The Black Pearl

  A dozen voices cried, "The Pearl. The Pearl." A dozen more cried, "Show us."

  I tried to look surprised. "What pearl?" I asked.

  I threw up my hands and looked puzzled and went into the office, bolted the door and put the pearl in the safe and sat down at the desk. In a moment a boy peered through the slit in the wall. He was standing on someone's shoulders and soon he began to tell the crowd what he saw. I opened the ledger and this he reported. I wrote something down and this too he reported.

  Outside, the throng grew until by noon it filled the street. The boy peering in at the slit got tired and disappeared. But I sat at my desk and wrote down things that I made up, and thought of the great pearl and hoped that the fleet would come before it was time for me to leave and face the throng again.

  The fleet sailed in at two o'clock. My father must have wondered about the crowd, for he was the first ashore. He came running up the beach and as I opened the door he burst into the office out of breath, fearful of bad news.

  "What passes?" he said.

  The boy was again looking through the slit, but I opened the safe and removed the pearl and held it out to my father.

  "This," I said.

  My father took it in his hand. He turned the pearl over in his palm and said nothing, as if he could not believe what he saw.

  "This is not a pearl," he said.

  "Yes," I said, "a pearl!"

  My father stared at me. "It is a joke," he said. "There is nothing in all the seas of the world like this." He looked at the pearl. "You have made it. You have taken blister pearls and glued them together and polished them carefully on a wheel. You are a very clever young man, Ramón."

  "I have glued nothing," I said. "It is a pearl. I found it."

  The boy who peered at us through the slit shouted to the crowd, repeating my words. A shout went up in the street. My father turned the pearl in his hand and held it to the light and then slowly turned it again. Then he opened the door and held up the pearl so that the sun shone on it and all could see.

  Silence fell over the crowd. There was not a sound except the small waves breaking on the beach. Then my father closed the door and looked at me and said, "Madre de Dios." He said these words three times over and sat down and stared at the great black pearl that filled his hand.

  8

  WHEN MY FATHER AND I WENT HOME that evening it was like a parade. News of the monstrous pearl, found by Ramón the son of Bias Salazar, had spread through the town. It was as if the news had been written across the sky in letters of fire.

  Farmers from the hills, idlers, fishermen, pearlers, merchants from their shops, women and children from everywhere, even Father Gallardo from the church, but not the Sevillano, were in the parade that followed us along the Malecón and up the hill to the plaza. Some carried torches and all sang and shouted to celebrate the great black pearl. For the town of La Paz lives by the finding and selling of pearls and therefore everyone in the town and the country around shares somehow in the fortunes of the sea.

  The crowd followed us to the gates of our house and when we went in, it milled around the plaza and grew larger as more people heard the news of the pearl. It was a bigger celebration than the town has on the Cinco de Mayo.

  In our home is a small workshop where my father changes gems that are not perfect and here he took the great pearl. He closed the door, so the Indian servants could not see what he was about.

  First he placed the pearl on the scales and balanced the weights. "It is 62.3 in carats as you have told me," he said. "And it is exactly round. But you are wrong about its perfection." He held the pearl to the light. "Look, and you will see the smallest of flaws. It lies in the first layer or somewhere beneath, I cannot tell for certain."

  I had seen the flaw already, and because I did not want to see it I had decided that it was too small to be important. "If you cut the pearl, you may find that the flaw goes deep," I said.

  "If the flaw does go deep," my father said, "then it is not a great pearl. Which would you rather have, the Paragon of Pearls or just one that is good?"

  "The Paragon," I said.

  Still I did not wish him to cut the pearl, for I had seen many fine pearls destroyed by this cutting.

  "If the flaw lies deep we have nothing," I said. "Now the flaw is small and whoever buys the pearl may never see it."

  "The flaw will be seen first," my father replied, "and even though the pearl weighs more than sixty carats and is round and of rare orient and color, it is only the flaw that will be talked about. So fetch another lamp and turn up the wick on this one, and while you do this pray that God guides my hand with the knife."

  I turned up the wick and lighted another lamp, as I was told to do, but I did it with my heart beating loud. From the plaza came the sound of singing and through the window I could see the flare of torches. In a moment or two, I feared, there could be nothing to celebrate, for the townspeople or for me or for anyone.

  I began to pray, but somehow the words would not come. I kept hearing the old man's words, "The Manta Diablo will have it someday, the Manta Diablo will have it back." I stared at the pearl and the knife lying beside it. Would Soto Luzon's words come true? Would the knife my father was about to use destroy the pearl forever?

  My father picked up the small, sharp knife whose edge was slightly curved. He took the pearl firmly in one hand and breathed deeply and held his breath and laid the edge of the knife against the pearl. There was the faintest whisper as the knife nicked the surface. Then a peeling that was thinner than the thinnest paper came free and slowly, slowly grew in length and at last, after what seemed an hour, fell lightly upon the table.

  Outside, the singing had grown louder, but here in the room there was not a sound, except the sound of my father breathing again. He put down the knife and held the pearl under the lamp and stared at it for a long time. I watched his face for some sign that the flaw had disappeared. His face did not change.

  My throat was dry and choked with fear. "What do you see?" /tried to say.

  He did not answer me for my words came out in a hoarse jumble that no one could understand. At last he shook his head and again picked up the knife. I walked to the window. I looked out at the night sky and began to pray.

  "Watch," he said. "Someday you may need to do this yourself."

  I came back to the table and stood over him and watched, still praying for the life of the great black pearl, as the knife made its slow, endless circle. Then a curled wafer fell to the table and lay there, dull in the glow of the lamp.

  My father held the pearl to the light and turned it around and around, and studied it from every angle. Suddenly he thrust the pearl high above his head, as if he wished to show it to all the world.

  Then he gave the pearl to me and said, "The flaw is gone. You have in your hand the Pearl of the Universe. The Paragon of Pearls. The great Pearl of Heaven!"

  9

  THERE ARE FOUR PEARL DEALERS in our town of La Paz, as I have said, not counting Salazar and Son. There are many others of course who sell a few small pearls on the street, like the woman at the calabozo. But these are the four who buy and sell the fine pearls that come from the Vermilion Sea.

  About a week after my father had cut the pearl, the four men came to our home. At first my father had talked about taking the great pearl to Mexico City, but he had done this once before with a rare pearl and the long trip had been a failure because the dealers there are very smart. So we decided to sell the Pearl of Heaven to the dealers in La Paz. Not any one of them could afford the price, nor two nor three, but the four together could raise the money we would ask.

  They came early in the afternoon, dressed in their best black suits and carrying a scale and calipers and their money in a crocodile bag. The excitement in the town had died after a couple of days, but when word got around that the dealers were going to the Salazars to buy the great black pearl a crowd followed them and stood outside our gate.

  My mother and my two
sisters had come back from Loreto, for they too had heard the news of the pearl, and so the fountain in the patio was turned on and the parlor was fixed up with flowers and all the furniture shone.

  The four men wore serious faces and they put their calipers and scales on the parlor table and their brown crocodile bag. They sat down and folded their hands and said nothing.

  Then my father said, "The bag is very small, gentlemen. I doubt that it holds enough money to buy the great Pearl of Heaven."

  The four dealers did not like this. One of them, named Arturo Martin, was big and shaped like a barrel and had small white hands.

  "I have heard that the pearl is the size of a grapefruit," he said. "In which case we have more money than we need. For as you know the large ones are of little value."

  "They do not live long, these monsters," said Miguel Palomares, who was as fat as Martin and had a bald head that glistened. "They often die or become dull before a year passes."

  "And so do many of the small ones," my father said. "Like the pink one Señor Palomares sold us last month."

  Señor Palomares shrugged his shoulders.

  "Before I show the Pearl of Heaven," my father said, "I will tell you the price. It is twenty thousand pesos, no more and no less."

  The four men looked at each other and smiled thin smiles, as if to say that they had made up their minds already about what they would pay.

  My father went out of the room and came back with the pearl wrapped in a piece of white velvet. He laid it on the table in front of the four dealers.

  "Now, gentlemen." With a flourish he unwrapped the pearl and stepped back so all of them could see it. "The Pearl of Heaven!"

  The great pearl caught the light, gathered it and softened it into a moon of dark fire. None of the dealers spoke for a moment or two.

  Then Señor Martín said, "It is as I feared, more like a grapefruit than a pearl."

  "It is a monster all right," Señor Palomares said. "The kind that often has a brief life and is very hard to sell."

  One of the dealers who had not spoken cleared his throat and said, "But still we will make an offer."

  The other dealers nodded solemnly.

  "Ten thousand pesos," said Martin.

  Señor Palomares grasped the pearl in a small, white hand and studied it.

  "I think that I see a flaw," he said after a long time. "Ten thousand is too much."

  "There is no flaw," my father said. "And the price, gentlemen, remains twenty thousand pesos."

  The great pearl was passed around to the other dealers and they all turned it in their hands and squinted at it. At last Señor Martin used the calipers and placed the pearl on the scales. His readings were the same as I had made, almost.

  "Eleven thousand pesos," he said.

  "Nine thousand more is required," my father answered. "In your lives you have never seen a pearl like this one nor will you."

  "Twelve thousand," said Señor Palomares.

  After that and for most of an hour the price the dealers offered went up two hundred and fifty pesos at a time until the figure reached the sum of fifteen thousand pesos. And then tempers began to rise and my mother brought in a pitcher of cold juice and a platter of buñuelos. I knew that she wanted to take the dealers' offer, for I stood where I could see her in the hall making gestures to my father. She had set her mind on a beautiful red carriage and four white horses she had seen in Loreto and was fearful of losing her wish if my father did not lower the price.

  Señor Martin wiped his mouth and said, "Fifteen thousand pesos is our last offer."

  "Then," said my father, "I shall take the great pearl to Mexico City and ask twice that amount and sell it without haggling to dealers who know its true worth."

  Señor Palomares picked up the pearl and put it down. His small head was sunk deep in the folds of his fat neck. Suddenly his head came forth like the head of a turtle and he looked at my father who was pacing back and forth.

  "If you remember," he said, "you made the long journey to the City of México once before. And what did you find there? You found that the dealers are not so generous with their money as we are here in La Paz. And you came home after the long journey with your tail between your legs."

  Señor Palomares got to his feet and the others followed him.

  "Fifteen thousand, two hundred and fifty pesos," he said. "This is our final offer."

  My father had not liked what Señor Palomares had said about the journey to Mexico City, for it had long rankled him. Nor had he liked Palomares's picture of him coming home with his tail between his legs. He stopped pacing and motioned to me.

  "Go to the church," he said, "and bring Father Gallardo. Whatever he is doing, see that he comes. Go quickly."

  I ran out the door and into the plaza and past the silent crowd, not knowing why I had been sent on such an errand. I found Father Gallardo taking his afternoon siesta. I awakened him after some difficulty and dragged him back to the house. When we reached the patio I heard Señor Martín say, "We offer five hundred more," and my father answer, "The price is twenty thousand pesos."

  Everybody fell silent as we came in. The four dealers, who had their heads together, looked up. Señor Palomares was holding the pearl and my father strode over and took it from him. Then my father turned to the priest and bowed.

  "Here is the Pearl of Heaven," he said. "My son and I give it to you so that you may give it to the Madonna, our beloved Lady-of-the-Sea, to hold and keep forever."

  A scream went up from the hallway. I think it was my mother who screamed, but it might have been my sister, for she too had been dreaming of things she wished to buy. Then the four men silently picked up their instruments and the brown crocodile bag filled with money and put on their hats and left. As he took the great pearl, Father Gallardo tripped over his long robe and began to stutter. As for me, I had not wished for anything especially, so I looked at my father and felt proud that he had bested the four dealers.

  Then Father Gallardo recovered his voice and tried to speak calmly.

  "We will celebrate the pearl," he said. "It will be the most wondrous celebration La Paz has ever seen in all its history."

  But my mother was not pleased with the gift of the pearl nor was she pleased with the idea of celebrating the gift. She ran into the parlor after Father Gallardo had left and tears were in her eyes.

  "The beautiful pearl is gone," she sobbed.

  "Not gone," said my father. "It will be in the church for everyone to see. And you can go there and see it too."

  "I do not wish to see it again," my mother cried. "The Madonna has many pearls. You could have given Her a smaller one."

  "Because She has only small pearls, I gave Her a big pearl," my father said.

  My mother went over to where he stood and looked up at him and wiped the tears from her eyes.

  "That is not the reason," she said. "You gave the great pearl because you were angry with the dealers. You gave it away to spite them."

  "No, it was a gift from the House of Salazar," my father said proudly. "And for this gift of the great pearl, the greatest pearl ever found in all the Vermilion Sea, the House of Salazar shall be favored in Heaven, now and forever."

  My mother said nothing more, but when Father Gallardo held his celebration she felt a headache and stayed at home.

  10

  FATHER GALLARDO'S CELEBRATION took place five days later.

  The church blazed with candles, and flowers decked the altar, and the air was sweet with incense. The young Madonna stood in Her niche dressed in a white satin gown, with garlands of daisies braided through Her hair. In Her outstretched hand lay the great black pearl.

  The church was filled and the people flowed through the big door and out into the plaza. Never before had our town of La Paz seen such a multitude. They came on foot, on burro and on horseback from as far away as Loreto in the north and Santo Tomás in the south. They even came by canoe from the bare islands of the Vermilion Sea. And there we
re also a band of Indians from the wild barrancas of the Sierra Morena dressed in rabbit skins. Their presence pleased Father Gallardo.

  "The pearl has worked a miracle," he said. "For many years I have tried to coax these savages into my church but failed."

  After the services the Madonna was placed on a bower festooned with flowers and borne twice around the plaza while the people sang and danced. Then She was carried down to the sea to bless the Salazar fleet.

  This was my father's idea, the blessing of the fleet. It was to show my mother that the great black pearl already had won the favor of Heaven, and a sign that the House of Salazar would always prosper.

  And this is why the Madonna was borne down to the sea, and on the shore Father Gallardo stood beside the Madonna with the crowd gathered around him. On the quiet water of the bay rode our five blue boats, each one fresh-painted and strung with streamers of bright paper.

  "We ask Your protection for these boats," Father Gallardo said, raising his arms. "Speed them to the pearling grounds and bring them safely home. We ask that You bless the House of Salazar that has so honored our church this day, that they may find another pearl as large as the one they have given."

  After Father Gallardo had blessed the fleet, the Madonna was carried through the streets again. In Her hand lay the Pearl of Heaven so that everyone could see it once more. And to the throng that gathered around the Madonna and Her pearl, as the procession wound back to the church, it was a wonderful day. For to those who had little and to those who had nothing, the pearl also belonged to each of them, to dream of the rest of their lives.

  When the Madonna was placed in Her niche, I knelt before Her and gave thanks that I had found the pearl that so many now would cherish for their own. And as I walked out of the church, if for a moment I imagined all the boats the pearl would have bought, enough to build a dozen fleets, it was a thought that quickly vanished.

  The Sevillano called to me. He was standing outside the church, dressed in tight trousers and a ruffled shirt that was open and showed the tattoos on his chest.