Mexico -- History -- Revolution, 1910-1920 -- Fiction
"We'll be going to Guadalajara soon. We'll be going there to stay.
We'll be at María's. I'll be all right there.... You'll see. What a
fine time we're going to have...."
Raul found her there, asleep. Sitting beside her, he gently woke her.
"It's time to eat," he said.
"What?" she asked.
"Lunch is ready."
"Oh ... I've slept all morning."
"Let me help you up."
"Everything's so quiet," she said.
"Everything's all right."
"I'm glad," she said.
"I've heard from General Matanzas. Troops are all around the country;
a number rode by Petaca this morning. They'll protect us, Angelina."
She sat at her dressing table, blinking. Taking her powder puff, she
began to powder her throat and neck, wanting to waken gradually.
Raul stood near her, thinking of other years, time by the window, time
in the garden, time to play games, to sit with a baby in his lap.
Nothing would recapture those days.
"Vicente is downstairs," he said, knowing how pleased she would be.
"He's downstairs! Darling, why didn't you tell me?" she cried happily,
holding her puff motionless. "How did he come?"
"He came with Octavio."
"Who's Octavio--a schoolmate?"
"Yes."
"They rode here on horseback?"
"Yes."
"They might have been shot," she murmured, thinking of those who had
died at Refugio.
They were facing one another in the mirror.
"They followed the back roads. They knew how to manage."
"Good for Vicente," she said.
"He wants to stay at Petaca," Raul said.
"You mean he won't go with me to Guadalajara? I need him."
"I think we can change his mind."
She called Vicente from the door and he came leaping upstairs, his hair
badly combed, his tropic clothes in a mess. He kissed his mother
dutifully, then turned to his father and said:
"Tell me about the shooting, the fight here." His energy flashed into
his gestures. "It must have been exciting. And to think that you
drove the soldiers away!" He beamed proudly.
"They weren't soldiers," said Raul.
"They were rabble," said Angelina.
"I'll tell you all about it later," Raul promised.
"I'm so glad you and Octavio got through safely," said Angelina.
"It was easy, Mother," said Vicente.
"Did anybody bother you?"
"No, Mother. And now everybody in Colima knows that Petaca beat off
the--the others. We're safe here."
"You and Octavio get washed for lunch," said Raul. "Aren't you hungry?"
"Sure we're hungry."
Octavio was an older boy, with pained saddle-leather face and
down-twisted mouth. "Is it going to be a revolution?" he asked, at
lunch.
"I don't know," said Raul.
"People in Colima say no," said Octavio certainly.
Raul served macaroni and chicken to the boys, helping them bountifully.
"The men who attacked Petaca weren't soldiers, were they?" asked
Octavio.
"Just peons with guns," said Angelina, wishing she could forget.
"But, but ... then it is revolution. They're sore at us," said
Octavio, rolling his eyes.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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