How could she possibly be a hundred years old and still put on her red “lipistick” to go to Mass every morning and walk a mile to the market for her own groceries? When you stopped in at her own little traila, she was busy embroidering with perfect eyesight a beautiful mantel for a bride-to-be, keeping up with her favorite telenovelas on Spanish cable T.V. in between “patients,” and ready with a pot of coffee and plate of beans to make you feel right at home.

Sofia entrusted her daughter, whom she referred to as una inocente—despite her lively history in every cowboy bar in el Rio Abajo—to the centennial old woman, and doña Felicia graciously assured the preoccupied mother that she would keep an eye on Caridad, adding that she did not see nothing too unusual about Caridad insisting on keeping her young mare with her, with or without a stall.

Corazón had become Caridad’s only companion. “Los animales entienden más que la gente a veces,” doáa Felicia said to Sofia. Sofia was more concerned for Caridad’s Corazón, who had never been away from their home in Tome, than for her daughter, who had shown an uncanny ability to survive anything. Caridad’s Corazón, however, was easily frightened by strangers, the revving up of car engines and other loud sudden noises, even the playful shrieks of small children.

“Just make sure she remembers to keep her Corazón tied up, so it don’t take off,” Sofia asked doña Felicia, who nodded and gestured with liver-spotted hands that Sofia could count on her.

After Caridad’s physical recuperation, she had run a fever for many weeks. Loca and Sofia spoon-fed her and took care of all her needs until Caridad was strong enough to get up and do things on her own. During her convalescence Caridad rarely spoke, but they knew that she understood all that was said to her because she responded with little nods and shakes of the head.

However, they also knew that she had changed in an even bigger way when, on four distinct occasions before she left home, she drifted off into a trancelike state and took on an otherworldly expression. Each time, both Sofia and Loca were witnesses.

The first time, Sofia was feeding Caridad her usual breakfast of blue corn atole and one huevo tibio and suddenly, her mouth still open, Caridad seemed to go paralyzed. Loca was sitting nearby, combing Bringraj hair oil through Caridad’s chestnut brown locks, which had gone brittle from a year of being bedridden. She couldn’t see Caridad’s hypnotized expression, but suspected immediately that something was wrong. “Mom?” Loca said when Caridad abruptly “went away” (as Loca called it later), and Sofia started to gently shake Caridad by the shoulder, but she did not respond.