Conquistadora - Esmeralda Santiago [113]
The next morning, Severo climbed the stairs of the casona two at a time, as if he had urgent news. “They tell me a child was left at your door, señora.”
“Yes, a girl.” Ana looked into the basket by her side, where Conciencia slept, wrapped in Miguel’s old swaddling clothes.
Severo peered inside. Don Luis would have told the midwife to smother the infant after noticing her handicaps. Marta had walked through cane and orchards on a moonless night to save her baby. Ana had no idea that the child was Marta’s, fathered by Ramón, who continued to see her in the finca with Luis’s permission. In spite of his frail appearance, Ramón had enough energy to impregnate several women in the months before he died and had orphaned at least eight light-skinned mulattoes, cousins to the ones fathered by Inocente.
“I can take her away, señora.”
“No, don’t. Obviously her family doesn’t want her.”
“Do you mean to keep her?”
“She might not live long. I’ll make her as comfortable as possible until then.”
During the following week Conciencia clung to life as if her will and Ana’s were one. She slept most of the time and rarely cried, not even when Inés was late to nurse. Damita prepared herbal guarapos to strengthen her, and showed Ana how to dip her finger into the bowl and drop the tea into the infant’s mouth.
Besides her creamy skin, Conciencia’s only other beautiful feature was the luxurious black hair that covered her head and formed a fine down over the rest of her twisted body. As her birth bruises healed and her features settled, one thing was certain: Conciencia would not be beautiful, and might never be able to walk, but she was determined to live.
After the first precarious week, she thrived. Everyone noticed that as Conciencia grew stronger, Los Gemelos prospered. The hens, for example, laid more eggs than before Conciencia was left at Ana’s door. The sows had huge litters, every piglet healthy and promising plenty of ham. The work in the fields went smoother for those who had touched her hump, and their rows of cane germinated and grew faster.
The orchards, too, were more fruitful. Branches bent low with round, juicy lemons, oranges, and grapefruits. Mango trees blossomed and were soon studded with nipple-size fruit that grew faster than could be consumed. The humid hollow near the creek was overrun by tall palms with purple flowers that stretched into shoots that sprouted large bunches of bananas and plantains. Sweet potatoes under the ground, stately avocado trees, taro root beneath umbrella leaves—all seemed to respond to a silent command to propagate.
Several women became pregnant, some past childbearing age. As the vegetation, animals, and people multiplied, Conciencia flourished under Ana’s care, the newfound affection of Flora and Inés, and the respect her lucky hump brought from everyone else.
Despite Ana’s earliest fears, Conciencia did learn to crawl and walk, even as her hump became more pronounced. Soon everyone called her Conciencia la Jorobá, and for the rest of her life no one ever asked her last name.
WHAT TO DO ABOUT THE CAMPESINOS
A few weeks after the Argosos left, Ana received the terms she’d agreed to in order to stay at the hacienda. Eugenio was more generous than she’d expected. As la patrona, she’d receive the manager’s salary of one thousand pesos a year. In addition, he provided for an allowance of five hundred pesos per annum for her personal expenses. No loans or large purchases of land or inventory could be effected without prior arrangement. Financial dealings were to go through Mr. Vicente Worthy, Eugenio’s agent in San Juan.
Ana studied the ledgers for the last four harvests. Yields at Hacienda los Gemelos had increased at least 15 percent per annum, but sugar production had cost more than the income generated each year. Mr. Worthy’s reports indicated that sugar prices around the world had fallen over the 1840s as India, with a huge, inexpensive