Neophyte

Juvencio

With every step she took toward the infirmary, Metztli felt afraid. She would meet Anna Maria's widower, and she didn't know what he would say or react to. The others might have told him what happened to his wife and what Metztli tried to do.  

Would he blame her?

Would he scream at her?

Hate her?

So many possibilities ran through her mind that she didn't realize that Toypurina and Mariana had noticed. "Worried?" Toypurina asked.

"Yes. I don't know how he will act. I also don't know what I can say. What's his name?"

As they approached the infirmary, Toypurina looked forward. "His Spanish name is Juvencio, but in the tongue of our people, he is Cheveyo. You may call him whatever you wish; he prefers either." 

Metztli looked at Mariana but noticed her seriousness and thoughtfulness. Mariana was worried about the situation with Pascual, and Metztli didn't want to stress her more than she already was. "No matter how he reacts, I will take it. I will answer any questions he may have." 

When the three women arrived, some people stood outside the infirmary. Many of them whispered to one another. They noticed the women, especially Metztli, and the whispers died. They made a pathway for them. Metztli took a deep breath and motioned to enter first; Mariana and Toypurina followed. Some herbalists tended to the sick, but Anna Maria's widow was in the center of the room.

He sat up from his bed, gaunt. His short black hair was in total disarray, with a few knots. His face was shaggy and wrinkled. His black eyes were filled with emptiness, and his eyelids were mismatched. When Metztli saw him, she thought he looked like a living corpse since he was very skinny and looked as if he hadn't eaten in days. Metztli put her hands together, her fingers twirled with one another. Beside him was Valentina, who sat silently; the women looked at one another.

Valentina stood up from her seat, walked past Metztli, and stood by her mother, who stood at the doorway with Toypurina and the others. Everyone was silent.

Metztli took a deep breath and was about to speak and said, "Ju-Juvencio, ¿querías hablar conmigo (Ju-Juvencio, you wanted to speak to me)?" The young woman wanted to slap herself across the face. She felt that she should have given him her condolences. Metztli wondered if it mattered in the end. What words would bring him comfort? "N-no sé qué podría decir pero lamento mucho su pérdida. Y- (I-I don't know what to say, but I am sorry for your loss. I-)."

"No hay nada que decir. Mi familia estan muertos (There is nothing to say. My family is dead)." Metztli bit her lower lip and lowered her head slightly. She prepared for the worst and wondered if he blamed her for not begging hard enough. "Me contaron lo que hiciste. Nadie se había atrevido nunca a hacer lo que tú hiciste. Quería darte las gracias (I was told about what you did. No one has ever dared to do what you did. I wanted to thank you)."

Metztli, including everyone, were stunned. Everyone believed that Juvencio would cry, scream, curse God for the loss of his family, but he didn't. His thanks were unexpected, and Metztli was trying to accept it. When looking at Juvencio, he still looked emotionless, but there was something deeper in his eyes. After what Metztli had witnessed, she wondered how common death was in the Mission. 

Juvencio looked as if he accepted his family's fate. "¿Nos pueden dejar en paz? Quiero hablar con ella a solas (May you all leave us? I want to speak with her alone)." Everyone looked hesitant, but Mariana called out the nurses and motioned everyone away. Juvencio and Metztli waited until everyone was out and away from the infirmary. Mariana slowly closed the door, leaving the two alone. 

Mariana then looked at everyone and told them that the morning mass would soon end and everyone had to prepare for Padre Fermin's arrival. The Mission had to be cleaned. Everyone was relieved they didn't have much to do and proceeded with the preparations. Toypurina and Valentina stayed behind. "Juvencio was silent when he woke and when he was told everything that had happened. Yet, he thanked that woman," Valentina said with a hint of venom.

Toypurina noticed Mariana's hint of displeasure and didn't want mother and daughter to begin an argument. "It may look astounding to you, seeing his state. He is still processing his loss and the fact that someone else was willing to sacrifice for him and Anna Maria. When have any of our people done such a thing?" Valentina bit her lower lip; she felt that Toypurina sounded like Metztli. It seems as if you envy her, Valentina."

Valentina flinched, crossed her arms, and looked at the dark, cloudy skies. "Iztlacahuiā (Lies)," she muttered to herself. 

"I will not ask you further, Valentina. However, you must accept that she has an important role here. Metztli holds strength that many of us had forgotten we had. I believe that with her on our side, she-"

"Micti! Nimitzlazohtla in tlein tlamatli otitechmolotla (Enough! I know what you are trying to do)!" Mariana snapped, making her daughter and Toypurina flinch. "Toypurina, it is not wise to disrupt the peace between the Mission and our tribe! A few deaths are not worth even more!"

Toypurina became serious as she slowly shook her head. "Xinechtlapohpohui (I am sorry). "Peace never lasts, Mariana. You and I know that." Toypurina slowly walked away and looked at her mother and daughter. "It will only be a matter of time; it only takes someone to break it."

Mariana and Valentina watched as Toypurina walked away. Valentina looked at her mother, who looked serious; she wrapped her arms around herself. "Nonantzin, I-"

"We must get breakfast ready for the Padres. You and I have much to speak about afterwards."

Meanwhile, Metztli was motioned to sit next to him, to which she obliged. When sitting next to him, the bandages were noticed, and they were drenched with blood; a shiver went down her spine. "¿Estás avergonzada de mirarme (Are you ashamed of looking at me)?"

"No lo sé. Te vi perder a tu familia y yo... (I don't know. You lost your family and I...)"

"Te culpas a ti mismo por lo que pasó. No deberías hacerlo. Es común que perdamos a nuestros seres queridos por enfermedades y por los abusos de los Padres (You blame yourself for what happened. You should not. It is common for us to lose our loved ones from illness and the abuses of the Padres)."

Metztli put her hands together and said, "Sólo porque sea común no significa que deba aceptarse (Just because it's common, it doesn't mean it should be accepted)."  

Both were silent; the occupants in the infirmary were asleep. Her words echoed in Juvencio's mind. The image of his newborn daughter and his wife was in his mind. They were the only precious things that made the suffering bearable. Still, if his daughter had lived, she would have suffered a cruel fate in the Mission. Although he loved and missed his wife terribly, Juvencio believed she was finally resting.

Death was mercy.

Still, he was surprised that Metztli would have volunteered to suffer in their place. Looking at her, Juvencio couldn't help but notice kindness and strength. Something that was missing in his community. "Me gustaría descansar. Solo quería agradecerte (I would like to rest. I just wanted to thank you)." Metztli nodded; she stood and slowly walked toward the door. When opening the door, Juvencio called out to her; she looked at him. "Por favor hazme un acto más de bondad (Please do me one more act of kindness)."

"¿Sí (Yes)?"

"Nunca olvides de quién vienes (Never forget whom you come from)."

Metztli looked confused, but she nodded, walked out of the room, and closed the door. Juvencio was left alone with the other occupants. Rain began to drip from the skies. Tears dripped from his eyes; Juvencio covered his face as he quietly wept.