When the Owl Cries Part 22

Above Angelina's bed, there was a jagged plaster crack, where a picture had hung. Propped against bolsters, she held out her hand to him.

"Raul, how are you?"

"My shoulder's about well."

"Manuel said it was a rifle bullet."

"Jesus Peza fixed me. Lucky for me he was at Palma Sola."

"Sit down, won't you?"

"How are you, Angelina? Why are you in bed?"

"The quakes. Have you seen what they did to us?"

"I've seen some of the damage ... I just came in."

She sat up higher, her dark hair flowing around her, her eyes extra brilliant, her willowy body showing through a gauzy pink gown. He sat beside her and tried to enjoy her beauty, the fragrance of her perfume and powder.

"What have you heard from Vicente?" he asked.

"He's all right. We've heard from the school." Her words came slowly.

"Who found out about him?"

"Esteban. I sent him."

"And the school itself?"

"The upper floor was damaged. Several were killed at Mountain Rancheria.... Petaca is ruined ... what happened at Palma Sola?" Her nose wings widened and her mouth trembled.

"Two men were killed there. I hear it was very bad in Colima. But you must know about that."

"Yes ... yes, I heard," she said, indifferently, and her indifference, so sudden and so cold, made him feel like a stranger.

"I heard that maybe two hundred died," he said.

"Is it true that Pedro's men ... ah, shot you?"

"There's no doubt about it. Manuel and I saw them. Pedro was there."

"When Manuel came to me, I sent him to your father."

"I'll speak to my father soon."

He wanted to smoke but did not care to let her see how his arm movements pained him. He clenched and unclenched one hand, staring at the wall.

"Why haven't men been put to work on the roof of the living room? A rain will come and we'll be flooded." He stood. "I'll see to things."

She gazed past him, at the opposite wall, and saw herself wearing a fur coat, entering the theater.... She smiled and arranged her hair.

"I'll find Manuel," he said.

"Yes, he's around," she answered, the words curt. "Let's have time to talk one of these days. I'd like to plan to leave soon. The quakes, the smoke, the dead ... I don't seem to be much help." She picked at her fingernails. "You'll find time for the house ... for Manuel."

In the game room, Raul got Manuel to change his shoulder dressing.

Leaning on the pool table, he fought the pain.

"The carriage ride messed you up."

"I suppose so."

"I'll change the dressing again first thing in the morning. Hold still."

"I'm riding to Colima tomorrow to see the rurales."

"Pedro's not here. Wait a day or two."

"Is the hole in my shoulder so bad?"

"Bad enough."

"Then I'll see Jesus in Colima ... let me sit on the edge of the table, Manuel."

"Better?"

"Better."

"Colima got it bad, so Esteban says. Many buildings wrecked."

"So bad as that?"

"Stores have been knocked apart. The Sangre de Cristo church lost its roof. The hospital had the upper floor damaged. Houses have gone to pieces. People are camping in the Plaza; there's almost no water...."

"Take it easy with that bandage. We'll have to send men to help in the town; I'll talk to Pepe, Flores and Tonal; they can help. Maybe we can go to town together. If the rurales can't see me I can leave my request in writing.... We'll see an end to Pedro...."

"The b.a.s.t.a.r.d," snapped Manuel, helping Raul put on his shirt.

"Not so fast!"

"I've just come from the graveyard," said Manuel, trying to sound matter of fact.

Raul forgot his shoulder.

"What happened there, in G.o.d's name?"

"Some of the graves opened ... the quake."

"Caterina's?"