1982 Yearbook
Source URL
Title
1982 Yearbook
Description
right?'
'"Si, senor!' Miguel answered. He
had hobbled two kilometers on a
homemade cane just to be made
young again.
'"And you wish to be 24. That is
correct?'
"This time Miguel was too frightened to answer, so he nodded his
head.
"'Miguel,' the stranger continued,
'you are the eldest one here. To make
my magic work, I must cut out the
heart of the oldest man here and put
it into the broth. Then all the other
men will drink it and at once they
will become young. Jorge and Juan,
quickly bring Miguel up to the table
and hold him tightly during the ceremony!'
"A moan greeted the stranger's
words. It died away, and then it was
picked up by the wind and carried
through the town, growing ever
louder. The full yellow moon had
paled to an angry white. And the
night — the night that was made for
happiness and love had changed to a
night of terror.
"Jorge and I didn't move. And yet
— and yet, there we were leading
Miguel to the table. How did that
happen? To this day we do not know.
Miguel was too frightened to resist.
He stumbled between us to the table
— except now we could see it looked
more like an altar. The stranger
reached under his long white garment and drew out a machete. It was
so evil looking that we groaned.
"It was while the stranger was testing the sharpness of the blade that
Miguel stopped trembling. Suddenly
he spoke. Where did he get such
courage? A strange light danced in
his eyes, and he announced loudly, so
that everyone could hear, 'Senor
Stranger, there has been a terrible
mistake! I am not seventy-two. I am,
I am twenty-four!!' Wonder crept
into his voice, and we all noticed how
straight he was standing.
"Slowly the stranger nodded his
head. He motioned us to release Miguel. Solemnly he said, 'It is the
magic. Already it is working.' Indeed, Miguel looked like a young
man as he walked back to his place.
"The stranger looked at the list
again. This time he called, 'Jose
Diaz! You are seventy. You wish to
become twenty-six. Jose, come forward!'
"Jose lurched toward the stranger
and the altar. The moon had been
struggling with the clouds. How it
shrugged them aside and bathed the
machete in a cold, bright light. Jose's
eyes were riveted to the knife. Still,
he kept walking towards us like one
who had had too much tequila but
must go back to the cantina for one
last drink. Then, just as he reached
the spot where Miguel had stood, he,
too, stopped. His voice was a hoarse
whisper. 'Senor Stranger, when I
walked to this field tonight, I was an
old man. My eyes could not see so
well, and my feet would not always
go where I wanted them to go.' In
the pause that followed he looked at
his neighbors clumped together
watching him eagerly. 'Now — now
I have already been made young. I
am no longer an old man of seventy.
I am but twenty-six!'
"It did not take long for the stranger
to go through the whole list. One by
one, as he read their names, the men
came to the altar, stopping always at
the same place where Miguel Vargas
had stopped.
"The stranger kept the machete in
his hand, thoughtfully running the
keen edge back and forth between
his thumb and finger. Back and
forth, back and forth. A spell was on
us all, so that each man was rooted to
that one spot watching the knife and
the stranger's hand. He could feel
the sharp point pierce his chest, and
the warm blood running out to meet
the cold metal. Oh yes! We watched
each man. We shared his terror.
Then, senor doctor, it was always the
same. Each man would shake his
head and smile. He was remembering that he had nothing to worry
about. He did not have to fear the
machete or the stranger. We could
see the excitement shining in his
face. He was young again!"
For a few minutes they sat silently
side by side. A vulture circled over
the valley, and they watched it drop
lower, searching for food. Reluctantly the doctor rose and took the reins
of his horse. Turning to Juan, he
studied his face for a moment or two
before shaking his hand. "Your son
will be better manana, Juan. And
you will be young for many years to
come. Truly your curandero had
strong medicine."
He paused once more at the curve in
the dusty trail, shaded his eyes and
looked back at Juan. Then nudging
his horse forward with his knees, he
called, "Adios, joven!" and turned
the corner.
THE
HONEYCOMB
124
'"Si, senor!' Miguel answered. He
had hobbled two kilometers on a
homemade cane just to be made
young again.
'"And you wish to be 24. That is
correct?'
"This time Miguel was too frightened to answer, so he nodded his
head.
"'Miguel,' the stranger continued,
'you are the eldest one here. To make
my magic work, I must cut out the
heart of the oldest man here and put
it into the broth. Then all the other
men will drink it and at once they
will become young. Jorge and Juan,
quickly bring Miguel up to the table
and hold him tightly during the ceremony!'
"A moan greeted the stranger's
words. It died away, and then it was
picked up by the wind and carried
through the town, growing ever
louder. The full yellow moon had
paled to an angry white. And the
night — the night that was made for
happiness and love had changed to a
night of terror.
"Jorge and I didn't move. And yet
— and yet, there we were leading
Miguel to the table. How did that
happen? To this day we do not know.
Miguel was too frightened to resist.
He stumbled between us to the table
— except now we could see it looked
more like an altar. The stranger
reached under his long white garment and drew out a machete. It was
so evil looking that we groaned.
"It was while the stranger was testing the sharpness of the blade that
Miguel stopped trembling. Suddenly
he spoke. Where did he get such
courage? A strange light danced in
his eyes, and he announced loudly, so
that everyone could hear, 'Senor
Stranger, there has been a terrible
mistake! I am not seventy-two. I am,
I am twenty-four!!' Wonder crept
into his voice, and we all noticed how
straight he was standing.
"Slowly the stranger nodded his
head. He motioned us to release Miguel. Solemnly he said, 'It is the
magic. Already it is working.' Indeed, Miguel looked like a young
man as he walked back to his place.
"The stranger looked at the list
again. This time he called, 'Jose
Diaz! You are seventy. You wish to
become twenty-six. Jose, come forward!'
"Jose lurched toward the stranger
and the altar. The moon had been
struggling with the clouds. How it
shrugged them aside and bathed the
machete in a cold, bright light. Jose's
eyes were riveted to the knife. Still,
he kept walking towards us like one
who had had too much tequila but
must go back to the cantina for one
last drink. Then, just as he reached
the spot where Miguel had stood, he,
too, stopped. His voice was a hoarse
whisper. 'Senor Stranger, when I
walked to this field tonight, I was an
old man. My eyes could not see so
well, and my feet would not always
go where I wanted them to go.' In
the pause that followed he looked at
his neighbors clumped together
watching him eagerly. 'Now — now
I have already been made young. I
am no longer an old man of seventy.
I am but twenty-six!'
"It did not take long for the stranger
to go through the whole list. One by
one, as he read their names, the men
came to the altar, stopping always at
the same place where Miguel Vargas
had stopped.
"The stranger kept the machete in
his hand, thoughtfully running the
keen edge back and forth between
his thumb and finger. Back and
forth, back and forth. A spell was on
us all, so that each man was rooted to
that one spot watching the knife and
the stranger's hand. He could feel
the sharp point pierce his chest, and
the warm blood running out to meet
the cold metal. Oh yes! We watched
each man. We shared his terror.
Then, senor doctor, it was always the
same. Each man would shake his
head and smile. He was remembering that he had nothing to worry
about. He did not have to fear the
machete or the stranger. We could
see the excitement shining in his
face. He was young again!"
For a few minutes they sat silently
side by side. A vulture circled over
the valley, and they watched it drop
lower, searching for food. Reluctantly the doctor rose and took the reins
of his horse. Turning to Juan, he
studied his face for a moment or two
before shaking his hand. "Your son
will be better manana, Juan. And
you will be young for many years to
come. Truly your curandero had
strong medicine."
He paused once more at the curve in
the dusty trail, shaded his eyes and
looked back at Juan. Then nudging
his horse forward with his knees, he
called, "Adios, joven!" and turned
the corner.
THE
HONEYCOMB
124
Rights
St. Ambrose University, 518 W. Locust St., Davenport, IA 52803
Identifier
http://cdm16810.contentdm.oclc.org/cdm/ref/collection/p16810coll2/id/7099