Good Water by John D. Nesbitt

Author:John D. Nesbitt
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Gale, Cengage Learning
Published: 2016-05-20T16:00:00+00:00

The last wagon came dragging into camp as the night grew dark. It took its place near the others, but as the camp did not have any definite formation, the layout was a matter of where the people unhitched the animals and dropped the tongue. The camp area was strewn with bundles and bags that people had carried, items they had taken out of the wagons for the night, and a few packs that had been carried on the backs of burros. Each family had its own little space, and the group had a larger common area where most of them gathered around a fire. Raimundo and Alejo, who had seemed to be the keepers of the wood in the village, had brought along a supply of firewood.

Tommy could feel the anxiety and the fatigue that ran through the people, yet he was impressed by their cheerfulness as they sat around the fire. Faustino and his brother had set up two large cast-iron skillets and were frying quantities of cut-up pork. The tantalizing aroma drifted on the air along with smoke from the fire. As people passed around plates of fried meat and stacks of heated tortillas, they exchanged comments in a friendly tone.

Not everyone sat around the fire. Some stayed in their little campsites and ate from their own store of food, and others took hot food from the fire back to their families. No one seemed concerned about where the food came from or where it went. Tommy assumed the meat came off of one of the two pigs he had helped butcher, and he could see that it was being served in liberal portions. Twice he had taken a count of the people, and each time he had come up with twenty-seven in addition to himself. Judging from the rate at which the pozole had disappeared, he thought they would be down to the ribs of the first pig by this time tomorrow.

The fire burned down as people had their fill and the skillets were set aside. The embers were beginning to fade and ash over. Eusebia and her sister, Alejo’s wife, held hands and began to sing a song. It had a slow melody and a mournful tone, and some of the others joined in. The only words Tommy understood were Santa Maria, but he felt the spirit, if not the message, of the song. He felt as if he joined the people in an appeal for consolation and comfort in a time of sadness.

When the song was ended, a muttering began to spread from the smaller groups by the wagons to the larger group around the dying campfire. Everyone had turned to the west, where a glow along the rim of the prairie was visible from a long ways off. It was the glow of a large fire, and it held the people’s attention. Tommy picked out the words pueblo, casa, and Cooshmon. The faces that had been almost happy for a little while looked stricken now, and tears appeared in the eyes of the two sisters who had sung the beautiful song.

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