The Witches of El Paso

Chapter 22

22

Nena opened the shutters of her room, letting in fresh air, feeling the breeze on her face. She was a disgraced woman, with no family, no money, no place to go. What was she going to do with herself?

One day when she was a girl playing in the front yard, Nena had heard loud whining and terrible gritos. Out on the sidewalk, a dog pumping away on top of another. The lady dog looked very upset, but when Luna ran outside and sprayed the pair with a hose, they ran off together, nipping at each other, ready to go again.

That had been Nena for two months—not thinking, not caring, her hunger endless. And now she was going to end up like one of the neighborhood dogs with their heavy bellies and swollen nipples, having nothing but her teeth for protection. How could Nena have been so stupid? She knew that sex caused pregnancy; she just hadn’t thought it would happen to her. She was too young, she wasn’t married, she wasn’t ready. She thought that what she did here couldn’t have real consequences.

Nena hadn’t been able to sleep that night, and twice in the morning she’d thrown up in the chamber pot. When María came to dress her, Nena told her that she was sick, which was nothing less than the truth.

María nodded curtly, but soon enough she was back, bringing with her a tisana that she put in Nena’s hands.

“Maybe I can help you.”

“With what?”

“Oh, se?orita. It won’t help to ignore the problem. What are you going to do?”

“I have a cold. I’ll get over it soon.”

“You don’t have to tell stories to me. I know what’s going on. There are herbs to make it go away. I owe you. I could help you in that way.”

“No. I don’t want to do that.”

“Then he needs to take care of you.”

“How?” Nena asked.

“Emiliano’s a good boy.”

“Is he?”

“I’m going to tell him what’s happened to you.”

“Please don’t.” Along with everything else, Nena was embarrassed. Emiliano wouldn’t understand. A man’s thing got big and then it got small again, but that was all that happened to his body. The baby was growing in her, and soon everyone would see what she had just discovered for herself. María left the room, leaving Nena lying on top of the covers. She drank the tea, forced down a few bites of bolillo. An hour later, Nena heard the latch lift.

Emiliano stood at the doorway, grinning, which seemed wrong. “María said I needed to come talk to you.”

“We can’t be here alone,” Nena said. He was going to make things worse than they already were. Nena would be the one to pay the price, not Emiliano, if they were discovered alone together.

Emiliano closed the space between them, standing right next to her bed. He put his hands on Nena’s stomach, spreading them wide.

“Stop,” Nena said.

“Good thing we’re getting married.”

“No, we’re not. We can’t.”

“Is there something you aren’t telling me? Is there another man? Joaquín?” Emiliano asked, laughing.

“Never. Don’t say that.”

“Then what?”

“I’m not someone you can marry. Your father will never allow it.”

“We can do whatever we want.”

“I don’t have a family here, no one to look out for me. Your father has already made plans—”

“Yes, he has.”

“So, you see what I mean,” Nena said, her heart breaking at his cowardice.

“I won’t let him marry you. You’re mine. But you’re right, we can’t marry here. We’ll have to go somewhere else. Together.” Emiliano sat down on the edge of the bed.

Nena looked up at him. She needed to know if he could leave behind everything he had in the world. She stared hard into his eyes, seeing only his dark irises, the little veins in the glossy whites. His eyes told her nothing. What had she been expecting to see? What else did she need to know except for the testimony of his presence? He knew that she was pregnant. He wanted to take care of her.

“If we go, we have to go right away,” Nena said.

“Tomorrow morning then.”

“How do we do it?” Nena asked.

“They’ll be suspicious if we go out riding together, so we’ll leave separately.”

“Yes.”

“I’ll ride to the vineyard early in the morning, and I’ll bring Palomita with me. You and María will say you’re going to mass, but you’ll take the ferry to the north, and we’ll meet at the crossroads.”

“And then what?”

“We’ll ride to the mission at San Elizario, where we’ll be married. By tomorrow night you’ll be Se?ora de Galvez. Yes?”

“Yes. And where will we live?”

“Where do you want to go?”

“To the north, to the United States,” Nena said. “St. Louis.”

“Isn’t that French territory?”

Nena wasn’t sure about that, hazy on her history. She just wanted to get far enough away from Don Javier, out of Mexico and New Spain. “How about New Orleans?”

“I didn’t know you liked the French so much! We could sail from Veracruz, but it would be a very long journey. Let’s go to Santa Fe instead. Don’t you have family there?”

“Yes,” Nena said, even though she knew no one. The important thing was to get away, and now. Nena knew how to ride. “What do we do about money?”

“I’ll take care of that. No te preocupes,” Emiliano said, touching Nena’s lips with his.

The next morning, Nena and María left the house as though they were going to early mass. Nena’s excitement was a trembling ache running through her body. She and María walked quickly through town, across the plaza and past the church, north to the ferry, then they crossed to the other side of the Rio Bravo.

The insects of the desert droned, and the wind swept across the sand, rustling the sage and creosote bushes. The sun rose higher. Sweat made Nena’s mantilla stick to her forehead, and her wrist felt funny, itchy. She pushed back her sleeve, not seeing a rash. She scratched at it, hard.

“You’re going to make it itch worse,” María said to her.

The two of them walked out on the road away from town. With each step, the desert grew bigger, the mountains higher. The difficulty of the plan she’d made with Emiliano became clearer the longer she and María walked. Even if Nena and Emiliano made it to San Elizario and were married, then what? They’d still have to find their way up through the pass. On the other side, they’d have to ride hundreds, if not thousands, of miles, most of that distance through wilderness, prey for animals and Apaches. What would they eat? Where would they find water to drink? How would they feed the horses? Nena had nothing with her but the leftover breakfast rolls. She should have taken the silver candlesticks, a cold pigeon from the kitchen, anything she could lay her hands on.

Nena told herself she shouldn’t think that way. She should trust that Emiliano would come prepared, with horses and water and wine and gold. Nena looked up at the sun. He was supposed to have been here before she arrived. What would she say if someone asked why she and María were waiting at the crossroads, unaccompanied women without the protection of a man? Whoever saw her might make Nena and María go back to town. But there were worse things that could happen. There were Apaches around here, too. If they were attacked, what could she do? Fly away? She’d never actually flown, only hovered, useless magic.

The wind picked up, blowing in gusts, covering Nena in a layer of yellow dust. She felt it on her lips, in the creases of her eyelids. Already her tongue was like the tongue of a lizard, scaly and rough. She felt ill, dizzy with thirst.

“Something must have happened,” María said. “We’ll go back home.”

“No, let’s stay here just a bit longer,” Nena said.

María nodded, slipping her rosary out of her pocket to click the beads between her fingers. Nena didn’t want to pray with her. Nena needed to have faith that Emiliano would come.

The wind died down and the skies cleared. It was a beautiful afternoon, the most beautiful afternoon of Nena’s life. They waited until the sun was at its highest point, and then longer, one hour, two. Nena watched the sun start to make its way down the sky. Then she saw a horse and rider coming their way, fast. No, not a horse, a burro, carrying Antonio. When he reached them, Antonio jumped down, his bare feet sending up puffs of dust. He took a letter from inside his shirt and handed it to Nena. Nena unfolded the piece of paper, recognizing Emiliano’s handwriting: Antonio will accompany you back to the house. Today is not a good day for a horseback ride north.

Nena folded the letter back up, following the original creases. Why had Nena let herself get her hopes up? Why had she put her future in the hands of a man? She’d known that Emiliano was bad, that he drank too much, that he cared too much about himself. Her mistake had been in thinking that she could change him. He liked what he had, the promise of his future, and he liked having Nena in the house to use for his pleasure. Why would he want to give up his comfort?

Nena couldn’t return to the de Galvez house. If she went back, she would have to accept Emiliano for what he was. If she went back, she’d have to marry Don Javier.

“We’re going to the convent,” Nena said to María.

“Yes,” María said. “I’ve been praying for Sister Benedicta to show you mercy.”

Nena sang the encanto to call the ladybugs to her, feeling the familiar tugging at her brain as she connected to the other side.

Three ladybugs blinked in, landing on Nena’s hand. She opened up their little minds, inscribing the message that she was coming to the convent. Then Nena sang the ladybugs to Carmela, watching as they blinked out, one, two, three.