THE INSURGENCE of
CHAN SANTA CRUZ
BOOK NINE:
BOOK of the JAGUAR PRIEST
CHAPTER
FORTY FIVE
Time brought the returning General
ever closer to his city of the Holy Cross. The train from Merida terminated at
the town of Peto at three in the morning, leaving the
Tatoob to pass one of the most uncomfortable hours of
his life. "I have been singled out to be assassinated," he said to Octaviano Solis more than once, and he waited at the
station with his back against the wall; the watch Carranza had given to him in
his hand ticking down the minutes until the little Decauville
to Santa Cruz was loaded with provisions and ready to depart.
They were, to the relief of the
suspicious Tatoob, the only passengers.
"How is that reckoned?"
asked the Colonel, who was most displeased to hear such talk... for reason that
when a thought is spoken aloud, he believed, such utterance brings it that much
closer to realization. He reached for his pistol. "Do you know who these
assassins are?"
Silvestro
turned a pitying smile upon Solis. "Does this matter? I am a great man,
and it is the curse of great man that those who envy them send assassins."
And he shook his head as if viewing a moving picture of his life and death.
"Socrates and Caesar and the American, Abram Lincoln. Madero, Juarez and
Hidalgo... all taken away."
Such tragic vanity made Solis sneeze
and he wished for even a simple refreshment, some shaved ice and fruit syrup.
Maria was sprawled atop a bed of baggage, stirring as a breath of the moon
lifted the Tatoob's words away; sitting up, fussing
with her hair. Confined to a cardboard
box into which holes had been punched, her little dog barked dismally.
"Where are... do you think that
this hat is proper?" she asked Solis, for Silvestro
had inched further along, looking for assassins. "First impressions are so
very important and I do want these people to know that I am a lady... the
Governor's wife... without appearing too stuck up." And Pablito commenced even stronger barking from the box in
which he had been placed.
"They will be fond of you, no
matter which you choose," the Colonel said. But, to humor her, he
expressed a preference for a brown, conical straw hat which would be less
obtrusive, as well as providing more shade than some of the flat Parisian
headpieces of shrieking colors and exotic feathers.
"I cannot move," Silvestro said when the Ingenario
of the Decauville came to tell them to bring their
bags. This was a professional, a half-indian Mexican
from Tamaulipas who had come to Santa Cruz as a prisoner... a collaborator with
bandits... but had been given a good job on the railroad by Garcilazo
and, to date, had escaped the notice of the noveau
regime. After the Mexicans departed he'd remained behind, for who knew what
enemies remained in his home state, adjacent to that of a President who had a
great dislike of thieves as vulgar competitors. And, since the plague, he had
taken a wife and two mistresses, had children by all, and was as respectable a
fellow as any dzulob, or half dzulob,
could be in the Territory. The Cruzob had recognized
him as Superintendent of Railways; a job that consisted of steering the Decauville west to Peto and back,
or east to Vigia Chico, and giving orders to the boys
who loaded baggage and sat upon it with their rifles to drive off bandits.
"Set out a thief to catch a
thief," Porfirio Diaz had said in establishing
the Rurales, and Silvestro had followed this advice.
But even his own engineer could be the lurking Judas, the Brutus with his
dagger.
"You've faced death long
enough," the Colonel said, patting the Tatoob on
the shoulder. "After so many years, it should become second nature."
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– “THE INSURGENCE of CHAN SANTA CRUZ”
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