When the Owl Cries Part 47

"Mona, la Mona," she whispered.

"What did you say?" Fernando asked.

"Nothing," she said.

She walked to the door and went slowly toward the serpentine fountain and leaned over it and stared at the fish that huddled under greenery.

Sloshing water with her hand, she gazed about her. The dog was there.

It followed her upstairs, to her door.

Breathlessly, she slammed the door.

Breathing fast, she opened her wardrobe and removed her fur; she stroked it and kissed it and laid it on the bed. Lying beside it, she said:

"We'll be going to Guadalajara soon. We'll be going there to stay.

We'll be at Maria's. I'll be all right there.... You'll see. What a fine time we're going to have...."

Raul found her there, asleep. Sitting beside her, he gently woke her.

"It's time to eat," he said.

"What?" she asked.

"Lunch is ready."

"Oh ... I've slept all morning."

"Let me help you up."

"Everything's so quiet," she said.

"Everything's all right."

"I'm glad," she said.

"I've heard from General Matanzas. Troops are all around the country; a number rode by Petaca this morning. They'll protect us, Angelina."

She sat at her dressing table, blinking. Taking her powder puff, she began to powder her throat and neck, wanting to waken gradually.

Raul stood near her, thinking of other years, time by the window, time in the garden, time to play games, to sit with a baby in his lap.

Nothing would recapture those days.

"Vicente is downstairs," he said, knowing how pleased she would be.

"He's downstairs! Darling, why didn't you tell me?" she cried happily, holding her puff motionless. "How did he come?"

"He came with Octavio."

"Who's Octavio--a schoolmate?"

"Yes."

"They rode here on horseback?"

"Yes."

"They might have been shot," she murmured, thinking of those who had died at Refugio.

They were facing one another in the mirror.

"They followed the back roads. They knew how to manage."

"Good for Vicente," she said.

"He wants to stay at Petaca," Raul said.

"You mean he won't go with me to Guadalajara? I need him."

"I think we can change his mind."

She called Vicente from the door and he came leaping upstairs, his hair badly combed, his tropic clothes in a mess. He kissed his mother dutifully, then turned to his father and said:

"Tell me about the shooting, the fight here." His energy flashed into his gestures. "It must have been exciting. And to think that you drove the soldiers away!" He beamed proudly.

"They weren't soldiers," said Raul.

"They were rabble," said Angelina.

"I'll tell you all about it later," Raul promised.

"I'm so glad you and Octavio got through safely," said Angelina.

"It was easy, Mother," said Vicente.

"Did anybody bother you?"

"No, Mother. And now everybody in Colima knows that Petaca beat off the--the others. We're safe here."

"You and Octavio get washed for lunch," said Raul. "Aren't you hungry?"

"Sure we're hungry."

Octavio was an older boy, with pained saddle-leather face and down-twisted mouth. "Is it going to be a revolution?" he asked, at lunch.

"I don't know," said Raul.

"People in Colima say no," said Octavio certainly.

Raul served macaroni and chicken to the boys, helping them bountifully.