Bless Me, Ultima by Rudolfo Anaya

face of a horse, and he was always stomping at the ground.
    “¡Chingada! Dah bastard neber have a chance! Pugggggh!” Bones exploded like a pistol. He grabbed the top of his head and toppled on the dust of the street. His eyes rolled wildly. Bones was even crazier than Horse.
    “I went to the river this morning,” Samuel said softly. “There was blood on the sand—” No one heard him. I knew he lived across the river like I did, but he lived upriver where there were a few houses just past the railroad bridge.
    “I’ll race you! I’ll race you!” The Vitamin Kid pawed nervously at the ground. I never knew his real name, everyone just called him the Vitamin Kid, even the teachers at school. He could run, oh how he could run! Not even Bones in high gear or Horse at full gallop could outrun the Vitamin Kid. He was like the wind.
    “Bullshit!” Horse cleared his throat and let fly a frog. Then Florence cleared his throat and spit a nice wad that beat Horse’s by five feet at least.
    “Heh. He beat you, damn he beat you,” Abel laughed. Abel was very small, even smaller than I, and he should never have teased Horse. If there was one thing Horse loved to do, that was to wrestle. His long arms reached out, caught Abel before he could move away, and flipped him easily into the air. Abel landed hard on the ground.
    “Cabrón,” he whimpered.
    “Did he beat me?” Horse asked as he stood over Abel.
    “No,” Abel cried. He got up slowly, faking a broken leg, then when he was out of Horse’s reach he called, “He beat you, fucker, he beat you! Yah-yah-ya-yah!”
    “My ole man was right in the cafe when it happened,” Ernie continued. Ernie always wanted to be the center of interest. “He said Lupito just walked in real slow, walked up right behind the sheriff who was biting into a piece of cherry pie, put the pistol to the back of the sheriff’s head—”
    “Bullshit!” Horse neighed loudly. “Hey, Florence, top this one!” Again he cleared his throat and spit.
    “Nah,” Florence grinned. He was tall and thin, with curly blonde hair that fell to his shoulders. I had never seen anyone like him, so white and speaking Spanish. He reminded me of one of the golden angel heads with wings that hovered at the feet of the Virgin in her pictures.
    “Cherry pie? Aghhhhhh!”
    “—And there were brains and blood all over the damned place. On the table, on the floor, even on the ceiling, and his eyes were open as he fell, and before he hit the floor Lupito was out the door—”
    “Bullshit.” “Damn.” “¡Chingada!”
    “He’ll go to hell,” Lloyd said in his girl’s voice. “It’s the law that he go to hell for what he did.”
    “Everybody from Los Jaros goes to hell,” Florence laughed. Los Jaros was what they called the neighborhood across the tracks, and Horse and Bones and Abel and Florence were from there.
    “You’re going to hell, Florence, because you don’t believe in God!” Horse shouted.
    “Los vatos de Los Jaros are tough!” Bones gurgled. He wiped his thumbs on his nose and a green snot dangled there.
    “Damn.” “Chingada.”
    “Come on Florence, let’s wrestle,” Horse said. He was still angry about the spitting contest.
    “You can’t wrestle before mass, it’s a sin,” Lloyd cut in.
    “Bullshit,” Horse said and he turned to pounce on Lloyd, but as he did he saw me for the first time. He looked at me for a long time then he called me. “Hey kid, come here.”
    They watched me with interest as I walked towards the Horse. I did not want to wrestle with Horse; he was tougher and bigger than I. But my father had often said that a man of the llano does not run from a fight.
    “Who’z dat?” “Don’t know.” “Chingada.”
    The Horse reached for my neck, but I knew about his favorite trick and ducked. I went low and came up yanking at his left leg. With a hard pull I flipped the Horse on his back.
    “¡Hiii-jo-lah!” “¡Ah la veca!” “Did’jew see that, the