was cold and she was getting numb. Soon she
wouldn’t be able to make her legs move and the water was getting steadily
higher. She thought about what she had to do.
If she didn’t get back across, the water would
soon press her against the roof of the cave and she’d drown. Taking a deep
breath, she pushed off with all her might. She felt herself being sucked
downward, down as if the river was running into a giant drain. She wondered if
she would soon be dead, would she join Juana. They’d be together, but perhaps
not. She was a pagan and Juana was not. Maybe she wouldn’t go where Juana was
and then she’d be alone again.
Maria was becoming lightheaded and she wasn’t
certain where to swim. She was fading. Finally, looking up, she saw a light and
could see Juana standing in a little doorway at the foot of the steps. She was
reaching for Maria.
Maria found the bottom and pushed off, using
the last bit of energy she had. Finally, she was there, on the other side and
could pull herself out of the water. She was safe and Juana was gone.
She made a fire and warmed up as she considered
her situation. Now she had no money. She had plenty of food and the burros, but
no fortune. She couldn’t wait it out until she was old enough to find a man and
settle down like the nice lady by the sea told her to do. She was back to
square one and she thought she might just have to stay in the cave
indefinitely. At least she was out of the elements and could survive. She had
enough to keep herself alive.
She thought about all this until she fell
asleep and Juana woke her again.
“Well, you’ve done it now.” Juana was eating.
“I know.”
“You should have left before the rains. I told
you that.”
“I’m sorry.”
Juana smiled, like a parent scolding a child.
“Oh well. At least you’re alive.”
Maria sat and wondered what to do. Juana
continued. “You still need to go to the whores. You’ve got the burros and your
lamps and blankets and things. You can sell all that and live. You can find
work with the whores. You don’t need to be one. You can do the washing and
you’re a pretty good cook.”
Juana continued to give her advice but Maria
didn’t hear her. She was too tired and drifted off to sleep.
After a while the rains finally stopped. During
this time Maria did a lot of thinking. She still wouldn’t go to the whores. She
didn’t like the brothel and there was something about the mean man calling her
a whore’s spawn, something so hateful in his voice that she resolved not to be
with them. She didn’t want to be a whore and, despite Juana’s declarations that
this would not happen, she was sure it would be only a matter of time. She
knew, already, at a young age, that she was remarkably beautiful and she’d grow
into a beautiful woman and the whores and the whores’ customers wouldn’t leave
her alone. She was certain of this, knew it in her heart and she would not take
such a path. She would never, no matter how bad things got, become a whore.
She thought a lot about the pretty assistant by
the sea. The sea was the most beautiful place she’d ever seen, even more
beautiful than the desert at sunset and she thought that, even if the fence
wouldn’t let her live there, she’d have enough money to live somewhere by the
sea. Maybe she’d find a cave there, like the one she had now and she’d live in
the cave and she could find things by the sea to eat and sell. She could make
baskets and the pretty assistant would buy them from her to sell in the fence’s
shop.
Suddenly she had a great deal of energy and she
resolved that she would do this thing. She would travel back to the fence’s
shop and sell all that she had back to him and the pretty assistant and she’d
live next to them, nearby so that the man would not be cross with her or feel
like she was a burden to him, but she’d be near the pretty assistant and they’d
be friends.
She thought hard about this and decided that
she’d not