Dustland Requiem (A Bard's Folktale)
Chapter 34. Firm Believer
“Where I come from, it’s important ta’ understand the good side of bad.”
– Lorena’s Prayer book
“I always wanted a pony,” Lorena whispered to Viaje, standing out beneath the stars. She remained low-key behind the motel with Arturo’s mare, occasionally keeping a watchful eye on Geroge sleeping in the driver’s seat of Cris’s car. She drew her fingers through the steed’s mane, looking into her deep dark eyes. So similar to those of Perrito. “I bet you’re not easy ta’ take care of, but I’d treat ya’ right. We’re not that different, after all. Both strong ladies takin’ care of the guys we look after. ‘Course, ya’d probably end up getting killed or running off before long, way things have been.”
Lorena remained with Viaje, keeping herself alert and listening for any wildlife that might pose a threat to either of them. As she stood with the mare, she found herself lost in the mystery of the waning crescent moon. She’d never had time to think about the moon, or the mysteries of life. Mild pains in her gut, however, kept her from pondering the mysteries too deeply. “Figures,” she muttered to herself, forcing a pained grin at her new equine friend.
“What’dya think—ya’ figure Ade’s a bad man?” she asked Viaje, trying to distract herself.
“He’s a man, period. Whether you want to label him good or bad is simply a judgment call,” Arturo spoke up, coming around the side of the motel.
Lorena jumped, startled by his presence. “Arturo,” she hesitated, “before you said Ade killed your brother. Is that true?”
“Word I received was that a man named Adelais killed Alejandro a couple nights ago. Came from a trusted partner, so I’ve no reason to doubt him. Do you?”
Lorena recalled Adelais and Siggy leaving the night they had taken her to the makeshift clinic, thinking about how quiet both of them had been when she’d seen them the next morning. She then thought about her conversation with Adelais on whether Alejandro would ever come back to finish what he’d started.
“The first time I met ‘im—your brother—he tried ta’ choke the life outta me. An’ ya’ just let him.” Lorena turned a sharp eye toward him.
“I’m no more responsible for Alejandro than you are Adelais.”
Lorena drew her fingers through Viaje’s mane once more before taking a step back, directing her full attention to Arturo. “I don’t get you. Ya’ pretend ta’ be all noble, prayin’ at churches and talkin’ about bein’ forced inta’ leadin’ banditos, yet you got no problem killin’ people and defendin’ murders.”
Arturo drew his revolver, looking it over. He opened the cylinder, dropping the rounds in his palm as he shook his dark, curly hair out of his face. He tossed the weapon to Lorena, who fumbled as she tried to catch it.
“Look it over,” he said. “Would you call that weapon evil? Does it plan nothing but the most foul of crimes? Though it is a gift from the Lord of Banditos himself, it is a piece of metal, like this”—he handed her a round—“and nothing more. I am a man who was told he could change the world. Looking around, I did not like the world I saw, so I accepted that charge. However, a new world cannot be built from, nor upon, nothing. It requires resources, time, devotion, manpower. So there are times when I must kill: to gain what I need to fix the evils of our world, to stop wicked men from causing greater catastrophes. Like letting Alejandro choke you to death, so he’d listen when I implored him to ignore an order to murder a village, or agree to turn against Estaban when we were ready.” He took the weapon and loaded a single round, handing it back to her.
“You may call me evil, if you wish, and if you think it better I die now than continue my wicked ways, then take your shot. But I suggest you think about everything that’s transpired, and consider what life will be like for you and your loved ones—Adelais—if Estaban is allowed to continue his rule.”
Lorena made no hesitation, setting the gun at Arturo’s feet. She looked around, checking the ground before taking a seat against the side of the building to relieve the pressure on her ankle. She looked back up to Arturo.
“Good or bad, I ain’t a killer,” she said.
“Good or bad, sometimes I am,” he replied. “That’s why I pray.” He took a seat next to her, looking at his palms. “My hands are responsible for too much filth to ever be clean, but no man may say if that’s true for my spirit. It becomes difficult to see the way forward when the path you’ve left is littered with the dead. So I seek guidance that I may not become lost, like your friend has.”
Lorena leaned her head back, looking up to the sky. She remembered when her mother tried to teach her the constellations: organizing and categorizing the heavens. She’d never paid attention. It didn’t matter what their names were—they were shiny and beautiful, and watched over her. That was all she’d ever needed to know.
“Adelais killed your brother.” She brushed her hair behind her ear, and began tapping her thumb against her thigh. “And you said he’s a bandito. Workin’ for Estaban, I guess that’s kinda true. I dunno if he was right or wrong, and I don’t think I ever will. But he’s ‘bout the only family I got left, and I need ta’ get ‘im back. Ever since Siggy…he’s lost his path, and if I can’t bring ‘im home, he’ll never find it. He went ta’ Estaban to try an’ stop all a’ this, ‘jes like we’re doin’ now.” She looked over to him. “Promise me no matter what, we’ll bring ‘im home.”
Arturo stood up, taking a step closer to his mare. He checked the reins and patted her mane. He nodded to his mare, turning back to Lorena.
“Good men die. You know this already. And yet, you ask me to save the man that murdered my brother.” He turned back to Viaje, untying her from the post behind the inn. “If Adelais can help our cause, then he may be worth saving. But I’ve no sympathy for the devil, or his advocates.” Arturo tossed Viaje’s reins to Lorena. “She likes you, and like you, she thinks too much. Take her out to clear her head. We’ll talk about our plan when you get back.” Arturo walked off, not looking back.
Lorena stood up, watching as Arturo approached a man in a leather duster off in the distance. Changing her focus, she looked down, reins in hand. She walked up to the mare, looking her over as she drew her fingers through the horse’s hair. “What’s on yer mind?” she asked the mare. The steed looked back at her with intrepid eyes.
Lorena checked the mount, gliding her fingers over the rough leather as she adjusted the saddle. She placed her good foot in the iron stirrup, tossing her injured ankle over the side of the saddle. Situated, she took a deep breath as she dug her good heel into Viaje’s rib. The steed began to trot, sauntering away from the inn.
Lorena took some time learning how to ride alone, becoming comfortable with Viaje, and remembering her earlier rides with Arturo. She made a few laps around the town, causing Viaje to pick up the pace each time.
“Inwardly cleansed, interiorly enlightened, an’ inflamed by the fire of the Holy Spirit, may we ever be able to follow in the divine footprints that guide our way…”
As the two became comfortable with each other, they broke into a full gallop, leaving the town behind and heading off for a quiet ride through the darkly clouded desert sky night.