Okay, Alaric, here it is ... still playing with it ... will likely
change still ... uh, let me think of something to preface it ... how are
you ... hmmm, seen Barry lately (don't answer that -- it's scary) ...
gosh, I'm a self-centered, writing just for me ... oh well, such is life
.... maybe someone else will enjoy it, too.
"Sierra Madre"
by Wind River
The Sierra Madre dwarfed the small ranch. Even the kerosene lamps
offered little competition to the orange glow outlining the mountain
peaks. Their rugged beauty awed Mariana as she watched them blend into
the night sky. As the remaining sunlight faded, the mountains could only
be traced by searching for the areas where there were no stars.
Mariana Vargas was only partly listening to her father and Antonio
discuss politics. Antonio was the son of a powerful banker and had lofty
political ambitions. In his constant attentions to gain the sup****t of
the ranchers, he had even taken to calling her father "Manuel" instead
of "Señor Vargas".
As darkness cloaked the land, she heard a dog trotting toward the patio.
She reached down and wiggled her fingers. A white dog with black spots
ran forward and began licking her fingers and rubbing his head against
her long dress. Unnoticed by the others, she removed a small slip of
paper from within the braided twine of its rope collar and slipped it
under the lace of her sleeve.
"That dog's certainly been around a lot," her father commented.
She rubbed its head. "I like him."
"Who does it belong to?" he asked.
"Looks like one of those Apache dogs," Antonio said. He leaned forward
and shooed it away.
"Don't! You're scaring it," Mariana yelled.
"It's just an old, half-starved Indian dog."
"You don't know that." She picked up the animal and cradled it in her
arms. The dog nuzzled her face as she carried it into the house.
After setting a bowl of scraps in front of the dog, she removed the slip
of paper hidden in her sleeve. Instead of the usual flowing script, the
writing on the paper was uneven and jerky.
She studied the writing and read the words, "I can't come tonight."
Something was wrong.
Her hand trembled as she turned the note over and wrote, "Are you okay?
What's going on?" When the dog finished eating, she reattached the
collar and took him outside. She rubbed his head and whispered,
"Perrito, take this to Kohana."
As Perrito galloped away, Antonio sneered, "See? That dog's just like an
Indian. Takes and gives nothing in return."
"I've heard enough!" She glared at him. "You're acting like you used to
as a child, trying to be superior by putting others down."
"Mariana, I didn't mean it that way."
"No? Then why don't you make peace with the Indians instead of killing
them?"
"The only trustworthy Indian is a dead Indian. You've seen how Chochise
and his followers are trying to drive us out."
"Don't you think they have good reason? Just look what was done to the
Rodriguez family."
Antonio's jaw twitched and his face grew red. "Is this about Kohana? Why
do you still insist on defending him? You don't live in town, Mariana,
so you didn't see how he and his Apache mother reverted to their
barbaric ways after his father died."
"That's not true, and you know it."
"It's doesn't matter anyway. Kohana was killed this morning. I shot him
myself."
"I don't believe you! I'm going to my room." She lifted her dress to
keep from tripping and ran into the house.
As she was leaving, she heard her father reassuring Antonio that it was
difficult for a young woman to live way out here, but that she would be
in a better mood in the morning. Her father's words angered her even
more. Where she lived had nothing to do with her current mood. Mariana
loved living near the mountains. She had never been bothered by Indians
as she trotted her horse along the streams or picked berries, but
Antonio was another matter. He did bother her.
With his recent promotion within the Chihuahua State government, his
department had put a bounty on all Indians, including children. He
boasted over the large number of scalps that had been harvested and used
it as a way to boost his political agenda. He had convinced her father
and the other ranchers that the recent cattle rustling was the work of
the Indians, and if he won the election in the fall, that he'd put a
stop to it. He was doing everything he could to win the sup****t of the
landowners.
Once in her room, Mariana removed a ring from under her pillow. It was
made from a braided lock of black hair. She slipped it onto her finger
and leaned against her pillow. She doubted that Antonio had killed
Kohana, or he would have brought back a scalp to prove it, but the note
that Perrito had brought was out of character. That was worrisome. There
was nothing she could do, however, until she heard back from Kohana, so
she focused on good memories, like the joy she and Kohana shared as a
children and like the bittersweetness when he kissed her and said,
"We'll be together someday. I promise." She fell asleep, thinking of his
touch and his promise.
#
Kohana Julián Rodriguez tossed a stick onto the dying fire. The coals
brightened and flames engulfed it, casting shadows on the walls of the
wickiup and on his bandaged arm.
His mother sat up, clutching a blanket around herself. "Kohana, you've
been up most of the night staring into that fire."
"I thought you were asleep."
"I can't sleep. I'm worried about you."
"I'll be fine."
"Not until you bring her here, you won't."
"We'll be moving higher and deeper into the mountains soon. I'll forget
about her with more distance."
"You'll never forget her. You've been in love with her since you were
children."
Kohana thought back to the days when he would accompany his father to
the Vargas ranch where he'd spend most of his idle time with Mariana.
Tomás Rodriguez, was the only doctor serving the rural areas, and he
always took his son on visits. Because of the great distances between
ranches, they would often stay with the families while treating the sick
or injured. As Kohana grew older, he became an assistant to his father
and began to learn traditional medicine from his Mexican father and
herbal medicine from his Apache mother.
He and his father were both respected. That changed, however, when
Kohana was sixteen, and his father died. It was also the year the
Chiricahua Apache chief, Cochise, was accused of kidnapping a child.
Although the abduction took place eighty miles from where Cochise was
camped, an American lieutenant claimed he was guilty and held Cochise's
family hostage, finally killing his brother and two nephews. The fallout
from the murders didn't just affect America, but rippled all through
Mexico as well. Cochise, along with other warriors, became determined to
run the Mexicans and Americans from Apache land.
With all the Indian troubles, some seemed to forget that Kohana had been
an assistant to his father and had helped heal their families. They
accused him and his mother of spying; although, her family was from a
different band. On the night their home was set on fire, they escaped
and fled to live with his mother's relatives. Over the next three years,
Kohana learned the Apache way of life. Their small band moved frequently
among the rugged mountains to escape detection, but Kohana returned
whenever he could to see Mariana.
It was difficult not to think of his promise to her which had been made
when he thought he might one day return to a life like he'd had with his
father. Now, he no longer wanted that life. Although Chihuahua needed
doctors, and faithful friends asked him to return, he preferred his
current life as a healer among his tribe, but it wasn't the life
Marianna was used to.
He tossed another stick onto the fire. "I don't know what to do."
"Yes, you do." She lightly touched his bandage. "If you had brought
Mariana here a month ago, you wouldn't be risking your life going
through Mexican land to see her. You're lucky you weren't killed."
#
Mariana dressed and walked out back. Wildflowers tickled her ankles as
they swayed among the gr*****. The usually dry riverbed flowed with
water. She glanced at the snow lingering in the mountain crevices and
envisioned the snowmelt trickling into streams and twisting its way
through gorges and into the valley. She longed to follow the river back
into the mountains and explore its beginnings. Perhaps, she would find
Kohana in her explorations. It had been five days since Perrito had
brought his message, and she was more worried than ever.
When she reached the paddock, she leaned against the fence and watched a
foal canter next to its mother. The tiny horse kicked its hind legs,
sending clumps of grass into the air. Mariana breathed in the sweetness
of spring and tried to take her mind off of Kohana.
A voice tore her from her thoughts. "The morning is as beautiful as
you." Antonio moved so close that she could feel his breath. She stepped
away.
He moved nearer and lifted a strand of her hair and let it slip through
his fingers. "Are you wearing your hair down for me?"
"No." She turned to leave, wondering why he was back at the ranch, but
the sound of a nearby wagon stopped her. She watched as it pulled up
beside the house.
Antonio squinted. "It's Guilleramo."
Mariana closed her eyes for a moment to steady herself. Guilleramo was a
bounty hunter.
They walked up the hill to the house. The spring beauty that she had
enjoyed earlier was forgotten as she watched her father talking with
their visitor.
Guilleramo saw Antonio approaching and lifted a matted clump of hair
from the back of the wagon. "Got myself twenty of them!" He tossed the
scalp back onto the pile, and the stench of old blood overpowered the
freshness of the spring air.
More than anything, Mariana wanted to run and search for Kohana to be
sure he was safe. A ripple of nausea overpowered her. She backed away,
her hand at her throat.
"Are you okay?" Manuel took his daughter's arm and led her to the house.
"That's not something a lady should see. Your mother never would've
approved."
She sat on the sofa. The white dog trotted into the house, and her
father tried to send him away.
"No!" Mariana lifted the dog into her lap. "Let him stay."
Manuel nodded. "If it makes you happy. I wonder where he's been the last
few days."
"I don't know." She felt under his collar. There was a note, so she
said, "Papa, would you mind bringing me a glass of water? I feel a bit
faint."
As he was leaving, she read the note. "Can you meet me? I'll be waiting
in the usual spot."
Mariana wanted to run to Kohana, but with a bounty hunter in the yard,
she didn't dare. She took a sip of the water her father had brought to
her and asked something she had been avoiding, but needed to know,
"Papa, is it true about Camp Grant? Did Antonio help organize the
Mexicans who went there?"
"Who told you about that?"
"Koh-- I mean a friend."
"Kohana?"
She looked away.
"I thought Antonio said he'd been killed." Manuel kneeled in front of
her. "Mariana, has he been around here? If he's alive, Antonio should
know."
"No! Kohana's peaceful, just like those murdered at Camp Grant!" She
grabbed her father's arm, her fingers whitened as she clutched him.
"Promise me you'll never tell Antonio!"
"My child, Kohana is no longer the innocent childhood friend you
remember. After his father died, he changed."
"That's not true! That's just what Antonio claims. Prejudice forced him
out. If he'd had a Mexican mother, he'd still be here." She moved to the
edge of the couch, and the dog jumped to the floor. "You know that too!"
"That's the past, Mariana." He slowly shook his head. "He's no longer a
part of our life."
"Papa, my life's empty without him."
"You'll have a comfortable life with Antonio. He's asked to marry you,
and I gave him my permission."
"I'll kill myself before I let that murderer touch me!"
"He's not a murderer."
"Is not directing others to kill the same as doing it yourself?" She
twisted the sash on her dress. "Papa, think of what Mama would say.
Don't you remember Kohana staying up all night with her because his
father was out on an emergency? When she finally died, don't you
remember Dr. Rodriguez saying that if it hadn't been for his son's
earlier care that she wouldn't have had those three extra months?
Kohana's the reason she lived that night. Don't you remember?"
"Yes. I remember." He looked down and picked at a hangnail. "I cherished
those extra months with Rosa."
"Kohana hasn't changed. He's still very caring."
The room was silent, except for the outside sounds -- a horse neighing
and Guilleramo's wagon rolling away. They both jumped when a booming
voice filled the house.
"So, that half-breed Kohana still lives?" Antonio crossed the room to
stand in front of Mariana.
She stood and met his gaze. "How long have you been here?"
"Long enough!"
"Leave her alone, Antonio!" Perrito perked his ears and ran to his
master's side.
"Ah yes. Kohana. I see you've gone completely wild, wearing skins and
hiding in the wilderness. What would your father, the beloved doctor,
say?"
When Kohana didn't answer, he continued. "At least your arrival is
convenient. Now I don't have to track you down to finish you off."
Antonio pulled his gun from the holster. Perrito flattened his ears and
snarled. "I think I'll kill that stupid dog first," he said.
"No!" Mariana leaped between him and Perrito. "I won't let you."
"I'll worry about the dog later, then." Antonio waved the gun toward
Kohana. "Right now, I just want that Indian dead."
"Why, Antonio? Are you finally tired of rustling cattle? Do you think
with my death, you can stop your sick game and claim it was the Indians,
and people will hail you as a hero? It won't work. I've made certain of
that. Some of your enemies happen to be my friends."
"Shut up, Kohana! I should have killed you years ago, then I could've
had Mariana. I could've had the power of all the ranchers behind me by
marrying her."
Manuel fired a shot into the air. "Antonio, drop the gun!".
As Antonio turned to point his gun at Manuel, Kohana threw his knife. It
plunged into Antonio's back. As Antonio staggered, he fired his
weapon. The bullet grazed Manuel's leg. While clutching his wound,
Manuel shot Antonio in the heart; then, he slumped to the floor.
"Papa!" Mariana fell to her knees next to him.
Kohana joined her. He opened a pouch and removed several long, pointed
leaves. "Chew on these. They'll help with the pain."
Manuel chewed on the leaves as Kohana cleaned and wrapped the wound.
"Papa, what if Guilleramo heard the shots and returns?"
"I'll handle it. It's not a good idea for Kohana to be here with a
bounty hunter, though." He hugged his daughter. "Go with him, Mariana."
She hesitated. "We can't leave you."
"I'll be fine. You two have been separated for too long."
She kissed him on both cheeks before leaving.
Mariana slid onto the horse behind Kohana, and they wound their way into
the vast land of the Sierra Madre.
END
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