Jemez Spring by Rudolfo Anaya Page A

judge at Jemez to marry us, honeymoon at the cabin—”
    â€œOh, no, Sonny. I want a big wedding. The family has to come. All our friends. Promise me you won’t do anything rash.”
    â€œYou’re the one who keeps telling me to settle down.”
    â€œI know, hijo, I know. You do what you think is best. But a mother just wants to be there. I’m old fashioned, I know. Armando will never get married. Wild women, cars, and gambling—speaking of gambling, Max is taking me to lunch at the Isleta Casino. The man has given me a new life. Don’t worry, we don’t gamble, we just go for lunch. Those poor people at the slots make me sad. Did you hear about the woman who met the devil?”
    â€œNo.”
    â€œShe was from Belen, I think. She lost everything at the slot machines. Even mortgaged her home. The machine had just taken her last dollar, and she was in a panic. How could she tell her family she had lost their home? Anyway, a handsome man dressed in black appeared. He gave her three coins. She bet the coins and each one paid her a fortune. She cried with joy. She tried to thank the stranger but he was gone. Only burning sulfur filled the air. Anyway, she hurried home to share her luck with her family, but when she got there the police were waiting. They were there to tell her an hour ago her three sons had been killed in a terrible accident. The woman went crazy. Her arm grew stiff. When they pried open her hand there were three burned spots on her palm.”
    â€œThe three coins,” Sonny said.
    â€œIf you make a deal with the devil you have to pay. I feel awful for that woman. It could be someone we know. I guess some people just don’t have a choice—”
    â€œYou mean they’re addicted?”
    â€œLife is a gamble, isn’t it? She lost her sons.”
    â€œBut the lottery pays for scholarships,” Sonny said. He didn’t play, but if people wanted to gamble that was their business.
    â€œAre you feeling well?” she asked.
    â€œI’m good, really. You have fun at the casino.”
    â€œWe just go for lunch, mi’jo. Cuídate. Call me when you get back.”
    â€œI will. Have fun.”
    â€œOh, Sonny, it’s not going to the casino that makes me happy, it’s being with Max. We fit. You know, like you and Rita fit. You could be anywhere with her and be happy. Que no?”
    What she said cut to his heart. Yes, she’ was right.
    â€œBendición, hijo. I’ll call you tonight.”
    Sonny offed the phone. He wiped his eyes. Damn, a tough PI shouldn’t get soft, he thought. But his mother spoke the simple truth, a truth she had engraved in his heart when he was a child. It was part of the creencia of the Mexicanos, to be kind. Yes, being anywhere with Rita would be his happiness.
    She obviously hadn’t heard what was happening in the Jemez, where in the caldera of the mountain, the cradle of Valle Grande, a bomb was ticking away. In the city people were going about their business, paying no heed to the possibility of danger. Or maybe too many terrorist alerts had just numbed sensibilities.
    Overhead the equinox sun traveled across the blue sky, creating in its journey the quadripartite day. Equal lengths of night on each side of the equator. Day of perfect balance.
    The earth turned its face to the light, so degrees of time were born on the maps of argonauts, seasons marked by the solstices and the equinoxes. And in the center a vertical axis, a gold column to heaven, Jacob’s ladder, the same tree of light seen by those who went through near-death experiences. The axis mundi connected the earth’s plane to the gods, although some would say that axis was simply a revelation of the spinal cord and its seven seals. An experienced soul could climb to heaven on that ladder of bones, or plunge to the land of the dead below.
    The universe, the ancients said, was delineated by four spaces. In the face