Jose Amador Santana, a native of Tonaya, Jalisco, is both a composer of romantic songs and a storyteller. Most of his stories take place in and around Tonaya, and involve characters-like all of us-who get caught up in the unexpected and the dramatic, with varying results. Dwelling on his life in Mexico, Santana has recently published Toward the Memories, a collection of 18 short stories, expertly translated by Ajijic resident and teacher, Elizabeth Ruth Sellars. "The mind is a barrel where memories are aged, to drink later," the author states, saying about his book, "I open the faucet of my memories for you, and invite you to savor these stories."
Several copies of Santana's Memories are available at the Lake Chapala Society's library and on sale at the Bugambilia bookstore, also at Sandi's in Guadalajara. Thanks to the author, we include in this issue of the Review one of the "aged memories."
The Cure
By Jose Amador Santana
Ruben, a young man, had been hit hard by poverty. Now, recently married, he didn't want his family to suffer. Because he looked for more income to gain respectability, he took his mule to San Pedro Toxin, in the foothills of the Cerro Grande mountain. He went to buy coffee beans, which he would later take to San Gabriel to toast and to grind with cinnamon and brown sugar. Then he would sell the coffee.
That noonday, as he arrived at the community of Los Otates, the local land boss in charge of coffee sales greeted him. Ruben was also met by the hot, humid climate of the region.
The community leader invited him to sit in a hammock and drink a mixture of mescal and Pepsi, while they talked business. As they finished discussing the details of their negotiations and sealed the deal with another swig of the same local brew, a scorpion climbed up the back of Ruben's pant leg. When he felt the sting, he shook the animal out of his pant leg and smashed it with his boot. He didn't worry too much about the scorpion sting, as he had been stung before without suffering any grave consequences.
But the land boss thought differently. He rose and examined the dead creature with a stick, moving it from side to side. Finally he said to Ruben, "My friend, it's very important to know the sex of the scorpion, because if it is female, the poison is more dangerous, sometimes even fatal. Not to make matters worse, I suggest we go to see Panfila, the ranch midwife, to see what kind of cure she can give you."
When they met Panfila and explained the reason for their visit, she invited them into her hut. Ruben soon realized that, even though in her forties, she still had a sensual look. At that moment the woman took control of the situation, asked the land boss to leave her alone with the sick man and to send a messenger to Toliman for an anti-venom serum.
Ruben began to feel the effects of the bite: waves of suffocating heat caused him to sweat profusely, he began to be delirious, his throat felt full of hairs, his hands became numb and his mouth dry, and his legs turned to limp rags. He described his symptoms to Panfila, who gave him an injection of confidence when she told him, "Don't worry. I have the cure, even for snake bites. Take off all of your clothes except your underwear and climb onto the bed."
Panfila immediately brought some pieces of fermented pineapple from the kitchen and put them on the sting. Then she lit the charcoal fire, and while the coals heated, she left the hut. Ten minutes later she returned with a clay jug, telling him, "Drink this down! It is breast milk, and you will notice how the colostrum will defend you from the animal's poison."
Ruben, perched on the simple reed bed, watched the woman throw pieces of incense into the fire. A cloud of purifying smoke filled the room as she left. She returned with a jar of holy water in one hand and a crucifix in the other. After sprinkling him with a few drops of the holy water and whispering a prayer, she disappeared again, soon returning without the religious symbols.
"How do you feel?"
"I think I'm better," he replied.
As she continued whispering prayers, she modestly took off her shawl. Then she removed her blouse and skirt, standing naked. Ruben saw that her body, even though showing traces of the years, retained remnants of beauty. A mouthful of saliva opened his throat, leaving it as soft as velvet.
Panfila approached him and climbed onto the bed. She lay at his side and said to him, "Ruben, in order for the cure to take effect, you have to make use of me."
Because it was a case of life or death, the patient, feeling a little embarrassed, began to follow her orders. As he caressed her, his hands began to lose their stiffness. He even breathed deeply as his nasal passages expanded. He kissed her and found in her lips the healing waters to alleviate the dryness in his mouth. He found complete relief when, heated and sweating, he penetrated her body. Between his panting and convulsions, the evil passed into her.
Ruben felt much better. With the naked healer still at his side, the indolence of time brought them another sickness: lust. It urged them to entwine again and satiate their desire, making the cure complete.
Ruben noticed the sun fading, so he said, "Panfila, I have to go now. Here are twenty pesos. Thank you for the painstaking care you put into my treatment."
With his load of 100 pounds of coffee beans, he set out on his return trip to San Gabriel.
