Chapters (44)
Catalina knows that gaze, responds to it. For the first time she does not stray onto false paths. She knows what must be said and finds the right words. Neither babbling nor enigmas. And the revelation does not announce itself as it has before, as it always has, from within a delirium. Catalina keeps her senses; she is in control of herself; she is free. The stone of the sepulcher has been pushed aside.
“We have all reached the end of the story with the Ladino. We have suffered injustice and persecution and adversity. Perhaps some of our ancestors sinned and that is why this tribute was exacted from us. We gave what we had and paid the debt. But the Ladino wanted more, always more. He has dried up the marrow of our bones with work; he has robbed us of our possessions; he has made us guess at the orders and punishments he gives in a foreign language. And we endured the suffering without protest because no sign told us that it was enough.
“But suddenly the gods showed themselves, the dark powers spoke. And it is their will that we become equal to the Ladino who grew haughty in the possession of his Christ.
“Now we, too, have a Christ. He was not born in vain and has not suffered and died in vain. His birth, his suffering and his death have placed the Tzotzil, the Chamula, the Indian on the same level as the Ladino. If the Ladino threatens us we must not flee but confront him. If he pursues us we must turn to face him.
“What can we fear? On our heads the blood of baptism has fallen. It is said that those who are baptized with blood instead of water will not die.
“Let us go out to meet the Ladino. Let us defy him, and we will see how he runs and hides. But if he resists we will join together in the fight. We are equals now that our Christ offsets his Christ.
“You women must not tremble for your husbands and your sons. They are going to the place where men are measured. And they will return dragging victory by the hair. Whole, even if they have many wounds. Resurrected, after the necessary end. Because it is said that none of us will die.”
XXXIV
CHAPTER XXXIV
THE CRY WITH WHICH Domingo Díaz Puiljá died on the Cross resonated into every corner of the Tzotzil region. It echoed in the air, desolate as a hunting horn, awakening the men’s rapacious and oppressive instincts.