Bless Me, Ultima: Chapters 2-3

Ultima slipped easily into· the routine of our daily life.

Deborah and Theresa were happy because Ultima did many of the household chores they normally did, and they
had more time to spend in the attic and cut out an inter­minable train of paper dolls which they dressed, gave names
to, and most miraculously, made talk.

My father's dream was to gather his sons around him and move westward to the land of the setting sun, to the vineyards of California.

He would rage against the town on the opposite side of the river which drained a man of his freedom, and he would cry because the war had ruined his dream.

I had been afraid of the awful presence of the river, which was the soul of the river, but through her I learned that my spirit shared in the spirit of all things.

"He has killed my brother!" my father exclaimed.

Chavez regained part of his composure.

I sniffed the air; there was a tinge of autumn in it.

I could hear them giving frenzied, shouted instructions.

Crouched in the reeds and half submerged in the muddy waters lay the figure of Lupito, the man who had killed the sheriff.

I do not know if he saw me, or if the light cut off his vision, but I saw his bitter, contorted grin.

"I have to deputize you-" Vigil started to say.

"Go back to your drinking and leave this job to men," one of them jeered at him.

"He killed the sheriff in cold blood," another added.

One single shot sounded then a barrage followed it like the roar of a cannon, like the rumble of thunder in a summer thunderstorm.

In my headlong rush I disturbed sleep­ing birds and their shrill cries and slapping wings hit at my face.

Act of Contrition.

In the autumn I would have to go to the school in the town, and in a few years I would go to catechism lessons in the
church.

And where was Lupito's soul winging to, or was it washing down the river to the fertile valley of my uncles' farms?

Suddenly the terri­ble, dark fear that had possessed me was gone.

I groped for the stair railing in the dark and felt a warm hand take mine.

Save us, my brothers cried and cowered at my words.

I had received cuts from tree branches before and I knew that the next day the cuts were red with dry blood and that the welts were sore.

My mother was a devout Catholic, and so she saw the salvation of the soul rooted in the Holy Mother

"Ah, but boys grow to be men," Ultima said as she sipped the black, scalding coffee.

"I am beginning to understand why your mother calls you the inquisitor," she said.

Also, my mother admonished us to bow our heads when we passed in front of the house.

He grabbed the top of his head and toppled on the dust of the street.

I braced myself and stood my ground.

He let out a cry that sent me reeling backward.