Subject: Book 3 Chapter 12 Part 2
Author: María Elvira (205.188.199.54)
Date: 11-28-1999 04:40
CORAZON SALVAJE
BOOK 3 – JUAN DEL DIABLO CHAPTER XII –2ND PART
--Juan, te has levantado?
--Sólo un rato, y creo que ya era tiempo…Cuidé demasiado mi herida,
Mónica…
Slowly, with a pace totally different from usual, he approaches
Mónica, who surprised, had come towards him. His arm is extending
looking for support…his face is pale, less tanned, showing a severe
nobility. His left arm is wrapped in the silk shawl he is using as a
sling, and the bandages are showing underneath his white shirt…
--Are you crazy? I thought you were going to stay in the sun for a
while, and…
--These people need my help, Mónica. They are suffering…they told me
about your visits, your presents…
--I didn’t think it was right for me, to keep all the supplies
especially since these people are hurting…
--In one day, they ate what would have lasted you a week…
--Who cares? I can eat fish like everyone else…
--I know that you always have reasons for your generosity…I also
know that you cured some of the wounded...Martin’s brother, was
almost dying and now is almost without a fever…
--He only has an infected wound…They had wrapped his wound with
dirty linen…I thought it would be useful to teach the women from the
village about boiling water, and clean bandages…
--You’ve done a lot for them. Your name is in everyone’s lips, with
their blessings…
--I owe them. Don’t you realize that it’s because of me that their
situation is worse? When Renato came looking for me, it provoked the
sad incident that caused their wounds. I feel indirectly
responsible…
--Yes…and directly responsible for…?
--You, Juan, you…and because of me…
--Why don’t you say your gentleman Renato? –exclaims Juan with
anger.
--Him also…even though his intention wasn’t bad. If it were not
because of your bad temper…What reason did you have to get so angry
as to forget your situation? Pride? No, bad temper…
--I know that you also had been preaching to the fishermen, about
meekness and love for their fellow man. But, who is their fellow
man? Those miserable soldiers, that became their executioners
defending the usurer’s coffers? Well deserved, blowing them to
pieces!
--Did you approve of their plan? Was it your idea?
--You know very well it was not…But not because of what you think…It
would have given the governor a pretext to get rid of all of us…to
blow el Peñon del Diablo to pieces, the village, the beach…
--Could he do something like that?
--Of course he can. Sometime I ask myself why hasn’t he done it
yet?… Maybe your gentleman D’Autremont is interceding because you
are here…Really, haven’t you heard from him? Haven’t you received a
letter or note from him?
--Why do you think I am lying, Juan?
Juan had come closer to Mónica and taken her arm…For an instant, his
strong fingers squeeze her arm in a rough caress, then, his hand
drops, disheartened, while he steps back…
--Mónica, es preciso que tú salgas de esta trampa…
--Porqué yo? Qué pasa?
--Nothing, he says, trying to calm her. He hears noises, getting
closer…-Go back to the cabin.
--Why do I have to? What’s happening? I am going to…
--No, Mónica, don’t go…
Mónica goes running to the edge of the precipice…Everyone from the
village is down there, where the streams from the mountain come
down…but there is no water coming down but thick mud, with a strong
sulfurous smell, rolling down slowly, leaving behind dead fish,
volcanic rocks…Mónica turns to Juan:
--What is happening?
--Don’t you see…those streams are our only source of fresh
water…look at the sea, look at the beach…
Both have gone together to the edge… trembling, Mónica looks down,
while Juan anxiously holds her back with his uninjured hand:
--Ten cuidado! Puedes resbalar…
--But the beach is full of fish…some are jumping, some are…
--Some are dying, some are dead already. Don’t you see? They are
poisoned. That mud that the streams are dragging and that probably
other rivers are…
--Poisoned? Have they poisoned the streams? But, who?
--That, Mónica…The volcano…The old volcano that has awaken to spill
his damnation over Cabo del Diablo!
With anguished surprise, Mónica has turned to look at the
volcano…from its crater, black smoke and a fine line of lava starts
running…afraid, she turns questioningly to find Juan’s face calm and
solemn…
--What is happening, Juan?
--Well, just what you are seeing…Mount Pelée is overflowing with
lava, over the rivers, the streams, leaving us without fish, and
without drinking water…
--Could we have an earthquake also?
--Of course, and it will not be the first nor the last…
--I have heard awful stories about what a volcano can do…
--Probably it was a volcanic eruption what brought Mártinique out of
the bottom of the sea, and another one could bury it…
--Why are you talking like that? It almost seems that you like the
idea…
--No, Mónica, I don’t like it… even though, in front of all the
injustice, of the pain and misery of the poor people, sometimes I
feel that nature is right in trying to get rid of men from the face
of the earth… Look at them, Mónica…
Both looked down watching the sad situation, men clenching their
fists sullenly, women scared embracing their children, crying…
--We are in the twentieth century, in a world that claims to be
civilized, and people are hungry and thirsty in front of a city,
because of the ambition of an usurer that wants it that way…
--To die of thirst and hunger? –asks Mónica-, But you can not allow
it!
--Better say that there is nothing I can do…
--No, Juan, you are wrong, the authorities are not that inhumane…If
we could raise a white flag, surrending…
--The governor did not want to listen to me…he only wants an
unconditional surrender…Have you ever been in the underground cells
of the Fuerte de San Pedro?
--Yes, once I looked in…
The memory comes stabbing her…she remembers looking through the
heavy rails, at another woman in Juan’s arms: Aimeé, her own sister.
Mónica grows very pale, making Juan smile, jesting with an effort:
--Do not worry! They are not going to put you in jail…
--Do you think it is because of that? How far you are from my heart
and my thoughts, Juan!
--True…I think we are very far even though our hands are touching
right now…
Juan had squeezed Mónica’s hand with his, making her come close to
him, realizing that he had hurt her with his words, but keeping the
big wall that exists between them:
--Mónica, it is better that way, and to keep it like that.
--Can I ask why, Juan?
--Because I am beginning to know you. You are always looking to
sacrifice yourself, just like other people look for comfort, honor,
riches…No, Mónica, you have to save yourself, there is nothing
between you …
--What are you going to say? Go ahead, finish! Go and hurt me with
your words, reject me in the same cold, hard way that you have been…
--No, Mónica, do not talk that way…Do not weaken me! This is not
your battle…You do not have to suffer with us here…Your name, your
class, your position places you on the other side. What crazy
situation has brought you here?
--Do I have to tell you with words, Juan?
Juan ha creído adivinar, ha ido a estrecharla entre sus brazos, pero
se contiene con violento esfuerzo, muerde furiosamente sus labios
encendidos del ansia de aquel beso que no ha llegado a dar, mientras
tensa de angustia aguarda Mónica la palabra que no llega…
Juan answers like reciting a prayer:
--This is not the moment to talk about our problems Mónica, I have
no right to do it because I do not belong to myself. I belong to
these people, the people I have risen to a revolt which they would
never had done…If this man that governs us would understand that I
am the only one responsible, that I offer myself…
--Juan, Juan…Give me a moment of your life –pleads Mónica in
anguish-. Let’s talk about our things for just a moment, only one
moment…
--All right…I…
He is interrupted by the horrible sound of three or four explosions,
followed by shouting and crying. Out of breath, Segundo is running
towards them, saying:
--They did it! Boss, they did it!
Mónica asks if they blew up the cask with the gun-powder, to which
Segundo responds no, it was the soldiers blowing up the rocks,
opening a trench, cutting off all possible communication. Juan is
looking irate, understanding that all those explosions are creating
a circle around El Cabo del Diablo, leaving them cut off from the
mainland, like an island. Segundo, complaining, exclaims:
--Don’t you see, boss? We should have done it first, avoiding this!
--No, we could not have prevented it! They would have destroyed us
–responds Juan, sadly.
--It is better to die fighting! -Fire!…Fire!…
The few armed men start shooting, while Juan jumps in front of them.
Hearing Juan’s voice, they stop…Juan jumps on top of the rocks
assessing the situation…Through the open trench, the sea comes
rushing in, while everywhere the boiling sea foam surrounds el Peñon
del Diablo, leaving them like a ship unable to sail away…A hand
softly touches his arm, and Juan turns to Mónica, his eyes glowing…
--Tú tienes que salvarte, Mónica… You cannot die here…
--No me salvaré sola, Juan… Correré la suerte de todos. If you can
do something for everyone, do it…but that is all, Juan, that is all…