B004QGYWKI EBOK (14 page)

“Let go of his reins. You’re choking him.”

Juan loosened the reins and the animal calmed down.

“You haven’t answered me,” David said. “Have you forgotten why we went looking for him?”

“No,” Juan answered. “I haven’t forgotten.”

Two hours later they reached Camilo’s cabin, built on a promontory between the ranch house and the stables. Before the brothers drew to a halt, the cabin door opened and Camilo appeared in the doorway. Straw hat in hand, head lowered with respect, he came toward them and stopped between the two horses, whose reins he clasped.

“Everything all right?” David asked.

Camilo shook his head no. “Miss Leonor…”

“What’s happened to Leonor?” Juan interrupted, standing up in the stirrups.

In his slow, muddled speech, Camilo explained that from her bedroom window Miss Leonor had seen the brothers leave at dawn and that when they were only about a thousand yards from the house, she had appeared on the grounds in boots and riding outfit, shouting orders for her horse to be saddled. Following David’s instructions, Camilo refused to obey her. Then, by herself, she entered the stables resolutely and, like a man, with her own hands, placed the saddle, blankets and equipment on the roan, the ranch’s smallest and most nervous horse, which was also her favorite.

When she was ready to mount, the servants from the house and Camilo himself had held her back; for a long while they endured insults and slaps from the exasperated girl, who argued and begged and demanded that they let her follow after her brothers.

“But,” David stopped him, “did she know we…?”

Always going slowly, taking care to choose his words and give them a humble and respectful turn, Camilo replied that yes, the girl knew where her brothers had gone.

“Oh, she’ll pay for that!” David said. “It’s Jacinta, I’m sure of it. She heard us talking that night with Leandro when she was serving dinner. It was her.”

The girl had been very much affected, Camilo went on. After insulting and scratching the maids and himself, she began crying loudly and went back to the house. She had remained there ever since, shut up in her room.

The brothers left their horses with Camilo and headed for the house.

“Leonor mustn’t know one word about this,” Juan said.

“Of course not,” David said. “Not one word.”

Leonor knew they had gotten back by the dogs’ barking. She was half asleep when a hoarse growl broke the night and under her window a panting animal passed by like a streak of lightning. It was Spooky. She recognized his frantic pacing and his unmistakable howling. Immediately, she heard the lazy trot and dull yowl of Domitila, the pregnant bitch. The dogs’ aggressiveness stopped abruptly; the barking gave way to the eager panting with which they always greeted David. Through a slit in the blinds she saw her brothers approaching the house and heard the sound of the front door opening and closing. She waited for them to come upstairs and reach her room. When she opened the door, Juan was stretching out his hand to knock.

“Hello, little Leonor,” David said.

She let them hug her and she brushed their foreheads with her lips, but she did not kiss them. Juan lit the lamp.

“Why didn’t you let me know? You should have told me. I wanted to overtake you but Camilo wouldn’t let me. You have to punish him, David. If you’d seen how he grabbed me. He’s disobedient and rude. I kept begging him to let me go and he wouldn’t pay any attention to me.”

She had started speaking forcefully, but her voice broke. Her hair was uncombed and she was barefoot. David and Juan tried to calm her by stroking her hair, smiling at her, calling her baby sister.

“We didn’t want to upset you,” David explained. “Besides, we decided to go at the last minute. You were still asleep.”

“What happened?” Leonor asked.

Juan took a blanket off the bed and put it around his sister. Leonor had stopped crying. She was pale; her mouth was half open and her gaze was filled with anxiety.

“Nothing,” David said. “Nothing happened. We didn’t find him.”

The tension vanished from Leonor’s face and an expression of relief came to her lips.

“But we will find him,” David said. With a vague gesture he indicated to Leonor that she should go to bed. Then he turned around.

“Just a second; don’t go,” Leonor said.

Juan had not moved.

“Yes?” David said. “What’s the matter, Leonor?”

“Don’t go looking for him anymore.”

“Don’t you worry,” David said. “Forget about all that. It’s a matter for men. Leave it to us.”

Then Leonor started crying again, this time with wild gestures. She raised her hands to her head, her whole body seemed electrified and her wailing alarmed the dogs, who began barking under her window. With a gesture, David signaled to Juan to do something, but the younger brother stood silent and motionless.

“All right, Leonor,” David said. “Don’t cry. We won’t go looking for him.”

“That’s a lie. You’re going to kill him. I know you.”

“No I won’t,” David said. “If you think that skunk doesn’t deserve to be punished…”

“He didn’t do a thing to me,” Leonor said very quickly, biting her lips.

“Don’t think about it anymore,” David insisted. “We’ll forget all about him. Calm down, Leonor.”

Leonor went on crying; her cheeks and lips were moist and the blanket had fallen to the floor.

“He didn’t do anything to me,” she repeated. “It was a lie.”

“Do you know what you’re saying?” David asked.

“I couldn’t stand his following me everywhere,” Leonor stammered. “He was after me all day long, like a shadow.”

“It’s my fault,” David said bitterly. “It’s dangerous for a woman to walk around the countryside by herself. I ordered him to protect you. I shouldn’t have trusted an Indian. They’re all alike.”

“He didn’t do anything to me, David,” Leonor cried. “Believe me, I’m telling you the truth. Ask Camilo; he knows nothing happened. That’s why he helped him get away. Didn’t you know that? Yes, it was him. I told him to. I only wanted to get free of him, that’s why I invented that story. Camilo knows everything; ask him.”

Leonor dried her cheeks with the back of her hand. She picked up the blanket and threw it over her shoulders. She seemed to have shaken off a nightmare.

“We’ll talk about this tomorrow,” David said. “We’re tired now. We’ve got to sleep.”

“No,” Juan said.

Leonor became aware how close her brother was: she had forgotten that Juan was there too. His forehead was full of wrinkles; the wings of his nose were throbbing, like Spooky’s snout.

“You’re going to repeat what you just said,” Juan said to her in a strange way. “You’re going to repeat how you lied to us.”

“Juan,” David said. “I hope you’re not going to believe her. She’s trying to trick us now.”

“I’ve told the truth,” Leonor roared. She was looking from one brother to the other. “I ordered him to leave me alone that day and he wouldn’t. I went to the river and there he was, behind me. I couldn’t even go swimming in peace. He’d stand there, sizing me up on the sly, like an animal. Then I came and told you that.”

“Juan, wait,” David said. “Where’re you going? Wait!”

Juan had turned around and was heading toward the door; when David tried to stop him, he exploded. Like someone possessed, he began shouting insults: he called his sister a whore and his brother a swine and a tyrant. Violently he pushed David, who tried in vain to block his way, and he left the house in great strides, trailing a stream of insults. From the window, Leonor and David saw him cross the grounds at a full run, shouting like a madman, and they saw him go into the stables and come out, riding the roan bareback. At first, Leonor’s temperamental horse tamely followed the direction indicated by the inexperienced fists holding the reins: turning with elegance, changing step and waving the light hair of its tail like a fan, the roan got as far as the edge of the road that led through mountains, through narrow passes and vast sandy expanses, to the city. There it rebelled. Suddenly rearing up and neighing, it spun like a ballerina and swiftly returned to the ground.

“It’s going to throw him,” Leonor said.

“No,” said David at her side. “Look. He’s holding on.”

Many Indians had come out of the stable and in amazement were watching the younger brother, who held himself unbelievably steady on the horse and at the same time ferociously kicked its flanks and pounded its head with one of his fists. Enraged by the blows, the roan went from one side to the other, rearing, jumping; it started dizzying, abrupt runs and suddenly stopped dead, but the rider seemed soldered to its back. Leonor and David saw him appear and disappear as steady as the most seasoned horse tamer, and they were mute, stunned. Suddenly the roan gave up; its graceful head hanging down toward the ground as if ashamed, it stood motionless, breathing heavily. At that moment they thought he was coming back: Juan headed the horse toward the house and stopped in front of the door, but he did not dismount. As if he had remembered something, he turned around and headed at a fast trot directly toward the building called the Shack. There he jumped down. The door was locked and Juan kicked the padlock off. Then he shouted at the Indians who were inside to get out, that the punishment for all of them was over. After that, he came back to the house, walking slowly. David was waiting for him at the door. Juan seemed calm; he was drenched in sweat and his eyes showed his pride. David came up to him and brought him inside, his arm around Juan’s shoulder.

“C’mon,” he said to him. “We’ll have a drink while Leonor fixes up your knees.”