Very gently, so as not to keep him from confiding anything more, Padre Manuel asked Xaw if he hadn’t also confessed and given Holy Communion to the parishioners. The sacristan said no. By way of an excuse, he said that the brujos were in charge of inquiring about sins and establishing the conditions for their forgiveness. And the brujos would, very justifiably, have become angry if anyone who wasn’t one of them had tried to compete with them.

“And Holy Communion?” Padre Manuel persisted.

Xaw had not administered it. He had of course seen on innumerable occasions how the priests made the host, but he had never hit on the recipe that would enable him to make it himself.

Padre Manuel paused for an instant at such simplicity. Inside, he was boiling over with anger. Anger at the ignorance of this man whose proximity to the altar and familiarity with the holy services had taught him nothing. And anger, too, at the laziness or stupidity of those who had not managed to catechize even the one person who was in the best position to receive their lessons.

As the days passed, he undertook to change Xaw’s opinions. With the relentless zeal of a man who has little outlet for his need for activity, Padre Manuel endeavored to instruct Xaw on the most elementary notions of doctrine. For that purpose, after saying mass (a mass that reverberated in an empty church because it was the hour when all the town’s inhabitants were at their chores), Padre Manuel invited Xaw to share his breakfast. It was difficult to convince the Indian that he could, that he had to sit at the table with the priest and not on the floor as was his custom. Xaw obeyed but without ever quite being able to conceal the unease the situation caused him. He barely managed to eat. He prepared each mouthful with exaggerated meticulousness, then swallowed it quickly without taking the time to savor it, and as soon as Padre Manuel was distracted for an instant, he seized the opportunity to take a ball of posol surreptitiously from his knapsack, then eagerly awaited the priest’s briefest absence to prepare it and drink it. Padre Manuel became aware of this one day when he returned earlier than Xaw had anticipated and Xaw didn’t have time to hide the jicara of posol, which was still full.