Carmen Boullosa: Texas: The Great Theft

In the north they can’t stop talking about John Tanner, the White Indian who’s risen from the grave, going so far as to claim he came over with the Mexicans. In the south, folks who’ve heard of John Tanner claim that the White Indian defended the gringos.

In camp and beyond, folks sing along to their guitars, “Take care, Nepo, don’t let them kill you.”

Nepomuceno pays no heed to these rumors. But it kills him to think folks are going around saying he’s a pansy, that he let them take Lázaro prisoner and didn’t do anything about it.

Nepomuceno begins preparations for another attack on Bruneville, despite Jones’ vehement opposition.

Óscar doesn’t protest, he’s paralyzed. He’s heard that Glevack hid in his oven during the attack. That’s too much to bear. He’s a baker, a peaceful soul becoming a warrior, but his transformation is taking time.

From The Rancher:

“Nepomuceno entered Bruneville with seventy-seven men (and women). Forty-four of these men have been charged by Cameron County Grand Jury; thirty-four are Mexican. That’s not including Mexicans returning from the party, which made up the majority, and who, though they didn’t exactly aid and abet them, acted the fool to provide cover for them.

These seventy-seven people include the leading members of the Robins and the Coal Gang.”

Moonbeam’s funeral causes all sorts of problems in Bruneville. True, she was baptized, but they can’t bury her in the Christian cemetery.

Funeral services are for honoring civilized Texans. So they decide to bury her with the Negroes. But if they bury her with the Negroes she won’t be properly honored, and she certainly ought to be — she died defending Texas against the greasers; burying her with the Christians would be “the right thing,” but it’s not about doing “the right thing,” it’s about maintaining appearances and (as the mayor, Chaste, emphasized) “civilized society.”

After a lot of talk, they don’t even give her a pine coffin. They wrap her in a sheet they found who knows where — it’s contemptible. They toss her in a hole without so much as a prayer. Minister Fear, who baptized her, should have been there but … Fear won’t leave the house because he’s crestfallen, he’s been cuckolded.

As for Caroline, they couldn’t give her a proper burial. She committed suicide. They buried her in a nice coffin, on unblessed land.

Chief Little Rib — chief of the Lipans — hears the news from a messenger. He consults the shaman. Case closed: all commerce with Bruneville is suspended until things calm down. The shaman adds, “You can’t even do business with them when they are calm.”

At the watering hole where the Adventurer and Eleonor have stopped, he lays down to sleep. Eleonor sits down to think. She loses track of time. She begins to fall asleep, too. The Adventurer awakens. He grabs one of her legs, then the other, removing them from her skirts, and falls onto her, whipping his hard dick out of his pants. One, two thrusts. What a relief! He couldn’t wait a moment longer — he thinks, satisfied — it’s been so long since he had a poke, And this ain’t no weapon to keep holstered .

He puts away his weapon. He gets up. Without turning to look at Eleonor he goes off to look for brushwood to build a fire, he’s hungry.

Eleonor looks like a ghost. All her fragile beauty has disappeared. She doesn’t dare cry. She doesn’t even dare look at the Adventurer. She hardly dares breathe. Now she does look like the honorable wife of Minister Fear.

She tries hard not to dwell on what she’s feeling, That was so horrible, so empty, how can it be …

“My countrymen — I am moved to speak to you by a sense of profound indignation, the affection and esteem I hold for you, and my desire that you should enjoy the rights and protection denied to us, violating the most sacred of laws.

“Mexicans! When the State of Texas began to receive the recognition accorded to it by its sovereignty as part of the Union, bands of vampires, disguised as men, arrived and scattered throughout the State, with nothing other than corrupt hearts and perverse intentions to their names, laughing heartily as they foretold the pillaging and butchery dictated by their black hearts. Many of you have been imprisoned, hunted, and chased down like animals, and your nearest and dearest murdered. For you, there has been no justice in this world, you have been at the mercy of your oppressors, whose fury toward you grows daily.

“But these monsters consider themselves justified because they don’t belong to La Raza, who, according to them, don’t belong to the human race.

“Mexicans! My part is taken; the voice of revelation whispers to me that to me is entrusted the work of breaking the chains of your slavery, and that the Lord will enable me, with powerful arm, to fight against our enemies, in compliance with the requirements of that Sovereign Majesty, who, from this day forward, will hold us under His protection.”

The Two Eights, Pedro and Pablo, lead the first operation. For three nights they steal boats from anywhere they can (mostly from Bruneville, but they bring some small ones from the little docks in Matasánchez and its neighboring ranches as well), they take them to the Old Dock in Matasánchez, and there, with the help of Úrsulo, Connecticut, and a group of peasants who have supported Nepomuceno from the very start, they hide the boats on land.

Guitars, violins, and voices rise in song to Nepomuceno on both sides of the river. “Because he’s a wealthy rancher, he comes from good seed.”

Something is giving Nepomuceno terrible insomnia. He thinks of calling Jones and using the time to plan (or add to the proclamation — but it’s already so long that Juan Prensa has had to fetch extra reams of paper — it looks like they’ll have to fold it: “Maybe even stitch it”—“No, don’t stitch it, this isn’t woman’s work,”—“Then bind it like a book,”—“Fine, but … everyone needs to read it! Not like the Bible or some boring romance for women!”—“Then shorten it, Nepomuceno, don’t keep adding to it!”) — but he doesn’t call for anyone, this anxiety he feels can’t be shared … He thinks of La Desconocida, he’d like to call for her, for a brief moment he’s pricked by the needle of desire … but that would be beneath him, that woman’s for lovemaking, not forcing … besides, she’s not the filly he wants … what he wants is his woman … his wife … here … the only one who knows how … Isa … despite the fact he’s furious with her — how could he not be? She really screwed things up riding into town like that … Who in their right mind walks straight into a lion’s den?

The clouds are solid and white against the dark blue sky lit by the moon. The same moon, sick and tired of bursting with light, causes wolves to dream about the pleasure of sinking their fangs into a cow’s flesh, bloody meat.

Telegram: MINISTER FEAR IS MOVING IMMEDIATELY. STOP.

Another, from Mexico’s central government to Matasánchez (which lie far apart, that’s why there are so many complaints from the Far North, “They don’t even glance in our direction.”): DON’T LET NEPOMUCENO BREAK THE LAW.

The telegraphist is being run off his feet and he’s feeling down. He’s tired, “Everyone takes me for granted.”

From a conversation in Bruneville, in Spanish: “From now on, have no doubt, Nepomuceno himself will make sure the law is upheld, time’s up for the gringos.” “La Raza’s hour has come.”

On the fourth day Nepomuceno’s men fill all the boats to the brim. Once more they mobilize at night.

Carlos the Cuban, along with three other Eagles, takes Mrs. Big’s Hotel by force. They take up positions at the windows, waiting impatiently for the signal — a flare on the river — to fire at the U.S. troops who are guarding the dock, fast asleep in their uniforms.