Maria's Trail (The Mule Tamer)
Read Maria's Trail (The Mule Tamer) Online
Authors: John Horst
Maria’s Trail
The First Adventures of Señora Chica Walsh,
Hero of The Mule Tamer Trilogy
John C. Horst
Maria’s Trail
Copyright ©2012 by John Horst
ISBN-13: 978-1479329397
(CreateSpace-Assigned)
ISBN-10: 1479329398
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may
be used, reproduced,
stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any
form or by any
means without the written permission of the author.
Cover art by Kevin Moore
Editing, Composition, and Typography by
www.ProEditingService.com
Special Note: This edition of Maria’s Trail is
designed to provide entertainment for the reader. It is a work of fiction. All
the characters, organizations and events portrayed in this novel are either
products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
Our views and rights are the same: You are responsible
for your own choices, actions, and results.
For
Jimmie D. Flanagan
Be kind,
for everyone you meet is fighting a hard battle
Contents
Chapter VIII: The
Virgin of Guadalupe
.
77
Chapter X: The Fence’s
Pretty Assistant
.
92
Chapter XII: Colonel
Charles Gibbs, Esq.
108
Chapter XIII:
Alejandro del Toro
..
115
Chapter XIV:
Deutsch-Mexikanisch
..
119
Chapter XVII: The Mule
Tamer
.
170
The child watched the curandera work on the old
woman. The hovel was dark and hazy with smoke from the old healer’s cure. She
leaned close to her patient as she spread the mixture of ointment and dirt and
saliva onto the woman’s chest. In a little while the invalid would be resting
again and the girl was hopeful as she watched the witchdoctor gather up her
belongings. She followed her out into the little yard.
The curandera was even more frightening in the
daylight and she stank of her treatments. Her breath was bad. It reeked of the
various things she smoked and blew onto her patients. The little girl looked at
the medicine woman scratching her backside as she pointed to the remaining
chickens. The girl complied. She didn’t need to be told, she knew that the
payment would be dear. The sick woman had no earthly possessions, money,
jewelry or any goods of consequence. The little girl didn’t know what they’d do
without chickens as now there’d be no eggs.
“She is beyond my help.” The curandera eyed the
chickens doubtfully. The little girl wondered why, then, she was being paid.
The curandera looked at the child and wagged her head slowly from side to side.
“There is another, in the next village, who will help her but it will cost more
than chickens.”
“How much?”
The healer tipped her head toward the hovel.
“More than she has in the world.”
“How much?” The child was precocious and the
healer gave her a weak smile.
“Let her die, child. Let her die.”
“How much?”
“Ten centavos.”
The little girl kept her face stone-like. She
calculated in her head. She’d never heard of such a sum.
She thought hard and replied without thinking.
“Will you fetch her here? I will get the money.”
The curandera became severe. “I will, but if
the payment is not made, it will not go well for you or anyone who lives here.
You understand, child? You understand that if the debt is not paid, it will not
go well for anyone here?”
“I understand.”
The other one would be here in three days, she
promised, as she tied the chickens together by the legs. Now, added to the
curandera’s odor was the stench of chicken manure. She was gone.
The little girl prepared the last of the eggs
while the old woman slept covered in the strange thick paste. She’d begun
stinking from being ill and the treatment made her nearly unbearable. The child
was diligent in keeping her clean but now this seemed impossible. The curandera
gave no instructions on how long the unguent must stay. Would it dry and peel
off, would it continue to stink? The little girl did not know.
The old woman stirred momentarily, but drifted
off again and the little girl began taking an inventory. She dug up the
treasure the old woman kept hidden. She had her dowry necklace. The little girl
put it on. The old woman used to pull it out every so often and put it on the
child and now she looked down at it, hanging low. It was big and the child was
very small. It was supposed to be hers one day. It was made from old coins and
they’d be worth something.
She dug some more. There was a gilt mirror and
hairbrush. The bristles were mostly gone and the gold had mostly worn away,
only a metal color showed through on the high spots and sides. But it was
beautiful and one could still see a reflection in the glass. It must be worth
something as well.
Then there was the old woman’s work. She’d made
some good baskets before she’d gotten so ill and they must be worth something.
She thought about the amount she needed. There
were the two goats. They’d make it all up but then they’d have nothing. The
chickens were gone and if the goats were gone there’d be nothing left. She
thought about this. If she didn’t get rid of everything, the old woman would
surely die. But if she did get rid of everything, the old woman would perhaps
live but they’d have nothing to live on. It was a significant problem.
“What are you doing, child?”
The little girl looked up. The old woman was
awake. She took the string of coins from around her neck and moved over next to
the old woman. She gave her a drink.
“Wash this from my body, hija.”
“But it is the cure.”
“Bah. Take it off. It stinks of shit.”
The little girl complied and the old woman did
not stink so. Her breath was still horrible, not like the curandera’s, as the
old woman did not smoke, but of some kind of dreadful odor that the little girl
did not know. It was the smell of impending death and there was no way to take
it away.
“But you will perhaps die.”
“When?”
She laughed a little at her own joke until she
saw the effect it had on the girl. She reached up and touched her gently on the
face. “What are you doing with these things?”
“The curandera cannot heal you but she can
bring in another. They need payment to heal you.”
“Hah.” She thought of how to break the news to
the girl. She was already weakening from the little bit of talking she’d done.
She breathed deeply and her chest rattled. She coughed and spit into a rag.
“You keep them safe, child. Keep them safe.” She looked at the mirror and brush
and asked the child to bring them to her bed.
The old woman looked them over as if she were
trying to remember them. She held up the mirror and looked into it. She then
looked at the child. “See this, hija, see what is in there?”
“Me.”
“You remember this, child. There is no one else
in the world. No one else will take care of you in the world. Only this one.”
She pointed at the little girl’s reflection. “Never forget that, child.” She
pointed again. “This is the only one who you can rely on and trust. You
remember that, child.”
She fell back and rested her hands by her
sides. The little girl took the mirror and brush; she covered up the old woman
and hid the treasures. Gathering the water jars, she walked outside.
It was getting late and a few people in the
little settlement milled about. The mean man was there and he saw her. He
sauntered up to her and looked her over dismissively.
“Is she dead yet?”
The little girl didn’t want to answer, but he
was important in the little settlement and she wanted no trouble.
Before she could speak the important man’s wife
interjected. “Don’t talk like that to the child.”
“Whore’s spawn.”
“Stop it.” The mean man’s wife was not so mean
and the little girl could not understand why she was with him. The mean man’s
wife walked up to the girl and regarded her. She brushed back her long black
hair and put her hand to her cheek. “How is your old mother?”
“She’s not her mother. She’s an old woman.” The
man spit tobacco juice as he spoke. “She’s the whore’s spawn,” he pointed,
accusingly and self-righteously at the child.
The wife took the girl away from the mean man
and they walked a little way to the well. The girl worked and the woman watched
her. “What did the healer say?”
“To let her die.” The little girl filled the
jars. “But I told her to get another healer. She’s coming in three days.”
“I see.” The wife sat down and looked at the
child. She was smart this one. She’d survive, but it was sad to see that she’d
have nothing when they’d finished. The old woman would be dead in a week,
probably, and then the girl would have nothing and the woman’s husband would
not let her live in the hovel alone. The child interrupted her thoughts.
“Where can I sell some things?”
“What things?”
“Just some things. I need the money for the
second healer.”
“Nuevo Casas Grandes would be best. There is a
man there. He has a store. He would buy some things I guess.”
The little girl turned and slowly walked away.
She was thinking of all the things she needed to do. She was soon back at the
shack. She’d never been to Nuevo Casas Grandes but knew it would take a whole
day to get there and a whole day to get back.
She thought about the old woman being alone for
two days. The mean man’s wife would not help her. She couldn’t help her as the
mean man would not allow it. She decided she could make up food for the old
woman and leave it nearby, within easy reach. That would not be a problem.
She’d likely soil herself though. She’d have to lie in her waste for two days.
She looked outside and reasoned that it was too
late to do anything now. If she worked late into the evening, she’d have
everything prepared and could leave before sunrise in the morning. She’d be
back in time for the healer and have the payment. It would be enough, it had to
be enough.
She worked and the old woman slept.
Nuevo Casas Grandes was overwhelming. She’d
never seen so many people and she soon realized that she was not dressed
anything like them. She wore, literally, rags and was barefoot. She knew well
enough that she’d not be taken very seriously in her present state.
She spotted a stable. She washed in the trough
and braided her hair. She adjusted her rebozo to cover the top part of her
dress and carefully cut away the ragged part of the skirt. She could do nothing
about her feet but wash them the best she could. She pulled out the mirror and
looked herself over. She didn’t look so bad now. At least she was clean.
She surveyed her treasures. The goats traveled
well enough and she could not believe that all of it would not be enough for
the amount needed. She decided to hide the necklace and looked around.
There was a spot at a corner of a building with
loose rocks and earth. She looked to see if anyone was watching her and saw no
one. She dug a little hole and hid the necklace there. If worse came to worst,
she could always try and sell it to make up any shortfall.
She was ready now but a bit shaky. She wasn’t
hungry, but the thought of going into the grand and fancy store and talking to
a stranger, selling her pathetic goods, made her shake. She resolved to eat a
little and drink from the trough. That helped the shaking to stop. She looked
at her reflection in the water and thought about what the old woman had said.
She took a deep breath and let it out. She was ready now.
She tied the goats to the post outside and
entered the store. It immediately made her shaky and dizzy again. It was more
than she could take in; the odor of the fresh straw from new brooms mixed with
finely dyed fabric, new leather and chemicals, coffee and candy and so many
odors she’d never known. She looked around at dresses and fabric for rebozos
and fancy hats. It was the most beautiful place she’d ever seen.
A man was behind the counter. He looked at her
and smiled. She did not expect that. She expected someone like the mean man and
he wasn’t anything like the mean man. She suddenly felt a little fluttery in
her stomach. The man seemed to be good and kind.
“Well, young lady.” He looked behind her and
all around for an adult and realized she was all alone. This made him even
friendlier. “How may I help you?”
She looked at him and hesitated, she couldn’t
seem to find her voice. He looked like a nice man. He had a big smile and good
teeth. They weren’t stained or black or missing anywhere. He wore a white high
collar around his neck made from a material she’d never seen before and a
colorful cravat protruded from the collar. He wore a vest that matched his
trousers and his sleeves were clean, everything was clean. He looked through
little oval glasses and he had no hair on his face at all. His face seemed as
smooth as a lady’s. She was very impressed with all of this.
“I have things to sell and was told to see
you.”
“I see.” He beckoned her to the back of the
store, to his desk where she could sit down and not have to reach up high to
the counter. This made her fluttery again; she knew this part of the store was
not for customers. He was a very nice man.
She sat and pulled the items carefully from a
sack. She then laid the sack down, as it too was for sale. She’d have no use
for a sack if he would buy the other things.
He looked them over carefully.
“And two goats.” She turned her head, then
pointed at the front of his store.
“I see.” He picked up the useless items and
turned them over in his hands, as if he were regarding some great heirlooms. He
did not look up from them but asked her, talking toward the items as if they’d
give him the answer to his questions, “Why do you need to sell such things,
child?”
He finally looked up, looked into her eyes with
a tenderness she’d never known.
“The old woman, eh, the woman who cares for
me.” That sounded silly because she’d been caring for the old woman for more
than a year now. “She’s sick and I need money for the curanderas.”
“I see. And your mother or father, cannot they
do this? Cannot someone else help you in this?”
She answered automatically. “There is no one
else.”
“I see.” The man became animated. He was
excited and suddenly sat back in his chair. “Well, let’s see,” he stroked his
chin and regarded the items. “I have no use for goats, so I can give you
nothing for them. He picked up the brush and mirror. “The bristles are gone and
the finish is gone. The mirror needs to be re-silvered. So, I am sorry, but no,
they have no value.”
He watched her face fall. She was about to tell
him about the necklace when he continued. “How much do they need?”
Te…twenty centavos.” She didn’t know why she
lied to the nice man, but thought it would be better to start high. He laughed
as he could see her little lie, and then grinned a fatherly grin at her.
“Twenty centavos! A king’s ransom!” He stood up
and held out his hand. “Little girl,” he stopped himself and walked away. She
watched him as he retrieved a box and opened it. She could see great piles of
paper money and coins. He laid out ten centavos before her. He went back to the
box and gathered more coins. He placed another pile of coins next to the first
one. She could not understand why. He smiled and continued.