"The Burro's Confession"
Entering his home, Santiago was immediately sobered as always. The need for quiet meant that everything was subdued within the house. The lights were kept low and the servants were instructed to move about as quietly as possible. Gracilia had recovered some small portion of her strength and was able to get out of bed for brief periods and take short walks within the house, but that was all. Her pain was ever present, but she took the medicine and held the affliction at bay as well as she could. She was seated in the great room in front of the fire as he approached. He noted again the deepening shadows under her eyes which stood out against the pale thinness of her face. She looked up at him with eyes that were dulled with laudanum or her illness. Or was it something else? He searched in vain for the remnants of the woman he had married as he looked into her eyes. No, there was only a hollow shell remaining. He sighed, not caring if she knew it.
Gracilia noted Jorgé’s disappointment with a detachment that left her unmoved. She made no attempt to find it within herself to care one way or another about his feelings. There was just nothing left. She did not ascribe her current lack of emotions completely to the affects of her medicine or her illness. In the last year, she had watched her husband withdraw from her as her illness progressed. At first, he was attentive and caring, seeing to her needs himself. Then, as the realization came that she would never get any better, and perhaps would grow worse, she could see him pulling back, letting Pippa take over her care entirely. She had tried reaching out to him, needing the comfort of her husband to give her strength, but he had withdrawn. Oh, as long as he needed to portray the caring husband before her uncle the governor, or other notable personages who came to Monterey from time to time, he was quite attentive to her. But as soon as they were alone, things returned to normal. Or at least what passed for normal in their household now. She came to know he saw her as an impediment to the lifestyle he felt was his due. Because there was nothing she could do to change that, she pulled back within herself and merely lived from day to day. She did not let herself feel anything, but deep within the recesses of her heart, buried in a place she would not acknowledge even to herself, she cried for what was lost.
Only Santiago’s desire to find out more about Diego de la Vega led him to speak to his wife now. He came around to sit in the chair next to hers, settling his sword beside him. "My dear," he said. "I have just had an interesting bit of conversation with someone who knew you in your youth." Gracilia continued to gaze into the fire without comment. Continuing, Santiago said, "It was Diego de la Vega who spoke of you." At first, Gracilia did not seem to acknowledge the name, but after a moment she raised her eyes to meet Santiago’s. "Yes, my dear. Diego de la Vega. I believe you saw him the first day we arrived in the pueblo. He was the young caballero sitting in the carriage near the church. Do you remember? He asked me to extend to you his best wishes and he asked me to remind you of a certain burro . . . who attended confession?"
Gracilia remained unmoved for several moments and then an almost imperceptible smile found its way to her lips. So, her heart still harbored some life after all, she discovered to her surprise. She nodded slowly. Yes, now she remembered the handsome young man in the carriage. So that was Diego de la Vega. She had always known that Diego would turn out to be quite handsome when he grew up. She remembered his smile most of all. The burro? And Diego? One of her fondest childhood memories. Her smile grew just a little more as she recalled the event to mind.
Santiago was intrigued. This was the most emotion he could remember his wife displaying in quite some time. He wanted to know the story even more now. "Can you tell me the story, Gracilia? How did a burro come to go to confession? And how were you and Diego de la Vega involved?"
Gracilia took a deep breath and slowly let it out. In a quiet and monotone voice, she began to speak as she returned her gaze into the fire. "I was a girl of about nine when Diego de la Vega came to Monterey with his father," she said. "He was but a few years older than I. My father had given me a little burro to ride as a present on my birthday. Diego, Rosarita Cortez, and I took turns riding him all over the town. When it was Diego’s turn, he leaped upon the burro’s back and taking a long stick, proceeded to joust with some of the townspeople as if he were a great knight. It was really very funny to see him charging at fat old Luis, the baker, who was carrying a tray of baked goods to the governor’s house. Diego accidentally caught his lance in old Luis’ apron and very nearly caused him to drop his cakes." Gracilia’s tentative smile returned as she remembered more about the incident. "The baker put down his tray and took off after Diego who spurred his valiant steed to greater speed. In watching his pursuer, Diego forgot to look where he was going and ran straight into a detail of foot soldiers just returning from patrol. Rosarita and I were horrified to see several of the soldiers were knocked down. In the confusion, Diego got the burro turned around and headed back in our direction. But he had to dodge old Luis and dropped his ‘lance’ just in time to trip the baker, who went flying in the dust."
Gracilia paused for a moment and Santiago could see that she was gathering her strength to continue. He waited patiently. "Now there were soldiers and the baker who were trying to get their hands on Diego," she continued. "He led them in a chase down some of the back alleys of the town, trying to avoid capture. I looked at Rosarita and told her we had to do something. So we ran to the church to see which way they were going. Suddenly, Diego rounded the corner of the church. He had put a little distance between him and his pursuers. Rosarita and I looked at each other for just a moment and then we both sprang to open the church doors. Diego charged into the church on the burro and we girls shut the doors just before the soldiers and the baker came around the corner."
"You were the ones who let Diego and the burro into the church?" asked Santiago incredulously.
Gracilia nodded, looking down at the floor, a little embarrassed.
"What happened then?"
0 "Oh, the lancers came and questioned us, asking if we had seen a boy riding a burro pass by us. We, of course, answered that we had not."
"You lied?"
"Oh, no. We were telling the truth. Diego had not passed by us. He had gone into the church." Here Gracilia shyly smiled again.
"And then?"
"The lancers and old Luis talked for a few moments in front of the church and then decided it was not worth the effort to look for the boy any longer and they all went their separate ways. Rosarita and I were relieved to say the least. As soon as the men were out of sight, we hurried into the church. We were dismayed when we did not see Diego or the burro anywhere. We did not know where they could have gone. We waited and waited, hiding behind a pillar, not wanting to be seen by the padre and then have to explain who we were looking for. Finally, we saw the padre leaving the confessional. He paused for a moment, looking back, and then left the sanctuary, going to his study, I think. When he was quite gone and not before, the door of the confessional opened and out came Diego leading the little burro. He was as white as a sheet and spoke not a word until we were well away from the church, although we girls laughed merrily at his predicament."
"And what did he say about it?" said Santiago.
"He said that he had barely gotten the burro into the confessional in order to get him out of sight when the padre had come upon him and asked if there was anything he could do for him. Not knowing what else to do, Diego said he had a friend who could not speak, but who wanted to have the padre hear his confession. He offered to interpret for the friend and the padre took him up on the offer. So the burro had his confession. To this day, I do not believe the padre ever knew that he took the confession of a burro." Gracilia put her hand to her mouth as she laughed quietly. This was the first time she had laughed at anything in such a long while.
Santiago found himself laughing along with her. Imagine, giving a burro a confession right there in a church. He shook his head as he laughed. Then his eyes met Gracilia’s and their laughter subsided. Gracilia’s laughter had returned some of the color to her cheeks and she seemed more alive than she had in many, many days. Then the image of the burro in the church returned to him and he laughed gently once again. Seeing this, Gracilia joined him and for a few moments they were able to put her illness beyond them.
"Did Diego ever say just what it was the burro confessed?" he asked.
"I believe little one confessed he had been under the influence of a boy who had gotten them into trouble with the soldiers and the baker," she replied with a smile.
"And what was his penance?"
"Let me see," she paused to remember. "I think he had to go and apologize personally to each person he had bumped into and then he had to drop a peso into the poor box."
"And did the burro do all of this?" asked Santiago.
"Oh, Diego took his place. He put the peso in the poor box and went and apologized to all of the lancers and the baker. He was a very serious boy when it came to keeping his obligations. He said it was only right that he apologize for what he had done. He had a lot of his father in him for all that he was just a young and playful boy. The de la Vega honor and sense of justice."
"Oh, is that so?" said Santiago, musing more to himself than to Gracilia. "I wonder if he kept up with that ideal as he grew up?"
"I beg your pardon?" said Gracilia, who had not heard clearly what Santiago had said.
"Oh, nothing, nothing, my dear. It was an amusing story. I will have to tell Diego that you remembered the incident well," said Santiago. "It is a welcome change to see you laugh once again, Gracilia. I will be sure and thank him for that. Now, I must go and finish several dispatches which need to go to the Governor with the next courier. You will excuse me?" Rising, he bowed and left Gracilia to her memories. He would have to test Diego to see whether the young man still carried with him this sense of honor. If so, then he was a man who could be manipulated if done carefully. Men of honor were so predictable. Santiago was sure there was a place for Diego de la Vega in his plans. Just as he was sure there was a place for Alejandro de la Vega as well. That proud old bird wore his honor like a suit of armor. It just remained to be seen how he would use the both of them to achieve his goals.
Gracilia watched Santiago leave. This was the longest time either of them had spent together in conversation in many months. It reminded her so much of the first months of their marriage when everything had been normal and she and Jorgé had their whole lives before them. Although she recognized Jorgé as a man driven to fulfill his ambition of rising in the government, they used to find the time to talk pleasantly together. If he had truly loved her, she did not know, but he had been kind to her and she liked to think that he had loved her. And then this vile illness lay its hand upon her and strangled all that was good between them. Now his work and his fencing consumed his time and she was not a part of his life any longer except when it was to his benefit. She was so very alone now.
She was grateful to Diego for bringing a small moment of happiness to her. She did not know if she would ever see him again, for she was far too weak to entertain guests in her home, but perhaps she might feel well enough to send a personal note to thank him later. Unbidden, she found herself wondering what her life would have been like had she married Diego de la Vega instead of Jorgé. Would he have turned from her when her wasting illness had come between them as had Jorgé? She just shook her head sadly. There was no answer to that. No man would know what he would do until he had to face such a situation. But as she remembered those few weeks that Diego had remained in Monterey when they were children, she decided that she would give him the benefit of the doubt. Even as a boy, Diego had seemed to value people over property and wealth. For a few moments she let herself dwell in the small fantasy of what might have been.
Her smile turned into tears, however, when reality resumed its shape around her. She was the prisoner of her own body and helpless to hold onto her husband’s affections in whatever form they might have taken. She covered her face with her hands as she wept and Pippa came to see what was the matter. Gracilia would say nothing, but continued to weep. It was almost as if the emotions so long pent up inside of her had been released by the little story of a boy and a burro.
Pippa could do nothing for her mistress and so she ran to get the physician. From past experience, she knew better than to disturb Señor Santiago with her mistress’ illness. In moments, Doctor Avila was there and they carried Gracilia to her bed and dosed her with laudanum. She did not protest. In fact, she welcomed the release the foul tasting medicine brought to her. While under its influence, she did not have to feel anything. She did not have to think or feel. She did not even have to exist if she did not wish it. All she had to do was slip into a dreamless sleep and let the world and her troubles fade away.
After Señora Gracilia was finally asleep, Doctor Avila turned to Pippa and said quietly, "Do you know what may have happened to cause her to break down as she did?"
Pippa looked sadly at her mistress as she said, "All I know is that she and Señor Santiago were talking together. Once, I even thought I heard Señora Gracilia laugh a little. Then Señor Santiago left and she began crying. I could not make her stop."
"Do you know what they were talking about?"
"No, Doctor. I was busy in the other room and could not make out what they were saying to each other," said Pippa.
"Perhaps it is just her illness," mused the doctor. "She is so very weak and this medicine is very strong. But it is all we have." He looked at the bottle in his hand. "I wish there was more I could do for her, but there is nothing." Sighing, he put the bottle on the table. "Call me again when she awakens. I will see then if she requires anything further."
