FELIPE'S PAY
by Kathryn. D. Green
Felipe Cortez balanced himself on the second rail of the fence surrounding the corral. A soft breeze caressed his cheek and played with his brown hair. As he watched the horses ambling about in the corral, the foal, named Crema for its cream-colored fur the day before, wobbled toward him and stretched out his neck.
Crema's mother, Princesa, had died giving birth to the foal during Don Rafael's recent visit; Felipe had been there with Don Alejandro and Don Rafael when it happened. Don Alejandro had promised to give Crema to Rafael when the colt was four or five years old. Biting his lower lip at the memory, the seven-year-old servant boy reached out his hand and rubbed the colt’s thick mane. He hated the idea that someday, Crema would have to leave! Or that he was going to be separated from the colt for possibly days and days, starting the next day.
I love you, Crema, he thought. I love you lots! I wish I didn't have to leave you tomorrow. Felipe knew that the caballeros he worked for intended to take him to see a doctor in San Diego, in the hope that the doctor would be able to restore his hearing.
A moment later, a hand touched his shoulder; the startled boy nearly lost his balance. In that instant, two strong hands grasped his waist and set him on the ground.
Felipe turned around to find his elderly patrón, Don Alejandro de la Vega, standing in front of him, laughing. The young deaf-mute could not hear the laughter, but he saw the broad smile and the laughter in the aged don's eyes. "You certainly love that colt, don't you?" Don Alejandro finally asked. Felipe nodded, smiling.
Don Alejandro put his arm around Felipe's shoulder. "Come with me, amigo. Diego and I have something for you." Curiosity flooded Felipe's heart as he followed his patrón into the house. What could the de la Vegas have for him?
In the luxurious drawing room, Don Alejandro perched on a blue silk-brocade couch and handed Felipe a gold coin. "That's part of your pay, Felipe," he explained; Don Diego, who sat on the couch next to his father, nodded agreement. "This is your first payment as our houseboy,” Don Alejandro went on. “I will pay you once a month. That is a peso, Felipe. It's not all you're earning, but it's all I'm giving you to spend."
Felipe gazed at both men, a questioning look on his face.
Don Diego bent forward and touched the little boy's arm. "Felipe, my father is paying you 30 pesos a month, but you are too young, at present, to receive it all. Therefore, my father and I have opened an account for you at the bank. Twenty-nine pesos have already been deposited there, in your name, and there will be many more to follow."
Don Alejandro nodded. "As you grow older, Felipe, the amount of your pay that I give you personally will gradually increase. We want you to learn how to handle money, my boy, and this will be an excellent way to teach you. Therefore, we will give you lessons in learning how to plan your spending. That peso is yours to spend as you choose, Felipe, but the next one will be divided into smaller coins. Diego and I will expect you to save a portion of it, and to give another portion to the church. The rest will be yours to spend as you please." He paused. "You'll receive your next pay at the end of December, which is next month. Normally, I would have waited till the end of this month, but we may not be here when that day comes."
Diego nodded. Felipe gazed down at the shining gold coin in his hand for a long moment. A tap on his shoulder roused the little boy’s attention, and he looked up; Diego nodded to his left. To his amazement, a pink ceramic figure of a pig sat on the polished coffee table next to him.
"That is a small bank, Felipe," Don Diego explained. "As you can see, it's got a slot in its back to insert coins into. It's called a piggy bank, amigo, and it's yours. It will be a good place to put your new peso, will it not?" He smiled as he spoke.
Felipe grinned, then dropped the peso into the slot. An unpleasant thought occurred to him, and he whirled toward Don Diego to ask a question.
"How will you take it out?" Felipe nodded; Diego smiled reassuringly. "Turn the piggy bank upside down, my friend, and you'll find a small lever that will allow you to remove the peso when you need it."
Felipe did as he was told. As he lifted the piggy bank up with both hands, its surface felt smooth and cool to his fingers. A wooden circle with a tiny, narrow handle faced upward when he turned the little bank on its bank; he glanced up at his patróns. "Turn that little handle, Felipe," Don Alejandro, demonstrating as he spoke.
Nodding, Felipe did as he was told; the lever came loose. He stuck his finger inside until it rested on the coin's cold, bumpy surface. He turned the bank back over, and the peso fell onto the table.
Felipe replaced the lever and dropped the peso back into the slot. With his eyes and his smile, he thanked Don Alejandro and Don Diego.
Chuckling, Diego rubbed his hair. "Our pleasure, amigo." He hugged Felipe, then pinched his cheek. "We want you to have a safe place to keep your money so you won't lose it. Since you're sleeping in the Gomez hut at present, you'd better keep the piggy bank in the library, where it'll be safe. That way, if you decide to spend the peso when we go to town, you'll be able to get to it quickly." Felipe nodded acquiescence.
Don Alejandro glanced down at his timepiece. "Well, Diego, if we're going to take Felipe to see the doctor in San Diego tomorrow, we'd better get ready today. We may be seeing every doctor in California before we return, so we'd better have our provisions well-stocked."
"You're right, Father." Don Diego rose to his feet as he spoke. "I hope we can find one who can cure Felipe's deafness. If we can, maybe Felipe will learn to speak as well." He hugged Felipe to his side. "Don't worry; Crema will be well taken care of by our vaqueros, while we're gone." Felipe smiled wanly. He had no desire to leave Crema, not even for a few days.
Diego removed a small notepad from his inside jacket pocket and scribbled a note to Felipe. "Take this to the kitchen, amigo, and give it to Maria. She'll give it to our butler."
Nodding, Felipe gripped it in his hand and hurried toward the kitchen. Silently, he hoped with all his heart that the doctor would indeed be able to restore his hearing and his speech, and that his separation from the new colt would be brief.
THE END
© 2001, by Kathy Green