Chapter six
It only took a few moments for Mano to regain his bearings once his eyes opened. The earthen smell and the lingering scents of his current surroundings were familiar. As he sat up he could see sunlight beyond the cave's mouth. He pulled back the blanket and hitched the hem of his gingham dress until he could see his right foot. It had been wrapped in numerous layers of stiff agave leaves with several willow stalks sticking out the top. Mano could tell these wooden splints locked his leg bone in place. Numerous thin leather strips secured the splints and leaves in place. He could feel heat from his new boot. Neetz must have boiled the fiberous leaves to make them compliant. Once they cooled and hardened, his leg would be molded in place. It seemed solid.
He found out quickly that he could put no pressure on the cast. When he tried, the pain was immediate and sharp. He took a deep breath, and, holding up his skirt, hopped to the opening of the cave.
Down below him he saw Neetz. The manufactured clothes she wore the previous day had been traded for something more traditional . She wore tall moccasins and a leather skirt, with a lighter colored tunic. She was bending over tending plants, with the small burro, whom the Kiliwa had referred to as "WeeLassie", following her every move. The animal had probably been lost or abandoned by the silver prospectors years before and had found a good life with the family Fitzgerald. Neetz kept brushing aside the little burro's head but it insisted on sticking its nose in her work. He could hear her laughter as she gently admonished the animal. Clearly, it held a strong emotional bond with the Kiliwa woman.
Mano hopped back into the cave a few steps and seated himself in Neetz's rocking chair, a beautiful piece of furniture undoubtedly rescued by Cimmaron from the desert.
Mano smiled. He felt good. He realized he would have never gotten out of his predicament without Cimmaron's intervention. Even if he had, the severity of his broken leg would have left him incapable of little more than crawling. The pain, now more of a constant throb, would have been debilitating. In a few days, he thought, he would feel well enough to head back to the Chaparral, if Cimmaron could provide him a horse.
On the side table next to the chair sat the book Neetz had been reading the previous morning. Mano reached over and took it from the table.. The dark blue leather binding was embossed with gilted gold and red banding. A raised cross confirmed what Mano already knew. It was a bible, a very nice bible, an expensive bible. He casually opened the cover and read the inscription:
To my beloved Mother,
To know you is to know laughter
To know you is to know joy
To know you is to know love
To know you is to know the touch of the hand of God
Your loving son, Manolo
Mano's body jolted as he stared at the words, stunned.
He closed the book and focused on the cover before returning to the inscription. He sat there, frozen, his face a complete blank.
"How could you forget this book, Mano?!. How in the name of all that is Holy could you not know this book, Manolo? How is it possible that you would not remember this gift?"
It had been the most important thing in his thirteen year old world. He had seen in at the bookstore in Nogales when he had gone there with his father. To be able to give this to his mother as an Easter gift was his first thought, but at almost twelve dollars , there was no way he could afford to buy it. Don Sebastian refused to give him the money to make a purchase and laughed at the boy's insistence that he would find a way to get the money.
Don Sebastian eased his comments and made a deal with young Manolo. He would pay the costs of the book if Mano agreed to work like a ranch hand for a month. If Mano quit, if Mano's work was shoddy or unsatifactory, then the Don would pay him nothing. The father considered it to be a fool's bet, but the young man accepted the offer. Daily, he shoveled the fresh manure from the stalls, he dug a ditch one hundred feet long, two feet deep, that he knew would never be used. The older man took an almost sadistic pleasure in finding ever more difficult and demanding tasks for Mano to perform. To the Don's surprise, the son fulfilled each duty he had been given. He paid Mano in full, not a peso more, and Mano ordered the book .That Easter he presented it to his mother. The joy in her eyes, the soft kiss on his forehead, the look of respect from his sister, made it all worthwhile.
Time , however, marched on, as it always does. There was the trip to Europe with his sister, the emergence of his early manhood, the death of his mother. In time the beautiful gift became just another book in a house full of books. It went from a spot of prominence on its own small table to a spot on a library shelf next to other forgotten books.
" I was there the day you gave that Bible to your mother." spoke a voice.
Mano rose quickly on his one good leg.
"No! You were not there! I was there! Not you!" Mano seethed. "How dare you take this from my home ! What right do you have to take this ... this gift I presented my mother? This is no loaf of bread ,Cimmaron, it is not a piece of meat, it is not some stupid chicken! You had no right to steal this! Not this !"
Cimmaron remained calm, his words steady.
"I did not steal it. I took it. Me Mum needed a bible and no one wanted this one. She deserved a bible as nice as your mother's. I made sure she got one. You risked a few pesos to get this book. I risked my life."
Mano was shaking with anger but knew there was little he could do. It was no different than the day he was caught naked in the pond. He had no options. Mano turned away from Cimmaron and noticed the still hot embers in the firepit. Cimmaron noticed as well.
'You throw that bible in the firepit and I will kill you where you stand, Montoya."
Mano stood there and breathed in deeply. Tucking the bible under his arm, he hopped over to the table and sat down. He set the bible down gently and glared at Cimmaron before letting out a long sigh. He looked to the floor and said nothing.
Cimmaron walked around him to the hutch. "Coffee?"
"Si, gracias." The voice was quiet, resigned.
The Kiliwa placed two cups on the table and grabbed the coffee from the edge of the firepit. He filled both cups before seating himself. The two men sat in silence.
" My anger is not with you, Cimmaron. Forgive me. My anger is with myself , that I could forget I once bought this bible. I held it in my hands and didn't even recognize it..." Mano's words trailed off.
"It matters not, Montoya. It is not a gift from you to her. It is not a gift from me to Mum. It is more than you or me. It is a gift from a son to a mother. That is all"
Mano considered the words.
" Gracias. I like that thought. Very much... you said you were there? Please, tell me of this."
"Do you remember the tall saguaro above the back courtyard, Montoya, the one with three arms?"
"Si, si, I know it well."
The next time you return to the Casa Montoya you must visit it. You will find a small wooden seat behind the clump of large sagebrush at the foot of the cactus. That is where I hid and watched your Easter parties on the back plaza. When I saw what you gave your mother, and saw her joy, I swore to meself that one day Mum would have such a fine bible."
Mano nodded modestly and sipped his coffee.
" I was sorry to learn of your mother's passing, Montoya. She was a woman of much grace."
"Gracias, si, she was."
"I thought of her after I got Mum back, of how you lost yours a year before I found mine and I knew I could now have the bible. It could still be a gift from a son to a mother. It was very difficult to enter the Casa Montoya. I had not been there for many years and I was a grown man, not a boy. It took a full day to be able to get in. I was afraid Rabbit Ears would hear me, but I was able to finally get into the library. The book was no longer on its own table; it was somewhere on the shelves with all the other books. I looked for it, but the room was so dark I couldn't find it. Then, I heard the door knob turn."
"Porque, no!" exclaimed Mano, his face lighting up." Pepe?"
"No. It was the Don. He came in and lit the lamps as I hid behind the big curtains. He worked on his books for an hour before he left. I hoped he wouldn't need to open the windows, and , fortunately for us both, he didn't. With the light I was able to locate the bible on the shelves. After he was gone, I took the book. I swore I would never again set foot in the Casa Montoya."
The two men shared a chuckle.
"You must know something, Montoya. When Mum was a girl she lived at the Dominican mission. They taught her to read and write Espanola. She was converted to the Catholic religion and read the bible every day. When the Kiliwa elders rebeled against the Dominicans, they took all of the children back into the steep mountains with them. The only thing Mum took from the Mission was her bible. She still had that same bible the day we were attacked. Her faith, Montoya, was what kept her alive when she was with the Apaches...let me show you something."
Cimmaron rose and walked to the back of the cave. On a dresser in Neetz's room sat a jewelry box. From it he withdrew what appeared to be a necklace. Returning to the dining area he laid it carefully on the table. Mano just looked at it, saying nothing.
It was a rosary. Fully half of the black beads had been replaced with wooden ones which varied slightly in size. The silver chain which once held the beads had been replaced with a fine thread of sinew. The crucifix was chipped and cracked. The Jesus figure showed the wear of being held countless times.
'This is the only thing me Mum had with her when she was taken to the Apache camp. One of the men took it from her, but the chief made him give it back. He allowed her to keep this one piece of her life. The squaws always tried to take it from her. They would break the chain and scatter the beads and then laugh at her when she tried to find them. Finally, she began to wrap it in a cloth and bury it in the floor of her cage. Every night she would take it out and pray. It saved her life, she said.
After Lark was born and got a little bigger, he kept wanting to dig up her rosary and play with the pretty beads. That's when she began to teach him the rosary. She told him these were their magic beads, that they would one day bring his brother, who would save him. It was their special secret and it mattered to that little boy. He learned the prayers and would say them quietly with Mum each night. He made sure the squaws never found this rosary.
After Lark and Mum came to live here, he still said a rosary with Mum twice a week, till the day he died. I miss hearing that harmony. I would listen to them, their two voices speaking as one. I admired him. He believed in its power because it didn't lie to him. It answered his prayers. "
Mano listened respectfully and thought of the times he had done the exact same thing with his mother.
"You had something in your hand when I saw you on that cliff, Montoya. I could hear your voice but not your words. It was a rosary in your hands, was it not?"
Mano gave him a long look."Si, it was a rosary."
"It made me think of Lark. That is when I knew to get WeeLassie. That is when I knew to help you. "