Bless Me, Ultima

  Just before Christmas the snows and winds of the llano locked the land in an icy grip. After school the playgrounds were quickly deserted, and if you had to stay after school it was eerie and lonely to walk alone through the deserted streets. Snows alternated with the wind of the llano, the coldest wind of the world. The snows would melt then the wind would freeze the water into ice. Then the snows would come again. The river was completely frozen over. The great trees that lined the banks looked like giant snowmen huddling together for warmth. On the llano the cattlemen struggled to feed their herds. Many animals were lost, and the talk was always about the terrible cold of this winter that competed with other years lost in the memories of the old people.

  The entire school looked forward eagerly to Christmas vacation. The two weeks would be a welcome relief from trudging back and forth to school. The last thing we looked forward to doing in school was the presentation of the play we had done in Miss Violet’s room. Actually the girls had done the work, but we all took credit for it.

  No one had expected the blizzard that blew in the night before we were to give our play. “¡Madre mía!” I heard my mother cry. I looked over frosty, frozen blankets and saw my small window entirely covered with ice. With the cold hugging me like death I dressed and ran steaming into the warm kitchen. “Look!” my mother said. She had cleaned a small spot on the icy window. I looked out and saw a white countryside, desolate except where ripples of blue broke the snowdrifts.

  “The girls will not go to school today,” she said to Ultima, “what’s one day. Deborah, Theresa!” she called up the stairs, “stay in bed! The snow has covered the goat path!”

  I heard squeals and giggles from upstairs.

  “Will Tony go?” Andrew asked, walking to the stove and shivering, dressed to do battle with the snow drifts.

  “I have to go,” I answered, “the play is today—”

  “It is not good,” Ultima whispered. She did not mean the play, she meant something in the weather because I saw her raise her head slightly as if to sniff the scent of the wind outside.

  “It’s only one day, Tony,” Andrew said, coming to sit at the breakfast table.

  “It is good for him,” my mother said. She served us bowls of steaming atole and hot tortillas. “If he is to be a priest, he should learn early about sacrifice—”

  Andrew looked at me and I at him, but we didn’t speak. Instead Andrew asked, “How about work at the highway? Has it opened up?”

  “Ay no,” my mother said, “the ground is frozen. Your father has been home two weeks—only the salt trucks are out.”

  “What’s the play about, Tony?” Andrew asked.

  “Christ,” I said.

  “What part do you play?”

  “A shepherd.”

  “You think you should go to school?” he inquired. I knew he was concerned because the snow was so deep.

  “Yes,” I nodded.

  “How about you, Andrés?” my mother asked, “I thought today was your day off at the store—”

  “It is,” Andrew answered, “just going to pick up my check.”

  “And see your girl,” my mother smiled.

  “No girl,” Andrew frowned. “Come on, Tony.” He rose and put on his jacket. “Let’s get going.”

  My mother tucked me into my jacket and put my wool cap on my head. “My man of learning,” she smiled and kissed my forehead. “Que dios te bendiga.”

  “Gracias,” I said. “Adiós, Ultima.” I went to her and gave her my hand.

  “Take care of the evil in the wind,” she whispered and bent low to kiss my cheek. “Sí,” I answered. I put my hand to my chest where I wore her scapular and she nodded.

  “Come on!” Andrew called from the door. I ran after him and followed him down the goat path, trying to step in his footsteps where he broke the snow. The early morning sun was shining and everything was bright. It hurt my eyes to see so much whiteness. “Perhaps the blizzard will lift now…” Andrew puffed ahead of me. In the west the clouds were still dark, but I said nothing. It was slow walking through the thick snow, and by the time we got to the bridge our feet were wet, but it was not cold.

  “There’s the Kid.” It was the first time I had ever seen the Kid standing still. He and Samuel had caught sight of us and were waiting.

  “Race!” the Kid called as we came up.

  “Not today,” Andrew answered, “you’re liable to break your neck on that ice.” He nodded and we looked down the ice-covered sidewalk of the bridge. Cars had splashed ice water onto the sidewalk and overnight it had frozen solid. We had to pick our way carefully across the bridge. Still the Kid did not trust us. He walked just ahead of us, backwards, so that he could see us at all times.

  “Did you hear about the fight last night?” Samuel asked. He walked quietly beside us. Our breath made plumes in the crisp, raw air. Down in the river the water, bushes, trees, everything was covered with ice. The sun from the east sparkled on everything and created a frozen fairyland.

  “No,” Andrew said. “Who?”

  “Tenorio and Narciso—”

  I listened carefully. I still remembered Tenorio’s threat.

  “Where?”

  “At the Longhorn.”

  “Drunk?”

  “Drinking—”

  “Who told you?”

  “My father was there. My father was drinking with Narciso,” Samuel said, “then Tenorio came in from El Puerto. Tenorio was cursing la Grande, Ultima. Then he cursed Narciso in front of the men. But it wasn’t until he cursed all of the people of Las Pasturas that Narciso got up and pulled that funny little beard that grows on Tenorio’s face—”

  “Ha!” Andrew laughed. “Serves that old bastard right!”

  Samuel continued, “My father says it will not end at that—”

  We reached the end of the bridge and the Kid jumped across. He had won the walking race.

  “Where will it end?” I asked Samuel.

  “It will only end when blood is spilled,” Samuel said. “My father says that the blood of a man thickens with the desire for revenge, and if a man is to be complete again then he must let some of that thick blood flow—”

  We stopped and it was very quiet. One car started across the bridge. It moved very slowly, its tires slipping on the ice. Up ahead a few of the gas station owners could be seen sweeping snow from their driveways. Everyone was hoping the blizzard had lifted. Everyone was sick of the cold.

  “They are drunks with nothing better to do than argue like old women,” Andrew laughed. “Perhaps your father would be right if he were talking of men.”

  “Drunks and devils are also men,” Samuel countered.

  “Ah!” Andrew puffed white steam, “you guys run on to school. See you tonight, Tony.”

  “See you,” I waved. The Kid had already bolted away. I ran to keep up with Samuel.

  The schoolhouse was quiet, like a tomb frozen over by winter. The buses didn’t come in because of the blizzard, and even most of the town kids stayed home. But Horse and Bones and the rest of the gang from Los Jaros were there. They were the dumbest kids in school, but they never missed a single day. Hell could freeze over but they would still come marching across the tracks, wrestling, kicking at each other, stomping into the classrooms where they fidgeted nervously all day and made things miserable for their teachers.

  “Where are the girls?” Bones sniffed the wind wildly and plunked into a frozen desk.

  “They didn’t come,” I answered.

  “Why?” “¡Chingada!” “What about the play?”

  “I don’t know,” I said and pointed to the hall where Miss Violet conferred with the other teachers who had come to school. They all wore their sweaters and shivered. Downstairs the furnace groaned and made the steam radiators ping, but it was still cold.

  “No play, shit!” Abel moaned.

  Miss Violet came in. “What did you say, Abel?”

  “No play, shucks,” Abel said.

  “We
can still have a play,” Miss Violet sat down and we gathered around her, “if the boys play the parts—”

  We all looked at each other. The girls had set up all the stuff in the auditorium; and they had, with Miss Violet’s help, composed the story about the three wise men. Originally we just stood around and acted like shepherds, but now we would have to do everything because the girls stayed home.

  “Yeahhhhhh!” Horse breathed on Miss Violet.

  “The other teachers don’t have much to do, with so many kids absent,” she turned away from the inquisitive Horse, “and they would like to come to our play—”

  “Aghhhh Nooooo,” Bones growled.

  “We have to read all the parts,” Lloyd said. He was carefully picking at his nose.

  “We could practice all morning,” Miss Violet said. She looked at me.

  “I think it’s a great idea,” Red nodded his head vigorously. He always tried to help the teacher.

  “¡A la veca!”

  “What does that mean?” Miss Violet asked.

  “It means okay!”

  So the rest of the morning we sat around reading the parts for the play. It was hard because the kids from Los Jaros couldn’t read. After lunch we went to the auditorium for one quick practice before the other teachers came in with their classes. Being on stage scared us and some of the boys began to back down. Bones climbed up a stage rope and perched on a beam near the ceiling. He refused to come down and be in the play.

  “Boooooooo-enz!” Miss Violet called, “come down!”

  Bones snapped down at her like a cornered dog. “The play is for sissies!” he shouted.

  Horse threw a chunk of a two-by-four at him and almost clobbered him. The board fell and hit the Kid and knocked him out cold. It was funny because although he turned white and was out, his legs kept going, like he was racing someone across the bridge. Miss Violet worked frantically to revive him. She was very worried.

  “Here.” Red had gone for water which he splashed on the Kid’s face. The Kid groaned and opened his eyes.

  “¡Cabrón Caballo!” he cursed.

  The rest of us were either putting on the silly robes and towels to make us look like shepherds, or wandering around the stage. Someone tipped the Christ child over and it lost its head.

  “There ain’t no such thing as virgin birth,” Florence said looking down at the decapitated doll. He looked like a madman, with his long legs sticking out beneath the short robe and his head wound in a turban.

  “You’re all a bunch of sissies!” Bones shouted from above. Horse aimed the two-by-four again but Miss Violet stopped him in time.

  “Go put the head on the doll,” she said.

  “I gotta go to the bathroom,” Abel said. He held the front of his pants.

  Miss Violet nodded her head slowly, closed her eyes and said, “No.”

  “You could be sued for not letting him go,” Lloyd said in his girlish voice. He was chewing on a Tootsie Roll. Chocolate dripped down the sides of his mouth and made him look evil.

  “I could also be tried for murder!” Miss Violet reached for Lloyd, but he ducked and disappeared behind one of the cardboard cows by the manger.

  “Come on you guys, let’s cooperate!” Red shouted. He had been busy trying to get everyone to stand in their places. We had decided to make everyone stand in one place during the play. It would be easier that way. Only the kings would step forth to the manger and offer their gifts.

  “Places! Places!” Miss Violet shouted. “Joseph?” she called and I stepped forward. “Mary? Who is Mary?”

  “Horse!” Red answered.

  “No! No! No!” Horse cried. We chased him down on the stage and knocked over a lot of the props, but we finally got the beautiful blue robe on him.

  “Horse is a virgin!” Bones called.

  “¡Aghhhhh! ¡Cabrón!” Horse started up the rope but we pulled him down.

  “Horse! Horse!” Miss Violet tried to subdue him. “It’s only for a little while. And no one will know. Here.” She put a heavy veil on his head and tied it around his face so that it covered all except his eyes.

  “¡Naggggggh!” Horse screamed. It was awful to hear him cry, like he was in pain.

  “I’ll give you an A,” Miss Violet said in exasperation. That made Horse think. He had never gotten an A in anything in his life.

  “An A,” he muttered, his large horse jaws working as he weighed the disgrace of his role for the grade. “Okay,” he said finally, “okay. But remember, you said an A!”

  “I’ll be your witness,” Lloyd said from behind the cow.

  “Horse is a virgin!” Bones sang, and Horse quit the job and we had to persuade him all over again.

  “Bones is just jealous,” Red convinced him.

  “Come down!” Miss Violet yelled at Bones.

  “Gimme an A,” Bones growled.

  “All right,” she agreed.

  He thought awhile then yelled, “No, gimme two A’s!”

  “Go to—” She stopped herself and said, “Stay up there. But if you fall and break your neck it’s not my fault!”

  “You could be sued by his family for saying that,” Lloyd said. He wiped his mouth and the chocolate spread all over his face.

  “I got to pee—” Abel groaned.

  “Horse, kneel here.” Horse was to kneel by the manger and I stood at his side, with one hand on his shoulder. When I put my arm around his shoulder Horse’s lips sputtered and I thought he would bolt. His big horse-eyes looked up at me nervously. One of the cardboard donkeys kept tipping over and hitting Horse, this only served to make him more nervous. Some of the kids were stationed behind the cardboard animals to keep them up, and they giggled and kept looking around the edges at each other. They started a spit-wad game and that really made Miss Violet angry.

  “Please behave!” she shouted. “Pleeeeeeee-z!” The Vitamin Kid had recovered and was running around the stage. She collared him and made him stand in one spot. “Kings here,” she said. I guess someone had put the robe on the Kid when he was knocked out, because otherwise no one could have held him long enough to slip the robe on.

  “Does everybody have copies of the play?” Red shouted. “If you have to look at the lines, keep the script hidden so the audience doesn’t see—”

  “I can seeeeee—” It was Bones. He leaned to look down at Florence’s copy of the play and almost fell off the rafter. We all gasped, but he recovered. Then he bragged, “Tarzuuuuuuun, king of the jungle!” And he started calling elephants like Tarzan does in the movie, “Aghhh-uhhhh-uhhhh-uhhhhhhhhh—”

  “¡Cabrón!” “¡Chingada!” Everyone was laughing.

  “Bones,” Miss Violet pleaded. I thought she was going to cry. “Please come down.”

  “I ain’t no sissy!” he snarled.

  “You know, I’m going to have to report you to the principal—”

  Bones laughed. He had been spanked so many times by the principal that it didn’t mean anything anymore. They had become almost like friends, or like enemies that respected each other. Now when Bones was sent in for misbehaving he said the principal just made him sit. Then, Bones said, the principal very slowly lit a cigarette and smoked it, blowing rings of smoke in Bones’ face all the while. Bones liked it. I guess they both got a satisfaction out of it. When the cigarette was gone and its light crushed in the ashtray Bones was excused. Then Bones went back to the room and told the teacher he had really gotten it this time and he promised to be a good boy and not break any rules. But five minutes later he broke a rule, and of course he couldn’t help it because they said his brother who worked in the meat market had brought Bones up on raw meat.

  “I ain’t got page five,” Abel cried. His face was red and he looked sick.

  “You don’t need page five, your lines are on page two,” Red told him. He was very good about helping Miss Violet; I only wished I could help more. But the kids wouldn’t listen to me because I wasn’t big like Red, and besides, there I was stuck with
my arm around Horse.

  “Florence by the light—” Tall angelic Florence moved under the light bulb that was the star of the east. When the rest of the lights were turned off the light bulb behind Florence would be the only light. “Watch your head—”

  “Everybody ready?” The three wise men were ready, Samuel, Florence, and the Kid. Horse and I were ready. The fellows holding up the cardboard animals were ready, and Red was ready.

  “Here they come,” Miss Violet whispered. She stepped into the wings.

  I glanced up and saw the screaming horde of first graders rushing down the aisle to sit in the front rows. The fourth and fifth graders sat behind them. Their teachers looked at the stage, shook their heads and left, closing the doors behind them. The audience was all ours.

  “I got to pee,” Abel whispered.

  “Shhhhhh,” Miss Violet coaxed, “everybody quiet.” She hit the light switch and the auditorium darkened. Only the star of the east shone on stage. Miss Violet whispered for Red to begin. He stepped to the center of the stage and began his narration.

  “The First Christmas!” he announced loudly. He was a good reader.

  “Hey, it’s Red!” someone in the audience shouted, and everybody giggled. I’m sure Red blushed, but he went on; he wasn’t ashamed of stuff like that.

  “I got to—” Abel moaned.

  Lloyd began to unwrap another Tootsie Roll and the cow he was holding teetered. “The cow’s moving,” someone in the first row whispered. Horse glanced nervously behind me. I was afraid he would run. He was trembling.

  “—And they were led by the star of the east—” and here Red pointed to the light bulb. The kids went wild with laughter. “—So they journeyed that cold night until they came to the town of Bethlehem—”

  “Abel peed!” Bones called from above. We turned and saw the light of the east reflecting off a golden pool at Abel’s feet. Abel looked relieved.

  “¡Ah la veca!” “¡Puto!”

  “How nasty,” Lloyd scoffed. He turned and spit a mouthful of chewed-up Tootsie Roll. It landed on Maxie, who was holding up a cardboard donkey behind us.