CHAPTER 10: "'We Got to Get Away from Here!'"
Felipe scrambled to his feet and gaped at his mother. "Are--are we gonna die?!" His voice shook.
Consuela hugged him. "Not if your papá and I can help it. Now get dressed and roll up your mat, son; we got to hurry!"
Felipe did as he was told. With fumbling fingers, he pulled on his white cotton trousers, the blue shirt that was lined with narrow vertical black lines, and his sandals. As he tied his sash around his waist, Juan entered the stall to help his family pack everything. He had donned a white cotton shirt, a pair of brown trousers, his wool sash, his faded gray vest, his brown jacket, and his gray felt sombrero, Felipe noticed. A grim expression etched Juan's careworn face.
When they had wrapped all their possessions in two huge bundles, Juan looked sternly at Consuela, then at Felipe. "You two come out here and wait. I got to watch for the soldiers. I'll tell you when to put our things in the cart."
Nodding, Consuela hung her wooden rosary around her neck. Felipe followed her as she entered the main room, where all the other peons had congregated. Consuela knelt on a pile of hay. Felipe plopped next to her on the wide mound of hay, and she put an arm around his shoulders. The sweet-smelling hay sagged and crinkled beneath their weight; the sweaty smell of his mother's clothes wafted toward the boy's nostrils. He glanced at the tanned legs sticking out from underneath Consuela's green skirt, then inserted his index finger into his mouth.
Minutes passed. Consuela crouched on her knees against the cold stone wall of the huge barn. Feeling restless, Felipe rose to his feet, but stayed close to his mother. The hay crackled underneath as Consuela shifted position. From time to time, she fingered the dark-brown wooden rosary dangling from her neck.
The other peasants surrounded Consuela and Felipe. Some sat on the bare ground or on piles of hay, Indian-style, with their legs crossed. Some paced the barn. Some stood leaning against the walls, and still others knelt on the lumps of hay, as Consuela did, and prayed.
Juan had left his sombrero in the stall and returned to the entrance to stand guard. He stood in the doorway now, bare-headed, waiting for the coming government soldiers. He turned around to face his wife and son. "They're comin' closer." He took a deep breath. "They'll be here, soon. When they do--" He paused. "They'll kill us all. Everyone in this barn, everyone in town, unless we can get away. I heard it from a rebel soldier, yesterday."
"Because of the peons who joined?" Consuela fingered her rosary dangling from her neck. Juan nodded, with a grim expression on his face.
Felipe shivered and approached his mother. She extended her arms, and the child crawled into her lap, whimpering. "Mommy, I'm scared." Felipe nestled against her bosom as she clasped him tightly.
"I know, son. We all are." Consuela paused. "We're in God's hands, Felipe. We can only trust Him." Felipe nodded.
For a time, she rocked him and hummed. The distant cannonblasts gradually became louder.
Suddenly, Consuela let go of Felipe. As he watched her, she removed the rosary from around her neck. "We will pray, once more," she told her son.
"Si, Mommy."
For a time, Felipe and his mother prayed for safety, counting each decade on the rosary as they always did. When they had finished, Juan approached them. "We must put everythin' in the cart soon, Consuela. It's almost time."
Consuela nodded and rose to her feet. She took Felipe outside and toward the public outhouses, so he could relieve himself. Then they went to the plaza fountain to get a drink of water. Her dull-green skirt swished as she led her son toward the plaza. When they arrived, a long line of other peons stood in line, waiting for their turns, so Felipe and his mother had to wait, as well. When Felipe had quenched his thirst, Consuela took a swallow. She then led her son back to the barn, where Juan still stood in the doorway, waiting.
Felipe squatted on the hay in the rear of the barn, and Consuela paused. As the little boy gazed up at her, she removed her rosary from around her neck and held it out to her son.
"Take care of my rosary, Felipe." Her voice shook; she took a deep breath. "It's yours, now." She bent over to hand him the rosary; as Felipe rose to a kneeling position to take it, the hay underneath him crackled. His father, who still stood in the doorway of the barn, paid no attention to his wife or his son. He was too busy watching for the soldiers, as he had done every day since the siege had started, two weeks before.
Consuela knelt to look her son full in the face. "Mi madre gave it to me when she died, and her mother gave it to her. Now, I'm givin' it to you. Pray with it every day, just like I taught you. When you die, give it to your own child."
Mother and son paused to listen to the gunshots and explosions. Consuela patted his cheek with a rough, workworn hand. "It belongs to you now, son, so take good care of it. Whatever happens, go to church and be a good boy. Promise?"
Felipe's voice trembled. "I--I promise, Mommy." Why was his mother talking like that? Surely, the government soldiers wouldn't kill her! He wouldn't let them! He'd cover her with his own body if he had to, just as he had when that crowd had nearly run her down.
The next cannonball explosion sounded louder. The government soldiers were getting closer. Felipe shivered.
His mother sat down on the pile of hay and hugged Felipe tightly. The hay crackled underneath her. "Just remember, son; God loves you, and He will take care of you. Remember that!"
"Y--yes, Mommy." Felipe nestled against her bosom again. The familiar sweaty smell of her clothes--of "hard work," as both his parents called it--and the feel of her arms around his back comforted Felipe.
Consuela rocked the little boy and crooned to him as he tried to ignore the increasingly louder noises of battle. The other peasants surrounding Felipe and his mother alternately sat silently and prayed.
Half an hour later, the battle exploded in the village plaza, with earsplitting cannonblasts and musket shots. Felipe and his parents lugged the two bundles toward the pushcart. Juan lifted each one up and, with a grunt, dropped it in the cart.
Consuela hastily draped her shoulders with her yellow woolen shawl, and Juan put on his gray felt sombrero. "Mommy, where's mi sombrero?" Felipe asked. "My poncho? Mi serape?"
"They're packed, hijo. There's no time to look for them, now." Consuela patted his shoulder.
Juan then lifted Felipe and set him inside the pushcart. "Hold tight!" he ordered the little boy. "Don't move!" Felipe nodded his acquiescence.
The little boy trembled as his parents slowly pushed the cart out of the barn. The pushcart's two sides consisted of rows of vertical wooden bars. He clutched the side till his knuckles turned white. He could feel the smooth rosary beads pressing against the side of his hip, where they nestled inside the top of his white cotton trousers.
"Push!" Juan ordered his wife. "We got to get away from here!"
As the peons rushed out of the pueblo, past the bastion, government soldiers and revolutionary soldiers surrounded them, fighting. Rifle shots and musket shots, earsplitting cannonblasts, battle shouts, and terrified screams echoed in Felipe's ears. Thick clouds of dust from the cannonblasts blocked his vision and choked him. He coughed and coughed, trying to clear his windpipe.
When he could finally breathe, Felipe clutched the side of the cart and stared ahead. Please, God, protect us! he prayed silently.
The ground shook; a cannonball had just landed not too far from Felipe. As he squatted in the pushcart, his parents pushed and shoved it with all their might, in their frantic efforts to get their son and themselves to safety. More thick clouds of dust from the cannonblasts blocked Felipe's vision of the surrounding countryside and choked him; again, he coughed the dust out of his throat. While the little boy clutched the bars of the side and stared ahead, the incessant cannonblasts, rifle and musket shots, and terrified screams went on and on.
Felipe gulped down a convulsive sob. He just knew they were all going to die! For a long moment, he shook violently and uncontrollably. By degrees, he managed to stop trembling.
Suddenly, the pushcart halted. Try as Juan and Consuela did, they could not move it any further. The other peasants rushed on ahead as Consuela darted past Felipe toward the front end of the cart. "Consuela, you pull on that end!" Juan ordered. "I'll push it from behind! We got to get this cart loose!"
As Felipe watched his parents and gripped the round wooden bars that comprised the right side of the cart, Juan pushed and Consuela pulled, but the cart refused to budge. With a loud grunt, Juan gripped the handles so hard that his knuckles turned white, and he threw his whole body against the back end of the cart. Clutching the front end, Consuela heaved and strained.
"Mommy!" Felipe cried, just before the pushcart began to move once more.
Consuela rushed back to the handles. While her husband pushed them, she gripped the cart's corner and shoved. The violent jolt that resulted nearly knocked Felipe onto his side; clutching the bars, he managed to regain his balance.
Suddenly, a particularly loud, earsplitting cannonblast exploded in Felipe's ears. It jolted the ground violently.
Felipe soared through the air and landed on his head. The terrified boy screamed as he fell; excruciating pain exploded inside his head when he landed on the ground. Pitch-blackness descended. Felipe knew nothing.
END OF CHAPTER 10