Excerpt
The creases between Bartolomé’s brows deepened, but he kept
his eyes on the sea. He flicked a mosquito from his ankle, then
crossed his arms over his chest and adjusted his weight. “I worried
about this when you wrote saying you had been sent to this
mission.” Bartolomé’s words were like a blow to my stomach. “I
thought maybe you had stopped going mad every time someone
was wronged.” He sighed. “It wasn’t your fault, you know?”
“What? What wasn’t my fault?”
“The way our mother died. You couldn’t have stopped it. He was
a grown man and you just a lad.”
“What in heaven are you talking about?”
“Ever since she was killed, you do this. Whenever someone else
gets wronged, you take it personally.”
“I haven’t the slightest idea what you’re saying.” I said, turning to
leave, suddenly angry.
“Damnation, Chava,” he said, taking me by the sleeve. “I always
thought you were going to grow old in that monastery, become a
wise man and some day the Guardian of the convent or even the
Provincial Minister of the Order. But why in the world did you want
to come here?”
I shrugged. “I couldn’t bring myself to be content shut up in the
monastery. I wanted to do something worthwhile.” I paused,
waiting for some retort, but he was silent. “We are bringing eternal
life to people who had none until now. Do you realize that every
Indian that dies without being baptized loses his entrance into
heaven? It’s of the utmost importance to convert them and bring
them to the Church before Jews and Protestants contaminate them.
They are God’s children, too.”
“I’m not sure they’ll see it that way. Surely you can see this is a
war?” He raised his eyebrows. “And these ones,” he said, pointing
with his thumb toward the bonfire, “these sons of their mothers who
claim to be God-sent. Truth is they are massacring those savages.
They couldn’t care less if they go to heaven or hell. Hombre! It’s not
the best of Spain that comes across the ocean looking for fortune!
Open your eyes, Chava, and trust no one.”
Libros Libertad 