiculous way of making a living. He thought about how Paco the crazy man would be the type to do such a thing, but he could not allow himself to think about that man for long because to do so was said to bring bad luck to a person. Jesus stopped by a path that lead into the thick brush and he looked at his brother from top to bottom.
"You sure you are up to this, jibaro?" he asked.
"I wish you would not call me that," Hector said.
"Okay big man," Jesus said. "You just better not waste my money by running off when you see what I have done for you."
Jesus led the way down the path, clearing the overhanging branches out of the way as he went. Hector followed close behind and saw that there was a small house with a broken down porch set back in the shadows of the thick trees. The vegetation was so thick that there was a light on in the house though out by the main road the sun was still up. Jesus walked up to the door and knocked.
"Who's there?" a voice from inside asked. There was music, faintly audible, and the voice sounded to Hector like that of a young girl.
"It’s me," Jesus said, "Jesus. Remember? I told you I was going to bring my brother over."
Hector stood a few feet back from the porch while Jesus was right up to the door. The door opened a crack but not enough for Hector to see who was inside. He could see that his brother had handed something to the person before the door closed. Jesus turned around with a smile and waved for Hector to come up on the porch.
"Everything is all set," he said. "Now remember, don't tell anyone that I brought you here. And another thing: if things don't go well, don't hit her or say anything mean to her. You understand? We don't want to ruin it for everybody." Hector still did not know what was happening, but he agreed that he would not tell anyone and he would not hit her, whoever she was. He opened the door slowly and walked inside as Jesus walked away.
It was Ida Ruiz, the girl he had often tried to picture in his head with no clothes on. She sat on an old, ripped sofa with a radio on a table next to her and a bottle of rum on a table in front of her. She was not wearing any clothes. Hector stood for a long time looking at her, but she did not return his look. She had seen him before, as he had seen her, and it was clear to him that she did not like the idea of having to do whatever it was she was doing. He took off his pava and sat on a folding chair by the door.
"I came to see the goose," he said.
Ida looked at him slowly and sat up. "What did you call me?" she asked.
"No, no," Hector said seeing that she was getting mad about something, "I didn't call you anything. I came to see the goose you have. My brother told me he was taking me to see the goose.
"You stupid idiot, she said. "Those idiots call me the goose. But you better not do it again, or you can leave right now and get nothing."
"What am I supposed to get?" he asked, but he had no sooner said it when Ida took a drink from the bottle of rum and sat back and moved her left leg high up over the back of the sofa. He did not have to ask again what it was his brother had bought for him. So this is it, he thought. This is what those boys were laughing about at the store. But knowing what was going on and doing what was expected of him were two different things. He decided to talk to her as he thought about what to do.
"Is that rum you have?" he asked.
"Yea," she said, "do you want some before we start?"
"No thanks, I don't like rum."
He could not get over how young she looked without her clothes on. She had dressed like a woman ever since he could remember, and she was not more than a year older than him. His father had not told him about women that sell their bodies to men for a night, so he did not know what to do or what not to do. He did not think that what he was witnessing was necessarily wrong, it was just that it was something he did not have any knowledge of. He did know, however, that she was naked for a reason and he knew how it made him feel to see her.
"Why don't you come sit over here next to me," she said. "I know what to do for you. You won't regret it."
Hector did not answer. He sat and looked at her body and tried to get as much of what he saw into his mind before she became embarrassed and told him to leave. But why did they tell me I was to "do" something, he thought. This is fine for me: I could sit here and look at her for hours if she lets me. But Ida had no intention of letting him sit there for hours. She had been paid, and it was not her way to let a boy go and tell his friends that he had sat and looked at her but done nothing. She had a reputation for being fair and never taking advantage of an inexperienced boy. She stood and walked slowly, sultry as best she could, over to Hector and sat lightly on his knee.
"Don't be afraid," she said as her face got closer and Hector could smell the stink of stale rum on her breath, "I'm not going to hurt you. I'm here to make you feel good." She slid his shirt over his head and led him to the couch. It was not long before he knew what to do and how to do it.
There were beads in her hair, Hector thought as he lay on the cot on the boat headed for Fort Lauderdale. There were beads, and they sway across my face. He stood and walked for the door to look out and see if he could see Noribel from their room. He could not, so he went back in the room and lay back on the cot and thought about Ida until he had remembered all that he could remember. That's okay, he thought, I did not do anything wrong. I won't have to tell her about it.
Hector Page 8
