by J. L. Jarvis
“Where is Carlos?”
Graciela looked up for moment, distracted. “Carlos? He’s just where he belongs.”
“Let me see him.”
Graciela smiled almost sympathetically. “You can’t be serious.” She turned her attention to her list. “Now, we have a wedding to plan.”
“I’m going to see him. I’ll find out where he is.” Ana went to her closet and pulled on some clothes. She came out as Graciela walked out of the room. The door closed. The key turned in the lock.
Outside Ana’s window, Eduardo walked through the gardens with Su Ling as she picked herbs for cooking. Ana wilted onto the settee.
She awoke some time later to the gentle stroke of a hand on her forehead, as her father had done when she was a child. She opened her eyes and looked up, half expecting to see him. It was her uncle Felipe, instead. Ana bolted upright.
“I did not mean to startle you.”
“I thought—I was dreaming.”
“Lying there, you looked so like your mother.”
“I wish I were with her.”
“Ana.”
He looked sympathetic. It was more than she had seen from him since she had arrived.
“I want to see Carlos.”
“My dear,” he began.
“Please.” With eyes red with tears, Ana watched and she waited.
“I want the best for you.”
“Please. Let me see him. Just once.”
Don Felipe shook his head. “You will see. Your life will be better this way.”
Felipe kissed her forehead. “Don Limón has been asking for you. I’ll send someone to help you get ready.” He paused at the door. “Don’t take too long.”
Ana stared out the window.
Carlos felt his shoulders and head hit the floor with a thud and a shattering pain. The last thing he heard was his name.
He felt hands under his arms and gripping his ankles. He could not move or resist. There were two, but the one at his head dropped one shoulder. The smell of stale tobacco smoke drifted by as the dragging resumed. His other shoulder hit the ground. His head bumped and bounced against dirt and stones. He dreamed he was in the lienzo, on the ground, his feet tangled in rope, a bull dragging him. He had to untangle his ankles. He had to. He called out for help. He could not make a sound. He tried. There was no one to hear him.
A fist hit his temple. It was silent and black.
He woke in the night with a weak moan. “Carlos? Pobrecito, what did you do?”
“What?” was all he could say.
“It’s me, Paco.”
“Paco?” Carlos thanked God. He knew Paco. Carlos tried to look up at him, but both eyes were too swollen.
“What happened?”
“You tell me. Whatever it was, they beat the crap out of you for it. Here, drink this fast, before anyone sees you.”
Carlos put a bottle to his face and tried to drink, but he could not make his lips fasten around the top of the bottle. Paco guided the bottle so as much could go into his mouth as possible. He made a good try, but more spilled down his face and neck than was swallowed.
“Someone’s coming.” Paco took back the bottle and left. Carlos closed his eyes and lapsed into half dreams and nightmares.
During the night, he heard voices, but could not hear what they said. He drifted in and out of the strangling embrace of his pain, throbbing pain. A few years back, a bull stepped on his leg and broke it. But that was one spot, only one injury. Now every muscle and bone felt as though that bull and its offspring had stomped on him. Swords of pain skewered his skull. Pounding spasms filled the intervals. He fought to wake up, but sleep overtook him.
The sun hurt his eyes even though they were swollen to slits, but his arms would not shield him. A guard flung open the cage that confined him and yanked him out by the arm.
“Time to work!”
Carlos opened both eyes, but could only see out of one. The guard shoved him toward a small group of fellow insubordinates who cowed under the fist of hacienda justice. They walked in a line to the fields. Carlos limped. His legs were weak, but not broken. The dry dirt he kicked up stung the rope burns on his ankles. Each shallow gasp thrust sharp pains through his sides and back. Without warning, he spewed bile and blood. He tottered and tumbled.
Carlos woke in his cage. How much later, he did not know. It could have been hours or days. Paco brought him some water, which he managed with effort to get down.
He was huddled in a ball in a cage just big enough to encase a man standing, with no room to take a more than a step in either direction. He was eating his meal, a single tortilla, when Padre Galvan arrived. “Good day, Carlos.”
Carlos looked up with a face too bruised and puffy to produce an expression. “Miguel.” He looked away and kept eating.
“What has happened to you?” asked the padre.
Ignoring the question, Carlos asked, “How is Ana?”
“She’s fine. She’s in her room, in the grand house.”
“She’s not hurt?”
“No,” said the priest.
“Tell her I’m well—that I’m not hurt.”
The padre nodded. “She’s going to marry don Limón.”
Carlos paused, then bit into his tortilla.
“You have to forget her.”
Carlos finished his water and stared straight ahead.
“It’s not too late. You can give her up, get your life back.”
“And Ana? When will she get her life back?” He stared at the coating of dust on hard earth.
“It will hurt her at first. But it’s for the best.”
“For the best,” Carlos scoffed.
Padre Galvan stooped down and leaned closer. “Carlos. You can’t win this.”
Carlos closed his eyes and steeled himself to the pain as he gingerly shifted position.
“Miguel, you have given your life to a faith based on love. What makes you believe Ana could be happy without it?”
“There are many kinds of love.”
Carlos glared at the padre and said, “Yes, and one is the root of all evil.”
“Some things cannot be changed.”
“Like right and wrong.” Carlos barely looked toward him.
“She belongs in the grand house, not down here with you. You must know that.”
“I know that she loves me.”
“Why can’t you see that it isn’t so simple?”
“Why? Why isn’t it simple?”
Padre Galvan shook his head.
Carlos said, “No one would be harmed if we ran off together. You could help us get away.”
“No, my friend.”
It was painful to move, but Carlos lifted his head to look into the eyes of his friend, of his priest. “What is it you’re not telling me? You forget how well I know you.”
Padre Galvan was silent and still for a long, difficult moment. Then he exhaled and spoke in nearly a whisper. “I represent God and the church. Don Felipe is in debt. He owes the church money. I was sent to watch over the church’s investment.”
“You would force that sweet girl to marry an old goat to protect an investment?”
“The church’s investment.”
Carlos glared, but the rage in his eyes was encased within swelling.
The priest said, “It was business, my friend, and you got in the way.”
Carlos turned away, wincing in pain. “You know, I’ve been trying to figure out how they found us. How could they have known we were there? People were dancing and having fun. Who would have thought twice if they saw us standing together? But you were there, weren’t you? Ana bared her poor, trusting soul to you, asking for help. And you walked away with our trust and went straight to the patron.”
Padre Galvan sounded resigned. “Not straight there. First I watched you go into the chapel.”
Ana looked with ringed shadowy eyes through her window, which was nailed shut to lock it, like the door to her room. Her hair was matt
ed. Her clothing was wrinkled.
Outside, Eduardo walked into the garden and sat. She had seen so little of him lately. How she missed him. She rapped on the window to get his attention. As she did, his attention was fixed elsewhere. His reason for being in the secluded corner of the garden became clear when Su Ling came into view with a basket for gathering herbs. From ground level, no one would see them. Su Ling flew to his arms. They embraced. How happy they looked. No one troubled Eduardo for loving someone out of his class and his race. But he was a man. He would not have to marry until it was his choice. He would not be forced from the arms of his lover.
Where was he? Where was Carlos? The torment came in waves until she thought she would break from the pounding and aching. Then her mind would lapse into a numbness, which did not last long enough.
Eduardo pressed his mouth to Su Ling’s in a kiss that consumed them. Their moment of bliss would be brief. Eduardo urged Su Ling back a few feet to the brick wall, half concealed by a flowering plant. She saw only his elbows and hands pressed against the rough brick; the rest of his body was lost in lush foliage.
Su Ling wrapped her legs about his. Ana turned away, her face flushed. She could still feel Carlos inside her. He’d been beaten, and she had to find him. Eduardo would help her. There was no one else.
Damp curls hung loosely upon Eduardo’s forehead as he emerged from his place in the garden. Su Ling held his hand and looked at him, adored him. Her eyes darted toward the house as though someone had called her. Eduardo glanced down and checked his trousers to make sure they were fastened. Su Ling gave Eduardo a hasty kiss and ran off. An instant later, she returned, grabbed her basket of herbs, and ran off. Eduardo walked out of view.
Ana turned away and sank into the settee. How could she marry and let don Limón touch her like that, put his mouth on her body? The thought sickened her. She had to find Carlos.
Ana sat with her ear pressed to the crack in the door. She heard footsteps. He gave an instruction to one of the housemaids. “Eduardo!” she whispered. A little louder, “Eduardo!”
Chapter 10
“Ana?” his voice came through the door.
“Eduardo, please help me.”
“What is it? Open the door.”
“They’ve locked me inside.”
“Locked you in? Who?”
“Don’t you know?”
He had been out all night. He listened, stunned to hear what had happened. He disappeared for a few minutes and returned with a key. Ana guessed it was Su Ling who helped him secure it, but he worked so to keep this from Ana that she chose not to inquire.
“Help me, Eduardo. Help Carlos.”
After she’d told him her side of what had happened, he said, “I’ll go see what I can do.” He put his hand over hers. “Are you all right? Do you need anything?”
His hands felt so warm. “Just to see Carlos. He might need a doctor. No, we can’t trust our doctor. Can you find the curandera?”
While the others were at dinner, the key turned in the lock. Ana ignored the familiar rattling of the tray.
“Just leave it on the table,” she said from her seat at the window.
“Señorita, I have brought you something.”
“No thank you. I’m really not hungry.”
“Eduardo sent me—”
Ana looked. “Su Ling?”
Su Ling lifted the cloth from the tray. With a sweet smile, she held out a small bundle of clothing.
Ana unwrapped the bundle. Before she could ask, Su Ling said, “Change into these. Hurry. We must go before I am missed.”
Ana and Su Ling listened by the door as footsteps approached. She looked at her bed, stuffed with pillows, and held her breath. The footsteps passed. It was quiet. The two slipped out into the hallway and headed toward the back stairs to the kitchen. Su Ling peeked around the corner. The kitchen was buzzing with people serving the next course of the meal. Su Ling and Ana slipped past the doorway to the outside door. Su Ling opened the door and sent Ana outside. Ana looked back to thank her. Su Ling nodded and closed the door quickly.
In the darkness, a whisper of “Ana” set her at ease. “Are you ready?” Eduardo asked as he pulled the rebozo around Ana’s face. His eyes lingered as he smoothed the fold against her skin. “Come now. I’ll explain on the way.”
When they were a good distance from the house, Ana whispered, “Have you seen him? Is he all right?”
“He will be. He’s hurt. When you see him, don’t show your alarm.”
Ana held her shawl to her chest. Her jaw tightened. She tried to feel brave. Eduardo led her as far as a building, where he hid in the shadows. “You must go on alone from here. The guard knows you’re coming. He’ll look the other way. If anyone comes, you were sent by the curandera.”
“You found her?”
Eduardo handed her a small cotton sack. “These are trompillo leaves. Have him suck on these. They will calm him. This jar of tea is for pain. Put this paste on the wounds.”
Ana listened frantically. They looked around a corner. “He’s there—in that cell.”
Ana stifled a gasp with her hand. It was a cage with heavy bars. She looked at Eduardo.
“Be strong,” he told her.
Ana took a breath. Eduardo nodded toward the cage that served as a jail.
“I’ll wait here.”
She walked cautiously toward the cage, where Carlos lay, slumped over. He barely looked like her Carlos. A guard sitting nearby looked at her and, with a nod, turned away. Ana rushed to kneel beside the cell. She reached a trembling hand between the iron bars and rested it gently on his shoulder. He flinched and moved away.
“Carlos.”
He turned slowly. Swollen eyes peered up at her. Anguish gripped her throat, but she swallowed and tried to speak calmly. Her voice sounded soothing as she reassured him. “I’m here. I’m going to help you.”
He looked through a painful fog. “Who is it?”
“It’s me, Ana.”
“Ana?” He dragged himself closer. “I thought you were an angel, but I hurt too much to be dead.”
”Drink this,” she told him. He fought to sit up. “It will help with the pain.”
Obediently, he drank. His chest and his arms were all covered with knotted bruises and cuts. Ana took out the paste and spread it over each wound. Carlos clenched his teeth. Silent tears trailed down his temples. She rolled him to his side and smoothed healing medicine on the rest of his wounds. She put his shirt on him and helped him lie down.
“Rest now, my love.” She brushed the black hair from his misshapen face as she whispered, “I’d give you my strength if I could.”
His arm jerked as he tried to lift it to reach for her, but the limb was useless. Ana put her hand in his. His brown coal eyes sought hers. She smiled through her tears.
His words were labored. “Mi amor…”
“Shh…I know,” she whispered.
The first show of sun cast dim light through the window as Ana awoke. A door closed. A breeze blew in through her window.
The door. Ana opened her eyes. She had not heard the key. It might still be unlocked. She rushed over and touched the handle. It turned. It was open, and outside the hallway was empty. She threw on some clothes and peeked once more through a crack in the door to the hallway. Down the back stairs she hurried, and on through the kitchen. The kitchen workers stopped to watch, but made no effort to stop her. She was a sight with her hair blowing loosely behind as she ran.
She stood gasping for breath at the cell. It was empty. The train. She had heard it blowing steam from the hacienda’s private platform, but had not given it thought until now. Ana ran. Don Felipe and Padre Galvan were on the platform, talking with the hacienda administrator, don Jesús. Ana ran across the flat dry land to the train before she was spotted. Don Jesús started after her, but don Felipe grabbed his arm. “She’s here now. Let her have her farewell.”
She ran from one car to the next, calling his name.
<
br /> “Ana.”
His weakened voice came from inside a stock car. She looked through the wooden planks. “Carlos?”
“Ana, I’m in here.”
He was tied to some boards on the side of the car. He reached his fingers between the wooden planks. Ana clasped hold.
“Where are they taking you?” She peered into the dark car. Stripes of sunlight came in through the wooden plank sides and fell in stripes on his face. She knew him more by his voice than what she could see.
“I don’t know.”
“I’ll come after you.”
“No. Just tell Eduardo. He’ll know what to do.”
The train started to move.
“No.” Ana tried to hold on, but the train crept forward. She tried to keep up walking, then running beside it.
“I’ll find out where you are.”
“No. Stay here.”
As the train gathered speed, she lifted her hem and ran faster.
“I’ll come back for you, Ana.”
The train pulled ahead. “But what if you can’t,” Ana whispered.
“Oh, he won’t, I assure you.” Strong arms clamped her waist as the train picked up speed.
“Where’s my uncle?”
“He had work to attend to.”
“It’s all for the best, Ana,” said Padre Galvan.
She tried to wriggle from his grasp, but he would not let go until Ana jabbed the heel of her boot back against his shin. She ran.
“Ana,” called Eduardo, as he ran from the house.
Padre Galvan stood and watched her run into Eduardo’s arms, where she stayed until the train was a puff of fading black smoke in the distance.
“Don’t worry,” he said, stroking her hair.
Graciela watched from the veranda as she fingered the household keys that hung by a cord from her waist.
Ana closed the bedroom door behind her. She would wait until dark, and then go after Carlos, while everyone else was at dinner. Her door was left unlocked now. There was no need to confine her. The danger was gone. They had neatly rid themselves of a nuisance, and ruined her life. And now they would watch her—not just Graciela and Felipe, but the servants. Which ones had orders to watch and report her every move? Ana stayed in her room to arouse less suspicion. They expected her to be upset, so she would not disappoint. She would sulk in her room and make plans. Night came slowly. It was torture to wait and wonder where Carlos was now.
