THE INSURGENCE of
CHAN SANTA CRUZ
BOOK NINE:
BOOK of the JAGUAR PRIEST
CHAPTER SEVEN
The
travelers arrived at Idznacab by dusk and, casting a
wary glance about for the Mayordomo, Armando Feliz, Silvestro presented the
invitation he had received in Peto and asked after
the patron. Don Antonio, he learned, would return at a later hour. The
attendants of the patron's house were all young and unfamiliar to him. Lord
Blood Vomit had passed through Yucatan also.
Silvestro and Clarencio made
their way through the deepening shadows to the village of the mazehualob, their feet scattering the pigs and turkeys that
patrolled it. From one of the huts, through which the faint glow of a candle or
lamp could be seen, came the challenge of a dog and another's barking joined
the first. The dogs were Idznacab's warning against
intruders whom could not be recognized by scent. Realizing again he was no
longer a part of this village, Silvestro steered
himself towards what he recognized as the home of Esteban Chan.
A woman
waited by the door, suspiciously, the Tatoob was
aware of many eyes that had been watching through the slats between the wooden
poles. "I've come for Esteban Chan," he told her and, when she did
not reply, added: "you may tell him that it is Silvestro
Kaak."
Visibly
afraid, the woman slipped inside. A moment passed as words too low for the sublevados to hear were passed, then she beckoned both of
them inside.
Esteban
Chan lay in his hammock, moving only his head at their entry. "Forgive my
wife," he said softly and in obvious discomfort. "When one asks for
me now, she thinks it must be the Devil, for who else would be interested in a
sick old man such as myself?"
"We
are not so old," Silvestro said, squatting on
his heels.
"Perhaps
not so old as Mariano Chable
in years and, of course, you seem to have many of those ahead of you. But this
place and the disease have made an old man of me, and I barely can move. No
wonder every visitor takes on an aspect of the Devil!"
"Nonsense,"
Silvestro replied. "If anyone calls for you it
will be a saint, perhaps San Pedro himself. Consider the virtue of your life,
your children..."
Esteban
sighed. "The Devil laid his claim on my soul the night on which we parted
forever. I was certain that to join the insurgency would lead to certain death,
and I despaired. But it is you who have survived and grown strong.
"Strong?"
asked Silvestro with a puzzled expression.
"Of
course," replied the other. "Even here they know the reputation of
Tata Silvestro, Jefe of Chan Santa Cruz... killer of
four hundred Mexicans. Why you are as notorious as Pancho
Villa!"
The Tatoob thought about that a moment, not entirely
displeased, but shook his head. "I am not my reputation," he
demurred. "And you have nothing to be ashamed of. You have your
children."
"They
cannot atone for my weaknesses," Esteban answered, and Silvestro
saw that he would not be moved from his guilt but clutch it ever more tightly,
for it was all he possessed.
"So...
old Mariano's still alive?" he asked, dropping the matter, hoping to learn
something of the village routine – that which he had forsaken at the call of
the Cross.
"He'll
bury us all! He's taken another wife, the daughter of Paco
Pozo. Do you remember him?"
"Old
Paco? How could I forget... is he still at Idznacab?"
Esteban
cast his eyes downward, spreading his palm wide and rotating it, to suggest the
tomb. "In a manner of speaking, he is..."
"Then
you need have no fear of the Devil, for Paco
undoubtedly has poisoned him by this time. His daughter! She was seven years
old when I left, or was it eight? And now she has married old Mariano! I must
smoke with that old rogue."
"He
has gone to Valladolid," Esteban said and his words trailed off. The harsh
voice of Clara Chan interrupted them.
"Can't
you see that my husband is tired?" she scolded and Silvestro
Kaak, the Tatoob... the
Jefe of Chan Santa Cruz and the scourge of Mexicans... gathered his hat and
backed out of the hut, drawing Clarencio in his wake,
promising to return in the morning.
It had
grown fully dark and the electric generator chugging away at the side of the
patron's house had transformed it into a hall of lights. There were even lights
to each side of the front door and these intimidated the Tatoob,
whose boldness was the greater by day... he had fought in the dark and had
prevailed, but retained his ancestral dread of moon-spirits. Leading Clarencio to the back door, he was received by a stout
Ladino woman, who took his hat and his invitation with an expression of
contempt.
Don
Antonio, however, was soon in returning and gave Silvestro
an abrazo which confused him all the more, for he did
not know whether the hacendado regarded him as
Governor of the Territory, though an indian,
or remembered him as a debtor who had run from his debts. "No man under
protection of Governor Alvarado must ever, ever enter by the back door
again," he said, shooting a freezing look at the housekeeper. "The
new Governor has proclaimed an equality of the races." His voice dropped.
"The sexes also, but that is another matter. Anyway, my home is yours. And
who is this?"
"He
is my Teniente," said Silvestro,
"son of the Oficiale to whom the Governor you
name made his surrender, on behalf of Mexico, in Chan Santa Cruz." The hacendado lifted his eyebrow at this, but extended a hand
and motioned for their small belongings to be carried away. Deliberating
quickly, the Tatoob gave up his rifle.
Don
Antonio did not offer any sign of recognition that it was the same he had
entrusted to Silvestro six years previously, the second
weapon of Idznacab to fall into the hands of the Cruzob.
He
ushered them out of the kitchen and into the library where another indian was seated, a man of Clarencio's age. He was attired in a dark and sober Mexican
suit tucked into riding boots dusty with the soil of Idznacab,
he wore spectacles rimmed in gold and his fingers glistened with rings.
"This is Juan Kui," said the hacendado, removing the stopper from a decanter of cognac
and pouring three generous portions. "Once he worked for me, just like any
of those people out in the village there, but Providence intervened, causing
him to be taken to Europe and to Africa, to Egypt and... what was that
place?"
"Mongolia,"
said Kui. He has acquired the accent of the dzulob, thought Silvestro.
"Imagine
that!" said don Antonio. "Places we have only heard about through
books." And he opened wide his arms to included Silvestro
and Clarencio Pec in this world, though neither of
them read nor wrote, nor knew even that there was such a village that
was Mongolia.
"Now
Juan has returned to us and, with the sponsorship of his patron, Governor
Alvarado, will establish a school in every village of this state." The hacendado passed cognac to his visitors. "He has also
adopted the Governor's anticlericalism and his sentiments on Prohibition, which
law of Yucatan we must hope that he will not cause to be turned against
us."
Juan Kui's voice resembled that which the Tatoob
thought would come out of the mouth of a steam engine, if such were to suddenly
begin speaking. "The changes that the Republic now must go through will be
codified only when every Mexican is capable of reading and writing
Spanish."
Silvestro sampled the cognac, feeling the absurd
disapproval of Juan Kui. It had a light, smooth
taste, and some sense of its value flickered back to him as he remembered the
only two times he had tasted such a liquid... at the house in Merida, at which
time he had been obliged to swallow it in haste, for fear of discovery... and
upon the night he had made his pact with Bravo's representative, the little
Huichol who, reportedly, had later been made President of the Mexicans, but was
no longer. This was a taste he consequently associated with fear or treason and
wondered which, if either, was an omen of this mission.
The
cognac also inflamed his determination to challenge this scholar, this
automaton posed before him. "The Governor, of course, acknowledged that we
are not Mexicans. We have his signed decree."
Juan Kui raised his left hand at don
Antonio who had risen half out of his seat in surprise. "Don't be alarmed,
this fellow has a point," he said. "Science and education did not
arise with the Europeans. During my travels in Egypt and in the Orient, I
encountered many curiosities that hint at an association between educators in
that era that is comparable in sophistication to any of our own time. Mexico
has as much to learn from its Indian populations as it has to offer.
"Don
Antonio informs me that you are a chief upon whose words the destinies of
hundreds, even thousands of your people rise or fall," Juan Kui said directly now.
"That
number is, perhaps, an overestimation."
"No
matter," replied the scholar. "When my work in Yucatan is done, it
would please me to go to the territory to establish schools in that place where
there never have been any."
"There
were schools in Santa Cruz," Silvestro
said.
"There
were?
"We
destroyed them," continued the Tatoob and Clarencio, who had only listened, nodded enthusiastically.
"All that they taught was disrespect for Christianity, and that the
children of the mazehualob should become spies for
the Mexicans. Those children who went to schools grew up unhealthy, and most of
them were taken by the plague. What purpose is there for our children to learn
to read and write Spanish when they have their own language?"
"I
assure you things will be different," promised Kui.
"The education of the indians... the mazehualob... will be under the personal supervision of
General Alvarado."
The
implication that the Governor of Yucatan would take personal command of the
schools, as Bravo had, caused Silvestro to frown but
he took one more sip of cognac and waited.
Juan Kui, perhaps, had realized his mistake. "The Governor
is no revolutionary bandit, nor a leader who will exploit his people, as did Porfirio Diaz and General Bravo. He is a man of culture, of
intelligence. And," Kui emphasized, "he has
more to offer the territory besides education."
Kui leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees,
pointing his rings towards Silvestro. "If you
had traveled, as I have, you would understand the importance of civilization...
not only here but in the backward nations of the world. It is never constant,
but requires the will of the multitudes. Even mighty Egypt... how it has
fallen! President Carranza has decreed an abolition of slavery of the body, but
only Mexicans can end a slavery of mind. Today they are free, but what is the
use of freedom if only to work for a day or two to earn the money to buy a
bottle and fall asleep in the street. Why should men do this over and over
until the day they die?
"Salvador
Alvarado is so aptly named for he is the salvation of the common man. He is
establishing new banks..."
The
scholar hesitated now, for Silvestro's
incomprehension was so deep and so hostile that explanation was needed.
"Banks!... buildings where people bring their money for it to be
safe. And doctors," he added. "Doctors and scientists. They will
eradicate the chicle fly," he promised Clarencio,
whose nose and ears already were showing evidence of that insect's
depredations.
But as
we know, the word for scientists is that which also refers to the cabinet of Porfirio Diaz. Each of the Cruzob
knew that the soldiers sent to kill them acted upon the orders of Cientificos. And so, for Juan Kui's
careless word, Silvestro Kaak
closed his ears and after some further discussion by Juan Kui...
to which the Oficiales reacted with turgid disdain...
don Antonio called them to adjourn to dinner,
believing that the associates of the former dictator would be sent to the monte to kill flies. Impossible! Such men would be spies...
setting about to gain, by treachery, that victory which they could not achieve
by force. Spies!
The
occasional meals that Silvestro took with soldiers
and chicle traders and the memories of the far off functions of Merida had ill
prepared him for the complexities of the table, with its bewildering array of
silver tools. Anxious that he not reveal inexperience, and fighting the urge to
grab the nearest morsel and hide it in his shirt, he observed the movements of
his hosts and followed them as precisely as he could. The meal ended without
incident and, after another cognac and cigars, and more of Kui's
recitation of the odd habits of people whom Silvestro
knew nor cared nothing of, don Antonio escorted the
two Oficiales up a staircase and to two rooms at the
end of the hall.
"These
are yours," the hacendado said, growling like a
dog, which has caught a bone in its throat. "They were used by my sons...
but one is dead and the other is somewhere in the Republic fighting, or is
perhaps also dead. I have heard nothing of him for years."
To this
Silvestro merely grunted. Hard as sleep may be, at
least he would not be afflicted by a madman's nearness.
When
the morning arrived, don Antonio told Silvestro that a carriage had been prepared to take him to
the railroad junction. Trains ran more frequently now, under Alvarado, and
Merida would be reached after only an hour's ride. Juan Kui
was still asleep. "He has become," the hacendado
smiled, "more of a European than the Europeans. Even in May and June he
will not rest when the sun is hottest, but must be at his studies, or else
planning the program of his schools... he intends that all Maya children shall
learn Latin. Do you know what Latin is?"
"Priest
language," Silvestro said impatiently,
"before we shot them." He gestured to Clarencio
to hold the carriage, for he wished to pay his respects to Esteban.
"He
is not well," protested Clara, trying to bar the door, but Silvestro pushed her aside, seeing for himself that his old
friend remained in his hammock with his eyes closed, bathed in sweat. Then he
regretted his rude treatment of Esteban's wife, but asked instead how long he'd
had the fever.
"For
years and years," said Clara. "It comes over him whenever he thinks
of things that he is not, and those which might have been." And she said
this with such unpleasant intonations that Silvestro bowed and ducked outside
without a further gesture of farewell.
But, at
the outskirts of the village, he was approached by Esteban's oldest son.
"Help me escape," the young man begged, "I cannot abide this
place... with its poverty and with the schools we must attend, but are not paid
for attending. Take me to Merida, to Santa Cruz... please!" But Clarencio was motioning by the carriage and Silvestro had already begun to put Idznacab
out of his mind. The Tatoob responded sternly to the
boy, admonishing him to respect the wishes of his parents. Then, he returned to
the waiting carriage, which would bring him to the train, then, the city.
Silvestro had no remorse over his treatment of Esteban's
son. Chan Santa Cruz was no place for one to be brought to... it is found only
by the desperate and determined. If the youth was one of these he would appear,
sooner or later.
RETURN to HOMEPAGE
– “THE INSURGENCE of CHAN SANTA CRUZ”
RETURN to GENERISIS HOMEPAGE