Doña Isidora, Peruvian Short Stories and Poetry of Yesterday, Today and Tomorrow

By Dorila Marting

Doa Isidora is a story of love, romance, disobedience, disinheritance, betrayal, repentance and reform, of learning to lead a fulfilling life for the benefit of the community. The setting is the quaint Andean town the natives call Pomabamba (Region of Mountain Lions), located in northern Peru. The heroine, fifteen-year-old Ishi Villarreal, is about to pass from girlhood to young womanhood; as is customary, she is expected to be obedient and marry the suitor her parents have already selected for her. Unbeknownst to Teodosio and Dona Luisa, however, Ishi has secretly fallen in love with the aptly named Amador, a dashing young Spanish Don Juan newly arrived in town.

Will the hopes and dreams of Ishi's parents become a reality? Or will true love conquer all?

***

A native of Pomabamba, Peru, Dorila A. Marting grew up surrounded by the tales of her native city as told by family members and local Quechua storytellers. In Peruvian Short Stories, Marting brings these childhood accounts to life with a narrative that is as distinctively authentic as it is universally relatable.

"This Peruvian legend has many versions depending on who is telling the story. I will relate to you what I heard a long, long time ago, as a child, from an elderly storyteller Quechua woman named Mama Cunchina."
The Cave of Maria Josefa

With voices spanning from the small and elderly mouse (the Emigration of Domestic Animals) to the all-encompassing Mama Patcha (Mother Earth), every story is uniquely enchanting while still supporting the overall parable that is weaved throughout the collection. Marting illustrates her memories with the ease of the Quechua storytellers of her youth, and indeed, these accounts of love, loss, family, nature, friendship, and respect are as crucial and resonant today as they were during the inception of Peruvian Folklore.

I invite you to navigate to a foreign land and to a foreign culture and enjoy these stories as much as I have."
Mary L. Jones, introduction

***

These poems are the author's recollections of life in Peru and the United States. Her background in journalism is reflected in her writing style and choice of topics. She worked for nine years for two leading daily newspapers, The Arizona Republic in Phoenix and The Arizona Daily Sun in Flagstaff, Arizona.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Nov 3, 2014
• ISBN: 9781499082760

Dorila Marting

Dorila A. Marting gives us a riveting portrait of a land and a culture very unlike our own. Yet at the same time, her universal themes—the eternal struggle between the generations, the ties that bind—make for an astonishing debut novel filled with colorful characters and intriguing situations anyone can relate to. Coming to the United States as an immigrant, Dorila A. Marting is proud to be a naturalized American citizen. From 1959 to 1968, the author was a correspondent for the Arizona Republic in Phoenix and the Arizona Daily Sun of Flagstaff. A member of Arizona Press Women and the National Association of Press Women, she has received ten State Press awards and one national award for her journalism. Following graduate work at the University of Arizona, she became a Spanish language and ESL teacher. Now in her golden years at age eighty-seven, Marting is in perfect health and continues to write creatively from her home in Tucson.

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Copyright © 2014 by Dorila Marting.

Library of Congress Control Number:   2014918378

ISBN:      Hardcover     978-1-4990-8277-7

                Softcover      978-1-4990-8278-4

               eBook             978-1-4990-8276-0

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

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Rev. date: 10/21/2014

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Contents

DOÑA ISIDORA

In Gratitude

Foreword

Introduction

Prologue

I Doña Isidora Villarreal López

II La Reunión Secreta

III La Declaración del Amor

IV Un Ramo de Rosas

V Alazán

VI La Fuga

VII ¿Dónde está Ishi?

VIII El Fin de Una Amistad

IX El Chisme de Vecindad

X De Vuelta

XI El Amor de la Madre

XII El Precio de Alazán

XIII La Trama

XIV Lavado y Charladuría

XV Las Nupcias

XVI El Carnaval

XVII El Domingo de Ramos

XVIII La Pascua de Resurrección

XIX El Amor Prohibido

XX Las Posesiones Mundanas

XXI Las Lluvias Torrenciales

XXII Los Animales Domésticos

XXIII La Muerte de Doña Carmelita

XXIV La Casa de Sueños Infantiles

XXV El Parto y la Partera

XXVI El Amor Perdido

XXVII El Amor Prohibido

XXVIII La Distancia No Separa El Amor

XXIX La Despedida

XXX La Confrontación

XXXI La Desilusión

XXXII Un Golpe Terrible

XXXIII La Confrontación II

XXXIV Increíble

XXXV La Muerte y El Nacimiento

XXXVI Lo Perdido y Lo Hallado

XXXVII Juntos Para Siempre

XXXVIII El Tesoro Escondido

XXXIX La Confrontación III

XL La Inspiración

XLI Dicho y Hecho

XLII Las Vicisitudes de la Vida

XLIII El Consejo de Padre

XLIV La Vida Es Buena

PERUVIAN SHORT STORIES

Dedication

In Gratitude

Foreword

Introduction

The Quechua Wedding

The Enchanted Lakes

The Steel Cross

The Cave Of María Josefa

Mother Earth

The Emigration Of Domestic Animals

Coillor’s Night

La Beata

To Live Incognito

The Loyal Servant

The Ruins Of Yaino

Fateful Day At Marañon Bridge

Blind Date

The Old Lady Acolyte

Grandma Buys Her Casket

The Gambling Saints

Two Powers Of Persuasion

Revenge

The Hidden Treasure

Hunted For Life

The Tired Rock

The Troublemaker Parrot

The New Heir

The Pool

Mingling Of Two Cultures

The Enchanted Mountain

The Electric Plant Of Pomabamba

The Peruvian Shawl

The Cathedral Of Pomabamba

Doña Laura And The Wild Bulls

POETRY OF YESTERDAY, TODAY AND TOMORROW

Dedication

Gratitude

Prologue

Alma Mater

Alma Mater

An Invitation To Relaxation

Autumn Campus

Avalanche

Bougainvilleas

Cessna 150 Crashes At The Meteor Crater

Christmas Day In Peru

Curayacu

Desert Resurrection

Dust Devils

Elegía A Mi Madre

Elegy To My Mother

Humphrey Peak Of Northern Arizona

Jon’s Lemon Tree

Miss Tucson Mountain

Mount Lemmon

Mulli

My Children

New Year Celebration In Peru

Niagara Falls

Palo Verde

Quiquipa Chinaigam

Girl Of Mine

Sale Of Yellow Thorns

Sonnet To Arizona

Sonnet To The Moon

Sunset

Sunset Crater

Teenager Quechua Lovers

The Day Of The Dead

The Destructive Ravens

The Fog

The Gila Wood Pecker

The Heroes Of Yarnell Hill Fire

The Lady Saguaro

The Moods Of The Pacific Ocean

The Mother Quail

The Mourning Dove

The Peruvian Andes

The Quechua Boy And The Snake

Cuyasga

Quechua Sweetheart

The Sequoia

The Young Quechua Man’s Lament

To A Quechua Mother

To Emma

To The Quechua Baby Boy Sleeper

Tumbleweeds

Maypatan Cuyashga Ayhuacushga

Which Way My Lover Has Gone

Windy Spring In Winslow, Arizona

Wisdom Comes Too Late

cover.jpg

With much love and affection, I

dedicate this book to my family in the United States, Perú, Venezuela, and to all my friends all over the world.

In Gratitude

A million thanks go to my late husband, Dorsey P. Marting, who encouraged me never to give up my desire to become a writer and to my beloved daughter, Mrs. Mary L. Jones, who insisted that I must write this novel. Thank you also to my dearest friend, Ms. Idy Linares, for her assistance in so many ways.

Foreword

From the Andes Mountains in Perú, at an elevation of 9,000 feet, Dorila Marting, the author of this novel, experienced growing up with an exhilarating life full of pure air, crystal clear water, mountains to climb, and freedom to explore. Public and private hot springs alongside the Pomabamba River abound with mineral waters to maintain a healthy body, and there are fresh fruits from the local trees and vendors to eat after bathing. The local population enjoyed many types of cereals, tubers produced or found locally, and tropical fruits carried by the Quechuas from the Marañón area near the Amazon jungle.

This book tells a story about Doña Isidora’s life and customs in the city of Pomabamba, meaning region of mountain lions, during the early 19th century. The author remembers her childhood, which included the stories told in the evenings by her grandmother and Quechua storytellers. Growing up bilingual, she remembers these stories being told to her in both the Spanish language and the Quechua dialect, which originated from the time of the Incas. Those who read this book will experience the life and customs found in this region of South America during that era.

—Jon D. Marting, her son

Introduction

I was born in Pomabamba, Ancash, Perú—a beautiful Andean region north of the country. Pomabamba means Region of Mountain Lions. This novel may appeal especially to young women who often make the same mistakes as the heroine and protagonist of this story, Doña Isidora. As a result of her poor judgement, she suffers dire consequences but is able to overcome her flaws and become a successful businesswoman and mother of two young children. She finally regains her status in the community and wins the respect of the townspeople.

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Characters in the Novel Doña Isidora

Prologue

Doña Isidora, endearingly called Ishi, is a lovely but spoiled young lady, the only child of Teodosio Villarreal and Doña Luisa López de Villarreal. She was about to undergo the rite of passage called in Spanish Quinceañera.

Ishi has secretly fallen in love with a newly arrived Spanish gentleman called Amador Flores, who like Don Juan Tenorio, has been breaking many young hearts.

Ishi’s parents, as it was customary many years ago in Perú, have different ideas on courtship and marriage than does their daughter. They have chosen Pablo Moreno, a young talented neighbor and childhood playmate of Ishi, for her escort at the ball. It is their wish and hope that they will eventually marry and live happily in the style to which both families are accustomed.

The story begins with the celebrations of the Quinceañera, exactly on her fifteenth birthday, a day never-to-be forgotten.

I

Doña Isidora Villarreal López

Quinceañera

(15th Birthday Coming-out Ball)

When Ishi was about to become a fifteen-year-old lady, her parents planned a lovely party. She was a beautiful, petite girl, like a rosebud about to bloom. She had expressive brown eyes, and her abundant black hair was always neatly combed and adorned with peinetas (hair combs). She was a polite, gracious Spanish señorita. Being the only child, she was the apple of her father’s eye. A spoiled child, she got away with fulfilling most of her wishes.

The family lived in a comfortable brick home, with a large patio and orchards. They had a maid and a cook. In the land inherited from his ancestors, a modest small farm, Ishi’s parents raised cattle, sheep, pigs, goats and chickens. They lived comfortably from the product of the land and from the sales of their animals in the nearby markets. There was always some money left for rainy days, hidden in the house and in a bank in Lima.

It took an entire month of planning to celebrate Ishi’s Quinceañera party. Her favorite uncle and aunt would be the Padrinos (Godparents). Choosing her escort from so many handsome boys of her age was difficult. Ishi’s father had that privilege of choosing. Meanwhile, her favorite aunts made the lovely, long white satin gown that resembled a bridal gown, decorated with rhinestones, beads and sequins. One of her uncles, a shoemaker, made her high-heeled pumps sprinkled with rhinestones. Young girls made the tiny white rosebuds for her hair and for her bouquet, while young boys cut lovely designs on small squares of colored paper, called papel calado resembling decorative doilies, with more sophisticated designs, to string them up as streamers in the corridors and the patio. Doña Luisa, Ishi’s mother, and her female relatives made the plans for the banquet, consisting of roasted baby pigs and baby goats, fried guinea pigs, appetizers, salads and trimmings, including the beautiful torta (cake).

While everyone was busy with the plans for the party, Ishi’s father was preoccupied choosing an ideal escort for his daughter. He visited the parents of Pablo, Don Ernesto and Doña Amalia Moreno. Pablo, nicknamed Pablito, was a shy young man three years older than Ishi. His parents were honored to have their son as an escort for the lovely señorita. This deserved a toast! No telling where this could end. After all, Pablito had eyes for this lovely lady. He was a good boy, a hard worker with hopes of becoming a businessman. Ishi and Pablito had been friends since childhood, but lately she was isolating herself and avoiding Pablito. Both families had a similar lifestyle, both had land and were respected citizens of the community. In those years, parents knew best how to select partners for their children, directly or indirectly. Ishi’s father believed that this was a good start and wished that someday the young couple would marry and live happily ever after.

While this was going on, Ishi was also busy answering love letters to a secret sweetheart. The messenger was a little boy, the son of the cook, who went back and forth with folded letters in his pockets. There was a knock at her bedroom door; Ishi quickly hid the letter under her mattress and opened the door. It is you, Mom. You scared me!

Scare you! What were you doing?

I was about to take a nap, Mom.

I came to tell you that your dad has found an escort for your ceremony.

Who is he, Mom?

Pablito.

Oh, no, Mom! Not Pablo. I hate him! I do not want this party! Why can’t I choose my escort?

Because parents know best. Pablito and you have been friends since childhood. I know why you are beginning to hate him. You are secretly corresponding with that no-good foreigner, Don Amador Flores. Since he arrived from Spain, girls have gone crazy about him. It would be your own downfall to fall in love with him. He has no profession, no career, no ambition, no money, only good looks. He is a lady killer! I forbid you to see him. Your father would have a heart attack for sure!

Mom, I already love him. I have seen him many Sundays in church.

Sure, he goes to church just to see you. Toss him out of your little head.

Mom, please cancel this party.

Too late, invitations have been accepted. You are about to become of age, act like it.

Ishi began to cry and asked her mother to leave her alone. She did.

For the event, the church was decorated with garlands of fresh flowers and bouquets of white roses were placed at the altar. A solemn mass would be held accompanied by musicians, and Las hijas de María (Virgin Mary’s daughters, a chorus of young girls) would sing the Ave Maria and other favorite songs. The young girls were all dressed in white.

The church was filled with invited guests awaiting the entrance of Ishi. All relatives of Ishi and Pablito were seated at the front row. The guests stood up when Ishi entered the church in the arms of Pablito led by her Padrinos. Everyone noticed that Ishi was sad, not smiling, as if she were going to a funeral; but how beautiful she was, all grown up into a young lady.

She is just nervous. She is fine, a lady whispered.

It took one hour for the high mass to end. Following the communion, the priest asked Ishi to sit by him in order to lecture her about her duties as a young lady. He told her what to do and what not to do. Finally, he told her that he hoped to see her returning to the church as a bride in the near future. Then he told her to place her bouquet at the feet of the Virgin Mary and pray to her for protection and safekeeping.

Obediently, Ishi walked to the niche of the Virgin Mary, knelt and prayed. She asked the Virgin to make her dream come true, to marry Don Amador Flores. When she opened her eyes, as by impulse, she gazed at her left side and saw Don Amador standing near, focused on her. Their eyes met and communicated in silence. The gentleman picked up his hat and left the church. He was an uninvited guest!

Following the ceremony, all of the guests went for the feast at the home of Ishi’s parents. Each carried a small gift—homemade objects or jewelry. The aroma of the delicious food filled the air. Guests were seated at individual tables in the corridors and at the edges of the patio. There was an assigned spot for the band and ample room for dancing. In the center of the patio, there was a small table on which had been placed the new high-heeled pumps for Ishi and her favorite doll.

After everybody ate to their heart’s content, Ishi was escorted to the table by her father. At the command of her father, she threw backward her favorite doll for some child to catch it. From then on she would no longer play with her doll. Then her father seated her on the chair, took off her childhood slippers and replaced them with the fancy, high-heeled pumps. Ishi threw her slippers backwards, as was the custom, and her girl cousin caught them. At that moment, Ishi was entering the social life and renouncing her childhood. The band played a waltz and Ishi danced with her father, then with Pablito, and male relatives. Everyone took to the floor to dance La Marinera (typical of Perú), some waltzes and other Latin dances, until late hours of the morning.

II

La Reunión Secreta

(The Secret Meeting)

Two weeks had gone by since Ishi had her Quinceañera party, and she was unable to send love letters to Don Amador, with the cook’s little boy, or to receive one from him. Her father had put an end to this nonsense. Ishi was heartbroken.

But this episode did not stop the direct communication between the lovers. They met briefly at the churchyard or at the entrance of the church. On one of those occasions, Don Amador suggested that he would come and see her across her iron-barred window, late at night, when everyone was asleep and the lights were out.

Ishi smiled and said with excitement, When will that be?

Tonight.

Tonight?

"Yes, at 10:00 P.M. Hasta luego (see you later), my love."

Ishi entered the church and went directly to the foot of the Virgin Mary and prayed for this meeting to take place.

At home, at supper time, Ishi was not hungry. Her thoughts were with Amador. She ate like a bird picking pieces of food here and there. She failed to join in the familiar conversation with her parents. Her father gazed at her and noticed that she was losing some weight, which preoccupied him.

After supper, the family usually played brisca or canasta (card games) more or less to entertain Ishi. Tonight, she excused herself saying that she wanted to finish reading an interesting book.

"I will play brisca with your papá and I bet I can beat him! Do what you have to do," Doña Luisa said to her daughter.

She is acting strange. I wonder what is going on. Ishi’s father looked at his wife.

She is fine. It is just part of growing. You worry too much, Doña Luisa assured her husband walking toward the card table. Let us play!

In her bedroom, Ishi tried on several dresses to impress her sweetheart. None pleased her. What might look perfect would be her new, long, white nightgown decorated with lace and tiny buttons in front. It looked like a bridal gown. She brushed her long, black hair. She ran to the mirror back and forth to admire herself. Sí, sí, Amador would like to see her with her hair down falling in cascades over her shoulders! She was pleased. She looked at the clock ticking and it was almost 9:00 P.M. Her parents will be passing by to go to bed at the other end of the building. Ishi quickly turned off her kerosene lamp, went to bed, covered herself and pretended to be asleep.

Her parents walked gently as they passed by her bedroom. She is sound asleep, Doña Luisa whispered as she closed her door carefully.

To wait an hour to see her lover seemed an eternity. She practiced love phrases and many love songs came back to her memory. The one so appropriate was this one:

At 10:00 on the dot there was a gentle tap, tap on her window. Ishi rushed toward it, opened the two little doors and secured them. Then she sat on the wide ledge of the window to greet Amador. You made it! You made it! Ishi said.

You look gorgeous tonight, under the full moon! He kissed her alabaster hand through the spaces of the iron-bar window. Your hand is so small and so soft, and your eyes glow like diamonds in the sky. I love you, Ishi, he said.

With all your heart? she asked.

With all my heart, he replied.

Will I be the only one forever and ever? Ishi questioned.

You and no one else, I promise you, he said.

The dashing gentleman pulled out a red rose from his pocket and placed it behind the right ear of Ishi. There, princess! May I steal a kiss through these bars?

Ishi pressed her face against the iron bars and received her first, long-awaited kiss. Their hearts beat at high speed. She admired his fantastic sideburns and well-trimmed moustache.

Outside her window, the madreselvas (honeysuckles) in bloom were intoxicating with their perfume, and the pepper tree that shaded her window was a silent witness of their love.

During this timeless moment of their life, they both heard footsteps not far from her window. A pair of lovers stopped and noticed their presence and giggling continued with their walk.

Tomorrow, the gossip will be all over town! My father will be very angry, Ishi began to cry.

Tomorrow, I will go to your parents and ask for your hand, Amador comforted Ishi.

My father will not allow me to marry you. He thinks that he has chosen the right one for me.

No, in Spain, and in Europe, the girl chooses her partner.

If worse comes to worst, we can run away and get married.

You are right! He has to accept us. We all can live happily as a family. Right?

Right! I will meet you at the same time, tomorrow night. Right here.

III

La Declaración del Amor

(The Proposal)

Before the chisme (gossip) of Ishi kissing her sweetheart between the iron bars of her window spread at high speed like the barco de vela (sailboat) on a windy day, she asked her father to talk to him in private.

Very well, let us go to the living room, he said.

Almost trembling, Ishi walked next to her father. When both were seated in a cozy corner of the living room, she gathered the courage to tell her father that Don Amador Flores would be coming to their home that very day at two o’clock to ask her parents for her hand in marriage.

My dear child, every woman should look before she leaps. You are not using common sense. Why this urgency?

Papá, Ishi bit her lower lip slightly searching for words to express her feelings and finally said, We love each other, and we think that we are made for each other.

Ishi’s father looked at her like a surgeon does when examining a sick patient and said, "You are in love with love and not with that young foreigner that resembles Don Juan. How is he going to support you? Right now, he is a freeloader at his aging aunt’s home. I understand that he has not one penny to his name."

"Papá, he is going to find a job soon as an Escribano (Notary Public) or as an Amanuence (Scribe) for a Justice of the Peace or for a lawyer."

Notary Public or Scribe, the angry gentleman cleared his throat, With that little income how is he going to support you in the style to which you are accustomed?

"Papacito, (Daddy), first of all, Amador has a beautiful penmanship and good orthography; second, servants are cheap. For three soles a month I can find one quickly. I was also thinking that he could become the son you always wanted and did not have. She raised her voice, paused and said, We could all live together happily. I would not ever think of leaving you and Mom all alone. We take pride in having extended families. Don’t we, Papá?"

"To live with that Don Juan in our home? How ridiculous. That will never happen. You are a dreamer. Get this in your head: Disobedient children get disinherited. Guerra avisada no mata gente (an announced war does not kill people). Calm yourself and think."

"Papá, he is not Don Juan. You are making it up to discourage me. I know all about him, more than you ever will. I am his only love. So, the answer is no?"

Correct, No! No! No!

Tears fell from Ishi’s beautiful eyes like drops of pearls down her rosy cheeks, and she ran to her room and closed the door.

Doña Luisa, who heard most of the conversation from the adjacent room, walked fast to her daughter’s room.

Ishi dear, it is Mom. Open the door. Ishi! I do not have all the time in the world to wait here at your door. There is always a remedy for every illness.

"All right, Mamá," she opened the door.

What is bothering you?

"Mom, in just two hours Amador will be coming to see you both to ask you for my hand in marriage. I know that Papá does not want to see him and that his reply will be negative."

Here is a clean handkerchief. She pulled one from her skirt pocket. Wipe your face, darling. Parents have to be courteous with the guests, especially in this case. I will see to it that he is received like a gentleman. We can serve coffee and cookies. I will sit next to your father although I will not be able to say much. Men are bosses in our culture, you know that. I better change my outfit. Give me a kiss and a hug, darling. You know I love you with all my heart.

"I also love you, Mamá. Tell me how you met my father?"

My parents arranged our wedding. It has worked. We are still here, together.

Did you love him?

I learned to love him for what he is. In a Catholic wedding, you are married for life. The most important thing for a couple is to become friends. True friendship lasts a lifetime, more than physical love. I do not know whether you two are meant for each other. If it is just infatuation, your marriage will hit the rocks like the big waves of an angry sea. The clock is ticking. I better get ready. You, too, my child.

Having told the maid to prepare hot coffee for the guest, Doña Luisa entered the living room wearing her best outfit and helped her husband to light his favorite pipa (pipe). Then, she said, I heard the conversation between you and our daughter.

Did you hear what Ishi said?

Yes, you were harsh with her.

How dare that playboy come to ask us for the hand of our daughter in marriage! The answer will be No! No! No!

I understand. But, how do you know he is a playboy?

I know that he is flirting with every young girl in town.

In her room, Ishi quickly washed her face, brushed her black hair, and put on a pretty pink dress that complimented her rosy cheeks. In the mirror she practiced a sweet smile to greet Amador. Oh, yes, she remembered to dab her ears with her favorite perfume and to wear her high-heeled pumps. She looked tall and slender. How she admired herself.

Ishi ran into the kitchen where the servants were busy. Josefa (the cook) was grinding freshly roasted coffee beans; Manuela (the maid) was polishing the silver coffee set. The cook’s little boy, Panchito, was busy playing with marbles on the kitchen floor, knocking them down with the snap of his little fingers.

"Niña, you look lively!" they said in unison. Although now a grown up lady, to them Ishi was still their niña.

You all stay here. I will open the gate when Don Amador knocks on the door.

"We can peek from the kitchen door and look at the handsome gentleman. We are happy for you, Niña Ishi."

Exactly at 2:00 P.M. the sound of the aldaba (door knocker) urged Ishi to open the gate.

Hi, princess! You look gorgeous! Amador kissed her hand.

Prince of my dreams, you, yourself look handsome. Be brave, my father will deny your request. I am sad.

Don’t be sad. We can run away and get married.

Really?

Really.

Do you promise?

I promise.

Will you love me forever?

Forever and ever, until death do us part.

It is a deal. Now, let me introduce you to my parents who are awaiting you in the living room.

The servants kept watching them anxiously from the kitchen door.

"Papá, Mamá, I want you to meet my future fiancé, Don Amador Flores."

Teodosio Villarreal, at your service.

Luisa López de Villarreal, at your service. Please be seated.

Ishi excused herself and went into the adjacent room and closed the door. Then, she sat behind the door with her left ear glued to the door to hear everything they said.

Don Teodosio tossed many questions at the nervous young man.

Well, my parents died a few years ago. Yes, we lived in the outskirts of Madrid.

Why would anyone leave Spain, especially Madrid?

Well, many men of my age have ventured to seek their fortune in the new world. Perú offers a lot of opportunities.

I understand that you live with your aunt, Doña Carmela de Flores, Doña Luisa questioned.

"Yes, my aunt is now a widow, aging and enfermiza (sickly). She is glad to have me with her."

How did you meet our daughter? Don Teodosio inquired.

At the church. She is the most beautiful girl I have ever met. It must be destiny! There is chemistry between us, and we have fallen in love, Mr. Villarreal. That is why today I came to ask you for Ishi’s hand in marriage.

We are sorry to inform you that our daughter will be engaged soon to a worthy young man, whom we love as a true son. Besides, how would you support her?

I am trying to establish myself as Notary Public or as Scribe for the Justice of the Peace. I could venture into politics later.

I believe that you should be looking for a bride elsewhere. The answer is NO! Don Teodosio said emphatically.

Doña Luisa interrupted the conversation saying, I will go and see if the coffee is ready.

You should not be bothered. I will be leaving soon.

No, no, no! Our guests are always treated well, with wine, coffee or goodies, she said as she left the living room with a smile.

Does Ishi have anything to say in this matter?

She is too young to decide what is best for her. Parents know better.

But she might not be in love with the other man.

Love grows after marriage like the shadows grow after the sunset. You will be better off looking for a partner somewhere else.

The maid entered the room carrying a silver tray filled with fancy coffee cups, decorated sugar cookies and dandy embroidered napkins.

Coffee is coming soon, she announced.

Doña Luisa came to serve the coffee. Soon enough, the maid returned with steaming café con leche in a silver pitcher and sugar.

Doña Luisa tried to be gracious as she changed the conversation to a more pleasing topic such as the weather and the current events.

Having enjoyed the coffee and the cookies, Don Amador picked up his hat. Thank you, señora, for the treats. It has been nice meeting you both.

No harm done! said Señor Villarreal.

None, the young man smiled as he shook their hands, Good-bye.

IV

Un Ramo de Rosas

(Bouquet of Roses)

Pablo had been working for weeks on the canvas, creating the picture of Ishi in her quinceañera outfit, holding a red rose close to her chest. He was thinking of framing the 11″ × 14″ painting in a silver frame embossed with miniature rosebuds. He would hang it on the wall facing his bed, because above the headboard there was an image of Jesus with the crown of thorns, bleeding and dying on the cross, something that upset Pablo. This way, he would glance at the picture of Ishi at bedtime and when the morning light woke him up.

Mrs. Moreno knocked at his door and said, "Hijo (son), may I come in?

"Claro que sí, Mamá (Of course, yes, Mom)."

"¡Qué hermoso! (How beautiful!) Mrs. Moreno admired the almost finished painting. Then, with pride, she said, Son, you are endowed with many talents. You are not only a businessman but also an artist. What a combination! When you are tired of doing business, you can relax painting and creating works of art. I believe that this, Ishi’s picture, is the first one in color in our community. You know that Fulano y Sutano (Tom and Dick) do portraits in white and black. Nothing like this!"

"Mamá, my father helped me to order several sets of acuarela (watercolors) from Lima. I am fascinated with them."

"Hijo (son), you should be. You are on the road to becoming an acuarelista (water colorist).

"Hijito, in our community, where there are no cameras, paintings are treasures. You could make a career of it. Once in a blue moon, a traveling photographer either from Huaráz or Lima shows up and pockets a lot of money. Some people even empty their piggy banks. Remember that."

"Yes, Mamá, the photographer makes arrangements in advance and usually lands at my aunt’s Hotel-Restaurante Roberta (room and board). Her three-room hotel is usually available for him."

Then, Pablo spaced out thinking of how interesting it was for a child to follow the footsteps of the photographer as he went from house to house taking pictures of the families. When Pablo was a child he became the photographer’s little helper. The photographer placed the huge camera on a tripod and covered it with a big, loose, black cloth, which had an opening in front of the lens.

Then, he set up the backdrop either white or black depending of the hair color of the subjects. It always had to be outdoors with plenty of light and sunshine. He unfolded many one piece shawls, black or white, with an opening for the head. The ladies put on the shawls (resembling ponchos) to cover their blouses or dresses. Men were told to wear a black suit, white shirt and tie. They were told to either sit or stand still, no blinking, no winking and no smiling. He would say listo (ready) once he stuck his head inside the black cloth. He usually took two pictures of each subject, just in case someone might have smiled. The finished product showed the subjects sharp and clear, with wooden faces. Those pictures, small or big, lasted about a century.

Pablito, are you all right? Mrs. Moreno addressed her son.

"Sí, Mamá, I was just thinking how exciting it was for me to watch the photographer."

Well, son, I came to tell you that you have been very busy with that painting and not seeing Ishi.

"Mamá, she seems to be always busy when I try to see her. She has changed a lot. We were inseparable, all our lives."

"Hijito, you are so shy! Yet, you have so many qualities, so much to offer. Lucky will be the girl who marries you. I think that you have an inferiority complex. You think that you are not good enough."

"Mamá, what do you think I should do?"

"Court her! I heard that yesterday Ishi had a guest, that forastero (foreigner) good for nothing. Dressed in his best, he went to see Ishi and her parents. He could have Ishi at the snap of his fingers. He is a clever fellow!"

"Mamá, Ishi is my sweetheart. She would not look at another man."

"You do not think so? Well, why don’t you go and see her now? Take her a bouquet of red roses from our yard. The red ones are big, beautiful and velvety, and the lágrimas de la Virgen (tears of the Virgin) are all white and in bloom. I will fix a bouquet and tie it with a pretty lacy ribbon. Go get ready!"

As she picked and cut the roses, Mrs. Moreno remembered how Ishi loved her roses as a little girl. The curly-haired child sometimes hurt her fingers with the thorns of the roses and would cry saying, Why do the pretty things hurt people?

Mrs. Moreno would say, "Amorcito (Little love), pretty things like the roses hurt people, and then she would kiss her fingers. There, you will be all right."

I don’t want to hurt people.

I hope that you never do.

Pablo looked handsome in his new black pants and blue shirt as he walked to the kitchen table to get the bouquet of roses from his mother.

"Mamá, the bouquet is gorgeous! Ishi will love it!"

"Buena suerte (Good luck), son." She kissed Pablo on his right cheek.

Pablo’s heart was pumping all the way to Ishi’s house. When he arrived at the gate, he banged three times using the heavy aldaba (latch).

Manuela, the maid, wearing a clean white apron opened the gate and said, Oh, Señor Moreno, what a pretty bouquet of roses!

Is Ishi home?

I am not so sure, sir. I will go and look. Please wait here, the maid walked fast throwing back her long tresses.

Pablo saw a movement behind the curtain of the living room. Slender fingers lifted the corner of the curtain and two sparkling eyes looked at the gate, She is home, Pablo said to himself, that is my girl. She will walk to meet me with her usual smile.

"Niña Ishi, Mr. Moreno is at the gate with a bouquet of red roses," the maid said to her.

I know. Tell him that I am not at home. From now on, I am not at home when he comes.

Manuela went back with her eyes looking down at the ground, Mr. Moreno, the lady is not at home. I looked for her in every room.

Pablo knew that she was lying and that she was too ashamed to look him in the eye.

"Please give this bouquet to her. Adiós." He then left.

Pablo had not noticed before that the road back home was pedregozo (stony). He kicked some of the pebbles and raised dust. He could feel in his flesh the thorns of the roses prickling his heart.

Hijito, ¿qué pasó? (My son, what happened?) Mrs. Moreno inquired.

Ishi was not at home. I left the bouquet with the maid. Pablo said with trembling voice.

Don’t give up, son. She will come around.

Pablo said nothing.

Pablito, do you want something to drink?

"No thank you, Mamá. I am going to change my clothes and go for a walk by the river. I need exercise."

Reaching the river, Pablo sat on a big, square, granite rock beneath the sauce llorón (weeping willow). The foaming river squished and splashed hitting with its waves the rocks and greenery. Some of the huge rocks that had broken away from the base of the Jancapampa Andes now lay as smooth, small rocks called collotas all along the shore of the riverbed. What changes do time and hardship do to people and things.

Pablo gazed at the path of the river disappearing in the distance beyond the hills on its journey to the Amazón River, but before reaching that place, the river would fork out to join and mix with other rivers. Pablo meditated saying to himself, Is Ishi breaking away from me, too? Tears ran from his eyes. He pulled out his handkerchief and cried his heart out. Men were not supposed to cry, but there was no one there to witness his pain. The gentle breeze came and made the low branches of the weeping willows move and caress Pablo’s shoulders, as if consoling him.

The sun was going down illuminating with purple colors the rock walls of the river. Pablo washed his face with the crystal clear water and walked home.

V

Alazán

(The Chesnut Colored Horse)

Don Jacobo Ruíz, endearingly called Don Jacobito, was a small man. He had become widowed, with three daughters still children. Two of them had already married. The youngest one was Emilia, called Emilita, 15 years of age, still living at home.

Don Jacobito raised fighting cocks, his main source of