Read Echoes of a Distant Summer Online
Authors: Guy Johnson
Laughter exploded around the table at Hernando’s punch line. Jackson stood up and left the dining room. He needed some air and he wanted to give his behind some relief from the sitting.
He walked around to the back of the lodge where he had sat with Maria the night before. The stars were just beginning to shine in the
darkening sky. There was still a line of gold edged with purple along the tops of the western mountains as the sunset moved through its final cycle of colors. All around him Jackson heard crickets chirping out the temperature with their mating calls. He turned and discovered that Maria was standing behind him.
Her face seemed to gather the last stray beams of sunlight and glow in the growing twilight. Her heavy-lidded, glistening eyes reflected the endless depths of the night sky.
Jackson was speechless. She was the most beautiful woman he had ever made love to. He realized that all of his previous sexual encounters had been with girls. Maria was his first real woman, with a woman’s appetite and understanding. His legs without his conscious will moved toward her. He took her in his arms and kissed her. She responded without restraint and soon her breast was exposed for his lips. They kissed and touched until Jackson pushed her away and said, “I’ll see you after my shift. It’ll be the longest four hours I’ve ever spent.”
Maria brushed his lips with her own and gave him a big smile. “Think of the pleasure we will have later. Now, we both must work.
Hasta luego, hombre mío.”
She straightened her dress, grabbed his arm, and walked with him along the darkened porch toward the side door that led into the pantry and kitchen.
Later that night after Jackson and Maria had finished their first session of lovemaking, Jackson lay propped up on his elbow, looking out the window at the pale, beige sliver of a new moon crossing over the vibrant nightscape of the Milky Way. Maria lay behind him on the bed. He could hear the soft, even breathing of her slumber. He couldn’t sleep. His feelings would not allow his mind to be dormant. He fervently wanted to experience the same level of companionship and sensual pleasure that he had with Maria every day of his future life. He didn’t know if it was love or not, but he had never wanted a woman more. He wondered whether they should talk about marriage. Then Carlos’s words came back to haunt him: “She is no fool. She does things for reasons.” Those words made Jackson wonder whether he was being played like an instrument. She herself had said that he was unspoiled, almost innocent. Did that mean too dumb to see the larger game? He knew Carlos, who only had his best interests in mind, had warned him for some reason.
Maria stirred behind him and nestled the warmth of her body next to
him, sliding her hand under his arm and across his chest. She kissed the back of his neck. “What are you thinking about?” she asked in a soft voice.
“I’m wondering whether I am being foolish to care so much for you. I mean, I don’t really know who you are and I think I’m falling in love with you. It seems so stupid. I’ve only known you a few days.”
“Don’t worry,” she said, kissing his neck. “Your heart is safe with me.” Jackson grunted in acknowledgment but said nothing. There was a long silence then Maria said, “There is something bothering you. What is it?”
“Carlos said that you ‘did things for a reason.’ I’m wondering if there was some premeditation on your part.”
“Premeditation? I don’t know that word.”
“It means calculated. Planned. Like did you plan our relationship before you ever met me?”
“Yes! I told you I did! I have thought about it for more than a year!”
Jackson turned around on the bed to face her. It seemed strange to him that in the darkness of a room lit only by the light of the stars and a pale moon, her eyes could still glisten. “Why? You hadn’t even met me. How could you know that you would make love to me?” he asked, his questions driven by self-doubt.
Maria answered as if she was stating common knowledge. “You are El Negro’s heir, his grandson. If I am with you, I don’t have to bed with or tolerate approaches from the other men. Plus, if I treat you well and you like me, El Negro will have greater cause to treat me well. He is a powerful friend to have.”
“Then you are just using me.” Strains of anger and disappointment began to creep into his words. “This was only a practical decision; it had nothing to do with whether you liked me or not! I see now. I guess I didn’t know how innocent I truly was!”
“You are disturbed? Why?”
“Damn straight I’m disturbed! Your decision to have sex with me was a business decision, it had nothing to do with me! And I thought you liked me!
Me
, Jackson Tremain!”
“You see nothing! Your anger is in the way! I do like you! I like you very much, more than I thought possible. I have tried not to lie to you. I don’t want to hurt your feelings, but the truth is not always kind. It is true that I made the decision to make love with you before I ever met
you. But when I actually met you, you gave me many reasons to be with you. I feel good with you. I can speak my heart and you will listen. I wanted to enjoy myself with you and I do. I don’t have to pretend that you give me pleasure.”
She put her hand on his face and caressed his cheek tenderly then continued, “You don’t understand, but for a poor woman life is very hard in this country. This is a man’s land and if a woman is considered attractive she may be taken young unless she has family to protect her. That type of life can squeeze blood from the body. After a time it is like an artery is cut and your spirit drains away! A woman who is not yet thirty can look sixty years old if she does not make smart business decisions.
“I have survived by making decisions with my head that I could not afford to let my heart make. You have felt the ridges on the skin of my back?” She waited for Jackson to respond. His dark silhouette nodded in response to her question. She continued, “They are the scars from being whipped with a riding crop! I was whipped until the blood ran! I was not always obedient, but I could not afford to be stupid! I do not wish you to marry me or even take me back to the United States with you. All I wanted was to avoid being passed around and to have favor in El Negro’s eyes. Now, I have more than I ever expected to have. We are friends and lovers, no?”
“I guess,” Jackson answered, the darkness hiding the confusion on his face.
“I want to give you pleasure and be with you as long as you want to be with me. Is this wrong?”
Her large, dark eyes stared at him with a trace of fear. He suddenly realized that she was afraid of displeasing him. He shrugged and shook his head. “I don’t know. Who’s to say what is right and what is wrong? But your story is very chilling.”
She asked in a soft voice, “Do you still want me?”
Her question totally disarmed him. It gave him a sense of her vulnerability and it made him feel ashamed that he had challenged her motives. It made him want to protect her. He reached out and put his arms around her and pulled her close until their bodies were touching. “Yes, more than ever,” he murmured into her ear. She pressed herself against him and he grew hard in the grip of her hand.
Jackson’s grandfather arrived midafternoon on Tuesday and he greeted his grandson with a hug and a handshake, but Jackson saw appraising
eyes behind the actions and felt immediate resentment: He didn’t realize that he was doomed to live by his grandfather’s standards until he developed his own. The sight of El Indio, who had come with his grandfather, washed away any ill feelings he had. Jackson hadn’t seen the old Indian since he was fifteen. A flood of warmth flushed through him. He rushed over and gave El Indio a hug, which was returned.
El Indio pushed Jackson away and held him at arm’s length. He nodded his head as he looked him up and down. “Much time has passed.”
Jackson nodded, noticing the gray hair that sprinkled El Indio’s once jet-black mane and the sun-weathered and wrinkled face. Only the black, flat-brimmed hat with the white, black-tipped feather stuck in its band and the glitter of the dark eyes remained the same.
El Indio smiled and said, “Diablito returns to us as a man! Soon, we will have to find another name for him! A man’s name!”
El Indio’s announcement pleased Jackson. Although he never gave it credence consciously, his grandfather and the men around him were extremely important to him. He would rather risk death than appear weak or foolish in their eyes.
After dinner a map was laid on the table and the hunt was planned. Once again Jackson begged off horseback assignments, explaining that his behind was still sore from the previous day’s six hours in the saddle. Amid laughter and a few coarse jokes, he was assigned to drive the jeep and carry supplies. Only Culio, Carlos, El Indio, and Hernando were going to join Jackson and his grandfather on the hunt. Tomas would head the three-man team assigned to stay behind and guard the lodge. The departure time for the hunt was six in the morning.
After his shift of sentry duty, Jackson lay in bed with Maria basking in the warm afterglow of passionate lovemaking. He knew he should be trying to rest, but sleep was far away. He was thinking about returning to the United States. The prospect filled him with dismay. He didn’t want what he had with Maria to stop. He had begun to think about asking her to leave Mexico and return with him. Doubt assailed him and his uneasiness increased as he considered the possibility of asking her. He knew that she was awake as well, for she was caressing his back slowly.
“You should sleep,” she urged softly. “Tomorrow will take all your strength.”
He turned to her and stared at her dark outline against the white
sheets. In the room’s darkness, he couldn’t see the expression on her face, but he could feel the warmth of her body. “What if I told you I didn’t want this to stop, that I want to be with you?”
“I would love it,” she answered with a sigh.
“I don’t want it to stop,” Jackson declared.
“Neither do I,” she whispered.
“Would you come to America with me?”
“I would go anywhere with you! To go to America would be like a dream come true, a fairy tale come to life!”
“We’ve got to figure out how we’ll do it!”
“You just ask your grandfather! He will do anything that you ask. He complains often that you never ask him for anything. He says that he gives more to other people than he does to you.”
“Maybe it’s easier for them to ask than it is for me.”
“If you truly want to take me with you, I promise that I will do everything to please you! You will never regret this decision!”
“Well, I’ve got to find a way to tell my grandfather,” Jackson said with obvious trepidation.
“Perhaps it’s time for you to rest and leave that for later,” Maria suggested. “Hunting the
javelina
is dangerous work. It requires alertness and attention. I’ll worry about you if you don’t get enough rest. Let me hold you.” Jackson lay down and entwined himself with Maria and tried to let the silence and darkness bring sleep, but it did not come. The first light of morning found him still awake.
Jackson and the five horsemen started out before the sun rose on Wednesday morning and arrived at nine o’clock at the top ravine leading to the box canyon where the peccaries sheltered during the night. The animals had already left the canyon to forage for tubers in an arroyo where a small creek still ran.
Jackson’s grandfather rode his horse alongside the jeep into the valley at the mouth of the canyon. His grandfather explained the strategy behind the hunt and what Jackson would be expected to do. At the end of his explanation, he gave Jackson a long look and said, “I see you with Maria. She ain’t what I’d call a good girl, but she’s got a good heart. She a hard worker and a straight shooter. And she got gumption too! You could do a whole lot worse. If’en you treat her right, you can’t have a better friend.”
Jackson didn’t say anything. He couldn’t. His lips couldn’t form the
request to ask to take Maria back to the States with him, and those were the only words he wanted to say. It was fear of the look that would cross his grandfather’s face that kept him from asking. He decided it wasn’t the right time. After the hunt would be better.
Jackson assisted Carlos in building a barricade across an intersecting ravine. They didn’t want the pigs to avoid the trap and circle around behind the waiting hunters. They stretched red dyed canvas across the ravine and collected dried branches and small boulders to heap behind it. The barricade would not stand an assault, but they thought the appearance of a new obstacle would frighten the pigs and keep them on their regular route to the box canyon. Jackson was positioned in the jeep above the barricade so that he could warn the hunters of any breach. He didn’t much care for his location because he was at the top of a steep ravine with no easy way down unless he reversed and went back a half mile. If the pigs climbed up to him, he had no ready escape. The low sides of the jeep would present no challenge for the enraged pigs.
Jackson checked and rechecked his guns, ensuring that they were in full working order. He had the short, double-barrel shotgun in a holster across his chest and his 30.06 Winchester in the seat next to him. He settled down to wait as he had been taught. He positioned himself so that he had a view of the direction in which the pigs would come and pulled his straw hat down over his forehead. The essence of hunting was absolute stillness. Only the eyes were allowed to move. Soon his thoughts were drifting toward Maria and her luscious body.
The sky to the west had grown dark above the mountains and there were flashes of lightning among the dark gray clouds. Distant rumblings foretold thunder. It looked like a rare summer rainstorm was moving in their direction. Jackson had experienced a few of these summer thundershowers and knew them to be extremely dangerous because of the tremendous forces that could be unleashed. A summer shower might only last an hour, but the amount of water which fell upon the cracked and thirsty earth was staggering. It could rain so hard that one could not see farther than thirty feet in any direction. The lightning would branch across the sky like the crooked finger of God and smite the earth with the thud of a giant fist.