THE INSURGENCE of CHAN SANTA CRUZ

BOOK NINE: BOOK of the JAGUAR PRIEST

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Venustiano Carranza seemed, to the Tatoob, a tired mollusk of a man who... having attached himself to some rock at the bottom of the sea where the filth is thickest... so relishes the nutrient soup that washes in and out with its every breath, that it would not move, even if it could. The President also spoke softly, as if underwater, his pale eyes blinked frequently behind tinted spectacles. Being by nature a man of few words, Silvestro facilitated the routine of statement and translation, reply and reiteration noting... for his own purpose... that Colonel Solis' translations were mostly accurate ones. He was less certain about the documents, pages and pages of Spanish writing he could not make sense of but, on the few matters of substance, he allowed himself equality with this submarine President for, in the monte among the British arms dealers and American chicle traders, the sublevados had learned every trick of bargaining.

"Let us now speak of the terms of surrender," said the Tatoob, deliberately seeking to provoke the First Chief. Solis shook his head sadly, but translated accurately. "Somewhere in this city, among the papers of Diaz or perhaps one of those who succeeded him, is a document dividing the land of the mazehualob among thirteen Mexicans, not one of which has ever set his foot in Quintana Roo. Since yours is a government of Constitutions, of paper, this paper must be found and destroyed as a term of the rendición and, in its place, a treaty written recognizing the dominion of the Holy Cross and its Oficiales."

The President smiled weakly towards Solis, the appeal of one potent water devil to a lesser dzul of earth... or perhaps fire, for the Tatoob had no doubt that Colonel Solis would defend his position and his patron valiantly, if given no alternative. "Are all these indians such sons of bitches," the President inquired, losing not a whit of the lazy, alluvial rolling of his words.

"I believe so," replied Solis, detecting a ripple of indignation in the Tatoob. "Some of them are even worse." Carranza nodded in Poseidonian sorrow.

He knows Spanish every bit as well as Carranza or I, thought Solis. Well, my orders were to look after his affairs... and if the President is foolish enough to be swayed into compromising more than he intended I have only done my duty. So the Colonel determined not to tell Carranza what he had learned, and, as he further meditated between the inconsequential points tossed between the President and the sublevado jefe, Solis wondered whether the First Chief was also planting his comments with a view towards catching the Tatoob - in which case he, also, would be testing the Colonel's loyalty. His stomach flipped... it was too early in the morning for intrigues.

"Tell him," the President now said, and then he seemed to lose his thought and sat with his mouth open, gasping like a fish... if such a fish ever existed with moustaches and a white beard of the length of Carranza's. "Tell him that the land question, also, is vital to the revolution. That redistribution must occur in a fair manner and that it will take time."

Solis translated without betraying any of his suspicions and, as he did, the President placed two fingers to the rim of his spectacles, as if to take them off. Then something else changed his mind. Carranza's hand slipped to his lap.

"Tell him that I am not unaware that others also claim a General's rank in the Territory, other indians whom also, I believe, share his... pecuniary interests." The President smiled again. "Some of these have tried to make contact with me, through Alvarado, and... who knows?... they even may come here, as he has done. My door must be open to all."

"As I would also be obligated to confer with Francisco Villa," Silvestro said by way of reply. "But which of these others possess the city of the Holy Cross, that city which even Mexico admits to be the capital of what it calls its Territory, if under the name of one who is loved neither by mazehualob nor the Constitutionalists."

Carranza responded with a grandfatherly smile. "Sometimes it is not enough to occupy a capital city. It may even be disadvantageous. However," he continued, "it is well that you and I should talk this way, one man to another, and it is also right that I make clear what I expect to receive from a man whom I appoint Governor of the Territory."

Silvestro frowned. "A Governor, I understand, is one elected by the people, except during a time of insurrection which, Alvarado informs me, is coming to its end. Is this not so?"

"If we were speaking of a state. But," the President observed, "in a Federal Territory, such as Quintana Roo or Lower California, the Governor is appointed here, from this very room." Carranza placed his hand upon his desk and smiled again. "The Constitution will be made most specific on this matter. Besides, one need not have competition for an election to occur. Authority designates its successor, and the people give him their vote of confidence. That is Constitutionalist democracy.

"Now," the President continued when Silvestro did not voice objection, "the duties of Governorship include the provision of those services enlightened government must offer. And, of these, the first is education. As we put political disputes behind us, the Republic will be in need of educated persons.... doctors, engineers, attorneys... to begin reconstruction of our industries and enterprises. "Some of my predecessors," Carranza said, placing one hand to the side of his head in a gesture of foolishness, "not only failed to support education but conducted a campaign of extermination directed against our professional classes. The unfortunate territory fell under the domination of one of these."

Silvestro acknowledged this with but a nod, and the President placed his hand upon the desk. His routine fascinated Solis: head, desk, lap and head again... Carranza's gestures seeming as those of an automaton, a machine that mimics the postures and pose of leadership.

"There is a youth of seventeen," the President ventured, "who has just now been appointed a full professor at the University. A capable young man, assuredly, and from an excellent family... but, my point is that one so young must be named to fill a position of such importance emphasizes our lack of educated citizens. Thus, when I look upon a man, regarding him as qualified or not to serve as Governor, my interests turn first to education."

Solis was some time in translation, giving the Tatoob a chance to form his words with care. "Schools shall be welcome in the territory," said Silvestro, "if they teach the mazehualob to read and write, to operate machinery. I would support these. But should they turn the young against their parents or preach acquiescence to intolerable conditions of slavery, I shall not."

"Under the Constitution," Carranza smiled, wolfishly, "there will be no slavery. So, the matter is settled... and, now, comes the question of how this education shall be financed."

"If you knew the territory, you would understand that this is not so hard as it would seem."

"So I am given to understand," the President replied, when Solis had translated Silvestro's words into Spanish. Abruptly he removed a pen and paper from his desk and began to write down figures.

"You understand that it would be unseemly for the President of Mexico to take upon himself the mantle of a doubting Thomas," said the President when he had finished with his calculations. "When I have discussed matters with a man, I must determine his sincerity, the faith he places in his own word. I believe you to be upright, though an indian without education, protective of your interests like any man, and watchful of the interests of those who place their faith in you. So therefore let us speak as men between whom business can be done." He allowed Solis to translate this, then proceeded without waiting for reply. "Of course it is not my will to promise the territory before all who claim to represent it can be heard. But at least I can demonstrate a little good faith if you, for your part, also do."

The President's eye lowered to the dark suit with which Silvestro had clothed himself at the Colonel's request. "I see he can deck himself out like a Mexican, and wasn't it your statement that the Federal uniform did not so disturb him as it does some others... don't translate that, of course."

"If he is cold enough," Solis remarked in Spanish, "he will do that which is necessary."

"Don't they all? Good. Tell him... tell him that if he swears his loyalty to the Constitution, if he prevails upon those indians to lay their arms down, I shall see to it that his rank is made official. He shall have all the privileges of Generals, and also the salary and pension accorded one."

"I am already recognized in the eyes of the Cruzob, who are not prepared to lay their weapons down, as yet," Silvestro replied when the translation was made, "but, on their behalf, I shall consider your kind offer." The President frowned.

"What do you think holds him back?" he asked the Colonel. "It is true that promotions have gotten out of hand... still, it is not a small thing to be made a Mexican General."

"Perhaps the disposition of the chicle taxes lies at the bottom of this," Solis suggested in Spanish. "A General's salary is substantial, but... taking the whole of the territory... it is not so great in comparison to what is at stake."

"That is probably so," Carranza said with another deep sigh. "Chicle revenues are of interest, but insubstantial in comparison to those levies on henequen which Alvarado sends us. We may not agree with his methods, Colonel, but he provides results. Since our primary objective is to see that these fellows stay out of the state of Yucatan... whomever is leading them... tell this one I shall give more consideration to the matter, even as he has this night to consider my offer. Tomorrow, you both shall be my guests for a luncheon at the airport. It will not be bad for this fellow to know what awaits if the indians do not reconcile themselves to Mexico, and I'll have a little surprise for him, eh?" The President's eyes smoldered behind the blue tinted glasses. "Don't mention the latter, of course, only tell him how honored I am, we all are," he rotated a cynical wrist, "the usual formalities. And contact my adjutant at five this afternoon."

Solis, for his part, translated the President's words faithfully, giving no indication that he suspected either that Silvestro could understand Carranza's words, that the President knew this and sought to bait the Tatoob or even that... being between the two... he was the one on whom any misunderstanding could be blamed. All these deceptions were as tasteful as a taco filled with spoiled meat, causing the Colonel to squirm in his chair at the prospect that the First Chief – seeing a capable adversary – might be considering some form of the treachery he had already employed to dispose of rivals.

For the present, however, the President expressed nothing but a benign curiosity, that which his critics were calling, already, "the Carranza mask". "Governor Alvarado has reported on the progress of our citizens of Mayan ancestry since the flight of Diaz. I understand that seventy thousand slaves have been freed in six years, is that true?"

"Perhaps, one way or another," replied the Tatoob. "There are a number of ways that one can define freedom. If a man has his liberty, but must work on account of debts and penalties unjustly imposed on his ancestors, is he still free?"

"A useful point. But," Carranza rallied, "Alvarado is deeply interested in the progress of the territory. In two years he has raised the moral standard of Yucatan from an abysmal state, an example worthy of study, General. Although he is even more anticlerical than I, we do respect such morality that the Christian indians observe."

"So long as it is understood that we are Cristianos, not Catolicos... nor, either, what Mexicans would call Cristeros," Silvestro corrected. "Our faith issues from Juan de la Cruz. No Pope nor priest, save those whom He affirms may teach the Cruzob."

"Certainly," Carranza said. "Of course. And with a trace of displeasure he gestured towards the Colonel. "You will have to explain this further," he advised. And Solis only nodded, for the illness in his stomach had intensified.

"And now, while we are here," the President said, removing from his desk a small box about half of the size of a man's fist, "I wish that you accept this." He placed the box upon the desk and nodded for the Tatoob to pick it up. "A small token of friendship and community of purpose."

Silvestro opened the box. In spite of his determination to maintain a grave and orderly demeanor, his eyes widened like a child visited by Father Christmas. The gift was a pocket watch, its case and chain of solid, gleaming gold, which he, at once, affirmed by scratching at the metal. He put Carranza's watch to his ear and heard the ticking of its heart.

"That is my dedication... engraved on the case," Carranza said. Silvestro turned the watch over, saw Spanish writing, and leaned forward to show it to Solis.

The Colonel, however, had closed his eyes and made a move to stand, but fell forward out of his chair to one knee, and supported himself only by grasping the President's desk. Turning his head, he vomited bile and blood, his last action sparing the treaties and the documents up it. He chin sank against the wood.

Carranza leaned back in his chair then, rising swiftly for one of such girth, circled the desk. "Fernando!" he called out, and a Captain of the Guardia appeared at the door, his pistol drawn. "Summon the doctor!"

The officer disappeared and Silvestro and the President helped Solis to his chair, Carranza solicitously wiping the trail of dribble off the Colonel's chin with his own handkerchief. "It is nothing," the sick man winced, "a memento of the territory and its prison. Forgive me... I can still perform my duties."

"You shall wait for the doctor," Carranza ordered, and when that person, Doctor Pineda, arrived, orders were further given to have the Colonel transported to a bed in the Palace.

"I am familiar with the Colonel's case," Pineda said. "The prison colony ruined his digestion, as may well be understood. These attacks will occur from time to time, and if he is not agitated and takes only bread and milk with alkaline emulsions I shall provide, he will be fine in a few days. But for the present he must rest.”

Over his objections, the Colonel was removed, compromising... at the last... that he walk to bed rather than be carried on a litter. "My duty!" was his last appeal, but Carranza was firm.

"Surely there is someone in this city who speaks the Mayan tongue," the President considered. "I shall have Fernando make inquiries. He'll remain with this jefe until such may arrive. And now, I have business," Carranza added, patting the Colonel on the shoulder, but sniffing also at a bucket of carbolic which the maids had brought to clean the Presidential suite. "Perhaps if you are well, we shall continue these talks tomorrow. Adios."

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