THE INSURGENCE of
CHAN SANTA CRUZ
BOOK NINE:
BOOK of the JAGUAR PRIEST
CHAPTER
TWENTY NINE
Upon every
instance that Octaviano Solis resolved to put an end
to his travails by hiring some leprero to send the
witch on her way to Hell, he was brought up short by the Tatoob's
innocent infatuation. Silvestro was as proud of his
spectacles as he was of Carranza's watch, which Maria wound for him, and he
often removed the one, put on the other to observe the ceaseless sweep of
passing minutes. Saturday they spent the morning at a haberdasher's and, when
the Colonel next saw his charge, Silvestre had exchanged the uniform for a
cutaway and striped pants... the attire of a diplomat, a millionaire or jefe
politico, down, even, to the cashmere overcoat, boutonniere, silver-knobbed walking
stick and top hat. Amazingly, the General did not inspire ridicule from the capitaleños, but, rather, their admiration. Even the august
patrons of the Club New York and their more worldly cousins in the Jockey Club
directed their gaze towards Silvestro and their nods
were of approval.
Notice
finally had arrived of a package for the Tatoob, and
the Colonel handed him a package wrapped in paper. "Here is your portrait.
Open it."
Within,
mounted on thick, brown cardboard, were the photographs taken at the airstrip.
These had a curious effect upon Silvestro; he raised
his hand to his own face and felt at his cheeks and nose as if to reassure himself they were still there. Hesitantly he asked whether
Solis could have a mirror brought to their table, and spent some anxious
moments pondering his reflection. At length he seemed content nothing was
missing as he smiled, but placed the photographs inside his coat and would not
take them out again.
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– “THE INSURGENCE of CHAN SANTA CRUZ”
RETURN to GENERISIS HOMEPAGE