“You might talk to Thomas Bull. He used to own the San Augustin Ranch,” suggested Mr. Castillo. “He still owns some land up near the mountains. He’s usually looking for hired hands—especially now that the spring roundup is approaching. He also has some office jobs here in town.” He gave Ramon directions to Mr. Bull’s office. Ramon thanked Mr. Castillo and went to find Mr. Bull.
Mr. Bull turned out to be friendly, but a bit distracted. He struck Ramon as a man with a lot of irons in the fire, so to speak. Not only did he own a ranch, but he also owned several businesses around Mesilla and Las Cruces. He told Ramon to report to the ranch foreman the next day and if the foreman approved, Ramon could help with the roundup. That could lead to more work.
Ramon felt like he was walking on air as he started back to the boarding house.
As he passed the apothecary, he heard a shout. “What are you? Some kind of a bruja?”
Without thinking about it, Ramon drew his six-gun and ran to the door. Inside, a man with a beet-red face held up a finger at Fatemeh, who stood with her hands on her hips. “What’s going on here?” asked Ramon. Even without a star pinned to his shirt, he knew his voice and the gun carried the authority of a peace officer.
“That…that…woman…is calling me a cheat!”
“No,” said Fatemeh with an edge to her voice, “I said that some of these so-called elixirs and patent medicines do no good.” She looked at Ramon. “I told him I could make herbal remedies for him that would actually cure people but would cost him half as much. That’s when he started yelling and calling me a witch.”
“I do not cheat my customers,” said the man forcefully. He grabbed a bottle and held it up. “This tonic is guaranteed to cure the common cold.”
Ramon holstered his gun, then reached out and took the bottle. Pulling out the stopper, he took a whiff. The smell of the alcohol was so strong that it almost knocked him over. “That’ll make you feel better all right,” he said.
“There is no cure for the common cold,” insisted Fatemeh. “But there are herbal remedies that can relieve the symptoms until you get better.” She opened her mouth to continue, but Ramon held up his hand, cutting her off.
He placed the bottle on the counter and took Fatemeh by the elbow, leading her toward the door.
“Thanks, Deputy,” called the man from the counter. “I appreciate your help. That bruja is bad for business.”
Ramon turned on his heel and strode back to the counter. He grabbed the clerk by the collar and pulled him close. “Listen, Señor, you may not like the lady, but you damn well better not call her a witch again in my hearing. Comprende?”
“Understood,” said the man, nodding quickly.
Ramon let go of his shirt and turned around. “Let’s get out of here. It’s about time to meet the professor.”
Fatemeh nodded and the two left together.
From the way he dressed, Ramon expected the professor would be staying in a fine hotel. Instead, as Ramon and Fatemeh followed the professor’s directions, they found themselves walking into a very poor part of town. They passed a long building where several women leaned out of upstairs windows, wearing a lot of make-up and not much else that Ramon could tell. Fatemeh hurried him along until they found the professor’s lodgings—a run-down adobe rooming house. The owner showed them to Maravilla’s room.
The professor met them at the door. “I must apologize for the humility of my domicile,” said the professor. “However, since I have resumed—how shall I say—unfunded research, I must make every dollar stretch as far as I can.” He motioned for Ramon and Fatemeh to step inside the room.
There was a simple cot. The lobo was on the floor with several hatches open, exposing the inner clockwork mechanism. Blankets had been hung in one corner of the room, making the already tiny space much more cramped. The professor stepped toward the hanging blankets. “This is my darkroom,” he explained. “The photos from last night should be ready. Let’s see what I got.” He brought out two delicate glass photographs. “Nothing on this one but a field.” He shrugged and tossed it onto the bed. Then he looked at the other and smiled broadly. “Look, wolves!”
He handed the photograph to Fatemeh.
“Very good.” She passed the photo to Ramon. He could just make out some shapes that looked a little like dogs or wolves. The whole photograph was rather blurred and Ramon really couldn’t tell what the professor was so excited about.
Ramon felt a hand on his shoulder and he jerked, nearly dropping the photograph. He looked up and saw a worried frown on Fatemeh’s face. “There’s anger in your eyes,” she said.
“What?” Ramon set the photograph down on the bed next to the other one.
“You said it yourself last night, it’s not about the money,” she said slowly. “You really hate wolves. I can see it in the way you look at the photograph.”
Ramon grabbed his arm and quickly stepped out of the room and onto the boarding house’s unpainted, creaking porch. A few minutes later, Fatemeh appeared at his side. She put her hand on his arm. “It’s okay,” she said. “I just want to understand. Why do you hate the wolves?”
Ramon stood there for a long time, looking out into the street. Finally, he took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “When I was ten, I was walking home from school. I saw a mama wolf and her pups. I knew enough to stay away from them. I kept her in sight and I tried to edge around where she was so I could get where I was going. Then suddenly, another wolf grabbed me from behind and dragged me several feet. Finally it let me go and I ran away home. I thought I was going to die.” Ramon rolled up his shirtsleeve and showed Fatemeh the scars on his right arm where the wolf had latched on. “They were afraid I was going to lose the arm. Fortunately, it never got infected and it finally healed.”
“You must have been attacked by the she-wolf’s mate,” said Fatemeh knowingly.
“That’s what I always figured.” Ramon nodded. “However, I could never figure out why he attacked me.”
“He did it for the same reason you grabbed the apothecary. He thought you were threatening his pups and his mate.” She stepped around and looked Ramon in the eye. “That wolf could have easily killed a small boy, but he didn’t. He just dragged you away from his family. He gave you a stern warning.”
The professor appeared at the door. “I just took out the next set of photos. One of them is really stunning. Come and see.” He disappeared again.
“Look,” said Fatemeh, “I understand if you don’t want to help. It’s okay. I’m very sorry about what happened.” She smiled, and then went back inside.
Ramon stood on the rooming house’s porch for a long time. He thought about going back to the Castillos’ and waiting for Fatemeh, but something in her words rang true. Also, even though he had grown to hate wolves, Fatemeh still didn’t hate him. Ramon found he couldn’t walk away from that. Finally he went back inside. There, he found Fatemeh kneeling on the floor next to Professor Maravilla. She was holding the clockwork lobo still, while he carefully filled one side of the head with fresh flash powder and then replaced the top of its head. She pointed to the bed. “Take a look at the professor’s most recent photo. I think you’ll find it interesting.”
Ramon picked up the small glass plate. It was a photo of a wolf and its den. Nearby was an owl. Ramon blinked at the photo. “That wolf is in an owl burrow, isn’t it?”
“And the wolf did not eat the owl,” finished Maravilla, standing up and wiping his hands together. “I think the wolf and the owl share the burrow.”
“That’s…remarkable,” Ramon said at last.
“That’s why I’m doing this,” said Maravilla pointing to the clockwork lobo. He took out his pocket watch. “I think it’s nearly time to go.”
A short time later, Fatemeh and Ramon rode out to the grove near the mountains. Professor Maravilla had remained behind in his room to make a few adjustments to the clockwork lobo, but had arrived before them. He had spruced up since Ramon and Fatemeh last sa
w him and, if anything, he was dressed more elegantly than the day before. His jacket was decorated in gold braid and his vest was made of fine silk brocade. His boots were polished to perfection, shining in the afternoon light. The clockwork lobo stood nearby. Maravilla helped Fatemeh dismount while Ramon led both of the horses to a nearby tree and tied off their reins.
After a short discussion, Professor Maravilla opened a hatch on the side of the clockwork lobo and wound a key. After closing the hatch, the animal started walking toward the wolves he had photographed the day before. The professor, Ramon and Fatemeh followed the clockwork lobo for a time. As they topped a rise, Ramon saw movement in the distance. He held up his hand and they stopped, allowing the clockwork lobo to continue on.
Professor Maravilla retrieved a small, collapsing telescope from one of his pockets and extended it. He scanned the area where Ramon had seen movement. “Ah ha!”
Placing his arm around Fatemeh’s shoulders, he handed her the telescope and pointed. Ramon restrained an urge to challenge the professor to a fight right there. Instead, he tried to look where the professor was pointing. Ramon thought he could see wolves milling around. The clockwork lobo was heading right for them. Fatemeh shrugged off Maravilla and took the telescope. She smiled at what she saw and then handed the telescope to Ramon.
Ramon looked through the telescope and could make out four lobos—two adults and two pups. The pups were rolling around cavorting with each other. One of the adults noticed the clockwork lobo as it approached. Ramon couldn’t quite make out details through the telescope, but it looked like its hackles were up, preparing to challenge the intruder.
Ramon handed the telescope back to Fatemeh, who, in turn, handed it to Maravilla. “Now this is interesting,” said the professor. “I wonder what will happen if they attack my clockwork creation.”
“I don’t think they will,” said Fatemeh.
As Maravilla continued to watch, his mouth dropped open. “Would you look at that?” He handed the telescope to Fatemeh. Acting as though she either knew what she would see or wasn’t interested, she handed the telescope directly to Ramon.
Ramon looked through and discovered a little burrowing owl perched atop the clockwork lobo’s head. It stood there, riding on the machine like an Indian Raja might ride atop an elephant. The other wolves eyed the sight warily. As the clockwork creature passed, the pups followed, curious about the strange new wolf in their presence. Keeping an eye on the pups, the parents followed at a bit of a distance. Ramon handed the telescope back to Maravilla and the three of them made their way down the hill, doing their best to keep the wolves in sight for a time.
“They’re heading in the direction of the rabbits,” said Fatemeh.
“That’s very good,” echoed Maravilla.
“So, why is it fine for the wolves to kill rabbits and I can’t kill the wolves?” Ramon asked, a bit confused.
“It’s natural for wolves to kill and eat rabbits. Besides if the wolves don’t kill and eat some of the rabbits, there will soon be too many. They would eat all of the grass and that would create problems for the ranchers,” explained Fatemeh.
“So, in a way, we’re helping the ranchers by not killing the wolves,” Ramon said.
Fatemeh smiled at Ramon.
“What happens if the clockwork lobo walks right past the rabbits?” asked Ramon.
“That won’t be a problem,” said Maravilla. “I don’t think the wolves will pass up a feast—besides, the clockwork lobo will likely wind down before much longer.”
“What happens if he winds down before they get to the rabbits?” pressed Ramon.
“Why do you think the owl is along for the ride?” Fatemeh asked.
They continued walking. Indeed, they soon found the clockwork lobo on its side in the grass. Professor Maravilla stood it up and brushed the grass off. He then took out his telescope, handed it to Fatemeh and pointed. She looked briefly and handed it to Ramon. The owl was on the ground, acting like it had a broken wing—a trick they use when trying to distract predators from their young. When the wolves got a little too close, the owl would fly off in the direction of the rabbits. Curious as they were, the wolves continued to follow the owl.
“They’ll find the rabbits soon, and then they’ll forget about our friend, the owl,” said Fatemeh, satisfied. “Our work here is done.” The gloom of twilight was beginning to settle on the land. “I think it’s getting about time to get back to the boarding house.” She took Ramon’s hand. “After all, you have work tomorrow and I still need to find a job.”
Professor Maravilla stepped up, took Fatemeh’s hand and kissed it again. “It was a pleasure. I hope we will meet again.”
“I’m sure we will,” said Fatemeh.
“Where will you go now?” Ramon asked.
“Me? I abjure all roofs, and choose to wage against the enmity o’ the air; to be a comrade with the wolf and owl.”
“Shakespeare?” asked Fatemeh.
“King Lear, Act II, scene 4,” affirmed Maravilla. With that, the professor shook Ramon’s hand and then bent down and opened the hatch on the side of his lobo, preparing to wind it up. The automaton was really too heavy to carry, so he undoubtedly would let it walk ahead of him—wherever it was they were going.
Ramon’s hands were thrust down in his pockets and his head hung low as he and Fatemeh hiked back toward the horses.
“Why so glum?” asked Fatemeh. “Are you disappointed we found a way to save the wolves?”
Ramon thought about that for a moment, then shook his head. “No. I can’t say I’ve learned to like wolves, but I think I understand them a bit better. I don’t actually hate them anymore.”
“Then what is it?”
“I suppose I’m worried you might find someone you like better than me.”
“What, Professor Maravilla?” asked Fatemeh. “A man like that stands out too much.” She ran her hand down the brown sleeve of Ramon’s coat and then across the white shirt—colors not unlike an owl’s plumage. “You are much more in tune with your environment.”
Ramon pulled her close and kissed her. Releasing her before his glasses fogged up too much, they made their way to the horses and rode off toward the lights of Mesilla.
Chapter Four
Day of the Dead
Two weeks after their arrival in Mesilla, Fatemeh Karimi and Ramon Morales were in the sitting room of the Castillos’ boarding house. Fatemeh read quietly by the light of an oil lamp while Mrs. Castillo played the piano. Despite the cheerful music, Ramon sat forward with his hands in his lap, his brow furrowed. Fatemeh marked her place in the book with a ribbon and took Ramon’s hand. “What’s the matter?”
Ramon flashed a grin, then shook his head. “Oh, nothing. I was just thinking I should go to Mass tomorrow.”
“Would you mind if I came along?”
Ramon shifted uncomfortably. “Well...I’ve never been to this church, and I don’t know how well they’d take to someone asking questions....”
Fatemeh laughed lightly. “Don’t worry, I won’t embarrass you.”
“I didn’t say...I mean...”
She put her finger to his lips, silencing him. “You see. That’s the thing Bishop Ramirez in Socorro never understood. Like you, I believe in Jesus Christ.”
“You do?” Ramon inclined his head, confused. “Then, you mean to tell me you’re really a Christian?”
“No,” she said with forced patience. “I’m Bahá’í. I follow the teachings of Bahá’u’lláh.”
“Bah...who?” Ramon’s eyebrows came together.
“Bahá’u’lláh. He’s a teacher and the one who God made manifest.”
Ramon sat back and narrowed his gaze. “It sounds like you’re saying he’s the second coming of Christ.”
Mrs. Castillo hit a sharp note. Ramon and Fatemeh looked up. The landlady blushed, cleared her throat, and then began playing again.
Fatemeh pursed her lips and nodded. “I hadn’t really thought about it t
hat way, but his teachings are an interpretation of God’s will for this age.”
Ramon stood and walked over to the fireplace, making a show of studying some knickknacks on the mantel. Fatemeh set her book aside and went over to him. “What’s the matter, Ramon?”
He took off his glasses and made a show of inspecting them for a moment. “This Bahá’í religion really does sound kind of dangerous.”
“It’s the practitioners of your religion who tried to burn me at the stake.”
Ramon sighed. “You’re right, but it’s what I’ve believed my whole life.”
She took his hand and looked around at the Castillos’ sitting room. “This is a nice comfortable place. Maybe we should stay here for a while. I could go to Mass with you and learn more about Catholicism. In the meantime, I can teach you more about the Bahá’í Faith. What do you say?”
“I think I like that idea.” Ramon squeezed her hand and kissed her on the cheek.
The next day, Ramon and Fatemeh rose and walked around the corner to the town square. San Albino Church dominated the north side of the square. Its façade looked as though it would be more at home in the French countryside than in New Mexico Territory. The church’s entryway consisted of a single tower topped by a wood-shingled steeple. Within the tower, bells rang, calling the faithful to Mass.
Inside, the church reminded Ramon of San Miguel in Socorro. Whitewashed adobe walls surrounded wooden pews. Statues of saints stood in alcoves along the walls. Fatemeh’s brow creased. “I thought Christians were opposed to idolatry.”
Ramon frowned. “We are.” He led her to an open place at a pew and sat down while he tried to think how to explain. “We don’t exactly worship the statues. It’s more like we use them to remind us of the stories of the saints.”
“Ah, I see.” Fatemeh then put her hands together, looked toward each of the saints and gave a short bow from her seat.
Ramon inclined his head. “What are you doing?”
“Showing respect to the saints represented by those images.”
Just then, the congregation stood and began chanting a song. Ramon looked around and saw an altar boy carrying a cross followed by the priest. Looking across the way, Ramon saw the apothecary Fatemeh had confronted on their second day in town. His eyes were narrowed and he was looking straight at Fatemeh.
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