THE INSURGENCE of CHAN SANTA CRUZ

BOOK SIX: THE FIRST of the BOOKS of CHANGE

CHAPTER THIRTY TWO

Bravo accepted these papers, glanced at them and grasped them in his left hand, keeping his pistol still ready. "Very good," he said and, with these words, some of the weariness left his old bones. "Muy bien, mi General," he said, a little louder, and held the orders up and shook them. "Our President has chosen a fine messenger boy for Quintana Roo, one as distinguished as himself. Let me see... General, do you know code? I have put in a request for a replacement operator for the telegraph... when and if it is repaired."

Some nervous laughter greeted this remark, which Bravo chose to interpret as support for his defiance. He winked at his men. "Madero sends one of his so-called Generals to us to command the territory with his papers. Our territory, this Santa Cruz del Bravo which we have rescued from the monte and from the sublevados." The General's face was growing red now; shouting, he turned to include those at his rear. "And does this new President send us men of business and science... ingenarios, comercios... or experts in agriculture? No! Not even a man to operate our telegraph. Only a General with papers and no plan, no dreams, no future. General, this is what I think of your papers!"

He tore the decree in half, and half again, scattering the pieces to the wind. A cheer came from soldiers situated at the fringes of the crowd.

"Viva Bravo! Long live Quintana Roo!" And when these had died down... much more quickly than would be anticipated, a voice that some recognized as that of Boleaga...

"Death to Rivera! Death to the swindlers and chocolateros! Down with Madero!"

A few murmurs of agreement followed but not the deluge Bravo had hoped for; perhaps of a consequence of, not only the Federal contingent, but Rodriguez and his men and those he had assembled who waited grimly behind Rivera, weapons at hand. There built, instead, a humming sound, a throb of expectation, a thousand hurried conversations breaking out. The mob awaited direction.

"General Bravo," said Rivera... and many were astonished that a seemingly insignificant man possessed such a voice... "all Mexico owes you its gratitude for your unyielding efforts on behalf of this distinguished city. In the advance guard of a nation come its pioneers who, such as Cortes, Montejo, such as yourself, create the foundations upon which civilization is erected. In recognition of your success laying this foundation, President Madero desires your immediate return, so he may congratulate you personally and offer you the honor which your tenure so rightly deserves."

"A rope," muttered one of the officers from Tabi to one of those from Santa Cruz. This other nodded, but kept his hand on his rifle in anticipation. Amazingly, some of those behind Bravo believed Madero's General, for the humming sound grew lower and a few smiles could be seen, had Bravo turned.

"Our initial contact having been achieved," proclaimed Rivera, "it shall be my purpose now... under the direction of the illustrious President of Mexico, his Ministers and the Congress of the Republic... to take up the tasks you have so admirably initiated. I foresee a day to come when the territory boasts a city of ten thousand, fifty thousand even... a place of wealth and progress to which people flock from the four corners of the globe. And why merely a territory?" asked Rivera now, drawing his sword for the attention of the mob but slowly, ceremonially, deliberately raising it over his head in a gesture of respect more than aggression. "Those in the governments of Merida and Campeche who ridiculed Quintana Roo, who mocked the brave men who redeemed it from the morass of cruelty and superstition in which it languished under their direction, those who discounted this land as worthless... these are the same who clamor to return the territory to the states of Yucatan or Campeche, to return it to the old ways of the old century, and to its old plunderers of the past. But I am here to more this territory forward... to resist these evilly-inspired plottings, and to bring to the attention of the President all that General Bravo has accomplished here. And when this is achieved, I have no doubt that he shall grant us that which is our birthright... statehood!"

The humming grew louder, penetrated by a few shouts of "Viva Madero!" and "Viva el Estadismo!"

General Bravo stroked the barrel of his pistol but could not pull the trigger, for he was perplexed. Certainly his impulse was to place a bullet through Rivera's heart... as it seemed that his brain, concealed within the General's enormous head, was a target Pancho Villa himself could not be sure of striking. But as the liberality of the flattery magnified Bravo, though knowing it for the trick that it was, he could not help but be swept up in the patriotic rhetoric and naive enthusiasm for the future. For, only slightly more than a decade ago it had been he who looked across this plaza from his horse, his heart swelling with dreams as the flag of Mexico was first raised over Chan Santa Cruz. And, while the taste of blood was fresh and the nature of the dreams was opportunity, Ignacio Bravo had, for once, half-believed his own utterances, for all of their naiveté, just as he suspected Rivera did now.

"Men of Santa Cruz del Bravo," Rivera continued, "under the progressive hand of don Francisco, Mexico is rising from its sleep of many decades. Our enemies, foreign and domestic, are in retreat and..."

"Viva Huerta!" someone called out.

Rivera frowned, losing his train of thought and beginning anew. "In the sixteen months since our great popular rising, the President has recognized the contribution that the Federal army has made in securing the peace and progress of the Republic. Your July bonus was only a beginning."

The humming seemed to change to a more aggressive buzzing, as though a hive had been disturbed, angering the insects within. "What bonus?" someone called out from the anonymous center of the crowd at Bravo's back. "What bonus?"

"What are these people talking about?" Rivera asked the old General. "The President’s bonus money was sent to Quintana Roo, the same as it was to the other Federal divisions. I personally handled the receipts, including that with your signature."

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