And you wan hear, compadre, that that day that we would find our mother Chupa never come oh tis sorrowful to tell. Oh is it all sorrow that I have to sing? All losing and ahunting? No because you will remember that you’ve heard the joy part of my song, remember? How much joy part would there be in yours, Señor, Señorita, if you was to sing your song to me? You wan hear. Yet for a little while we went asinging on and huntin. But we kept our eye out for posses just like I had during the days of my own excape, as I have told you about. If somebody had tried to capture my brother I would have killed them. And sometimes we was sure that certain people was trying to capture Tomasso. When they would ask what school you go to, niño little boy, then we would go away before they could espect an answer. Then we would hide in cotton gins if twas wintertime and if we was down in the cotton country. And once in a cotton town Tomasso cried out Hondo! and run away into a crowd and I could not find Tomasso and was scared that he had run away to Hondo that had finally made the hole big enough and had excaped; but in a little while Tomasso come on back to me sad and said it twas not Hondo. Then I was ascared for some days because I knew that Tomasso was alooking for his Hondo and hopin that he would excape and come and find him with the curl of hair. But then the scared-ness passed away and back come our sweet days, seem like now that they did not ever happen just perfect days of sweetness maybe was a dream I do not know sometimes now as I sing my song of days of yore.
11
Hondo’s Song
BUT ONE DAY THERE was Hondo standing on a corner in a town of a green bayou. I heard a cry Hondo! and twas Tomasso running to a big gray man. Tomasso! the man called back. I dug the hole finally big enough! Hondo Hondo! cried Tomasso. Where is the curl of Sweet Janine’s hair? asked Hondo. And when Tomasso pulled out the Bull Durham sack and pulled out the curl of little hair, the gray man seized up Tomasso and whirled him in the air, twas a joyful reunion. I was ahunting you, said Hondo, at the same time as I am going on my way to find Sweet Janine’s sister Ethelreda Johansson, they are Swedish people. Bohunks? I asked. No, said Hondo, the Missoura jailer Sam Policheck is a Bohunk. I told him said Tomasso. Hondo, this is Arcadio my half blood brother. I am Hondo Holloway, Hondo Holloway says and shook my hand and I fell down alittle from his crushing squeeze and said my God what strength. I am on my way to make amends to Sweet Janine’s big sister, said Hondo to me. Because you did not know your own strength I says to Hondo Holloway. I told him, says Tomasso. Tis a terrible thing when somebody does not know their own strength, I says. Then Tomasso asked Hondo where was Old John. Sick in the Missoura jail he may now be dead, Hondo told Tomasso. Very tired from helping dig the hole for you and for me. Tomasso cried. Do not cry, said Hondo, God will bless Old John for helping you and me to excape, do not fear, said soft kind Hondo Holloway.
I guess I never met a sweeter man than Hondo. It was one of the presents that Tomasso give to me. Got his name from the arroyo he said was borned near Arroyo Hondo in New Mexico, grew up with the Mescans of Nuevo Méjico but was of gringo parents name of Holloway. Hondo had a sweet face of hair, face covered with a soft gray beard and two gray eyes asparkling out, Hondo was a gray soft furry man. And of a deep low voice that you would not think would ever raise up against anybody yet he killed Sweet Janine with’s love. Because he did not know his own strength. Hondo said he was hunting for Sweet Janine’s sister Ethelreda Johansson so that he could present to her the curl of little hair and beg her to forgive him for the accidental death of Sweet Janine, accidental even though he was thrown into the Missoura jail to stay for his lifetime for murder of Sweet Janine—the word that Hondo told me that they used: homicidio. Hondo took out an almost rubbed-out picture of two women, one a beautiful girl of streaming hair and the other a great big woman with a big head and arms, and grande. The big grande woman will not forgive you Hondo, I said. It’s just not in her I told him you can see in the picture that it’s just not in her. Well I have to try, said Hondo. I spent some time digging with Old John—my strength was weak—a hole big enough to excape out of the Missoura jail so that I could ask the forgiveness of Sweet Janine’s sister, and Old John give his life, looks like it’s going to be, for it. I cannot rest until I do, I will not have no peace, no inner peace until I come before Janine Johansson’s sister Ethelreda. Which is a hard name for a Mescan to say, Ethelreda, you wan hear.
Why don’t we all go together since we are all ahunting for people, I says, Tomasso and me for our madre Chupa and me for my father Hombre and sometimes for the Show, you for your dead sweetheart’s sister. But are we all going in the same direction? asked Hondo. I have been traveling northwest. In what part of the country did you murder Sweet Janine, I asked. Please do not use that word Hondo begged me, but I do not remember since I was blacked-out in my wild strength of loving Sweet Janine and I run out of whatever state it was in such blindness after I saw what I had done. But, said Hondo, I have long had a hunch through many many dreams of Sweet Janine that her sister could be found in the Northwest somewhere. How did the posse catch you I asked Hondo, for you were at large as I was and had a posse—ridiculous as it was, composed of Shanks and a mean little Dwarft—I had a posse huntin for me, too; how did they get you? That is another story Hondo said. I had such visions in my dreams or even suddenly when I was awake of Sweet Janine. She was in a field of bluebonnets all in a white dress ablowing. But you should be going toward the Southwest, said I to Hondo Holloway, for there is where the bluebonnets bloom. In Texas, my home. But I have dreamt of Sweet Janine’s sister Ethelreda standing in the Northwest. What did you see about the Northwest in your dream, I asked. Maybe I can help you I have been in almost every town since I have been at large. I don want talk about it right now, says Hondo and when he patted me on the back I went over to one side from the blow even though he was apatting me, because he did not know his own strength. Maybe you should see a Medium, Una Médium, I suggested to Hondo, a Medium could show you about the visiones that you had of Sweet Janine and could help you get a message. Twas Una Médium in the Show that people paid a dollar to, to get a message from los muertos the dead ones. Was she a gypsy, said Hondo. I don know, said: she was under twenty-seven veils and her name was Orisana. At’s a gypsy, says Hondo, sounds like to me. Well under the twenty-seven veils, I don know, I says. But I do know that one night man from a town come after her with a shotgun because said got a message from his first wife when Orisana promised message from his second. Shanks had to put Orisana behind locked doors where she cried out how could I help it it’s not my problem that he kept marrying women named Louise, wrong one answered, how the fuck could I help it if everybody’s named Louise? Where is Orisana, Hondo asked me. Know where can I find this Medium? I would pay her anything. I have saved up quite a bundle from the little Savings and Loan. What is a bundle? I asked. Well quite a whole lot, Hondo said. From the little Savings and Loan Bank in some town, I can’t remember. Maybe it was in Janine’s town, I says, where you accidentally murdered her. Please not to use that word, asked Hondo. You took some money from the little bank, you robbed the little Savings and Loan? I asked Hondo. Something similar to that, answered Hondo. But that is a sin and you will have to return the money, I told Hondo. I will never be able to do that, said Hondo, because I buried most of it in the ground under the Missoura jail, in a baitbox. You was always adiggin in the Missoura jail I says to Hondo. But now you’ll have to leave the buried money to God. God and Jesucristo’ll have to dig for it. And Old John, added Hondo, who is a very rich man. And locked up in a jail, and dying, I says, and cain’t dig anymore. Is that rich? I says. But if you would like, I would go as a servant of God and Jesucristo to the Missoura jail and by night help you dig up the Savings and Loan so that you could return it to where you sinfully took it if you could remember the town. Then you would be forgiven and freed from the Missoura jail, confessing to the jailer Policheck. No, Hondo told me, that would do no good, although I appreciate the offer, because I was not in jail for the Savings and Loan but because of the acc
idental death of Sweet Janine. Oh my God I am all mixed up, I says. I am not able to figure out about the Savings and Loan. Was it before the death of Sweet Janine or after? How could it be after since I was grabbed at once by the police and thrown into jail, says Hondo. Where was all the Savings and Loan, I asked when the police grabbed you. Hidden all over me, explained Hondo. It was Old John that had the baitbox to put it in. Where was Old John, I asked. Already in the jail. I’m all mixed up, I says, Hondo. So am I, says Hondo. Anyways, he says, I brought quite a bit of the Savings and Loan through the hole of excape. So where is the Medium that can get a message from Sweet Janine? I will pay her anything. Escuse my asking, Hondo, I says, but where is the Savings and Loan? Hidden, says Hondo. Hidden safely against my groins. Not safely, I says. That is the first place La Médium goes. What for? asked Hondo. To help you to get the message I says. So where is she? asked Hondo again. Orisana? I says. La Médium? I don know, I says, where to find the Show. If you would help me hunt for the Show then we could find Orisana—quizás perhaps she may still be with the Show I don know. Some days I think I will come back to it but then I do not even know where is the old Show. You need a Medium too, said Tomasso. To get a message where the Show is. But the Medium and the Show are in the same place—if they are anywhere in this world any longer, I said. And we don even know where that is says Hondo, listen we are huntin for too much I’m all mixed up. I thought we were looking for my mother, said pore little Tomasso. Well I will help you hunt for the Show, Arcadio, says Hondo, and that of course includes the Medium, but only if the Show is in the same direction as Ethelreda Johannson, which is northwest. O.K. I says, who knows but what the Show is not in that direction. And the Medium, added Tomasso. And since we don know which direction to go anyway, because we don know where anybody is that we are ahuntin…let’s go northwest, says Hondo.
So that is how we all went off together in the same direction, Tomasso and Hondo Holloway and me. I was sure there was a posse out ahuntin for Hondo so we kept out an eye. Jesucristo always something to keep out an eye for, either for somethin you’re ahuntin or for something huntin you, my God what is this life what is this world? You wan hear? But somewhere on the way, in some town, Hondo pointed to a sign that read GLORIA OX MEDIUM GET A MESSAGE FROM THOSE GONE BEFORE YOU. That would be Sweet Janine I says to Hondo, gone before you. And with some help from you, I says to myself but not so’s Hondo could hear. If you could speak to Sweet Janine through Gloria Ox the Medium then you would no longer have to hunt for her sister but could make amends direct to Sweet Janine, I told Hondo. Or through Gloria Ox, said Hondo. Already I see that you have your mind quite a bit on the Medium more than the message, I said to Hondo. I am somewhat acquainted with these Mediums because of esperiences in the past, I was remembering of course Orisana in the Show, under twenty-seven veils. Sometimes they look so pretty with the veils that a customer would seek the message of the Medium and forget, until later, what was the real message that he had come for—of those gone before you, los muertos. Until afterwards when La Médium had satisfied the customer’s lonesomeness and vanished. You mean fucked the customer instead of putting the customer in touch with los muertos the deceased? asked Hondo. Sí, I says. And rolled him. I am very lonely and have not put it into a woman for some time, Hondo told me. Well I hope the Medium Gloria Ox is not going to look too pretty, you might get the messages mixed up, I said. Well, if the Medium was pretty I would have to think twice, said Hondo to me, because I badly need both messages. Well pay some attention to the veils, the veils can hide an old trout, I says to Hondo. My God and Jesucristo you should have seen what was revealed when Orisana lifted some of her twenty-seven veils. What was it? asked Hondo. An old trout—una trucha vieja. Well, answered Hondo, in my condition an old trout don’t sound too bad. If that’s what you want, I told him. An old trout.
Well, Hondo was so loco for noticias of Sweet Janine—and for some lifting of the veils, too, that he right away showed his Savings and Loan to Gloria Ox or what I believe is that Gloria Ox right away detected it hidden in his groins and Gloria Ox told Hondo that to get the message he would have to leave us and stay alone with her for seven days then maybe seven more; and so we said adiós to Hondo and Tomasso cried to lose his old jail friend and how he would miss touching the curl of little hair but I esplained the best I could; but pore little Tomasso cried that he could not comprende the ways of men about a woman and I said cállate muñeco quieten yourself little doll one day you will. Never mind, I said, as on we wandered, we will meet up again with Hondo Holloway when God and Jesucristo—and Gloria Ox—wants to bring us back together again; but that day never come which is what I soon will have to sing you, oh is it all sorrow that I have to sing? All losing and ahunting? No because you will remember that you’ve heard the joy part of my song, remember? How much joy part would there be in your song, Señor, Señorita, Oyente, if you was to sing your song to me? You wan hear.
But oh my God and Jesucristo my brother was not ever going to see his old jail friend again my brother was not long for me to keep as I will now begin to sing to you. You wan hear? For on one night of darkest darkness, not one moon above, I woke up and I felt a cold against me and twas Tomasso cold against me, ‘gainst my breast, and did not speak and did not move. And then I run in the night with Tomasso cold to a hospital of a town had a red cross and when they took him from my arms they said who are you who is this child and took him from me. O Oyente I fell down on my knees and begged do not take Tomasso from me and cried to God and Jesucristo where are you? and O Oyente I am cryin now to still remember it do not take away Tomasso oh God heal him Jesucristo reach to him Tomasso touch him like you touched all those others that I read in the White Bible los ciegos y los sordos y los cojos the blind boy and the deaf boy and the lame and the even dead man that you brought up again, restore Tomasso! But the people took Tomasso and they would not let me in I do not know why. I slept on the doorstep all that night awaiting for the morning and for the people to come give me back Tomasso. And then they come and said who are you do you have any identification and I said I am this boy’s half brother our mother was the same her name is Chupa and we have been huntin for her. Where did you find the boy they said and I said at Deliverance Church asingin. What is wrong with him I asked and they said he is dead, muerto muerto; and I cried oh my God what from, dead? From a disease the people said and I said what was his disease. And they said hunger. Hunger they said: O do not cry Oyente oh I hear you cry. I did not know, Oyente, that sweet Tomasso was so hungry that he died. I called out to the people he did not have the hunger he sung. But the people closed the door and would not give Tomasso back to me. And I laid all day back of a shed in the bushes and could not lift up my head and could not see I had fallen down blind and could not speak a word I had been struck down mudo.
When dark come I got up and knew what God and Jesucristo told me to do. I crawled to a window and saw through it under a light the pale brown body of Tomasso fair and beautiful in his blessed brownness that our mother give to him and I cried oh you Chupa madre madre where are you now? I stole with the help of God and Jesucristo the boy Tomasso’s body from the place they had him and run all through the night aholdin him against my breast, aspeakin over and over to cold Tomasso but you was not hungry no tenías hambre you was not hungry tell me that you was not hungry. Cause I fed you and I watched you eat and I heard you sing you sung; run all night aholding to my breast the pure Jesucristo cuerpo body of Jesus Tomasso the pure body that Jesucristo lived in I am sure. Maybe it was Jesucristo himself come and walked awhile with me, all through Kansas Alabama and Wyoming and then departed from my sight. Maybe twas Jesucristo looking like a Mescan-Jewish boy of twelve. Because one time you know that a stranger walked along the road with the two disciples and talked with them and even sat and ate with them and they thought something was different about the stranger and then it dawned on them it was the very Lord Jesus Jesucristo! And oh they was so full of joy because they had been blue since
Jesucristo had been gone. Tis in the Biblia Blanca you will find it there. Run all night to Deliverance Church in Norfork Virginia to the Reverence Carl C. Cane and delivered dead Tomasso to Deliverance Choir where first I found him singin and aclappin his brown hands. Oh God and Jesucristo! And oh that Choir sung, sung for the dead boy Tomasso come back home and oh they clapped their hands and wailed out and they wept like Jesuses friends wept at the foot of the cross and Deliverance Choir delivered sweet Tomasso up to Virgin’s Heaven.
Arcadio Page 7
