RAINY DAY
by Kathryn. D. Green
I want to play outside! Felipe Cortez thought fretfully. There's nothing to do in the house! I hate this rain!
The servant boy pressed his nose against the cold windowpane, as he knelt on the silk-brocade sofa. The mattress sagged underneath his folded legs. He glared at the sheet of rain drumming the library window and the heavy gray clouds hanging overhead. Felipe felt bored and restless. With all his heart, he wished that it would quit raining so he could play outdoors. The rain had been pouring down since morning.
It's so dark outside, he thought. So wet! I want to play with the new foal! He thrust out his lower lip in a pout as he thought about the late Princesa's orphaned foal, born a few days ago, during Don Rafael's visit.
Sighing, the seven-year-old boy slid off the couch and wandered across the library. Glancing down at the chessboard, he picked up an ivory chess piece and gazed at it. To his right, a fire blazed in the fireplace. He wished he could go to the breeding barn and play with the calves.
Felipe had never learned to amuse himself indoors when it rained, even though it rained a lot in San Miguel de Bajio. At his parents' tenant farm, if he couldn't play outside, he'd either do some indoor chore, sit in the corner, or throw on his straw sombrero and wool poncho to run to the barn and play with the goats. Here, sitting on the floor was frowned upon--it was a good way to get stepped on, or trip a passing servant. And the de la Vegas wouldn't let him go to the barns or stables in the rain.
Don Diego strolled into the room. Replacing the chess piece, Felipe gazed up at his patrón without smiling.
"You want to play outside, don't you?" Smiling kindly, Diego patted the little boy's soft cheek. Felipe nodded, glancing down briefly at his white, unbleached cotton shirt. Don Diego had donned a bright-blue charro jacket, a pair of matching trousers, and--as usual--a ruffled linen shirt.
The caballero glanced out the window. "I know." He sighed. "It's been raining most of the day, and it shows no sign of letting up soon." He squeezed the boy's shoulder. "It's hard for you to stay inside, isn't it? You don't know how to occupy yourself when you're cooped indoors." Felipe nodded.
"Moreover, this rain's keeping you from spending time with the new foal. I know you've been yearning to do so."
Felipe pursed his lips in response. Don Diego knew him well.
Diego knelt before him. "I'll tell you what. I'm feeling kind of bored myself, so we'll just amuse each other, all right? The time will pass more quickly if we think of other things."
Felipe cocked his head with a questioning look on his face.
Diego put a finger to his chin. "Hmm. Well, suppose I tell you a story?" He glanced across the foyer at the blue silk-brocade couch in the drawing room.
Felipe smiled and nodded. He loved to be told stories, and both de la Vegas were great storytellers. I like Don Diego, the little boy thought. He never gets mad. He's so nice!
The tall caballero led the servant boy into the drawing room. As soon as Diego reclined on the sofa, Felipe climbed into his lap. As he nestled against his master, Don Diego wrapped his arms around the boy. The now-familiar clean, spicy smell emanating from the don's clothes wafted toward Felipe's nose. It smelled good.
"What kind of story would you like me to tell?" Don Diego smiled. Felipe tapped the don's ruffled, snow-white linen shirt, then held out his hand below his own chest. "You want me to tell you a story about my own boyhood?" Felipe nodded.
"All right." Diego leaned against the back of the couch. "Let's see..." He paused. "I know! I'll tell you about the time I got lost when I was just a little older than you."
Felipe fastened his gaze on Don Diego's lips, so as to not miss one word. Being deaf, he had to watch people's lips if he wanted to know what they said.
Don Diego paused again. "It happened one day when I was out riding my pony. My Shetland pony," he said. "I had been to the hacienda of a friend of mine, and we had spent the afternoon playing. Suddenly, a snake spooked my pony, causing him to rear and make me fall. Fortunately, I only scraped my knee."
Pausing, he removed a fine linen handkerchief from his bright blue charro jacket's inside pocket. As Felipe watched, Don Diego blew his nose. The tall caballero folded the soft handkerchief and inserted it back into his inside jacket pocket.
"Let's see, now, where was I? Oh yes. Before I could react, my pony was racing over the hill. I called him and called him, ordering him to stop, but he didn't listen. Within seconds, he had disappeared from sight."
Felipe didn't move a muscle. Don Diego gazed at the stately marble statue across the room, thinking.
"At that time, I didn't know my way around the countryside as well as I do now. My parents had just started letting me ride to other haciendas alone, and then only to nearby ones. I knew I had to get home quickly because once the sun set, I'd be lost." He frowned. "Trouble was, the sun had turned bright-orange and was just a foot above the western horizon."
Felipe shivered. Memories of the three horrible days when he had wandered lost in the Mexican desert, after the death of his parents, filled his mind. Don Diego hugged him for a long moment, sadness filling his expressive blue eyes. Felipe realized the patrón knew what he was thinking.
"I don't need to tell you what it's like to be lost, do I?" Diego brushed the boy's hair out of his brown eyes. "You still remember your own ordeal, I know." Felipe nodded. "Well, the good Lord brought us together, and now you have a home with us. And rest assured that if you were to get lost again, my father and the vaqueros and I would not rest until we found you." Felipe smiled wanly.
Diego kissed the boy's forehead. "All right, now, where was I? Oh, yes. As I raced in the direction of our hacienda, the sun set. The stars came out, one by one. By then, I no longer knew where I was going. I could have been going in circles, for all I knew. I was badly frightened. I wanted my mother; I wanted my niñera; I wanted my warm bed. Instead, I was wandering alone in a dark desert, with wild animals everywhere." Felipe shivered.
"At last, I sat down and cried. I was too exhausted to go any further. I prayed and prayed that someone would find me. Minutes later, a coyote howled. Coyotes don't hurt you, Felipe, but to a little boy lost on the desert, it was a terrifying sound."
Felipe shuddered. He signed a question.
"I decided to stay put. I was too tired to walk any further, and I knew that if I stayed in one place, my father would have an easier time finding me. So I sat still, and I waited, and I prayed, and I hugged my chest. By then, it had turned cold, you see. Goosebumps were forming all over my arms and legs."
Felipe winced. How awful! he thought.
"After a long wait--how long, I don't know; I didn't have a timepiece back then, but it felt like hours--I heard a shout. I jumped to my feet and listened carefully. A minute later, I heard another one. It was my father!
"I shouted back as loudly as I could. As soon as I stopped, my father shouted back to me. 'Stay still, Diego!' he yelled. 'I hear you. Hold on, son, and keep shouting!'
"I did as I was told. Minutes later, I heard the clomping of hoofbeats. Suddenly, several riders appeared on the ridge just above me. My father and three of his vaqueros had come.
"My father leaped off his horse and raced toward me. He just hugged me tightly for a long moment. I had never been so happy to see anyone as I was to see him!
"A moment later, my father swung me on his horse and mounted her behind me. As soon as I got home, my mother was hugging me, too, and my niñera was preparing my bath. Needless to say, I was so happy to be home!"
Felipe grinned. He didn't doubt that for a minute.
For the next several moments, the little boy rested his head against Don Diego's shoulder, thinking about his patrón's ordeal. I'm glad I'm not lost, he thought. It'd be awful to be lost out there in that rain! He shivered at the thought.
Don Diego patted his back, then removed his shiny gold timepiece from the top of his trousers to look at the time. Felipe rubbed his fingers on the smooth glass face protecting the watch hands before Diego inserted it back into his trousers. Even though Felipe couldn't tell time or even read the numbers, he liked to gaze at the patróns' timepieces.
A moment later, fidgeting restlessly, the little boy craned his neck to gaze out the window. To his dismay, the rain had not abated one bit. If anything, it was coming down harder now. He couldn't see anything past that solid sheet of rain.
Felipe bit his lower lip in vexation. Would it ever quit raining?!
Don Diego cupped his hand under Felipe's chin. "You know, Felipe, we need something to keep us busy." He glanced toward the dining room. "I know! Let's go to my suite of rooms." Felipe furrowed his eyebrows, a questioning look on his face. "I have a checkerboard in my sitting room, a gift from my father when I was a boy. I'll teach you how to play checkers, how's that?" Smiling broadly, Felipe slid off his patrón's lap.
In Don Diego's sitting room, the caballero set the red-and-black checkerboard on a polished mahogany coffee table that stood across the room from Diego's mahogany desk. Felipe had seen it before, but until now, he had never played the game. He stared at the board, intrigued.
Felipe's late parents had been poor peons. They had not been able to afford such luxuries as books, board games, etc. Even now, almost three weeks after starting his job as a houseboy, the sight of these items fascinated the little peasant boy, as the checkerboard did now.
Don Diego pointed at a polished mahogany chair facing the coffee table, and Felipe perched on it. It had no mattress, so its seat felt hard and unyielding, yet smooth. Diego sat down in a matching chair on the other side.
"All right, Felipe." He set the ivory checker pieces on the black squares as the deaf servant boy watched. "Since this is the first time you've ever played this game, I'll be black. The black pieces are always played first, at the beginning of a game."
Pressing his fingertips against the smooth, polished armrests, Felipe fastened his gaze on the checkerboard for a long moment. The red and black squares alternated, row by row. The red pieces rested in three rows on the black squares, as did the black pieces on the other side.
Don Diego picked up a checker piece in the front row of his set, and moved it diagonally forward, to another black square. "You always move the pieces diagonally," he explained. "You always move them forward onto another black square." Felipe nodded.
Don Diego leaned back in his chair. "Now you move one."
Felipe picked up a red piece in the front row and moved it forward, to another black square.
"Well done!" Don Diego smiled. Leaning forward, he picked up another black piece and moved it diagonally. To Felipe's astonishment, the patrón moved the piece right over Felipe's red one, then removed the red piece and laid it on the table.
"When you do what I just did, it's called 'jumping your opponent's piece,'" Diego explained. "The object of the game is to remove all your opponent's pieces before he removes yours. You do that by jumping them." Don Diego chuckled at the look on the little boy's face. "If you do, you win the game. All right, amigo. Now, it's your turn."
Leaning forward, Felipe gazed at the board for a long moment. A sly smile spread across his elfin face. He picked up one of the red pieces and jumped a black one. As Diego watched, the boy dropped the black piece on the coffee table.
"Well, well! You've jumped one of my pieces." Diego chuckled. "You're just too smart for me, amigo."
Felipe grinned. This is fun! he thought.
The game went on. More and more pieces from both sides ended up on the coffee table. Once, Don Diego set a black piece on the back row, where Felipe's first row had rested.
"All right, Felipe." Diego handed the boy a black piece. "Now you must crown my piece. Set this other piece on top of it." Felipe did as he was told. "Now that my checker piece has become king, I can move it backwards and forwards. The other pieces can still only move forwards." He moved the king in both directions to demonstrate.
Minutes later, Felipe's pieces all lay in piles on the coffee table, while three of Diego's still stood on the checkerboard. Don Diego had won the game.
"You're a quick learner, Felipe." Don Diego rose to his feet, reached over the table, and patted the boy's shoulder. "Did you like the game?" Felipe smiled and nodded.
"Then we'll play it again tomorrow."
Felipe slid off the chair and trotted toward Diego, who sat back down and held out his arms. Felipe crawled into his lap. For a long moment, the little boy nestled against Don Diego's chest.
A few seconds later, Felipe gazed across the room at the painting that hung over Don Diego's desk. He had never paid any attention to it before, but now, he noticed the little boy standing next to the silk-brocade armchair in the drawing room. The boy wore the velvet suit Felipe had seen other children of caballeros wear--a purple velvet shirt with what he now knew was a silk Vandyke collar, a matching pair of breeches that came down to the little boy's knees, and a silken sash wrapped around his waist. He wore a pair of white finely-woven socks that stretched over his ankles and up toward his knees. Two coal-black shoes with silver buckles adorned his feet. A cherubic smile spread across his face.
The little boy held a stuffed bear in the crook of his left hand; his right hand rested on his mother's arm. Felipe gazed at it intently, then froze. It was the same stuffed bear Don Diego had given him!
Felipe stared into Don Diego's eyes; the caballero chuckled. "That was me, Felipe," he explained. "I was just seven years old--the same age you are now--when that portrait was painted. And yes, that was my stuffed bear, the same one I gave you just a few weeks ago. My father hired a visiting painter to paint the portrait of the three of us--my father, my mother, and himself. It's called an oil painting--he painted the portrait with oil paints."
He nodded toward the painting. "Take a good look at that painting, and see how much younger my father looks than he does now. I was born in 1793. That portrait was painted in 1800; it's 1815 now."
Felipe shifted his gaze back toward the painting. Sure enough, Don Alejandro's hair, combed neatly back, was dark brown, not grayish-white, and no wrinkles lined his kind, pleasant face. He leaned against his wife's armchair, with his hand resting on her upper back; the silk-brocade couch stood on the other side of him. A pencil-thin mustache spread across the cleft above his upper lip.
He wore a fine linen shirt identical to the ones he and Don Diego now wore, with the same collar and the same ruffles on the sleeves and down the front. A snow-white silk cravat had been wrapped around the don's collar. Don Alejandro had on a blue silk vest, a dark-blue frock coat, and a matching pair of trousers. A gold-colored watch chain stretched from one vest pocket to the other. Fine, dark-brown leather boots covered his feet and the lower portion of his trouser legs.
Doña Elena Felicidad sat between her husband and her son, the two of whom framed her armchair. She wore a shimmering pale-pink gown with a silk lace collar. A diamond necklace adorned her neck. Felipe recognized the necklace; Don Alejandro had shown it to him the day before.
Doña Elena sat straight-back in the chair, with her right hand resting in her lap, and her left hand on the left arm of the chair. Her feet lay hidden beneath the folds of her dress; Felipe couldn't see them. Her dark-brown hair had been piled on top of her head. A warm glow of contentment radiated from her eyes.
Felipe looked at Don Diego, who smiled. "My parents were the best a boy could have," the caballero said. "I loved them both dearly. They were always there when I needed them. Their marriage was truly happy." Sadness creased his eyebrows. "It was a terrible day when my mother died. Terrible for my father and for me."
Felipe bit his lower lip. He was sure it had been.
Don Diego glanced at the painting, then back at Felipe. "You may wonder about the outfit I was wearing. You've seen other caballeros' sons wearing similar clothes." Felipe nodded. "It's the custom in Europe, and in the colonies, for the sons of the upper class to wear such outfits, just as it's the custom for poor people here to wear ponchos and serapes. When I was older, I graduated to the kinds of clothes that grown-up caballeros wear."
Felipe nodded. The explanation made sense.
Don Diego glanced at the window. It looked pitch-black outside. "Well, my friend, the rain has finally stopped, but it's too late to go see the foal, I'm afraid. But after my lessons tomorrow, we will. I promise." He glanced at his gold timepiece. "Meanwhile, it's dinnertime, amigo."
Don Diego led the servant boy toward the kitchen and left him there, to eat his supper with the other servants. As the caballero joined his father in the dining room, he squared his shoulders and laughed.
"What's so funny, my son?" Don Alejandro gazed at Diego, puzzled.
"Only that I never expected to become a father when I'm not even married yet." Don Diego smiled.
Chuckling, the aged don patted his son on the shoulder. "Diego, if your handling of Felipe is any indication, you're going to be a great father someday." Diego smiled his thanks. "In the meantime, caring for the boy will give you excellent practice in being a parent." Nodding agreement, Don Diego took his seat at the dining table, covered with a glistening snow-white tablecloth and laden with gold, silver, and gleaming china.
THE END