The Dagger - Sequel To John Steinbeck's The Pearl

I

A ditch. A shallow hole in the ground. No casket. Merely thrown into it like garbage into the trash, with no hesitation or second thought. But it was fitting. They reaped the labors of the land, and now they would be giving back after death. As the father had always said, "All come from dust, and to dust all return."

Kino stood at the edge of the shallow hole starring at the two still figures, lying, wrapped in rags. Juana lay, with the infant wrapped in her arms. Only two days after Coyotito had been killed, she died of grief. She had refused the meager subsistence that they lived on and refused drink. She merely curled up and rocked back and forth, like a child in the night of evil spirits. She did not sleep nor did she speak. Her eyes, full of the wisdom and song of her people had gone, the flame of life snuffed, as quickly as Coyotito had been. She was a ghost of herself, a husk with no soul.

And now as Kino stood over the shallow ditch, droplets of water began to fall from the heavens above. Juan Thomas glanced at Kino, knowing that he must cover the bodies soon. But Kino did not stir at the first drop of rain. He knew it was disgraceful to leave bodies in the rain, as his culture had instilled in him. But he could not bring himself to avert his eyes. His mouth was dry. His chest throbbed, not any pain Kino had felt before. This pain, he had felt when his father died, and when Coyotito died, and now seeing Juana there, he felt that pain again.

A new song began in Kino's ears. The raindrops were the rhythm, Juan Thomas' shoveling the beat. It was not a common song, like that of the family, or a heart-quickening song, like the Song of Evil. No, this was slow and mournful. It was the Song of Sorrow, known only to those who suffer great losses.

And as Kino watched, he pondered over how he had lost so much. The scorpion bite that the doctor refused to treat. Then he had found the pearl. At a time that seemed long past, he had looked upon its majestic gleaming surface with hope. Now, the faintest trace of the Song of Evil played in his ears when he thought about it. It had destroyed him, for the pearl buyers had tried to cheat him, so he had ventured to the capital. During his quest, his only son had died. Then, even after he had torn the pearl from his soul, he suffered.

His canoe had been destroyed by the dark ones, and his house reduced to ash. And ash blends with the dirt of the earth, like the dead who have passed onto the afterlife. Like Juana and Coyotito. Kino stirred for the first time in hours and looked around the dark, wet night. What was he to do now? Become like the beggars in front of the church? Wallow in self-pity for the rest of eternity?

Kino clenched his fists and gritted his teeth. No. He still had some vestige of honor and pride left. He would rebuild, he would survive. He owed that much to Coyotito. And to Juana.

Unconsciously, his hand strayed toward the knife on his hip. Then to the rifle on his back. His new life would begin with avenging his family's death.