Now César’s image was becoming more precise in Fernando’s memory. He was a mediocre student and Fernando had had to scold him on occasion for his negligence. But, after all, he was no different from the others. Many of them who had the same defects managed to complete their education.

“And what led you to make this decision?”

César stammered; it was difficult for him to say.

“The Instituto isn’t the same since you left.”

Ulloa smiled bitterly.

“I didn’t leave of my own volition.”

“Anyway, it isn’t the same any more.”

César was silent; he couldn’t clarify what he meant.

“All right. Let’s say you discover you don’t have a vocation to become a professional, so you give up your, studies. What does your family think?”

“Before they find out, I want to make myself independent, earn a salary.”

“The salary I’m offering won’t be enough for you. You’re used to certain comforts, certain luxuries.”

“Others start out with less.”

Fernando shrugged.

“I assume you know what you’re doing, but I can’t understand what would make you leave a secure position and throw yourself into a difficult life in the company of a social outcast. Have you thought about the consequences joining me will have for you?”

César gave a cautious smile.

“I know what these towns are like, ingeniero. Once they have it in for someone they don’t stop until they’ve finished him off. Why do you think I had to leave Comitán?”

It was a story of pettiness and humiliation that César told in its entirety, without hiding any details.

The Santiago family lived in Comitán and in not very remote times had owned a flourishing butcher shop in the neighborhood known as La Pila, a lusty district filled with carefree people who saw many possibilities in life. The fiestas in honor of San Caralampio, the neighborhood’s patron saint, were the most famous in the area. There was an extravagance of fireworks and gambling booths, and the whole town and even neighboring towns came for the parades of flowers to the church. But a Pileño must never seek to leave La Pila or become part of the town’s high society because he would be ignominiously rejected. Pileño you were born, Pileño you stayed.

This was the mistake of Don Timoteo Santiago, father of César (whose true name wasn’t César, but Caralampio, after La Pila’s patron saint). Don Timoteo was a man with some drive who wanted to go up in the world, by what means he didn’t much care. When the persecution of the Church began and he saw an opportunity, he didn’t let it go to waste.