To my wife, Maria Salazar de Vergara. Thank you for your help and your love.
CHAPTER 1
It was Sunday and the heat had been intense all day; a heat that finally began to wane with the first star appearing in the black sky. The sun beat down all day on the bleached huts of the small California Indian Village. But when night fell, a breeze cooled the parched desert, brushing gently about the one street of Santa Lucia.
It was quiet, like all Sundays. More than ever it could be said tha Santa Lucia was "dying of boredom".
It was a day for prayers -like all others- and the discolored church had seen the presence of all the faithfull, attending more out of respect for father Luis than in compliance with the order of the Bishop.
Dona Eugenia's living room was deserted. All day the door had ben ajar, partially as invitation to the parishioners, partially in hopes of catching a bit of fresh air. Nothing had happended. The woman had known this, known it for the past 25 years, ever since she had bought the vineyard from that gringo.
There was no activity in the pharmacy.
Poor Don Julio. Business was bad.
Evil luck for Santa Lucia. Nobody cared.
The breeze stirred a bit of dust.
That Sunday had been as boring as all the others and the drowziness of the aftenoon blended into the nodding of night. Not all the lights were turned on in the little houses. No one in the street seemed to notice that little detail.
Santa Lucia was inhabited by small farmers who preferred to work in the cooler aftenoons rather in he blazing heat of the noonday sun.
What time must it have been when Jaime's stationwagon returned?
Perhaps about 9:00 p.m.
Jaime was born in Santa Lucia. When? 25 years ago -about. In any case, he was a tremendously appealing young man.
When he decided to marry Patricia, the daughter of Basilio the baker, many of the young girls suffered disappointment. But when he had fathered his first son, they all decided that it would be best to forget him.
---" The trouble with that boy is that he thinks he's rich and he has fancy ideas about going to "the other side of the border," said Dona Barbara, the postman's wife.
---" Well, at the age that boy as reached, very few people want to stay in Santa Lucia...he's probably saving money to be able to leave." Who sad he was going to leave?"
---" No one!"
---" Jaime will never leave..."
---" Why?"
..."...because he's the only light of Santa Lucia..."
The voices were almost alike, as were the 25 ladies, small, squared-off and pushed up against one another.
The breeze had gained momentum and now moved at the speed of a trotting horse.
Jaime returned and as he closed the door he heard the voices of some of his neihbors murmuring in the night.
Santa Lucia labored under the heaviness of night.
CHAPTER 2
It was absurd that at almost midnight the old couple was still awake. Ridiculous!
Naturally it was. But, unfortunately for him, the man couldn't avoid it or perhaps he just didn't want to.
It was not Don Hilarión's fault that he had a chatterbox of a wife who spent all her time assassinating the character of everyone in town. Perhaps he feared falling asleep to the droning voice of Doña Rosa, his wife for 30 interminable years.
No one could assure him of safety if by chance his eyes closed, lulled to sleep by the monotonous sound of her voice.
----" But...why always at night?" asked the weary man.
---" Impossible, daytime was made for resting and doing one's work. The night was made for conversation because people pay better attention to what is said." was the answer of Doña Rosa, who had suffered with insomnia for 25 years.
---" Doctors are not interested in such things, Doña Rosa. Wouldn't it be better if we went to bed?"
---" The doctors like you, Don Hilarión, should know what is going on. Sit down, Don Hilarión, and pay attention to me once and for all"
The man stood up from the rocking chair, in which he had been sitting since the first violet rays announced the setting of the sun. He was contemplating putting an end to the monologue by an act of bravery for him- and, he was desperately tired and had wanted to comfort of bed for the last five hours.
The room was too small to be living room and a dining room, because a large amount of space was taken by his office. It had been this way for the last 25 years, ever since he had attended his first patient.
---" I have to go to the office, Doña Rosa."
---" Ridiculous, Don Hilarión. Sit down and listen to me. I'm only thinking of your own welfare."
The man did not want to argue. As always, he sat down, heavily, in the chair now discolored from constant use.
There was a pause. It didn't last more than two minutes.
---" And then, you have Jaime. An intelligent, sober, hard-working young man, but with the same ridiculous ideas of the young today. Such a lover! Poor Patricia.so young and yet so sacrificed!"
The old woman's voice filled the room. This small room, lighted only by a small, central bulb, kept Don Hilarión half asleep.
---" and the way he comes home late everyd."
Someone knocked on the door, interrupting her chatter.
There was a moment of tension.
---" Who is there?"
---" It is I, Doña Patricia, for the love of God".
Don Hilarión got up to open the door.
---" Father Luis!"
---" Don Hilarión, Jaime is very ill and poor Patricia is at her wit's end. A few minutes ago, she woke me up screaming as if she had seen the Devil itself in the Sacristy. Come with me, in the name of the Blessed Virgin."
He left as quickly as he had come.
Don Hilarion had wanted to ask him something, but the brown habit had already disappeared down the dusty street.
---" Now, do you see Don Hilarión?If you had listened to me as you should have, you now would know something about Jaime. That's your problem! You never listen!."
---" Be quiet, Doña Rosa, and bring me my case before I really get angry," snapped the usually good-natured old man.
She was quiet.
She had always admired her husband when he worked,
---" Let's go, Don Hilarión. You go first, because they will need you first."
He took the black bag used by country doctors and stooped to pick up his old shawl. He had never given up the custom of it ready for night emergencies.
They left, worried. They forgot to shut the door behind them.
CHAPTER 3
They called Don Justiniano Iturbe "The Vulture," but unjustly.
They said he lived, waiting.
Business never had been good but, on the other hand, he was not mentally agile enough to consider changing careers.
Could his father be blamed?
Perhaps. After all, this business was the inheritance of an only son. Moreover, he had received intense training and he really had had no alternative.
---" After all, a man has the right to earn a living", said his few admirers.
---" But."
---" But nothing! To be an undertaker is a job like any other," declared Father Luis.
"The Vulture."
Don Justiniano Iturbe, owner of the only mortuary in Santa Lucia, felt that he had a special duty in running his business. He felt that God had chosen him to be the one who said good-bye to all the rest.
The young people of the village used to say that the Vulture, Father Luis and Don Hilarion were involved in a secret conspiracy.
---" What foolishness. It is absurd to say or even to think it," said the doctor
After all, Don Justiniano was not at fault. His mission was a humble one and basically he realized that he was only the middleman. He only had to place them in a wooden box, take them to the nearest town to comply with the law, and then bring them back to the cemetery.
---" Someone has to do it," Father Luis had said from the pulpit when he had heard the gossip.
---" Exactly."
That Sunday night, the tiny mortuary office was still seen to have the lights on, even though it was after midnight. The sharp knocks reberverated in the room where he kept the wooden boxes.
---" Damn! Stop knocking that way. Hilarion, you are going to break all my windows!"
Don Hilaron stopped knocking when he saw the light. The door opened, revealing the transparency of the office, clean and neat.
---" What's the matter?"
---" Jaime, my dear Justiniano."
No one said anything.
CHAPTER 4
What tremendous agony flowed trough Jaime's body.
He had come home a few hours ago and he had felt exhausted by his day's work in the desert.
---" What time would that have been?"
---" It must have been about 1:30," responded Patricia, his wife.
The noise of the dishes being washed in the kitchen had been inviting. He had enjoyed sitting at the table, even after the cloth had been removed.
---" What pain!"
He had got up heavily.
Patricia had watched him strangely and she had not been able to contain the scream of horror that had issued from her throat when she had seen him fall to the floor. A man so full of life crumbled like a building shaken by an earthquake.
---" Jaime.my God!"
The strong voice had resounded, painfully, in the small adobe room. From the small bed near the table had come the cry of a small child.
---" What great tragedy has struck this house?"
Jaime had been tense and had felt the wood floor with his crooked boards as he had fallen. Something strange had been happening around him and he had been very confused. His eyes had ached and fell as if they would burst forth from their sockets. His head had made him dizzy with pain.
Seconds had passed that seemed like hours.
---" What agony, my dear God!"
---" What unspeakable pain.and this heaviness"
Soon, Jaime had stop suffering and drifted slowly to sleep. Now there were no more noises.
Silence
Nothing
Cold
---" It is cold." He thought for a moment that he heard strange noises near his bed.
---" But, what the devil was this? Where have they put me? What am I doing in this wooden b."
---" Oh my God!"
---" Oh my God. How tragic Don Hilarion. A young man so attractiveand look at him! There he is, all alone, very alone, in that coffin."
A nightmare. That was it.
---" I'm having a nightmare that is driving me insane," tough Jaime while desperatly sought to move inside the narrow box.
---" The nightmare is over and surely it must be dawn in Santa Lucia."
Nothing happened.
His eyes were possessed in the superhuman effort that Jaime used to try and open them.
---" Enough!Enough!I want to wake up. Oh God, please let me wake up."
Nothing.
---" Our Father Who art in heaven"said several voices from the living room.
and later they seemed to fade into whispers.
All the muscles of his body were paralyzed. As if he was deadwith only his brain in working order.
---" Deadit can't be."
---" Get me out of here!"
The world stopped for him for an instant as his brain began to conceive strange images. Childrentreeshis parents in dim distancehis schoola red bicycle, and, suddenly, the beautiful face of Patricia. His memories stopped.
---" My Patricia, what has happened? Why do you let them do this to me?"
---" Blessed are thou above all women."
The murmurs again. His mind rapidly took stock of the situation.
---" There are no muscular movements," he thought.
---" In the name of the Father, of the Son and the Holy Ghost, Amen."
All his sensations stopped. That was the sobbing voice of Patricia and it appeared to be closed to the coffin. With the mental agility he had always had, the young man arrived at the conclusion.
---" CatalepsyThat was it!CatalepsyThe muscular movement temporarily ceases.But, for how much longer? Oh God, help me. Saint Jude give me strengthCatalepsyI am death in life"
His whole body seemed to feel the pain that the horrendous truth had brought him. Tear flowed from his eyes.
---" I am savedI'm crying"
His last hope of returning to life flowed down his pale cheeks like an anguished cr. Jaime cried hoping that Patricia , apparently near him, would see his tears and stop this terrible nightmare.
The tear feel through his closed eyes and slipped gently down his face, wetting the white silk cushion on which he rested his head.
---" Father Luishe is crying for us"
The man with the brown habit ran to the coffin and saw the wet cushion.
---"A miracle!A miracle!!"
---" Let us pray to the Virgin of Guadalupe!"
And the murmurs returned.
---" Our Father that art in heaven"
It was over. The young man frantically waited for Don Hilarion to come to him. In the middle of the prayers Patricia shouted the name of the lost young man to the groups of faithful that accumulated in the room.
Total and abysmal silence. Nothing yet.
---" Miracle indeed! Always blaming God. He isn't crying. It's just the muscles of the eye relax in death and the tears ducts open." It was Dona Rosa.
Sadly, Father Luis slowly closed the coffin.
---Oh my God! Make them wait for don Hilarion!"
It was closed, shutting out the light and all but enough oxygen for just a short while.
---" Patricia! Don't believe that woman! Dead men can't cry!
And mental screams can't be heard. Slowly the life ebbed from him as oxygen was used up.
