Conquistadora - Esmeralda Santiago [156]
Even before Meri’s accident, Ana spent much of her day in and around the infirmary, assisted by Conciencia, Teo, and Paula. This year, she noted that there were more serious injuries, miscarriages, and stillbirths than ever, all due to the brutal pace. In this, her thirteenth harvest at Hacienda los Gemelos, there was also an alarming number of workers who’d been whipped. The scars on the workers’ bodies were the most conspicuous sign that as the months ground toward the end, Severo was frantic to bring in a complete harvest, as he’d promised. She didn’t challenge or encourage him. She both admired and despised him for the same reason: his ability to set aside compassion in the service of a single-minded goal. But when she thought about it, she saw the same quality in herself, except that she believed she was not, like Severo, inured to the suffering of nuestra gente. She felt it, even if she wouldn’t sacrifice her own ambitions to change their circumstances.
By the end of June, when she had to settle the accounts for the harvest, Ana could report to Mr. Worthy that in spite of the losses during the epidemic, Hacienda los Gemelos was in excellent financial health. She was fully aware of the irony. Mr. Worthy and don Eugenio had no interest in the well-being of the people of Los Gemelos so long as the columns at the bottom of the ledgers showed a positive outcome relative to losses. Her conquistador ancestors, she, Mr. Worthy, don Eugenio, Severo, and thousands like them, had come to this land to prosper from its riches—by might or fright. Their wealth and power was, and continued to be, erected upon corpses.
MIGUEL GETS ALIVIO
Life for Miguel in San Juan was good. He lived in a roomy, elegant home where he was coddled and spoiled by Abuela Leonor, Elena, Siña Ciriaca, and her daughter Bombón. The city was full of soldiers and people from all over the world. His grandfather was an important man who doted on him, and don Simón was a kind and inspiring teacher. Miguel had two great friends in Andrés Cardenales Romero and Luis José Castañeda Urbina, the first two boys he met in school. Like Miguel, they were born in Puerto Rico. Andrés, who was a year older, was tall and muscular with a head that seemed too big for his body. The ladies sighed over his long lashes and copious brown hair that required frequent visits to the barber. By eleven, he already showed an incipient beard, although his parents didn’t allow him to shave.
Luis José was short and chunky, blond and hazel-eyed with carob skin. He was endearingly mischievous and loquacious, a good mimic and irrepressibly cheerful. His family nickname was Querubín, to his dismay now that he was a big boy.
Miguel was thinner and shorter than Andrés, taller than Luis José. He had Ramón’s and Inocente’s graceful physique but Ana’s stature. He had light brown hair and, as don Eugenio liked to say, his grandmother’s gray eyes.
The three boys were inseparable once they discovered they lived steps from one another’s doors. Andrés was four houses down from don Eugenio’s, and Luis José lived directly across the street. When old enough, they were allowed to walk to and from school together and one was seldom seen without the others. They learned swordsmanship from the same masters, attended catechism classes, and received their first Communion together. They were as indulged as princes but were also expected to conform to a strict code of behavior. Around ladies they were to be chivalrous, trustworthy, charming gentlemen, and the three boys learned their lessons well; but they lived in a fortress city, surrounded by soldiers, adventurers, and exiles. They were learning that when among men, they must be patently virile, courageous, honorable, and exhibit a zest for life while at the same time be willing to die for a worthy cause.
Andrés had a reputation as a seducer, even if, at eleven, he used his allure mostly to charm his way out of trouble or to cadge favors from his parents or servants. Luis José’s gift for