excerpt
I realized that of all my companions in the camp, it was Anteater
who understood me more than the rest. His loyalties were variable,
too. His hair gleamed copper in the sun, with a curly texture,
completely at odds with the average Indian. When it was safe to talk,
beyond the camp, I asked him about the lightness of his skin.
“Who is your father, my friend?” I asked.
“A white man,” he said at last. “He took my mother. I give thanks
that the moon hid her face that night so that not much of his white
skin came to me.”
“I am sorry,” I said, but inwardly felt a sense of relief as things fell
rapidly into place with this confession. “Did your mother belong to
his encomienda?”
He nodded. If his mother still lived and worked in the service of
the same man, Tamanoa could have brothers and sisters from the
same father. Now, I understood why his easygoing manner always
gave me the sense he was hiding darker things. His smile vanished
too quickly, his eyes kept contact only fleetingly. There was always
an air of inadequacy about him, as though he did not feel
comfortable anywhere.
“In El Tocuyo,” he added.
“Does she still live there?”
He nodded again and said, “He is in this expedition, but I cannot
tell you his name.”
I didn’t want to abuse his trust, but all the faces of the
conquistadors who lived in El Tocuyo passed before my mind’s eye.
Our friendship had just crossed the threshold of race.
“You know, I almost don’t remember mine,” I said, sealing our
bond with the wax of my own confidence. “So we are the same, you
and me. We are both split men.”
Tamanoa and I followed the procession beyond our camp to the
clearing where our horses were foraging. Several of our horses
heaved their heads and looked at me, chewing lopsidedly. Babieca
saw me and walked in my direction, snorting, no doubt in search of
a carrot. I ignored the horses.
I only wanted to get a final glimpse of her, unseen.
Libros Libertad 