woman?”
“Was she beautiful?” The question was small, almost lost in the din.
“To some, perhaps.”
“To you?”
“For a time.”
That seemed to satisfy her.
“Where are your people, Isabella?”
“Here.”
“I mean your father and your mother, sisters, brothers.”
She spoke casually. “Oh, they are dead. In all the killing, in Pinal Blanco. My father was a leader. The leader. The brother of Armando. We thought our party was the stronger, and so we were careless. They came in the night, to the houses of all the ones of our party and perhaps forty were killed that night, and many houses burned. It was a village of one hundred and fifty. There had been trouble for many many years, before I was born. My father and my mother and my brother and two younger sisters died. We are a cruel people. When the trouble is bad, even the little ones die. I received this. Mire!”
She pulled up her skirt, pulled it high up her thigh, exposing the scar on the outside of her thigh, a long puckered white scar. She pushed her skirt down.
“You do not seem sad.”
“I am very sad when I think of it, Lloyd. But I do not often think of it. Our house was almost the best in the village.”
“How long ago was it?”
“I had thirteen years. It was five years ago.”
“Could you go back now?”
She stared at him in wonder. “Go back there? The daughter of Emiliano Calderon y Vega? The only child of the leader! I would not live out one night.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Listen to me. It is very simple. There are twenty-eight here. One day, with luck, there will be a hundred. Many of those will be young strong men. What if some of those young strong men were my sons? They would know what happened. I would tell them and they would know. They would be brave and strong and very angry, no?”
“It is more than possible.”
“One day there will be careful plans. We will be strong then and we will go back. The men will go back. You do not know this country. Sometimes, for many years, for maybe a hundred years, there will be a war between villages. The police and the soldiers do not matter. It is a war. One time when I was little a thing happened between villages. On a day when the men were far away in the fields, the other men from the other village marched in and killed all. Every woman, child and old man. These are serious matters.”
“Would … Armando and Roberto and Rosario do such a thing?”
“They would not care to. It is not a good thing. They would like it if we can be strong enough to go by night. But suppose we do not become strong enough? Suppose too much time passes. And there is an impatience. Then they could do the other. But I would not like it. I know many girls who are still there. But by now they have married.”
“So you will marry and have sons and teach them to hate the people of Pinal Blanco?”
“I will not marry, Lloyd.”
“Why not?”
“Look! Look at the dance! Do you see a young man? No. You see old men who have wives. You see little girls and boy children and some widows. The oldest boy child is Pepe. When he has sixteen years, I will have twenty-one. Such a marriage could be made, but whenhe has sixteen years there will be three girls who have fifteen and sixteen years. Anyway, he is my nephew. No, I shall be Tia. I shall be aunt to everyone, and teach small ones because I did go to school, but not enough, not long enough. One day I would have gone to the universidad, and I would have been a respected teacher.”
“Suppose your people can kill them and drive them away, and take the village. Then one day could they not come back in strength and do the same?”
“It is possible.”
“But does it have meaning?”
She took the cup from him. “You are un poco borracho, Lloydito. What is meaning? Like an addition of sums. It is a matter of honor. You go to kill because you must, no?”
“Yes.”
“You kill and you are once again a man in your heart. And you live as
“Was she beautiful?” The question was small, almost lost in the din.
“To some, perhaps.”
“To you?”
“For a time.”
That seemed to satisfy her.
“Where are your people, Isabella?”
“Here.”
“I mean your father and your mother, sisters, brothers.”
She spoke casually. “Oh, they are dead. In all the killing, in Pinal Blanco. My father was a leader. The leader. The brother of Armando. We thought our party was the stronger, and so we were careless. They came in the night, to the houses of all the ones of our party and perhaps forty were killed that night, and many houses burned. It was a village of one hundred and fifty. There had been trouble for many many years, before I was born. My father and my mother and my brother and two younger sisters died. We are a cruel people. When the trouble is bad, even the little ones die. I received this. Mire!”
She pulled up her skirt, pulled it high up her thigh, exposing the scar on the outside of her thigh, a long puckered white scar. She pushed her skirt down.
“You do not seem sad.”
“I am very sad when I think of it, Lloyd. But I do not often think of it. Our house was almost the best in the village.”
“How long ago was it?”
“I had thirteen years. It was five years ago.”
“Could you go back now?”
She stared at him in wonder. “Go back there? The daughter of Emiliano Calderon y Vega? The only child of the leader! I would not live out one night.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Listen to me. It is very simple. There are twenty-eight here. One day, with luck, there will be a hundred. Many of those will be young strong men. What if some of those young strong men were my sons? They would know what happened. I would tell them and they would know. They would be brave and strong and very angry, no?”
“It is more than possible.”
“One day there will be careful plans. We will be strong then and we will go back. The men will go back. You do not know this country. Sometimes, for many years, for maybe a hundred years, there will be a war between villages. The police and the soldiers do not matter. It is a war. One time when I was little a thing happened between villages. On a day when the men were far away in the fields, the other men from the other village marched in and killed all. Every woman, child and old man. These are serious matters.”
“Would … Armando and Roberto and Rosario do such a thing?”
“They would not care to. It is not a good thing. They would like it if we can be strong enough to go by night. But suppose we do not become strong enough? Suppose too much time passes. And there is an impatience. Then they could do the other. But I would not like it. I know many girls who are still there. But by now they have married.”
“So you will marry and have sons and teach them to hate the people of Pinal Blanco?”
“I will not marry, Lloyd.”
“Why not?”
“Look! Look at the dance! Do you see a young man? No. You see old men who have wives. You see little girls and boy children and some widows. The oldest boy child is Pepe. When he has sixteen years, I will have twenty-one. Such a marriage could be made, but whenhe has sixteen years there will be three girls who have fifteen and sixteen years. Anyway, he is my nephew. No, I shall be Tia. I shall be aunt to everyone, and teach small ones because I did go to school, but not enough, not long enough. One day I would have gone to the universidad, and I would have been a respected teacher.”
“Suppose your people can kill them and drive them away, and take the village. Then one day could they not come back in strength and do the same?”
“It is possible.”
“But does it have meaning?”
She took the cup from him. “You are un poco borracho, Lloydito. What is meaning? Like an addition of sums. It is a matter of honor. You go to kill because you must, no?”
“Yes.”
“You kill and you are once again a man in your heart. And you live as
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