Tag: abuse

Arrows

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Excerpt

Through the smoke I made out the hem of her dress some distance
away. She was kneeling beside an inert body, which was pierced by
an arrow through the thigh and another in the chest. It was her
husband.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a near-naked man running. The
smoke partially hid him, but I saw he was tall, with strands of black
hair pasted to his chest by sweat and speed and others floating over
his shoulders. Funny, I thought, I have not seen that kind of long
loincloth before.
Then I realized he was charging toward Josefa. He bore a
belligerent expression, and there was blood on his naked chest
under his quiver’s band. A pang of fear hit me like a bucket of cold
water. Surely he wouldn’t kill a woman, would he?
We were both closing in on Josefa and her dead husband but from
different directions. I was closer than he was. Josefa looked up at the
Indian, open-mouthed and white as the ghost she was in danger of
becoming. I sprinted toward her, heart throbbing, and tore the
buckler from her dead husband’s grasp. There was a serviceable
harquebus lying at his side and the sheathed dagger at his belt but I
didn’t want to use any potentially lethal weapon.
I squared my shoulders and braced myself for whatever might
come. It was God’s choice to see us through or not. I raised the small
shield on my forearm as I had seen others do. His bare feet landed
underneath the buckler, and he delivered a savage blow that
shocked its way up my arm, pushing me back, the clang resonating
in my ears.
He held his arm high, ready to deliver another blow. I was
crouching, peering over the buckler. Josefa yelped. I charged and
overthrew him, grunting like a beast. He fell but was on his feet
before I knew it, the hellish macana still in his grasp. His eyes leered
at me from his horribly painted face. I could feel his anger, his pride,
his hate, but there was a fortitude that sent a chill down my spine.
He turned and swung at my belly, but I leapt backwards as the
macana came within inches. “Run!” I shouted.

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Arrows

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Excerpt

In the general direction of the enemy, Indian servants placed
forked poles to hold the muzzles of the heavy harquebuses. The
horses whinnied and stamped their hoofs, rustling the foliage as
they tugged at their halters. Somewhere farther away, I could hear
sheep bleating; closer the squealing of pigs.
Losada had mounted his black horse and was now whirling in
circles and bellowing orders, sword raised high over his head. I
glimpsed an Indian woman scampering into the bush with a toddler
on her back, suspended on a thick band hanging from her head. The
Indian servants scurried about, grabbing whatever they could and
herding the animals. All the riders mounted, and the dust cloud
thickened, forcing me to hold my breath. Gregorio ran past me,
balancing a harquebus in his hand.
“Don’t just stand there, hide!” he bellowed, his voice almost
drowned out by the racket.
“Where is she?” I yelled back.
But he was gone to join the harquebusiers gathering behind the
riders. I hunched into myself, rosary tight in my right hand. I came
upon the fire, blinking to clear the smoke from my eyes, and found
the last place I’d seen her. I stumbled over a basket and nearly fell. In
the name of all saints, I didn’t even know her name!
The servants had disappeared. I was the only idiot awaiting the
arrows. At the sound of grunting, I looked down to see a pig
careering into the heart-shaped leaves of a huge philodendron. I
followed the pig.
It took a moment for my eyes to grow accustomed to the dimness
in the jungle. I could discern crouching human silhouettes. Indian
women were huddled together on the ground, some crying, others
staring vacantly while frightened children clutched at them, some
finding oblivion at their mothers’ breasts. I made hushing sounds
and touched a shoulder here, another there, gesturing toward the
trunk of a big mahogany tree and mimicking the arrows falling

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Savages and Beasts

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excerpt

encounter in life are shared by all only to a different perhaps
level of intensity from one to the other ultimately to be left with
that Pandora’s gift to the universe: hope. And upon this hope
one commences all over, like a new Sisyphus pushing his rock
towards the hilltop.”
“You speak of very wise things, Dylan, and I don’t hesitate
to say that I enjoy your philosophical views,” Anton smiled at the
old Irish man.
Anton’s side view caught Migizi with a young girl coming
towards them. When they neared Anton and Dylan the youth
introduced his sister Miigwan to Anton.
“My sister,” the boy said proudly and his cheeks turned
red as much as his sister who lowered her eyes and didn’t say any
word.
“Good to meet you Miigwan,” Anton said to the girl who
whispered something, which only her brother Migizi heard.
Anton realized that it wasn’t meant to hear what the young
girl said and who continued to look at the ground and kept silent.
Her brother smiled at Anton and Dylan, pulled his sister
by the hand and walked away. Soon they were among all the other
children who walked around the grounds in bunches of two or
three, until the school bell was herd and Father Nicolas who was
on duty with Mary gathered them. They were put in rows of three
and slowly walked into the school for their morning porridge.
“Another day in Paradise,” Anton thought and smiled. Yes
another day to work in the laundry with the old Irish man.
The skunk was buried today while the sun played hide
and seek with the ones who looked up high and noticed, those
few who had perceptional vision of that kind. The skunk died
and took along with him the stench of those days, bad days as
Dylan named them; yet were today’s days different and if so in

https://www.amazon.com/dp/1926763602

Savages and Beasts

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Excerpt

Three months went by. July came with mischievousness and playfulness
from the hot afternoons that kept the city boys running
behind the ice cream truck to the stuffy nights that kept most
Kamloops residents awake and sweaty. And it was a stuffy place,
Kamloops, when the winds rejected every request for a blow
and the clouds refused to appear from the west where they came
most of the times; it was a stuffy place, Kamloops, with the nuns
and the priests waging their war against the savages while they
tried to teach them what they thought was necessary and useful
to them, alas they didn’t know that when you try to wash off the
black of a man trying to turn him into a white you only waste
your soap.
This was a celebratory Kamloops morning with the sun
half way up the invisible staff of nature’s flag when Anton imagined
it rising in tune with the joyous anthem of nature and all
the earth creatures stood in attention, from the tiny ants which
raised their antennae to the orcas in the pacific which raised their
dorsal fins straight up in the air as if slicing it in two pieces, from
the immense wings of the condors spread in salutation, to the
tiny wings of the hummingbirds balancing themselves in midair
as they gazed at the marvel of a fuchsia, and from the raised
tusks of the elephants in glorification of the rising flag to the
salutation of the injured soldiers in the muddy hutments of war,
such glorious was this morning in Kamloops when Anton drove
his GMC pickup towards the Indian Residential School before
seven o’clock.
He passed the quiet Thompson murmuring indecipherable
secrets to the shrubs and verdure standing on its two banks,
certainly in attention too, and soon he was parked at the School
parking lot. His glance went through the gap the big oaks were

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Arrows

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Excerpt

“We cultivate corn, roots and cacao,” he said. I remembered the
sweet, delicious aroma of a cup of hot chocolate. He must have read
my mind or heard my stomach rumble. “You must be famished!” he
said. “We ought to find you something to eat. Let us pay doña
Perpetua a visit in the kitchen.”
I followed him into the parish house. It looked like one of those
straw lofts we had in Spain. The inside was austere. Brother Carvajal
invited me to take a seat on a chair made of hide that smelled
strongly of its previous owner. A table, two chairs and a cabinet
completed the furnishings. The house was spacious, with a thatched
roof nine or ten feet high. It had a muggy, earthy smell to it. The
interwoven wattles protruding from the mud walls were
disconcerting.
He opened a trunk and produced a bottle of wine and two silver
cups.
“It’s wine from an outstanding harvest,” he said, “a present from
the new governor, don Ponce de León. Do you care for wine?”
I had little knowledge on the subject beyond colour and
sweetness and was going to say so, but he continued.
“It’s my only indulgence,” he said, chuckling at the double
meaning. I smiled, because we both knew an indulgence was a
pardon of sins granted—or sold—by the Church to the faithful. He
sniffed the open bottle. “These hazel-coloured wines are vigorous
enough to survive the crossing of the ocean without detriment to
their quality. The ones from La Mancha are the favorites in court.”
He filled the cups and handed me one. He waved his cup under
his big nostrils, then sunk his nose into it. “But, please, let us toast
the joyful arrival of another labourer to this field and the merits of
our allotted toils. May the Almighty bless them and give us drink
from the abundant flow of the fountain of his sacred heart.”
“How long have you been here?” I asked.
“Ten years, my son! Ten years of unremitting struggle to build
this.” His eyes scanned the wattle and daub walls,

https://www.amazon.com/dp/0981073522

Savages and Beasts

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Excerpt

“Hey Dylan, after lunch come for your sweet,” George
addressed the old man.
Dylan agreed with a movement of his head and grabbing
a tray he showed to Anton it was time for them to pick their
serving of food.
“He’s a good man,” Dylan said while they were eating, “A
stroke of fate brought him here, like everyone else, I guess…”
“What brought you here Dylan?” Anton’s voice sounded
full of curiosity.
The old man turned his eyes in various directions, from left
to right, even above towards the ceiling before he decided to say, “I
was a fisherman once, back east, in Halifax, when my craziness told
me to go west, to come to the West Coast and go salmon fishing.”
“What happened? Did you ever do that?” Anton wondered.
“No I never made it to the coast…” his voice was interrupted
by the stern voice of the Sister Helen who was on duty
along with Father Thomas; one of them supervised the boys and
the other supervised the girls while they were eating.
“There are no seconds,” father Thomas said to a boy of
about fourteen years of age who looked very tall and skinny.
“But I’m hungry,” the youth protested.
“Stand up and pick your things,” the priest said to the
boy who got up and taking his tray was ready to start walking
towards the counter when father Thomas gave him a hard hit
with his strap. The leather strap hit the boy on the left shoulder;
he abruptly leaned a little to his left and turning toward the priest
one could see his anger on his clenched teeth and fiery eyes; he
was almost ready to hit the priest when the hand of the priest
swung again and the strap hit the arm of the youth once more.
His tray fell on the floor. Noise was heard by all the children who
turned to see what was going on.

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Arrows

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Excerpt

“My mother always worked in a household.”
“Why is it bad to ask your name?”
“You didn’t ask my name. Say the words again, and I’ll tell you
what they mean.”
The horse had begun to graze, and Tamanoa took hold of the
bridle again.
“Matircom yeunatir ueipano dauquir” I repeated slowly.
“Breasts, nipples, whore . . .” His voice trailed off as he signalled
the meaning of the last word by pointing to his crotch. “And what
was the other thing you said? Ah, yes. Guecenar onque. That means
give me your . . .” Again his voice trailed off, and he turned and
pointed to his rear end.
Heat rushed to my face. I massaged my eyes with the heels of my
hands and heard him giggle.
Torn between anger and laughter, I laughed. Benjamin, Benjamin.
He had taught me words I would never have dreamed of saying,
and I had repeated them like a parrot. No wonder we had gotten so
many looks. I was laughing so hard I removed myself and my horse
from the convoy.
“It was Benjamin,” I said. “So it’s your turn to help me. How do I
ask your name?”
“It depends. There are Indians from far away who have been
brought here to work, and we all speak different languages. But in
mine it would be atiyeseti?”
“What language is yours?”
“Cumanagoto. Carib. It comes from the eastern coast. It’s the
most common. My mother came from the region of Cumaná.”
“Are the families brought here together? As husband and wife?”
He shook his head. I looked at the Indians around me. That could
explain much of their sullenness.
In the year 1511, the Church had proclaimed the equality of men
and denounced the Spanish debauchery in La Española. But in that
same year, King Fernando El Católico had declared the branding of
cannibals. For the Spaniards, natives out of range of missionary
protection were cannibals. They were raided and sold as slaves.

https://www.amazon.com/dp/0981073522

Savages and Beasts

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Excerpt

Absorbed in their work they faintly heard the recess
bell. Children walked out to the schoolyard again. They were
still timid and quiet like the sun behind the clouds that didn’t
dare show itself, same as the light breeze amid the tree leaves
that didn’t know whether to play and create its rustle or to keep
quiet like these hurt and intimidated kids. The savages, Anton
thought, were outside and the civilized and mighty remained
within the walls of this facility. And these civilized and wise
archons had their goal: to educate and make good law abiding
citizens of these brutes, to make them alike themselves so they
could one day go out there and subjugate others, they could one
day go out there and proselytize others to the good word or else.
Anton’s mind ran amok to things unpleasant and cruel,
things these kids were going through at their tender age and
suddenly he revolted at the cruelty of such a system and tears
started flowing down his eyes. He turned aside so Dylan wouldn’t
see him and wiping his eyes with his hand he took a deep breath
that didn’t go unnoticed by the old Irish man.
“What is it Anton?”
“I’m thinking of these kids and my mind went to the
rumors out there, things people talk about. Even the man who
lived under the same roof with you, old Simon, I often meet him
at the diner.”
“That drunkard? He’s of no good. He’s only good when
he prepares the traditional haggis during the Robby Burn’s day
annual festival. He’s no good for nothing else. He’s just a big
mouth that’s who he is, nothing more.”
“He sounded so convincing each time he spoke about these
kids in this school and the archons over them. He sounded so
convincing and he insisted of the cruel ways the church people go
after these children.

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Arrows

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Excerpt

I helped him up and guided him to a seat on top of the same barrel
he had supposedly broken. His weight caused the wine to pour out
even faster. Without a word, I turned to Benjamin and offered him a
hand.
“The eyes of the Lord are in every place, beholding the evil and the good.”
I smiled, extending my hand further. “I apologize for the push; I
didn’t think I could stop you otherwise.”
His eyes darted from my face to my hand, and he took it with a
grunt. I smiled even more, digging my heels to support his weight as
he stood up. I patted him on the shoulder. I was getting rather good
at applying Bartolomé’s persuasive techniques.
“The barrel must have been damaged already,” I said. “You do
realize it could not have been broken by this little fall alone, don’t
you? Please, don’t hurt him or anyone else again.”
Benjamin put a hand on his dagger and leered at the Indian, who
was already picking up the damaged barrel and loading it onto his
narrow shoulders. He was lean and small, the barrel undeniably big
for him.
I met Bartolomé’s eyes, intense and darkened by the shadow of
his scowl in the dawn’s dim light. The corner of his mouth twitched,
and he gave me an imperceptible nod.
“Back to work!” he bellowed.
I felt ashamed for all of us. It sickened me to realize that every
man among us, even Benjamin, someone who had a tendency to be
jovial, was inclined towards cruelty towards the Indians, as if by
some pre-ordained right.

Soon it was almost time to leave Borburata for the city of El Tocuyo.
We would be a party of ten men on horseback, one hundred Indian
servants, fifty tame Indian warriors and three hundred head of
livestock.
The horse they offered me must have been the oldest quadruped
ever to walk under the sun, and a moody one at that. It glared at me.

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Arrows

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Excerpt

“I’ll talk because the time for our farewells is near,” I said, “and I
don’t want us parting like this.”
“Try me.”
He turned to look at the ship. His aftershave aroma of lavender
and storax, mixed with our sweat, filled my nostrils and sharpened
my senses. Watching him reminded me of my own looks, a sort of
discovery. Over the years, although he was four years older,
Bartolomé and I had become more alike, despite the inequality in
weight and his hooked nose. The main difference was the ripple of
his strong muscles visible under his shirt. Sometimes it was like
watching the movements of a powerful horse.
When I had come to board the ship, we were shocked to see each
other again. We always wrote and knew everything about the other,
but six years had passed since our last encounter. He took me by the
shoulders and looked me over from head to toe. Apparently
satisfied with my growing into manhood, he patted me on the
shoulder and grabbed my tonsure, shaking me softly before
squashing me in a bear hug.
Now we would soon be taking our leave of each other, and only
God knew when we would be reunited. I realized I was staring at
him and turned to face the sea.
Illuminated by the rising moon, the ship swayed, two lanterns
glowing on the castle decks. I watched the white spume of the waves
breaking, their hissing claim on the beach. The breeze carried the
voices of the men still sitting around the fire.
“Why the hell did you flog yourself?” Bartolomé asked.
“To purify my heart.”
“Purify your heart? Salvador, you haven’t done a bad thing in
your life!”
I snorted, shaking my head and reaching back to pull at my habit
and detach it from my wounds.
“I beat him,” I said. “I beat Pánfilo. He was having his way with a
girl. She wanted to resist. I don’t know what came over me. I
couldn’t believe my eyes, and before I knew it I was beating him up.
I didn’t mean to.”

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