Scent of Tears

by M. Juan Knecht

  Chapter Seven

  Two days later, I began the journey to San Francisco with Don Topo, Pilar and Lucinda. Donna Inez had declared herself too ill to travel with us. Evidently she felt so awful she couldn’t even bring herself to congratulate her new half-white, half-witted son-in-law. Pilar, the youngest sister, had been brought along to serve as a bridesmaid at our wedding.

  Don Topo and his girls rode in an ornate, high-wheeled carriage, and I rode alongside. My horse, one of Don Topo’s finest, was carrying my newly purchased spade bit. He worked the bit constantly with his tongue. The metal roller in the mouth piece sounded like an agitated cricket. I found the rapid clicking noise melodic.

  “That is the most annoying sound I have ever heard,” Lucinda said between clenched teeth. “Take the bit out of that horse’s mouth and ride him with the bosal. Do it this very minute.”

  I kept looking ahead and didn’t stop the horse. To me, the sound of a spade-bit cricket was a relaxing, pretty sound, just like the sound of my spur rowels ringing when I walked.

  Lucinda burst out in annoyance, “Fail to heed my instructions, you dolt, and I’ll cut your bridle reins.”

  The reins were tightly braided rawhide with many intricate buttons. They were a work of art, and I was proud of them. Most likely, Lucinda was kidding. Still, I moved the horse a few more yards away from the carriage, just in case she wasn't.

  The trip would take three days, with nightly accommodation at the homes of Topo’s many relatives. During our journey, Lucinda acted very aloof toward everyone. Indeed, her outburst about the noise the horse was making were the first words she had spoken to me the entire trip. Twice her father had told her that she had better sharpen her acting skills and make believe she was a happy bride, or he’d toss her out of the carriage and she could walk back to Monterey. She snapped at him to stop the carriage and she would do just that. They glared at each other, but the carriage rolled on toward San Francisco.

  As we rode, Don Topo spoke with me about the condition of the cattle and the cycle of drought and flood that plagued California. In that respect, it was time well spent. Don Topo freely shared his knowledge about the agricultural enterprises we passed, and pontificated at length about what made money or lost money and why. The landscape seemed to inspire him. He had always made an effort to educate me on how things worked, but this was our first time traveling together for any distance.

  Lucinda always looked off in disgust when these tomes on agriculture enterprise were expressed, but several times Pilar tried to join in the conversation. Whenever she said something, Lucinda glared at her until she was quiet. Lucinda also glared at her father and at me, but we succeeded in ignoring her attempts at restricting our conversation.

  Pilar resembled Don Topo in build and intelligence. She was the only member of the household besides Don Topo who made an effort to be kind to me. Once during the trip, in an incredible show of bravery, Pilar mimicked Lucinda’s mannerisms to entertain me. She looked down over her right elbow, wrapped her arms under her breasts, and thrust her nose in the air as high as it would go. It was a fine caricature of Lucinda’s behavior when she was sneering at something, and it required split-second timing to avoid Lucinda’s detection. I nearly bit through my lip to keep from laughing.

  Once, when the oldest sister, Evangeline, had made fun of something Lucinda was wearing, Lucinda had grabbed a heavy cooking pot and gone after Evangeline, intending to hit her over the head. It had taken all members of the household to pull the two girls apart. Lucinda’s big sister came out of the battle much the worse for wear, sporting a knot on her forehead for many days after.

  On the third day, at around one in the afternoon, we arrived at the outskirts of San Francisco. The closer we got to the center of the city, the more the smell and hubris of civilization blighted the landscape.

  Of course, Don Topo had relatives who lived in the city, so that is where we dropped off Lucinda, her sister, their maid, and a mountain of luggage.

  Don Topo and I went on to the Yerba Buena Mission, where he was greeted like a visiting dignitary. We were each given our own rooms next to the central hall. My room had a large, fresh pitcher of water to wash up with, as well as clean sheets and towels. The tile floors were immaculate. The sparse furniture was so heavy and artistically carved it had to have been imported from Spain. Dinner was lamb, fresh corn and tiny artichokes soaked in garlic butter, all served on heavy china plates etched with gold filigree. It was wonderful food, and my trepidation eased as I took advantage of the bounty on the table.

  However, that trepidation came back the next morning.

  “I don’t want to marry this boy,” Lucinda said to her father as we gathered for the wedding breakfast in the dining room of the Mission.

  This time, rather than lying in my customary spot behind the root cellar door I was in the room with them, which evidently it didn’t matter. Lucinda simply talked as if I wasn’t there.

  Don Topo gave her a stern look and nodded at Pilar to leave the room.

  “You know the vigilantes will never catch Tiburcio,” Lucinda said.

  Don Topo sighed and gently put his hand on Lucinda’s shoulder. Lucinda twitched slightly but didn’t knock the hand off. There was sadness in her father’s voice. “Say his name again and I will ship you back to Spain and place you in a convent. Vasquez has disgraced you and dishonored your family.”

  “The people love him for striking out against the injustice of the Yankees.”

  Lucinda stepped back and tipped a chair over. The chair clattered onto the tile floor.

  Don Topo’s eyes blazed and his mustache bristled as he faced his daughter.

  “He is nothing but a small-time cattle thief who uses discrimination against the Spanish and Indians as an excuse for stealing livestock. Let me put a bounty on his head. We will see how much his fellow countrymen love him if they have to choose between a thousand dollars in gold and their loyalty to an outlaw. If enough gold is offered for his capture, he will be in prison or dead within a year.”

  “You are wrong,” Lucinda said and drew herself up to her full height, which was equal to mine and several inches above her father’s.

  Don Topo looked up at her as they locked eyes. Now Don Topo’s smile grew cold. “We will have the appearance of a respectable family. Your forefathers didn’t work this hard and risk as much as they did to have their legacy tarnished by scandal. Your sisters don’t deserve it. Your mother doesn’t deserve it. Most of all, your unborn child doesn’t deserve it. Our family will not live under the cloud of your disgraceful behavior. You will accept Charlie as your husband.”

  “Why marry me to this idiot?”

  My jaws clenched and I felt the muscles across my back tighten, but neither of them seemed to notice I was there. They could have been discussing the merits of a freshly acquired bull calf.

  “Charlie is a fine person. Do you think that a hard-working, sober man such as Charlie couldn’t find a kind and gentle woman to marry? He is doing this for me and for no other reason. Charlie has provided services to this family that you know nothing about. He has demonstrated tremendous bravery, and his loyalty to me is without question. It would greatly please me if you kept a civil tongue in your head.”

  Lucinda glared at me for a moment before turning her head away.

  Don Topo went on in a more conciliatory tone: “Charlie will honor you, which is more than you can say for Vasquez.”

  Like her mother, Lucinda liked to change the subject when she didn’t want to lose an argument.

  “The Californios will never betray him.”

  “Then where is this bandit you favor so much? He hasn’t shown his face in Monterey since the constable was killed. If he felt anything for you, he would have come back and taken you off my hands.” Don Topo covered his eyes with his hands then quickly removed them again. “Que lastima, I see you are still here.”

  Lucinda’s nostrils flared wide and her lips compressed together into a
line. She seemed to be chewing on her inner lip while she worked on a reply.

  “I have difficulty understanding his absence,” her father said. “Perhaps it is caused by his engagement to Chona, Anastacio Garcia’s sister?”

  Lucinda rocked back, as if she had been slapped.

  “You look surprised,” Don Topo said. “All of Monterey knows of this love match. Even your knight errant, Tiburcio Vasquez admits to his compadres he is enamored.”

  The color of Lucinda’s eyes darkened, and I was afraid Don Topo had gone too far. The hair on the back of my neck stood up. I looked for a place to hide in case she started throwing things.

  Instead, perhaps sensing that her father was at the end of his tether, Lucinda changed the subject. “Is there any chance you are expecting me to share a bed with this...?” Apparently unable to come up with a word low enough to accurately describe me, she simply nodded her head in my direction and threw her hands up in exasperation.

  “Who sleeps where remains a matter between a husband and wife,” Don Topo replied.

  “I would rather kill myself than submit to this pimple faced boy.”

  With surprising quickness, Don Topo slipped a small dagger from his sash, flipped it over, and held the handle in her direction. “I am tired of listening to your histrionics. If you’d seek death rather than honor your family and give your child a name, take the knife and carry out your threat. Do it now, in front of me, and let’s be done with your threats.”

  Lucinda turned her head and swept from the room into the main part of the church. I felt the breath leave my body.

  “That was a risky thing,” I said once she was well out of earshot.

  “It was Lucinda indulging in theatrics. I know my daughter, Charlie. She is too mean to end her own life. However, before you attempt to join her in the marriage bed, keep this in mind: just because she won’t cut her own wrists, doesn’t mean she won’t cut yours. I wouldn’t be too quick to assert your marital rights unless you are able to sleep with one eye open.”

  Reassuring words from my future father-in-law that I pondered throughout the night.

  The next morning, we went to a dry goods store where Topo bought me a charcoal suit with a string tie and some black dress shoes that were too small. Topo paid in advance for photographs to be taken before the wedding. Lucinda insisted our wedding pictures be separate. I saw no point in having a picture taken of me at all, anymore than a steer would want a picture taken right before he was led to slaughter.

  Though she was adamantly opposed to the marriage, Lucinda had shopped for a wedding dress. She had coerced a great deal of money from Topo for a simple but extremely expensive white dress and veil. Topo grumbled that he could have bought another ranch with the money Lucinda spent on a wedding dress and accompanying portrait.

  The wedding was scheduled for six that evening, so I was let loose on the city, but only after Don Topo had extracted three separate promises from me that I would not ride back to Monterey. As I started to walk away, he gripped my arm and drew from me one last solemn vow that I would return to the Mission for the wedding.

  I was half-way down the block when Pilar caught up with me.

  “Papa says I must go with you. However, if you want to escape, I’ll delay reporting your absence for as long as possible.”

  I tried to remember how old she was. My best guess was twelve. I looked at her chubby, happy face and smiled. If her teeth weren’t crooked, she would have been pretty. Her eyes sparkled with intelligence and humor.

  “Are you really going to marry that witch?” she asked.

  “Do you mean Lucinda?” I replied, taken aback.

  “There was only one witch riding in the carriage.”

  “Pilar, you of all people should know I am honor-bound to do what your father asks. You know how much I owe him. Don’t you want me for a brother-in-law?”

  “I’ll be proud to have you as a brother-in-law. You’re my one true friend, Charlie. But I feel my father is forcing you into a marriage with a woman who sees you as somebody to make fun of, not to marry. Lucinda is awful to be around even when she’s happy, but when she finds herself in a situation she doesn’t want to be in, it will be hell for you.”

  “Watch your language.”

  Pilar skipped twice, then spun around and told me she had never been to San Francisco before. She followed that with a thoughtful frown.

  “Do you love my sister? I expect you do. You would not have climbed the pine tree and nearly killed yourself for anyone else.”

  Now I was flustered. Pilar didn’t seem to expect an answer.

  “I’m a few years younger and perhaps not as pretty, but you should have waited for me. If I were your wife you’d have a happier life.”

  “You’re not old enough to have those thoughts.”

  “Lucinda sees none of the good things about you, Charlie.”

  “It’s a very difficult situation.”

  “You mean because Lucinda was bitten by the trouser snake?”

  “Pilar!”

  “I’m just repeating what Evangeline said.”

  We continued along the boardwalk in silence.

  “You’ve been to San Francisco before, Charlie,” she stated. “My mother said you would find your way into a den of depravity and never return to Monterey.”

  “Your mother has a low opinion of me.”

  “What is a den of depravity? Did you go to one when you were here before?”

  “Dens of depravity are where men drink whiskey and lose their money gambling. At least, that’s what your father tells me,” I said, hoping that would shut her up.

  “From listening to my mother and sisters, I think there’s more going on than gambling and drinking. Are you telling me the whole story?”

  “No.”

  “What did you do the last time you were here?”

  “I visited my mother’s grave,” I replied, praying that would end her inquiries.

  It didn’t.

  “Do you miss her?”

  It was on the tip of my tongue to tell her that was none of her business, but her shining face was so open and happy I couldn’t bring myself to be rude.

  “Yes, Pilar, I miss her. Without a mother, you don’t have anyone to show you love and kindness. You don’t really have a place in the world.”

  Pilar spun around once more and smiled brightly.

  “Someone should tell my mother she must show her children love and kindness. She has never been informed.”

  “You know too much for your own good,” I replied. “Now let’s find the things we came for and get back to the church. Your father is waiting.”

  “Of course, Charlie. You and my father are men. You always know what you’re doing. So where are we going?”

  We walked into a shopping district and found a bank where I used almost all my savings to buy thirteen gold coins. Then we went to a dry goods store that sold watches. The watch I bought wasn’t anything special. It had scrolling on the back but it wasn’t made of silver or gold. Still, it took all the money I had left.

  Afterward, I let Pilar lead me around while she took in the sights. Her curiosity and interest in the world were nearly as wide ranging as Don Topo’s. Pilar wanted to know why I had bought the coins and the watch, but I kept that information to myself. She had a hundred other questions too, but I ignored her as best I could.

  When we returned, both Don Topo and Lucinda were waiting in a church alcove, sipping wine. From the redness of Topo’s face, I suspected quite a lot of wine. I presented him with the tin case watch.

  “For you, Jefe. For all that you have done for me. I will always be in you debt, and hope I will always remain in your service.”

  He looked at me with curiosity, then took it. He smiled.

  “May our association always be a wonderful thing for both of us.”

  Before Don Topo stuck me in this awful mess that had been the case.

  I turned and handed Lucinda the coins.<
br />
  “Why are you handing me money, you moron?” Lucinda said with her usual gentle demeanor.

  Don Topo suddenly clapped his hands together, and then held them out with the palms up in amazement. “Of course! It’s a tradition in Spain for the groom to give the bride’s father a watch and to give the bride thirteen coins. What the watch symbolizes escapes me, but the coins indicate the groom will always provide for his bride. Charlie took the trouble to ask the priest back in Monterey what tradition calls for. You are marrying a man who shows you and your family great respect.”

  I spoke quickly, trying to get out my prepared speech without stuttering. “I will never let you down or bring dishonor to your name, Don Topo.”

  It sounded awkward, but I had managed to blurt it out pretty much the way I intended. I felt better for having said it.

  I had a speech ready for Lucinda as well, but when I turned toward her, the icy look in her pale blue eyes was like flying knives—and my mind went blank.

  Lucinda regarded us for a moment then said in a mocking whisper, “That was a very touching speech, Charlie. Since he thinks so highly of you why don’t the two of you get married?”

  At that moment, one of the altar boys popped into the room and announced they were ready for us.

  I don’t remember much of the ceremony, other than that I had to kneel down, get up and kneel back down countless times. There were many incantations said over us. As it was all in Latin, I understood little of it. The heavily scented candles made my eyes burn, making the ceremony seem like it lasted forever.

  Finally, it was over, and dinner was served for the wedding party.

  At one point I caught her fingering the coins I had given her. She saw me watching her, and for once she looked at me with curiosity rather than malice.

  “Why didn’t you make me shoes?” she asked, referring to the Spanish wedding tradition of the groom making a pair of shoes for the bride.

  “I didn’t have time,” I replied, wanting to add that she had gotten knocked up so suddenly it threw everybody’s schedule into disarray. There seemed no reason to get slapped, so I bit my tongue.

  “You didn’t have time? Perhaps you didn’t have anyone who cares enough to teach you?” she asked in a taunting voice, her smile as cold as mountain sleet.

  I breathed in all the despair the world had to offer.

  “You’re right,” I replied with a weak smile and a sinking heart. “I didn’t have anyone who cared enough to teach me.”

  Lucinda walked behind a table and picked up a set of three books. She handed them to me. “Here is your wedding present from me. They are reading primers, and a book on addition and subtraction. They were written for small children, so you may understand them. You are to learn both of these subjects. It won’t do for me to be married to an illiterate. At least learn how to write your name so that when I tell you to sign something, you can do it without embarrassing me.”

  After the wedding party, Lucinda and I took a carriage to a nearby hotel. Don Topo had felt it would cause less comment if she and I had separate rooms at a hotel rather than having me staying with him at the Mission.

  As we made our way through the hotel doors, I caught a glimpse of our reflections in the window. With her strong Castilian face, striking blue eyes, and erect carriage, Lucinda was a breathtaking woman. Her well-defined breasts had started to swell from the pregnancy, and her face glowed. I looked at myself, and all I could see were the pimples on my cheeks and a suit that didn’t fit.

  “Tiburcio made a mistake by not returning to Monterey,” I said, with as much kindness as I could manage. The strange thing was, I meant it. She was so beautiful it was hard to get the words out.

  Lucinda looked at me with surprise, and then her eyes narrowed. Perhaps she didn’t credit my sincerity, for when she spoke her voice was venomous. “By the time I get done with you, Charlie Horn, I won’t be the only one who wishes Tiburcio had taken me with him.”

  Then she turned on her heels and marched off to her room.

  It was an awful end to a terrible day. I supposed there may have been a sadder couple on their wedding night, but it was hard to imagine.

  Scent of Tears