Free Arcadio by William Goyen Page A

that is why, of course; yet you never knew our mother, how can that be? From Hondo in the Missoura jail, Tomasso told me, taught me some Mescan words because he saw the brownness in me and guessed that I had some Mescan, which he is familiar with because he was borned in Arroyo Hondo in New Mexico. My mother run away from me and left me with Mr. and Mrs. Sam Policheck, the Bohunk jailer and his wife in a Missoura town. What is the name of it? I said, and Tomasso said I do not know the name of the town. I was only in jail in it and when I excaped I slid through a hole into the night and run. Thank God and Jesucristo , I said. When I found that my mother had run away, the light-colored boy said, I run away too. Wouldn’t you? Sí , I said. Yes, very much. What is a Bohunk? I asked, and he said he did not know but that Hondo said that about Mr. Sam Policheck. And who is Hondo? I asked him and he said my wonderful friend that I will soon tell you about. But come with me, I said, for I have news of your mother. Who I never saw, said Tomasso. Nor my father neither, added Tomasso. Him I have no direct news of, I said. But your mother, yes. Except to say that your father is dead, killed by the police long ago. Tomasso cried. Perdóname for such sad noticias , I said, but this is according to our mother Chupa’s story. Chupa? Tomasso asked me. Her name, the name of your mother. Tomasso cried. How many times have I imagined my mother, cried Tomasso. She is beautiful, I told him. How old are you? Twelve, he said. Well, your mother is una loca , you cannot count on her. But she has la anima which means life; and has el amor which means love and tries to give them out to somebody but has brought her many troubles. And so she runs. I can tell this to you but I cannot too much understand it myself. It is strange how we can do this, tell somebody else what we cannot understand ourselves, verdad? Verdad , answered Tomasso. You know that word, too, I said. Si , said Tomasso, from Hondo; but what is your name, you have not told me. Arcadio, I told him. It is a beautiful name, said Tomasso; as beautiful almost as Hondo. Anyway, I said, I have been looking for our mother and for you. Now you will come with me to look for her. Together we will find her and she will be glad to find us both—for a little while, I guess.
    Tomasso come away from Deliverance Church with me that night leaving Deliverance Choir one hundred por ciento black. He was so glad to have him a half blood brother, he had been very lonesome though the black people were very kind to him and his only family until I come. Arcadio! Arcadio! he cried and embraced me and laid his head on my shoulder. Arcadio! my half brother! Tomasso! Tomasso! I cried, holding him, my little half blood brother, my jailboy, choirboy I love you!
    We went on together. I read him from the White Bible and told him the stories, I nursed and watched after him the jailboy Tomasso, my mother’s son, I was mother and father to him. God, after waiting awhile, brought the jailboy’s parents to him in me, the Biblia showed me this, says mine own will come to me, La Biblia Blanca showed me about life, La Biblia give me words and give me understanding. I run in the jailyard, Tomasso said. I played with the convicts, the trusties. What’s the trusties, I said, Tomassito? The ones you could trust, said he, my friends Hondo and Old John. They helped me to excape, they cried as they helped me, to see me go. I crawled under a fence through a hole they dug by a Rose a Sharon. What is a Rose a Sharon? I says. A beautiful tree of blooms, answered Tomasso. I run all night panting and ascared. As if I was a convict! And I run all day, day after day. Until I got to Deliverance Church and they took me in. Here is a curl of black hair Hondo give me to keep, tis from the head of Sweet Janine. This is what Tomasso told me, you wan hear. Said Hondo killed his sweetheart Sweet Janine of sixteen because he