The Tower of Il Serrohe (30 page)

“
Although the next generation had none of her abilities, one granddaughter, Rachel, showed interest in becoming a curandera. The other two granddaughters, Lupita and Shirley Marie, had no interest in the rigors involved.

“
Both Pia and Pita married and also had many children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren. Fortunately, each generation had one or two who inherited their powers. There is no indication that I am among those with their powers all these generations later because I have not passed through the Portal.

“
The sisters continued to visit Teresa until Pia and Pita died within hours of each other. Their descendants visited Teresa and hosted her in Valle Abajo until finally her time came.

“
It was a hot day in June, 1975—I don’t know what that means, but the people of the Rio Grande Valley have names for times when things happen. Don’t look so puzzled, Nersite. It doesn’t matter, but I suspect Don understands. Anyway, at that time Teresa vainly tried once again to sit up in bed. The doctor, on his weekly visit from Belen, had informed the family pneumonia had set in and her lungs could no longer be cleared. It would be hours, a couple of days at best, before she died.

“
Teresa’s daughter, Donna Marie, took her turn to sit with her as sundown approached.

“‘
Donna Marie?’ Teresa called in a weak voice that bubbled from the fluid welling up in her lungs.

“‘
Yes, Mamasita?’

“‘
I want to see your daughter, Rachel.’

“‘
All right. She is in the kitchen with her sister.’ Donna Marie stepped to the door and told her husband to bring Rachel.

At hearing the name, Rachel, again, Don’s attention became acute.

“
Rachel came in fearful of seeing her once vigorous grandmother in such a vulnerable state.

“‘
Come close,
mi hijita.
My eyes cannot see in this growing darkness. Donna Marie, please leave us.’

“
Teresa reached out to Rachel. Rachel grasped her soft, cool hand firmly.

“‘
Put my hand on your stomach.’

“
Rachel placed her grandmother’s hand on her enlarged stomach. She would give birth to a child within a month.

“‘
I will not see this great-grandchild,
mi hijita…
’

“‘
No, grandmamma! Don’t talk like that. You will get stronger—’ But her sobs choked off what both knew was simply not possible.

“‘
Shhh. I can’t waste my breath arguing foolishness. Remember when I would ask you about your dreams?’

“‘
Yes, you asked that of all of us. Where we went, who we saw in our dreams.’

“‘
You will have to do it for me when this child is old enough to understand, to find out…’

“‘
Find out, what?’

“‘
If the child has visited a valley like this, only different with people… or beings who are… different, who possess powers unlike what is possible...” She coughed, gathered what little strength she had left, and continued. ‘And if this child can see those beings here in Peralta even when he or she is awake.’

“‘
Yes, I remember your strange questions, but—
’

“‘
Shhh. Listen. If this child knows of what I’m talking about, you must take it to my place of mediation north of Rio Luna and have the child pass through the sealed window. There will be others to help if you don’t understand… Let me feel your bare stomach. I want to know the child within…’

“
Rachel placed Teresa’s hand under her blouse. The baby kicked and seemed to rotate at Teresa’s touch.

“
A light from an unknown source lit up Teresa’s face. She sat up as if shocked by electricity. Her hand became feverishly warm.

“
Looking deeply into Rachel’s astonished eyes, she said in a clear voice. ‘A boy! He has the power, I can see his dreams, already he visits Valle Abajo, but he will not remember this. He has no language yet, not even the experience with life an animal has—’

Don became agitated but did not speak. He found the connection between his brain and his voice was numb like a hand gone to sleep after being sat on for an hour. Nersite was nonplused by Don’s behavior, but Raquela continued without acknowledgement of the commotion her story had caused.

“‘
Grandmamma! Lie down, you’ll—’

“‘
Shut up, Rachel. This strength will not last. Ask him of his dreams when he can talk. When you take him to my place of meditation as soon as he understands… be sure you throw water on the glass before he passes through… he must do the same with his children, grandchildren, even great-grandchildren. I did not pass it on to your mother or you, but your son… He will be a curandero. If not, he will live a pointless life seeking to shut out the demons. He must know his destiny. Promise me you will do this!’

“‘
Yes, yes, of course, grandmamma. But I don’t understand…’

“‘
I don’t have time to explain. Others from Piralltah Steeples will explain…’

“‘
You mean here in town?’

“‘
Not this Peralta, but…’ Her strength failing, she sank back down into a deep sleep.

“
Over the next two days Teresa drifted in and out of consciousness, mumbling incoherently or whispering a blessing for each child, grandchild, and great-grandchild. Rachel could get no more from her except a knowing smile on her cracked lips.

“
The third morning started with a pleasant chill but before the sun could dissipate the dew from a hundred flowers in Teresa’s garden outside her bedroom window, she gave one last deep sigh and died.

“
Less than one month later, in the same bed, with the fragrance of the same flowers filling the room, Rachel died as she gave birth to the son she named Don Vargas.”

fifty two

“
Oh, my God! Oh, my God! Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, I don’t believe it!” Don shouted, jumping to his feet.

Nersite jumped up too, startled by Don’s outburst and the revelation of Raquela’s story.

Raquela’s eyes flashed as if electrified. She pointed to Don. “It’s you. You’re Teresa’s great-grandson. That’s why you’ve come here!”

Nersite started making odd little chattering sounds.

Don ignored Nersite. “I haven’t thought about my great-grandmother in
years
.
I vaguely remember her name, Teresa Chavez, I only heard about her as a child on a rare visit to my Grandmother Donna Marie. She was already quite old. She talked about her mother, Teresa, with such reverence—which didn’t mean a damned thing to the shit-ass kid I was. She was just a weird old curandera I didn’t know, like I never knew my mother.”

Don was still absorbing the full import of this revelation. “So that’s why I was able to come to this bizarre world. I’m deranged—just like my dear old great-grandmother. Except I went one better: I passed back to the Rio Grande Valley
without
going through the Portal.”

It was now Raquela’s turn to be stunned. “How—?”

Don was fully back in control, at least for a while. “After I left the Place of Homes and crossed the Seared Meadow a couple of days ago—”

“
It has been a long time. More than a few days,” Nersite added.

“
OK, so time passes differently here. Anyway, I was attacked by your buddies, the Soreyes, and put down in a hole with some clanspeople. They covered it up with a big wooden door. It about drove me nuts.”

“
A slave pit,” Raquela added.

“
Yeah, whatever. So there I am, desperate being in that rat hole with a bunch of crazy folks, and I blast out of there the next time they open the door. Then some lunkhead slammed me in the back of the head and the next thing I know, I’m back on the West Mesa overlooking the Rio Grande Valley. No Portal. Just a slam upside the head.”

Raquela marveled momentarily, then regained her wits. “I’ve heard from those who have been captured by the Soreyes, that the pits are wet.”

“
Yeah from piss and sweat, I imagine.”

“
And, of course, there is plenty of dirt. Was there a fire by the pit?”

Don thought for a moment. “No… wait a minute! Yeah! There was a fire of long, thick branches. I remember smelling smoke just before the blow to my head.”

“
Could they have hit you with a burning branch?”

“
Sure, that’s possible. What are you getting at?”

“
All the elements of the Portal were there: earth or dirt, water, air of course, and the fire from the very branch used to hit you.”

“
Yeah, well just because those elements are all brought together, rather forcefully I might say, that doesn’t mean I can pass back—”

“
What it means is that because of your unique gift,
you
can pass through a Portal of your own making. I’m certain my ancestors, Pia and Pita, could not do that and probably not Teresa either.”

“
Maybe they didn’t try.”

“
Maybe so. But now we know you can.”

Don went blank. His mind was so overwhelmed by the great-grandmother Teresa and portable Portal thing, he couldn’t think, couldn’t speak.

Raquela and Nersite stared at him. There was so much they didn’t understand about all this.

Don moved away slowly. “I need to think. Going for a walk. Back soon.”

As he went out the door, Raquela spoke. “Don, look at me.” He turned mechanically. “The Soreye village is
that way,”
she pointed to the west. “Walk in a different direction, OK?”

“
Yeah,” he nodded. “Might not get lucky a second time.”

His departure seemed to create an enormous vacuum in the room. The two clanspeople felt this was the closing of a big circle. Don
had
to be the one to save the Valle. Just look at his heritage and his abilities.  That is, in spite of the fact—though they had no word for it—he seemed to be a bit of a prick.

fifty three

I have to think clearly. What does being the great-grandson of Teresa mean? Do I automatically have an obligation to do something to save these people, or is this whole damned thing a set-up? If it is, how did they get my great-grandmother’s name? I can guarantee that son of a bitch bat had a lot to do with it.

More likely this is the over-all “plan” of the delirium. But how can an alcohol induced delirium come up with all this? Is this my mind at war with itself? The angel of my better nature fighting the demon of self-centeredness?

Maybe this is an escape from the reality of being betrayed and left by Bess?

But it is all too real. Dreams are strange too, but not this consistent and so damned vivid! I can actually feel things here physically. Being in Nersite’s hole while that Sliktooth guy was scratching about, I felt the walls and ceiling, I smelled the dirt, my cold sweats… no, that had to be real!

I mean, I couldn’t make this shit up if my life depended on it. It just comes relentlessly, one thing after another.

OK, so what if it isn’t real? So what? Dammit, I’ve already had this conversation with myself! Just go with it; ride it to its conclusion. But what the hell will be at the conclusion?

Only one way to find out.

Don returned to Raquela’s home to find the two waiting quietly for him.

“
OK,” he said. “I’ll do what I can.”

Losing her well contrived composure, Raquela jumped up and hugged Don, rubbing her face against his, then dancing about him like an excited child. This uncharacteristic behavior was disconcerting to Don, but he figured it was an odd Pirallt way of showing joy.

Nersite was a fountain of vocalizations, most of them being, “Hey! Hey! Hey! What did I tell you? He believes the stories! I did my best to tell them as I have been taught. Hey! Hey! Hey!” And so on.

Raquela rushed off to share the news with the people of her village and soon a crowd of Pirallts was dancing around outside her little hole-in-the-wall home. Supremely animated, they were oddly quiet except for the stamping feet. Some came to pull Don out to witness their excitement.

Nersite ran around the entire circle of them shouting, “Hey! Hey! Hey!”

After everyone was worn out, Raquela gathered dried fruit and nuts in a shoulder bag, a skin full of water, and the three set out for the Place of Homes.

Though Don didn’t want to talk about how Teresa had destroyed the Tower with Raquela and Nersite, he couldn’t help wondering if Raquela had the ability to pass through the Portal.