Marta's Daughter by Gordon Rottman

Author:Gordon Rottman [Rottman, Gordon L.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Gordon Rottman

Chapter 22

They first went to The Shrine of Our Lady of Guadalupe Church. Arsenia knew this was where Yaqui Ana’s daughter was, but she said nothing. They made arrangements for the five burials and left money. They hoped to return by the afternoon for the funeral. The sky hung heavily.

Montoya accompanied them alone and urged them to hasten to the Clínica Hospital Ejeza.

Montoya had to return to the Polo Club before he was missed. “I will make certain the guards do not harass any of you, and I will come back to check on you.” He departed with that jaunty salute.

The girls, including Chavela, were treated by a nursing sister. They had to wait for the doctors to arrive before their more serious wounds were treated.

Arsenia came to as they lifted her from the gurney onto a ward bed. She didn’t want to be awakened, it was so peaceful when she was under the blessing of ether; no dreams. She remembered her eyes fluttering shut as she tried to count backward and seemingly instantly awakened with great reluctance. The pain was gone, and she only wanted to slip back into her dreamless sleep.

Someone was patting her cheek. Annoyed, she jerked her face away. “You need to wake up my child. Breathe deep, speed your heart up.”

She didn’t want to, but she took deep breathes and batted her eyes like a flirting whore. The light hurt her eyes. “Water,” she asked suddenly thirsty. The nurse lifted her head gently and let her drink all she wanted.

She didn’t remember what they had told her of her wounds…or had they?

Her left arm and leg felt number than the rest. She looked down at herself. She wore only an underbodice and thigh-length drawers. Her upper left arm bore two bandages and her thigh another—the drawer’s leg was rolled higher.

Arsenia’s mind abruptly grew cluttered and confused as everything clambered back into focus, the shootout with banditos, the fires, Helinda shot down, Ignazio’s execution, the young girl’s insanely ruthless murder, being thrown out of the Polo Club, the girls cold and on the edge of panic.

Her eyes teared. What were Yaqui Ana’s wounds, and the others? Where were they? What would become of all of them?

Lupita suddenly appeared beside her. “Are you not a sight? Are you in pain, do you need anything?”

“I am fine. What has happened to the girls left at the cantina, what can you tell me?”

“We do not know, yet.”

“How is Yaqui Ana?”

“A bullet nicked her left side. It is not bad but needed ten sutures. Chavela has a deep bullet cut on her right hip needing seven sutures.”

“What about me?”

“The doctor will be here… Oh, here he is.”

A professor looking older man appeared with a starkly white mustache and beard not near as bushy as the white fringe circumnavigating his bald crown. She wished for a sheet to cover herself, but the doctor was checking the bandages already. “I am Dr. Mèndez, señorita. How do you feel? Any excessive dizziness or nausea?”

“I only feel tired and numb, Doctor.

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