Chapter Four.
Neetz seated Mano at the table which sat across from the cot where he had slept. It was a nice piece of furniture, with three matching chairs. As his eyes adjusted to the darker surroundings he noticed many things which he had missed at first glance. It was more a cavern than a cave, with the ceiling at least ten feet high. It extended a full forty feet from the entrance to the rear wall. Much of the space appeared to be natural, but there was clear evidence that the hands of men had enlarged the original offering. The back of the cave was divided by a hand laid stone wall, with beds on both sides. The blankets were not the woven fabrics of the Indians, rather, factory produced items one might find at Casa Montoya. One side held a mahogany dresser, with a walnut dresser on the other side. There were linen trunks at the foot of each bed and small rugs in each chamber. Paintings and dried flowers adorned the walls. To Mano's immediate left stood a china hutch with plates, saucers, bowls and cups. They didn't all match, but the different colors appealed to his eye. The hard rock floor was swept clean.
"You have a beautiful home, Senora Fitzgerald. The furnishings, the fabrics, it is all so lovely."
Neetz stopped kneading the dough in her hands and smiled. "Senora Fitzgerald," she repeated. 'You are a gentleman, Manoya. I have not heard that in many years. I thank you." She returned to the task at hand as she continued to speak. "Cimmaron finds these things in the desert, the chairs, the tables. Sometimes they are left for a reason. Usually they are left because the Apache have no need for them once they have taken what they want."
She pointed to the various pieces of furniture. "When Cimmaron freed Lark and me, he vowed to have these nice things for us."
"Lark. Your son?"
"Aye. The one blessing of me time with those animals. He was like a little bird from the very beginning. He brought such joy and never asked for anything." She paused from her task of flattening the dough and gazed out to the dimming light.
' I am so sorry for your loss, Senora Fitzgerald. I know Cimmaron held my brother-in-law responsible for..."
"He knows he was wrong, now. It was just the Fitzgerald in him, again. Cimmaron will never tell me what happened that night at the Chaparral, but he came home without his knife. For him to give it to another man told me all I needed to know."
As she spoke, a large shadow appeared in the opening. Cimmaron gave Neetz a kiss on the cheek as he headed into the cave. "You'll not be dripping water all over me clean floors, Cimmaron," she barked. 'Take off the poncho here in the entrance."
"Aye, Mum." responded the man.
Mano smiled, as the voice of his own mother echoed in his mind.
Cimmaron shed the wet poncho and stepped into the cave, facing Mano. He was no longer the baby faced man- child Mano once knew. He stood several inches taller than the Mexican, twenty pounds heavier. The years of surviving in desert was reflected in his face. The dark red hair was braided on both sides, the face clean shaven, the teeth white. He was more impressive than Mano had noticed the previous day.
"Joachim Fitzgerald," said Cimmaron, holding out his hand.
Mano took his hand and shook. He gave Cimmaron and Neetz a quizzical look which made them both chuckle.
"Fitzgerald would say that Joachim's hair was the color of cinnmenun, cimmennen..."
"Cinnamon, Mama."
"Aye. Well, I couldn't say it then either. It came out "cimmaron" and Fitzgerald liked that better, so, that became his name."
As Cimmaron walked back to his bedroom to change out of his wet moccasins, Neetz continued her story.
"When I was with the Apache, I would whisper his name to the squaws whenever I was alone with one of them, They would hiss that my boy was dead, but I knew they weren't sure. The mention of his name spooked them."
" If I may ask," Mano said, "How did you know he was alive?"
Neetz paused. "A mother knows. By the time Cimmaron was six he could snare rabbits as well as anyone. When he was seven, he killed a deer by himself. I knew he could survive. He was Kiliwa and Fitzgerald."
Cimmaron returned to the dining area and stared at Mano's attire. For the first time since the man had entered the cave, Mano remembered he was wearing a dress. He didn't know what to say.
"So, Monolo Montoya, how is your mother's elephant?"
Both of the Kiliwas laughed lightly.
Mano gave them a confused look although there was something oddly familiar about the question.
"You speak when you dream, Manoya"
"Montoya, Mum, Mon-toy-ya"
" You kept asking your mother about her elephant!" Neetz was now laughing out loud but there was not a trace of malice in her tone.
"Aye Dios mio...Caramba" exclaimed Mano with a laugh. " Such a habit could cause many, many problems for me."
Neetz started speaking to Cimmaron in a tongue Mano had never heard. The two looked at him as they spoke, with Cimmaron nodding his head several times.
"Mama says you must go to sleep again so we can set and brace your broken bone. You will need to drink her medicine once more."
Mano grimaced as Neetz spoke to her son. He walked to the hutch and withdrew three plates and cups and set them on the table. Returning to the hutch , he opened a drawer and removed three sets of silverware, placing them on the table alongside the plates. He started to seat himself when Neetz said something to him in Kiliwa. Cimmaron rolled his eyes, then arose and returned to the hutch. Opening a different drawer, he removed cloth napkins which he placed alongside the three plates before sitting back down.
Neetz turned from the firepit and placed a sizzling skillet of meat and vegetables on a pad in the center of the table. She then retrieved a cloth towel which held the hot flat bread she had just made. As she seated herself, she asked Mano to say grace. Without hesitation, he bowed his head and began, " Bless us, Dear Father, for these thy gifts, which we are about to recieve, from thy bounty , through Christ, Our Lord. Amen "
Neetz repeated the "Amen".
Cimmaron did not.
Mano was ravenous, The smoked meat with the tortillas from the cafe' was the only thing he had eaten in the last two days. Neetz's offering, venison, with onions, peppers and fresh tomatos, was as delicious as any meal he could remember. The flatbread, a thicker, more doughy tortilla, was a treat. He sat back and patted his stomach as he complimented Neetz on the meal. As she began to clear the table, he and Cimmaron looked at each other. It was still a little uncomfortable to be sitting in this man's presence. There was, in fact, very little Mano really, truly, knew about Cimmaron. The man was an enigma to everyone. A cold blooded killer to some. A mystic warrior to others. An angel of mercy to others. He was all of these things, Mano thought, yet, perhaps, he was none of these things.
"We could have been amigos" Mano quietly said.
Cimmaron thought about the words.
"No. I'm afraid that could ne'er have been. I had to find me mother and to seek payment from me father's killers. To have become a part of your world would have not allowed that. Once the Apache knew of such a thing they would have attacked you, or your people, until they found me. No. it could ne'er be so."
"Forgive me for asking but.. why have you brought me here? Senora Fitzgerald has told me that I am the only one to have been brought to this place. Why is that?" Mano asked, the sincerity clearly written on his face.
The responding look was measured, the response deliberate."Many times I have felt the warmth and comfort of the Casa Montoya. In times of loneliness, I could go there and feel whole. I wanted you to know that feeling from us to you."
Manolito's head tiltled back as he tried to balance Cimmaron's words with his own narrative. He had never seen Cimmaron at the Casa. He had never been invited in. It was well guarded, a boy could never enter his home... Could it be possible that Cimmaron, the boy, could outwit Don Sebastian and all of the sentries?... Was there another boy, a ghost boy, in his home when he was growing up?... The thought of such a thing being even remotely possible was unsettling to Mano.
Cimmaron rose and retrieved the tea from the edge of the firepit and filled Mano's cup.
"Gracias" he said quietly, still considering Cimmaron's words.
"Di nada"
The Kiliwa sat and rested his forearms on the table. Leaning forward he looked at Mano intently. He had the air of a man who wanted to get something off his chest.
"The day after the Apache attacked, they came back to try and find me. Pop had told me to run when it began and I did. I ran in the darkness as fast and as far as I could. I did what the Kiliwa had taught me, to not run in the sand and leave tracks, but it took me time to go from rock to rock. When the sun came back up, I still wasn't very far from the wagon. I got to some big rocks by the time they returned. I was so scared . I knew they would find me, but there was a man in the rocks where I was hiding, an old, old Apache man. He saw me and held out his hand. He didn't say anything, just held out his hand.
I didn't know what to do. I thought I was caught, but when I took his hand, he began trotting through a trail in the rocks, away from the men. We moved all day and into the night. He ne'er said a word. He brought me to this place.
I lived with the old man for two years, until he died. We learned to speak to each other. He lived as an Apache with his son. When the son died, and there was no one to care for him, they left him in the desert to die. All he had was his knife. And then, me."
Cimmaron rose and walked to the hutch and grabbed something wrapped in cloth from the top shelf. He placed it in front of Mano and gestured for him to unwrap it. It was a knife, a knife very similar to the one Cimmaron had given Buck.
" He knew of this place from his youth and knew it was too remote and too small for the Apache to bother with. We lived here. He taught me many skills I didn't have; how to find water, which plants I could use to survive, what the sky could tell me. We would go out to the desert and take things we needed, bows and arrows from sleeping Apaches, knives from dead bodies, tools from deserted wagons."
"Pistoles?" Mano asked.
"No. The old man did not like guns. They were like the jackass. They were loud, they smelled and they always needed to be fed. He said all a man needs to survive is an arrow, a stone and a knife. He was right."
"A stone? ' Mano inquired, eyebrow raised.
Cimmaron rose and untied his belt, a long thin strip of leather, and held the ends in his hand. From his pocket he removed a stone roughly the size of a cherry. He placed it in the elbow of the sling and spun it rapidly overhead. When he released one side of the sling , the stone shot out the entrance of the cave. Mano whistled, appreciatively.
"When I told the old man of my plan to rescue Mama , he said such a simple idea would fail, that they were the plans of a boy. He said I would need to kill all the fathers, all the sons, all the grandsons. Only then , he said, would the Apache know to leave us alone. The Old Apache knew Cochise when they were boys and he told me Cochise would respect my actions. He made me promise that I would wait until my skills were honed before I acted. He told me I would know when the time was right. I promised him.
A day before he died, he told me about the Rancho Montoya, of how to find it, of the canyon country near there where I could live. We both knew no one would be able to catch me in those rocks. He said that I would always be able to get food there if I was smart, like the coyote. Never take more than I need . Never take unless I had need. Never be seen . "
Cimmaron leaned back in his seat and gazed down at the table's edge. "He told me he was about to die. I thanked him for saving me life, and he just smiled. He said when I got older I would learn that it was I who had saved a life. I buried me teacher the next day and packed a bag with the few things I needed, and went to the Rancho Montoya as he had said to do."
"You were only ten years old and you went from here to Rancho Montoya by yourself ? On foot?" Mano asked. It seemed impossible.
'Aye. It wasn't hard. I was well prepared and I traveled under the moon often . Once I found the rocks I began to follow the men of the rancho whenever I saw them. In time they led me to the Casa. It was everything I was told but I found something there the old man never mentioned.
I found a family."
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