Read Latin American Folktales Online

Authors: John Bierhorst

Tags: #Fiction

Latin American Folktales (26 page)

78. Johnny-boy

A parish priest was making his rounds of the neighborhood when he noticed a little boy running along with his dog, calling out to it, “Come on, Johnny-boy! Come on, Johnny-boy!”

The priest thought, “A dog John? And to call it Johnny? Johnny-boy? Oh, the blessed name of the Evangelist and the Baptist, not to mention twenty-two Roman popes!” But then he thought, “Why blame the child for this sacrilege? It’s the mother and father who are at fault.” He stopped the boy and said, “Do you have parents at home?”

“No, father, I’m an orphan. But there’s Pepa, my big sister. And Mama Señora, my grandmother.”

“Where do they live?”

“Keep on down this street past the slaughterhouse, then take a left and it’s not too far from there. Want me to go with you?”

“Please. I have to talk to your grandmother.”

As they walked side by side, the child kept calling to the dog, “Come on! Come on, Johnny-boy!”

Johnny-boy. Each repetition drove another nail into the heart of the pious father in Christ.

When they finally reached the little doorway, the sister and the grandmother came out to greet the visitor. “Father, what an honor. You’ve blessed us. Who could have thought that we, poor as we are and so far out of the way, would ever see your face at our door or even so much as your picture.”

“Dear daughters,” said the priest, “I love nothing more than to visit my parishioners. And the poor are my favorites. Were they not the favorites of Our Lord? It’s only that my duties keep calling me elsewhere.”

“Thank you, father. Our humble house is yours. To see you fills us with joy.”

“I wish I could say the same,” said the priest, getting down to business. “I’ve come to talk to you about your little boy. I keep hearing him call his dog ‘Johnny.’ You must realize how disrespectful . . .”

The grandmother interrupted him, “Oh, that grandchild of mine! If I’ve told him once I’ve told him a hundred times, the dog’s name isn’t Johnny, it’s John of God.”

Nicaragua

79. The Rarest Thing

There was a king who had three sons and a niece, and as fate would have it—don’t you see?—the three fell in love with the king’s niece, their cousin. “My niece can’t marry all three,” said the king, “and if I give her to one, there’ll be no peace in the family.”

To decide the matter he called his sons and said, “Listen, all three of you! Bring me a rarity I’ve never seen. Whoever can do it will marry my niece.”

“I’ll do it myself,” said each of the sons.

“Be back in three months,” said the king.

They took to the road and were gone in a wink. Well, the first of the three found a pair of spectacles for sale and snapped them up. Anyone who wore these marvelous glasses could see what was happening in distant cities. “In all the land there’s nothing like this,” said the first son to himself.

Then the second of the three found a carpet that flew from one town to the next in only ten minutes. “In all the land there’s nothing like it,” he exclaimed.

Finally, the youngest discovered a powerful apple; whoever waved it in front of the dead could make them wake up. “Hah,” he said, “there’s nothing like this in all the land. I can bring the dead back to life and make money.”

The three got together at the place where they’d agreed to meet and said, “Here we are. Now what do we have?”

“A pair of glasses! Wait till I put them on, and we’ll see what’s happening at the palace. Uh-oh, what’s this? There’s a wake just getting started, and it’s the king’s niece who’s laid out!”

“Good heavens, our cousin dead?”

“If only I were there,” said the one with the apple, “I’d bring her back to life.”

“Quick, jump on my rug,” said his brother.

And in ten minutes they were there. The one with the apple rushed up to the coffin. Apple in hand, he made the sign of the cross over the dead niece’s body. She sat up. Then he turned to the king and said, “Papa, she’s mine. I’ve brought her back to life.”

But his brother said, “What good would the apple have been without the carpet that got us here?”

And the eldest said, “What good is the apple or the carpet, without the glasses that told us we had to come? I should be the one who marries our cousin.”

“Ah, no, no, no!” said the king [
laughter in the audience
]. “The three of you are equal. I can’t give my niece to any of you. Now go! Find brides somewhere else!”

Don’t you see? In their travels in some of those cities they’d noticed women. So the king said, “Go get your brides, and then you’ll be married.”

Guatemala
/
Antonio
Ramírez

80. Prince Simpleheart

A king had three sons. The two older boys were as bright as a father could wish and had gotten through all their schooling. But the youngest was one of God’s innocent creatures and everyone called him Prince Simpleheart.

The bright ones said to the king, “Give us our inheritance, so we can go out into the world.” Simpleheart wondered if he might not go with them. But his brothers teased him, and the queen said, “What could you possibly do, numskull?” The king echoed her, “What could you possibly do? Better stay home.”

The two bright ones set off down the road, each with his inheritance in a moneybag swinging from his belt. The youngest, although he hadn’t been given a nickel, took it into his head to tag along. The two brothers waited for him to catch up, then gave him a licking with a green switch. But it was no use. He wouldn’t turn back. The minute they hit the road again he was right behind them. They stopped and gave him a few more licks and twice again did the same. But he kept on.

When it got dark he could follow along without being noticed. He saw his brothers step into a thicket and thought, “They’re making camp.” He got as close as he dared and lay down under a tree that had three branches.

At midnight he was awakened by voices overhead. Three birds had arrived, one on each branch of the tree. The first said, “I’ve got to start singing! And when I do, I’ll drop my knapsack.”

The second bird inquired, “What’s with the knapsack?”

“It’s the one that fills up with money again whenever you empty it,” replied the first. Then it opened its beak and the knapsack fell to the ground. Simpleheart turned his head to see where it landed.

The second bird said, “Now
I’ve
got to sing! When I do, I’ll drop my little violin.”

“Which violin is that?”

“The one that makes people dance and they can’t stop.” It opened its beak and down came the violin.

The third said, “Listen, girls, I’ve got to sing, too. When I do, this little cloak is going to fall.”

“Cloak?” asked the other two.

“You know! The one that makes you invisible.” It opened its beak and the cloak came fluttering down.

At the crack of dawn Simpleheart jumped up and collected the three objects. When his brothers saw him coming, they threatened to switch him again. But he showed them the marvelous things he had found and they calmed down. One took the knapsack. The other seized the violin, leaving Simpleheart with the cloak. So they traveled on for another day, making camp in the woods that night. As soon as Simpleheart was asleep, the two brothers sneaked off.

In the morning, seeing that his brothers had gone on, Simpleheart thought, “Why stick to the road? With the cloak to make me invisible, I’ll be safe from the wild beasts and can take a shortcut through the forest.” He struck off down a narrow path.

In a while he came to a tree loaded with sweet-smelling fruits. He filled his hat and his pockets, sat down on a log, and ate a few. Suddenly his head was heavy. He felt with his hand, and what was this? He’d grown horns like a stag.

“If my father could see me now, he’d never let me back in the palace. Oh well, the better to ward off those wild beasts.” He threw away the rest of the fruits and went on. At a little brook he slipped and fell into a pool. Fortunately it wasn’t deep. When he pulled himself out, behold! The horns were gone.

“Now I know what the cure is,” he thought. He ran back and gathered up the fruits he’d left behind and continued on till he came to a city. Simple as he was, he nevertheless knew he had reached the capital of a great kingdom. He headed for the palace, thinking the king might buy some fruit. The princess was out on her balcony. “Your Highness,” he called. “Fresh fruit for sale.”

“Papa, there’s a salesman here.” The king came out, took a whiff of the sweet-smelling fruit, and bought the lot.

The next day word spread through the city that Their Majesties and all their servants had grown horns. People ran to the palace to get a look, but no one was allowed to come near. Simpleheart threw on his cloak and, being invisible, stole into the royal chambers. He got as far as the queen and the princess, and there they were with antlers on their heads, weeping bitter tears.

Knowing that his brothers must have come into the city by now, he left the palace to look them up. When he found them in their lodgings, they said to him, “Why don’t you stay with us?” So he took advantage of their sudden generosity and asked to borrow the violin. Wrapped in the cloak and with the violin in hand, he stood at the palace gate and started scraping the bow on the strings. It made such a lively tune Their Majesties forgot they were wearing antlers and began tapping their feet.

They strutted out onto the balconies. People rushed to catch a glimpse and crowded so tightly into the plaza they had no room to dance themselves. The music picked up speed. At the sight of the royal family and all the servants with their antlers, whirling and prancing, the crowd let out with a roar.

The king shouted, “Stop, for a purse full of money!” But Simpleheart shouted back, “I want to marry the princess!” Desperate, the king said, “Very well.” And Simpleheart put away the violin.

The next day he marched into the palace and announced he was the future husband of the princess. The king remembered his promise and allowed him to be brought forward. The king, the queen, and the princess stood behind a curtain to conceal their embarrassing antlers. But the king peeked out and recognized the fruit vendor from two days before. In a fury he ran around the end of the curtain, took Simpleheart by the ears, and threw him into a courtyard. “Lock him up and hang him at dawn!”

“At last,” thought Simpleheart, “God has given up on me.” But he thought again as he stared at the iron bars on the windows of his prison cell. They were in the form of crosses! “Why lose hope? I swear by these crosses that the princess will be my bride.”

And it was lucky he still had the cloak folded up in his pocket. He called to the warden, “Think of it, my good man. Today it’s me, tomorrow it could be you. Have pity and give me a breath of air. I’m suffocating. Open the door a crack.” The jailer obliged, and Simpleheart, invisible in his cloak, slipped away.

He ran to his brothers’ lodgings and said, “Let me have that knapsack a minute.” He emptied it a few times and scooped up the money. Then he was off to the shops, where he bought himself a doctor’s outfit. He rented a furnished room and hung out a sign:

MEDICAL DOCTOR
SPECIALIZING IN ANTLERITIS
AND OTHER INFIRMITIES OF THE HEAD

Word of a new doctor in town reached the king, and Simpleheart was rushed to the palace. The king stated his terms, “My daughter’s hand in marriage if you can remove these horns.” The doctor replied, “I can. But I must warn you, the medicine hurts.”

“No matter,” said the king.

“Then get to work,” ordered the doctor. “Have a tank built, five meters on each side and four meters deep, and fill it with water. I’ll be back in three days.” The doctor withdrew, bowing low and sweeping his arms.

When he returned, he inspected the tank and dribbled oils and perfumes. At each corner he set up a ram’s-horn incense burner. “Now tell the king to come out in a bath towel.”

The king appeared. “Down on your knees! I hate to do it, but this tapir-hair switch is the only thing that gets the blood moving. Ten years of research have proved it.” The king kneeled, and the lashes came raining down on his back. Then the doctor threw him into the water and held him under until he nearly drowned. When he let him up, the horns were gone.

It was the queen’s turn, but she only needed a half dozen lashes. And the princess needed no more than a touch with a silk handkerchief. Finally the servants were doctored, with or without the tapir switch, according to each case.

When the cures were complete, they honored the doctor at a banquet and a ball. A few days later he was married to the princess, and the king even gave him the crown of the realm. So that’s how Prince Simpleheart became king of a powerful nation. And because his heart was good he called his two brothers to the palace and made them high-ranking ministers.

Costa
Rica

81. The Flower of Lily-Lo

A man and his wife had three sons. Their favorite was the youngest, and the whole town was in love with him, too. His older brothers, however, were jealous.

One day the mother fell sick, and doctors couldn’t help her. No one knew what to do until a witch told them to look in the forest for a certain herb called the Flower of Lily-Lo. Nothing else would cure the mother’s illness.

The father sent all three sons to find the flower. But when they got to the woods, the two older boys hid behind trees, and the youngest, thinking he was lost, began to cry, running this way and that way. Wandering in no particular direction, he came upon the flowers, picked a few, and started for home.

On the way he ran into his two brothers. When they saw that he had found the flowers, they fell into a fury and beat him. They dragged him to a hole, threw him in, and covered him up with rocks.

The two boys then brought the flowers to their father, and the father took them and made a potion. When he gave it to the mother, she was cured instantly. Noticing that the smallest boy had not returned, the father began wondering what had happened. The brothers said he must have lost his way.

The parents sent a search party to look for their son. But when two or three weeks had gone by and still he had not been found, they gave him up for dead. He must have been eaten by wild animals, they thought.

Now, in the meantime there was a boy who went out walking in the woods, and on his way back to town he came upon a curious tree covered with flowers. He picked one and blew on it, and the flower made a little song that said,

Oh, little boy, don’t blow on me;
Don’t blow again, no, no.
My brothers they have killed me
For the Flower of Lily-Lo.

The boy was startled, but when he blew again, and the flower repeated its little song, he began to think. He decided to fill his pockets with flowers and sell them in town.

Fate willed it that the boy should come stand outside the house where the parents of the lost child lived. The boy began to blow on the flowers, offering them for sale. Out of curiosity, people crowded around. The parents of the lost child recognized the voice of their son and came out into the street to see what was happening. They called the boy over and asked him for a flower. As the father blew on it, it sang,

Oh, father dear, don’t blow on me;
Don’t blow again, no, no.
My brothers they have killed me
For the Flower of Lily-Lo.

The father hardly knew what to think. He handed the flower to his wife, and she blew on it. Then she heard the flower say,

Oh, mother dear, don’t blow on me;
Don’t blow again, no, no.
My brothers they have killed me
For the Flower of Lily-Lo.

The parents called the brothers and made them blow on the flower. It said,

Oh, brothers mine, don’t blow on me;
Don’t blow again, no, no.
My brothers, you have killed me
For the Flower of Lily-Lo.

Hearing this, the mother and father threw chili peppers into the fireplace and locked the two brothers in the house, where they choked to death. Then they asked the little boy to take them to the flower tree. People from town followed behind. When they got to the place where the tree grew, they started pulling away the rocks. There was their little son asleep under the tree trunk. They took him into their arms, he woke up at once, and everyone cheered.

Ruddy ruddy red, my story is said, and yours is still to tell.

Mexico
/ Jorge
Carlos
González
Avila

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