Short Stories

Two Types of Love

The small town of Sitalá arose one morning to greet the sun. Noises from the town center echoed into the open bedroom window, distant voices yelling about prices in the market and voices of kids playing in the street . Outside the window, farmers directed their livestock through the town for trade. Familiar voices also made their way up into the room, each chatting about the harvest while tending to the sweet potato and maize gardens.

Sacniete sat at the edge of the bed, listening to the usual morning sounds. More voices snuck in through the thin walls, screaming about preparations. She heard a knock at the bedroom door and without a word, her mother opened the door and walked in.

"Get dressed. Your new husband will be here soon," her mother said, walking to the window and closing it.

Before she could respond her mother bent down to open a faded, red chest that laid at the foot of the bed and pulled out a skirt and blouse. The blouse was white and had multi-colored threads wrapped around the sleeves. The skirt was floor-length and dark red.

Her mother handed her the clothes. "For your marriage negotiations today. Now get up and get ready. There is a petticoat and crimsole behind the dressing screen."

Sacniete grabbed the skirt and blouse and walked to a faded dressing screen. She changed out of her nightgown and into the outfit. Once she was changed, her mother sat her down at the edge of the bed once more.

"Mama, you and Papa chose my husband. Why him?" Sacniete asked, half mumbling her words.

"He has wealth," her mother said, braiding Sacniete's hair. "And status. He will treat us well. You don't want to end up being a bride who gets captured. No status, no wealth. Just worthless to her husband."

"But."

Sacniete heard some male voices from the front of the house. Her mother finished braiding her hair and turned her head so she could see who was there. In a flash, she stood up.

"He is here. Finish getting ready, your father will introduce you," her mother said hastily. "Be good. Do not ruin this for us."

Her mother left the room, closing the door behind her. Sacniete heard her mother greet everyone in Tseltal then rejoice about the gifts the groom brought.

Now clear from her mother's view, Sacniete rolled her eyes at her mother's response. Her parents wanted her to marry someone who would bring wealth and status to her family, nothing more. And God forbid, a bride-by-capture marriage. Brides who were captured were given nothing and were left only with their husband. Their families either decided to give them nothing, or to break contact all together. Sacniete only wanted to find her own husband, regardless of status and wealth, and marry for love.

Sacniete opened the door just a crack. She could hear the clink of glasses, her father was already drinking rum, brought over by the groom's parents. She could just make out that they were asking her mother about her and what she could do to please their son.

As she peeked around the door Sacniete's eyes landed on the groom. He was tall, lean, and looked more European than Native with lighter skin and light brown hair. He looked like he was in his late twenties, almost regal in his posture, and ready for anything, like negotiations were battle. Sacniete noted from his dress that he was one of the nobility, he wore a loose shirt with a dark blue fitted coat above stockings compared to the loose, cotton skirt and black pants that most men wear.

The floor beneath her creaked from her weight and her parents looked up to see her peeking. Her father cleared his throat to call her in and directed everyone to the small living room.
"May I present my daughter Sacniete," her father announced.