Chapter 18

Frowning, a far-away look in her eyes, looking focused on her memories, señorita Alacen seemed to be fighting the last mists of sleep and blackout in an attempt to mentally go back to the Camino Real, thereby travelling within her own mind.

"The scorpion... the scorpion stung me... Before that... I had fallen… fallen from my horse, that is... My horse!" she suddenly exclaimed.

"It's here too, at the cuartel; you can rest assured," Diego told her, hiding his annoyance with this interruption as best as he could.

"But he's been wounded in the leg, he was-"

"Don't worry," Diego interrupted to reassure her seeing she was becoming agitated, "he's been bandaged, tended to, groomed, and the soldiers are taking care of him. I myself have seen him, he's getting better."

Diego, despite his frustration, understood quite well the concern this young woman had for her horse. If Tornado was injured and he couldn't go and see him for himself... Yes, he could understand.

"So," Diego said to steer the conversation back on the track it shouldn't have left, "you fell. And after that...?"

"After that… I remember that I felt much pain, I had fallen on my shoulder. I think my head also hit the ground, but I didn't lose consciousness right then. But then the young man – ah yes, I've forgotten to tell you there was a young man – the young man moved his hands all around, but he said nothing. In retrospect I think he wanted to indicate that he would try to help me, but at the time I didn't understand.

"He is deaf and mute," Diego merely informed her in a neutral voice, not wanting to influence her judgment of him.

"Ah," señorita Alacen simply answered. "The latter therefore explains the former."

This seemed to be a mere piece of information to her, a logical explanation for a phenomenon she had noted, nothing more, whereas to most strangers or newcomers this was what defined Felipe. What he was limited to, what he came down to be in their eyes. 'The deaf-mute', 'the deaf-and-dumb boy'.

"Anyway," she went on, "That's when the scorpion stung me; but seeing that, the young man didn't find anything better than the folk remedy that consists in slashing the bite, thereby spilling the venom throughout the area and mixing it with my blood."

"Yet this is the best way to expel the poison before it had time to take effect..."

"Oh, so you too are a believer in this myth!"

"Myth?" Diego exclaimed.

"Well yes," she explained, "the best course of action in such circumstances is to remain calm, not to thrash about to slow the diffusion of the venom, and not to slash through the bite, to prevent the venom from quickly mixing with the blood; and also to prevent infections of the wound. Because given the state of the knife the young man used after it fell down, the blade covered with dust from the ground, it's a sheer miracle that gangrene didn't set in my leg!"

That was a bit rich, Diego thought to himself. Felipe had helped her, had tended to her wounds, and she was complaining about it! Taking a deep breath, he thanked God for having some extensive experience when it comes to keeping his mouth shut and not replying too sharply, because Felipe needed her help and Diego was well aware that exchanging rather strong words with the only person who could clear his son's name might slow his release.

"Yet it is a well-tried technique that has saved the life of more than one victim," he replied, remembering his own past encounter with a snake.

Involuntarily, he let his gaze wander to his forearm, where under the blue fabric of his jacket and the white cambric of his shirt he knew there was a discreet white scar that testified of his own use of this method.

"Nothing proves that these people would not have recovered, even without it," she replied, "and that's not to mention those who died of it. Recent studies have highlighted the risks, and established for instance that the Californian scorpion's sting was harmless in two thirds of cases; other studies, that when the venom was injected into the muscle its effect was much slower than if it was suddenly mixed with the blood, as well as that slashing the area without any disinfection, without even passing the blade through a flame, entails twice as much risks of developing an infection."

She paused to watch her vis-à-vis, who seemed both sceptical and annoyed. Annoyed of being contradicted? Perhaps, but he also seemed slightly impatient. Impatient for what? Luz truly didn't have any idea.

"Mind you, these are not my words," she said, "these studies have been published in journals and bulletins of several Faculties of medicine, including Ciudad de Mexico's. Well... this last study dealt specifically with snakebites, but I guess it can also apply to scorpion stings..."

Throughout the senorita's monologue, Diego had been speechless. He was asking for a testimony to get his son out of jail, he hadn't expected a lecture on Mexico's latest medical publications given by some young woman he didn't even know...

But now was not the time to discuss medico-scientific theories.

"Anyway," he told her, "the boy in question cut through the sting..."

He was beginning to get tired of having to constantly steer the conversation back on track.

"Yes," she confirmed. "I tried to stop him, of course, first by trying to explain that he should not do that, then by struggling and thrashing around to try and get free of his grasp, but he was stronger than I was, especially considering that I was hurt... After that..."

She paused.

"After that he got started on my shoulder," she explained, wincing. "At the time... at the time here again I struggled, I didn't want anyone to touch me there, you see it was hurting so badly! Even though I now know that he only wanted to help, I think that back then I didn't even realise I had dislocated it when I fell. It's only when I felt it get back into its socket that I realised... Heavens, how painful it is!"

She winced again. So did Diego.

"It was as if... as if someone thrust a white-hot knife in my shoulder, and kept moving the blade inside the joint. And then... then..."

"Then...?" Diego repeated.

He was holding his breath: up to this point her testimony was going in the right direction, but any word from her, any misinterpretation of Felipe's intentions or actions could backfire on the young man.