child Yani recalled an elderly nanny who took care of her and who never failed to cross herself the second she walked into the nursery.
Josephine was rumored to be from Africa... one of the many slaves who'd been recruited to work the cane fields. Of course everyone said slavery had been abolished long before Josephine's time but had it really?
The old woman never talked about herself to Yani... what the girl gleaned about Josephine's past came through the gossip among the other household help... father kept many servants in those days and the large house by the sea was always full of guests and bustling with activity.
Though an older woman—she first arrived when Yani was three years old—Josephine seemed vibrant and alert and full of strength equal to that of someone twenty years younger. She often sang Yani to sleep and though the girl couldn't understand the words of the lullabies—more of a humming than a song proper—she dreamed of far away lands full of green jungles and a multitude of wild animals all living in a sort of harmony.
By the time Yani was seven years old Josephine had become a wraith of her former self. Her clothes hung off her sallow frame as if she wore a tent and she moved about the house with trembling motions in her limbs and a frightened look in her far away eyes. The change had been so slow that Yani didn't mark it at the time. Only in looking back did she realized how drawn and haggard Josephine had become in only a few short years while working for Hajdani.
At the same time her father still appeared to be a young man not much older than twenty though Evalena who was said to be his oldest daughter seemed nearly that age too. Yani remembered her as a tiny and compact girl who danced as if the devil possessed her and who clung to their father in a way not comporting to custom.
Yani had left Cuba that night.
Going to the harbor she'd stowed away upon what she knew to be one of her father's ships bound to the Americas telling no one of her plans. She hadn’t any idea what port the ship was heading for but when she overheard some of the sailors on board saying they were anchored off the coast of Mexico she lowered herself into the warm waters and swam ashore.
Wandering into the interior of the country she made a life for herself in a little village called Angangueo where the people welcomed her as one of their own. Though they spoke the same language hers was more manic both in flavor and texture and it took Yani many years to learn to slow down both her mouth and her ears.
Apparently blessed with the same age-defying body as was her father and her sister, though she lived in Angangueo for four decades or more she still looked like a teenager and she began to hear how the villagers gossiped and see how they crossed themselves whenever they were in her presence. Finally despite wanting to stay Yani decided she had to leave or risk misadventure at the hands of the village elders.
Traveling north she blended in with other migrant workers who perpetually crossed the Rio Grande to work in the fields of the western part of the United States in the spring, summer, and fall and to return to Mexico in the winter, much like her beloved orange and black butterflies who did the same each year.
Unlike those butterflies, she left and never again returned to that beautiful little valley deep in the heart of Mexico.
Chapter 7
By the time the boy turned sixteen he'd purchased his first piece of real property: the old Barnes place, twenty acres of arid land with a rundown shotgun shack on the edge of it and a little more than a dozen dying cattle sick from the drought and lack of food. He bought the parcel and livestock for a hundred dollars, an old beat up Ford pickup truck, and a handshake.
"What on earth are you going to do with that old place, Rancher?"
"I'm going to try my hand at ranching. With a name like mine, how can I go wrong?"
Hank chortled a perfunctory laugh while continuing to shake his
Josephine was rumored to be from Africa... one of the many slaves who'd been recruited to work the cane fields. Of course everyone said slavery had been abolished long before Josephine's time but had it really?
The old woman never talked about herself to Yani... what the girl gleaned about Josephine's past came through the gossip among the other household help... father kept many servants in those days and the large house by the sea was always full of guests and bustling with activity.
Though an older woman—she first arrived when Yani was three years old—Josephine seemed vibrant and alert and full of strength equal to that of someone twenty years younger. She often sang Yani to sleep and though the girl couldn't understand the words of the lullabies—more of a humming than a song proper—she dreamed of far away lands full of green jungles and a multitude of wild animals all living in a sort of harmony.
By the time Yani was seven years old Josephine had become a wraith of her former self. Her clothes hung off her sallow frame as if she wore a tent and she moved about the house with trembling motions in her limbs and a frightened look in her far away eyes. The change had been so slow that Yani didn't mark it at the time. Only in looking back did she realized how drawn and haggard Josephine had become in only a few short years while working for Hajdani.
At the same time her father still appeared to be a young man not much older than twenty though Evalena who was said to be his oldest daughter seemed nearly that age too. Yani remembered her as a tiny and compact girl who danced as if the devil possessed her and who clung to their father in a way not comporting to custom.
Yani had left Cuba that night.
Going to the harbor she'd stowed away upon what she knew to be one of her father's ships bound to the Americas telling no one of her plans. She hadn’t any idea what port the ship was heading for but when she overheard some of the sailors on board saying they were anchored off the coast of Mexico she lowered herself into the warm waters and swam ashore.
Wandering into the interior of the country she made a life for herself in a little village called Angangueo where the people welcomed her as one of their own. Though they spoke the same language hers was more manic both in flavor and texture and it took Yani many years to learn to slow down both her mouth and her ears.
Apparently blessed with the same age-defying body as was her father and her sister, though she lived in Angangueo for four decades or more she still looked like a teenager and she began to hear how the villagers gossiped and see how they crossed themselves whenever they were in her presence. Finally despite wanting to stay Yani decided she had to leave or risk misadventure at the hands of the village elders.
Traveling north she blended in with other migrant workers who perpetually crossed the Rio Grande to work in the fields of the western part of the United States in the spring, summer, and fall and to return to Mexico in the winter, much like her beloved orange and black butterflies who did the same each year.
Unlike those butterflies, she left and never again returned to that beautiful little valley deep in the heart of Mexico.
Chapter 7
By the time the boy turned sixteen he'd purchased his first piece of real property: the old Barnes place, twenty acres of arid land with a rundown shotgun shack on the edge of it and a little more than a dozen dying cattle sick from the drought and lack of food. He bought the parcel and livestock for a hundred dollars, an old beat up Ford pickup truck, and a handshake.
"What on earth are you going to do with that old place, Rancher?"
"I'm going to try my hand at ranching. With a name like mine, how can I go wrong?"
Hank chortled a perfunctory laugh while continuing to shake his
Similar Books
It's Always Darkest Before the Fridge Door Opens: Enjoying the Fruits of Middle Age
Phil Callaway, Martha O. Bolton
