Serafina's Stories

by Rudolfo Anaya

  “Perhaps you need another story,” Serafina said.

  “And the wager is the same?”

  “Yes. If the story pleases you, you free a prisoner?”

  The Governor smiled. Perhaps it was not the magic of the young woman’s storytelling that had allowed him to rest last night. Perhaps he had already decided to release the first prisoner, to help bind the wounds between the Spanish settlers and the natives. Well, tonight he would find out.

  “Very well,” he said.

  He took the large chair opposite her and Serafina began her story.

  FOUR

  Miranda’s Gift

  Miranda lived with her father, don Ezequiel, in a large and comfortable house near the banks of the Pecos River. Don Ezequiel was a merchant who was often away on business, so Miranda spent much time alone.

  Her closest neighors were the widow doña Benina and her daughter, Petra. The widow and her daughter were very poor, and Miranda often took them gifts of food. One day when Miranda was visiting them, doña Benina took her aside.

  —You’re fifteen now, and you don’t have a mother to take care of you—no one to comb your hair and teach you the things young women need to know. If your father married me, I would be like a mother to you.

  Miranda mentioned this to her father, and he thought it was a good idea. He married doña Benina, and on the day of the wedding he gave Miranda a calf. To the stepsister, Petra, he gave a goat.

  Doña Benina planned a big party. She invited all the neighbors. Then she pressured don Ezequiel to kill Miranda’s calf for the feast.

  To please his new wife he killed the calf. Then he sent Miranda to the river to wash the stomach and intestines. When the tripe was washed, they would cook it with hominy to make a stew of menudo.

  Sadly, Miranda went to the river, and as she was washing the tripe a large gold fish rose out of the water and grabbed it. The fish swam away with it.

  Miranda ran along the bank, crying. She knew her stepmother would punish her for the loss. Finally exhausted, she sat down to rest.

  —Dear Virgin, please help me.

  As she was praying a woman appeared. Miranda looked up to see the kindest face she had ever seen. The woman wore a plain dress and a blue serape covered her shoulders.

  —Why are you crying, my daughter? she asked softly.

  Miranda explained what had happened.

  —I can help you, said the woman. Walk farther down the river. There you will find a hut with an old man on a bed, a child in his cradle, and a pot with food on the stove. Beat the old man with a broom and throw him out of the hut. Spank the child and throw dirt on the pot of beans. Spread ashes throughout the house. When you have done this look in the bucket on the table and there you will find the tripe you lost.

  Miranda was surprised this beautiful woman would tell her to do such dreadful things, but she went down the river until she found the hut.

  She went in and found the old man and the child.

  I can’t beat this old man and spank this innocent child, she thought. I have been taught to respect the elders and to care for children. Perhaps the woman in the blue serape is testing me.

  So she made the bed for the old man so he would be comfortable, and she cleaned the baby’s cradle. She put water in the pot of beans so they wouldn’t burn. She swept the entire cottage until it was spotless. Then she looked in the bucket, and there was the tripe the fish had stolen.

  When she reached for the bucket a star of gold suddenly appeared on her forehead. Miranda wasn’t aware of the star and returned home.

  When doña Benina and her daughter Petra saw Miranda returning, they first thing they noticed was the brilliance of the star.

  —Madre mía! cried Petra. What is that shining on her forehead?

  Doña Benina hurried out to ask Miranda how she received the star, and Miranda told her exactly what had happened. Doña Benina knew this was a special gift, but if her daughter Petra didn’t have a gold star, neither could Miranda. She took soap and water and tried to wash it off, but the more she scrubbed the brighter the star shone.

  Finally she took ashes and covered the star. Then she went to her husband and told him he must butcher Petra’s goat.

  —But we already have enough meat, replied don Ezequiel.

  —But you butchered Miranda’s calf. Why not my daughter’s goat? insisted doña Benina.

  To keep peace in the family don Ezequiel butchered the goat. Quickly doña Benina sent her daughter to the river to wash the goat’s intestines and stomach.

  Petra washed the tripe and waited for the gold fish to come and steal them. When the fish didn’t appear Petra threw the tripe in the river, then she went crying along the bank until she met the same woman Miranda had described.

  —My daughter, why are you crying? asked the lady in blue.

  —My mother sent me to wash the tripe and a fish stole them. If I don’t return with them my mother will kill me.

  The woman told her not to worry, and she gave Petra the same instructions she had earlier given Miranda.

  Petra hurried down the river until she came to the old man’s hut. She gave him a beating and threw him out of the house. She gave the baby a spanking and the threw dirt on the pot of beans. Then she went to the bucket.

  When she picked up the tripe an ugly green horn appeared on her forehead. She didn’t feel the horn and so she returned home.

  When she was near the house Miranda saw her coming.

  —Mother! Mother! she cried. Here comes Petra and she has a horn on her forehead.

  —Don’t lie! doña Benina answered. You’re just jealous because she has a star of gold like you.

  But when she stepped out the door she saw the ugly horn growing on Petra’s forehead. She was horrified.

  —Daughter! Daughter! What do you have on your forehead?

  Petra couldn’t see the horn. When she touched it she thought it was a star bigger and more beautiful that Petra’s.

  —I did exactly as you told me, she said. But when her mother held up a mirror Petra fainted.

  Her mother tried to scrub off the horn, but couldn’t. Then she tried cutting it, but the more she cut the bigger and greener and uglier it got.

  —It’s all your fault! doña Benina shouted at Miranda. You told us a lie!

  The stepmother beat Miranda and then went to tell her husband what had happened. She insisted that don Ezequiel punish Miranda by making her the kitchen maid. She dressed the poor girl in rags and made her wash all the pots and pans.

  After that they treated Miranda very badly, forcing her to do all the work in the kitchen. Each day she had to clean the fireplace, and as the days went by she grew dark with soot.

  That same year the king’s son turned eighteen, and the king decided he should be married. In order to find the most beautiful girl of the kingdom, the king invited all the rich people of the region to three days of feasting.

  Don Ezequiel and his wife were invited. Doña Benina ran to the village store to buy her daughter three of the most beautiful gowns she could find.

  Then she ordered Miranda to comb Petra’s hair and dress her for the first day of the fiesta.

  —May I go? asked Miranda.

  —Of course not, replied doña Benina. Look at you. You are dressed in rags and covered with soot. No one would pay attention to you.

  Don Ezequiel was sorry his daughter couldn’t go, but he dared not make his wife angry. That morning he had found a little spotted dog by the river, and he gave it to Miranda to keep her company.

  In the evening they went to the fiesta, leaving Miranda to finish the day’s chores. When she was done she sat with her dog by the fireplace and cried.

  —Don’t cry, the dog said. You are about to get a visitor.

  As he said this, the woman Miranda had met by the river appeared.

  —Why are you crying? she asked.

  —My stepmother keeps me in rags. She tells me I am ugly. I work hard, but I’m not allowed to go
to the king’s fiesta.

  —We’ll do something about that, the woman said. Go to the barn and bring me three mice and a pumpkin.

  When Miranda returned with the mice and pumpkin the woman splashed a magical water on her. Instantly Miranda was dressed in a lovely white gown fringed with silver. The woman placed a crown of flowers on Miranda’s head to hide the star of gold.

  But the most miraculous gift was a pair of perfectly shaped gold slippers for Miranda’s feet.

  When Miranda was ready the woman splashed the water on the pumpkin and it turned into a coach fit for a queen. Two of the mice turned into handsome white horses and the other became a coachman.

  —Now you can go to the king’s fiesta, the woman said. But you must return before midnight or something terrible will happen.

  Miranda arrived in great style at the king’s palace. When she entered the hall everyone turned to admire her. She was clearly the most beautiful young woman there, but no one knew who she was. The prince was so taken by her beauty he danced only with her.

  In a corner, Petra and her mother seethed with jealousy.

  As the clock was about to strike midnight Miranda raced out of the hall into the coach and was driven back home. When she arrived the woman splashed water on her. Miranda was once again a ragged, soot-covered kitchen maid. The three mice scurried away and the pumpkin lay by the door.

  The following day was the second day of the king’s fiesta, and again Miranda had to dress her sister for the ball. While Miranda was combing her hair Petra told her about the princess who had appeared at the dance. The prince had run after her, but she had disappeared.

  —I hope she doesn’t come tonight, said Petra. I intend to marry the prince.

  They went off, leaving Miranda with her little dog. Shortly thereafter the woman appeared and helped Miranda dress in a rose silk gown with silver fringe, and the same gold slippers.

  The moment she entered the hall the prince went to her side. He introduced her to his parents and she sat with them. All the guests wondered who she was. But as midnight approached Miranda ran out and rode her coach back home.

  Shortly thereafter her parents and Petra returned. The women were fuming because the prince had paid attention only to the young woman nobody knew.

  The third and last night of the king’s fiesta arrived. Petra and her mother locked Miranda in the kitchen and hurried off to the dance.

  Miranda and her little dog weren’t alone for long. The woman appeared with a blue gown with silver fringe and the gold slippers. Miranda looked more beautiful than ever as she mounted the fine coach.

  —Be back by midnight, the woman warned her.

  Upon seeing her, the prince immediately went to her. Everyone wanted to know who she was, but she revealed nothing. The prince danced with her all night.

  Miranda forgot the time until she saw her gown begin to change into rags. She bolted out of the dance hall for her coach, losing one of her gold slippers as she ran out the door.

  The coach had changed into a burro. She mounted the animal and rode away, losing the second slipper on the road.

  The prince ran after her, but he found only the gold slipper, which he put in his pocket.

  That night on the road home Miranda’s parents found the second slipper and took it with them.

  A few days later the prince announced that he was looking for the young woman who had lost the gold slipper. If the shoe fit, he would marry her.

  First he tried the shoe on all the rich young women of the realm, but the slipper fit none. Then the prince went from house to house until he came to don Ezequiel’s home.

  Doña Benina ran out to greet the prince and his servants.

  —The shoe belongs to my daughter, she said. See, we have the matching slipper. She is the girl you’re looking for. There is no need for her to try on the slipper.

  The prince looked at Petra’s green horn and shivered. He was sorry he had given his word to marry. He turned to look at Miranda, but since she was dressed in rags he didn’t recognize her.

  —Should we try the slipper on her? he asked.

  —Of course not, replied doña Benina. She’s just the cleaning girl.

  With this she grabbed Miranda and threw her into the kitchen. But the prince wasn’t satisfied. Perhaps he had seen something in Miranda’s eyes.

  —Take my daughter and marry her, doña Benina insisted.

  —Not today, said the prince. I’ll come back tomorrow with my parents.

  The next day the king and the queen, and the prince, and all their retinue returned in a grand coach. Doña Benina had dressed Petra in a fine silk dress, and she hid Miranda under the large tub used for kneading dough.

  —We have come for the young woman who owns the slipper, said the king.

  —That’s me, said a smiling Petra. See, I own the other slipper.

  She climbed into the coach. But the prince was still unhappy. They were about to leave when the little dog by the door began to growl.

  —Miranda is hidden under the tub, he seemed to say.

  One of the servants understood the dog. He called the prince and together they followed the dog to the tub.

  They lifted the tub and found Miranda. He asked her to try on the slipper, and the fit was perfect.

  —You are the princess who came to the dance, he said, surprised and pleased.

  He turned and told his servants to get Petra and her mother down from the coach. Doña Benina was very angry.

  —You’re making a mistake, she told the king and queen. Can’t you see this ragged, dirty girl is only a maid!

  She pulled Miranda away from the prince, took off the gold slippers, and threw her in the kitchen. Then she tried unsuccessfully to squeeze Petra’s feet into the slippers.

  Inside the kitchen the lady in the blue serape appeared to Miranda.

  —Maybe if we dress you up like a princess they will believe you, she said smiling.

  She took the plain straw broom and turned it into a comb which she used to comb Miranda’s hair. As she did so, Miranda’s rags turned into a beautiful blue gown.

  —Now I know who you are, she told the woman. You are the Virgin Mary and you have answered my prayers. How can I ever thank you?

  —You did so by not beating the old man in the hut. He is St. Joseph. And the baby is my son Jesus. The house you cleaned is their church. You are a good daughter. Now go and receive your just reward.

  Miranda stepped outside, and her beauty shone so bright it dazzled those who turned to see her.

  —You are the princess I have sought, said the prince. He took the gold slippers and placed them on her feet. Will you marry me? he asked.

  —Yes, Miranda replied. But I must take my father with me.

  Poor don Ezequiel was more than happy to get away from doña Benina and her daughter.

  So all rode to the castle where the prince and Miranda were married. The wedding feast lasted for days, and Miranda and the prince lived very happy together.

  As for the envious doña Benina and her daughter, no one knows what happened to them. Some say she is still trying to cut the ugly green horn off her daughter’s forehead.

  FIVE

  The Governor felt very relaxed when Serafina finished her story. Her soothing voice lent a special quality to the fairy tale. He remembered his mother telling him a version of the story.

  “I heard that story as a child,” he said, looking at Serafina. “The bad stepmother punishes the beautiful stepdaughter. It brought back a memory. My mother, may her soul rest in peace, used to tell me stories. Perhaps that’s where I acquired my passion for the old cuentos, and the romances that are so popular today.”

  He had to give the young woman credit. She could spin a story the way a spider spins a well-crafted web. As she told the story he was caught in its silky threads, captive to her voice and the rise and fall of her breath as she slowed the story then quickened it. He felt Miranda’s sadness, then her joy.

  “You are
an excellent storyteller,” he said. “But it’s late. You should be in bed.”

  He rose, walked to the door, and called Gaspar.

  “Yes, Your Excellency.”

  “Thank you for staying up late, Gaspar. It is time for the girl to retire.” The Governor turned to Serafina. “Good night. Thank you for sharing your gift of stories.”

  “Good night, Your Excellency,” she replied and followed Gaspar out of the room.

  The Governor warmed his hands at the fireplace. The glowing embers cast a soft light in the room.

  I have lost the bet again, he thought. But to hear Serafina’s stories was worth it. Too tired to make his way to his bedroom he lay on the sheepskin rug in front of the fireplace and covered himself with his coat.

  In a moment he was asleep, dreaming he saw himself as the young prince riding in a coach with Serafina. It was spring, and the apple blossoms filled the air with a sweet fragrance. The dream was so pleasant he felt giddy with happiness.

  He sat up and heard a rooster crowing, greeting the dawn. The room was cold. What did the dream mean? He got up quickly and threw wood on last night’s coals.

  Is she the daughter I never had? The thought startled him. Serafina was a Pueblo Indian, and he was Spanish. But it was not so far-fetched. Some of the women of the villa took Indian girls and raised them as their own.

  He opened the door and shouted for the guard. “Gaspar!”

  “Yes, Your Excellency?” replied the rumpled guard, jumping up from the chair where he had spent the night.

  “The girl?”

  “All is well, Your Excellency, I delivered her to jail as you commanded.”

  “Jail? But how stupid of me! The jail has little protection from the cold, and she’s in there with the other prisoners. No, this won’t do. How could I be so insensitive?”

  “What would you have me do, Your Excellency?” asked Gaspar.

  “You? Why, there’s nothing you can do. This is a task for doña Ofelia. You? You can have don Alfonso assemble the prisoners. Everything should be ready in one hour.”