Chapter Fifty-Two

Now water had been found, the more expert well-diggers remained at the site to pound the pipe deeper into the aquifer, then add a tap and pump. Everyone else returned to the house and prepared for the evening's festival. The goats were removed from the spits, carved, and the meat stacked onto waiting platters. Quick-cooking foods that had been prepped earlier in the day were now put onto the fire. Bread came out of dome-shaped mud ovens and kettles of beans were pulled out of their beds of hot coals. Tables and benches were improvised, blankets spread on the ground for picnic-style feasting, dishes and silverware of all description set in a common area. Children scurried to and fro to set out utensils, cups, and bottles of home-brewed beer. A CD player and speakers were brought out, fresh with precious batteries, and on a side table were cakes, pies, cookies and a big bowl of rice pudding, all covered with a sheet to keep away flies and to minimize their temptation to small children.

When the men came trooping back, tired and wet, freshly scrubbed with well water, Señora Montoya sent three of the older children with a clean washtub to get water for everyone to drink.

All was almost ready when Doña Alma approached José Montoya. "Yo me voy.”

José's eyebrows went up in surprise. "No, Doña, please stay. Disfrute la fiesta.”

The curandera was firm. "És su fiesta," she said. "Your party. For you and your family. Me voy ahorita."

He had no choice but to let her go. He sent Carlitos and Jimmy to get the horses and directed Pete to bring Doña Alma her pay— a goat and kid, which he tethered to the little girl's saddle. Then the entire company wandered down to the gate to see the wise woman off. Before she could mount her horse, her eyes met Donovan's in the crowd and her satisfied expression clouded. She beckoned to Carina. "Aquel hombre," the woman whispered, clutching Carina's arm. "Es peligroso."

Carina smiled and patted her hand. "No Doña. He's very kind."

"No es malo," the curandera tried to clarify. "Not a bad man, pero. . ." she frowned, searching for a way to make herself understood. "Falta coraje."

Carina stole an anxious glance over her shoulder at Donovan, who at the moment did indeed look like the coward Doña Alma claimed him to be.

"Es débil," the woman continued. And before Carina could protest that Donovan had taken his place at the well with a sledgehammer and wasn't weak at all, the woman added, "Es débil en el espíritu, en el alma." She tapped her chest for emphasis, then she mounted her waiting horse and placed a gentle hand on Carina's hair. "You know what I say?"

"Yes, but—"

"Bueno." Doña Alma kicked her horse with her heels and moved toward José, who had been watching her curiously. After flicking his eyes toward Carina, he gave Doña Alma a bow and made a small speech thanking her for saving his farm and family. The curandera accepted his thanks, blessed him and each family member individually, offered a blessing to the assembled crowd and then moved her horse onto the road. Her attendants fell in behind her, the goats bleating, their bells jingling. The crowd devoutly watched them retreat down the road until they were a cloud of dust mingling with the setting sun.

"Bendígala, Dios!" someone said aloud.

"Yes," someone else chimed in. "God bless her."

"And God bless the food," José added. "Let's go eat."

* * *

The feasting went on past sundown, and after everyone had his fill, someone pulled out a guitar and someone else grabbed an accordion. Tables, chairs and benches were moved out of the way for dancing. Donovan didn't know the country dances and sat out at first, watching as Carina and Amalia danced to the Spanish and native rhythms of the local music, taking their turns with the Garza boys and each of the men in turn. Although Carina was an enthusiastic dancer, it surprised him that Amalia was the more graceful one. He tried to ignore both women's increasingly frequent glances toward him, embarrassed that he didn't know these local dances.

Diana ran up to him. "Aren't you going to dance?" She tugged his hand.

"I don't know how to dance to this kind of music."

She furrowed her brow in confusion. "It's just ordinary dancing. Come on."

With a little patience and a lot of laughter, Diana soon had Donovan doing some of the simpler steps, but as he moved through the crowd with her, he still didn't feel confident in approaching Amalia, who obviously knew these dances well. At last he felt like he could cut in on Carina, though. He handed off Diana to Lupe Garza. "Isn't this fun?" Carina said, clasping his hand for the twirling maneuver that Donovan was still having difficulty with. Fortunately for his ego, she was no better.

"It would be more fun if they played something I knew how to dance to."

"It doesn't matter if you know the steps," she said, demonstrating by missing a beat in the music. "None of us are any good, either. We don't get enough practice."

"Your sister is good." Donovan looked to where she was executing a perfect twirl with Grandpa Peterson.

"She doesn't count. She can dance to anything."

Suddenly Lupe cut in. "She wants to dance with you again," he told Donovan, depositing Diana in front of him and leading Carina away.

"Is that true?"

"You're better than he is."

"He must be pretty bad, then."

"He steps on my feet."

The musicians were tiring. They finished a song, and then stopped for a break. Someone put on a CD and although Donovan didn't know the song, he knew the style. He had danced to this type of music as a kid. Diana launched into the dance with enthusiasm, bouncing and swaying as if it were a song written just for her.

Donovan scanned the group. Carina was dancing with José, but Amalia was gone. He caught a glimpse of her yellow dress by the refreshment table and thought she looked unhappy. He handed Diana off to Pete, who had been dancing with a smug, aggressive girl who appeared to be making his life miserable. It obviously wasn’t easy being one of the only teenage boys around. Rid of Diana for the moment, he moved toward the refreshment table, but by now Amalia had wandered into the fields, her pale dress visible against the dark of the land. He came up behind her. "Why did you leave? I hadn't gotten to dance with you yet."

"You danced with Carina. I figured if you wanted to dance with me, you would’ve."

"It's a little intimidating to cut in on someone who's so good."

"That didn't put anyone else off, and I'm not so good as all that. Anyone can do it."

"Teach me, then."

"Out here?"

"Why not?"

She laughed. "All right. What do you want to learn? You were doing okay there at the end."

"Show me how to do that twirl thing you were doing with Peterson."

Indulgently, she walked him through the moves. Back at the party, the band started up again and the strains of their instruments carried faintly to the drought-hardened bean field. They picked up the beat and Amalia danced with real enthusiasm this time. When the song ended, she leaned back in Donovan's arms. "That was nice. You dance well."

"It's easy when you have a good partner and no one watching."

Amalia was silent for a long time. "Thank you for following me out here," she finally said. "Alan was a good dancer. Sometimes parties bring back too many memories."

"I'll dance with you anytime you want. Loneliness is optional, you know."

Amalia pulled away. "Save your flirtations for the girls your own age, or haven't you noticed them watching you tonight?"

"I'm not interested in the local girls. They're all looking for husbands."

"And you'd rather have fun without the commitment."

"You make it sound like a crime."

Amalia considered. "No. I think I'm beginning to understand the temptation."

Next>>
<<Previous