Hey Toni-eeeeee. Huloooooo Antonioforous!” A voice called.
At first I thought I was dreaming. I was fishing, and sitting on a rock; the sun beating on my back had made me sleepy. I had been thinking how Ultima’s medicine had cured my uncle and how he was well and could work again. I had been thinking how the medicine of the doctors and of the priest had failed. In my mind I could not understand how the power of God could fail. But it had.
“Toni-eeeeee!” the voice called again.
I opened my eyes and peered into the green brush of the river. Silently, like a deer, the figure of Cico emerged. He was barefoot, he made no noise. He moved to the rock and squatted in front of me. I guess it was then that he decided to trust me with the secret of the golden carp.
“Cico?” I said. He nodded his dark, freckled face. “Samuel told you about the golden carp,” he said. “Yes,” I replied.
“Have you ever fished for carp?” he asked. “Here in the river, or anywhere?”
“No,” I shook my head. I felt as if I was making a solemn oath. “Do you want to see the golden carp?” he whispered.
“I have hoped to see him all summer,” I said breathlessly. “Do you believe the golden carp is a god?” he asked.
The commandment of the Lord said, Thou shalt have no other gods before me…
I could not lie. I knew he would find the lie in my eyes if I did. But maybe there were other gods? Why had the power of God failed to cure my uncle?
“I am a Catholic,” I stuttered, “I can believe only in the God of the church—” I looked down. I was sorry because now he would not take me to see the golden carp. For a long time Cico did not speak.
“At least you are truthful, Tony,” he said. He stood up. The quiet waters of the river washed gently southward. “We have never taken a non-believer to see him,” he said solemnly.
“But I want to believe,” I looked up and pleaded, “it’s just that I have to believe in Him?” I pointed across the river to where the cross of the church showed above the tree tops.
“Perhaps—” he mused for a long time. “Will you make an oath?” he asked.
“Yes,” I answered. But the commandment said, Thou shalt not take the Lord’s name in vain.
“Swear by the cross of the church that you will never hunt or kill a carp.” He pointed to the cross. I had never sworn on the cross before. I knew that if you broke your oath it was the biggest sin a man could commit, because God was witness to the swearing on his name. But I would keep my promise! I would never break my oath!
“I swear,” I said.
“Come!” Cico was off, wading across the river. I followed. I had waded across that river many times, but I never felt an urgency like today. I was excited about seeing the magical golden carp.
“The golden carp will be swimming down the creek today,” Cico whispered. We scrambled up the bank and through the thick brush. We climbed the steep hill to the town and headed towards the school. I never came up this street to go to school and so the houses were not familiar to me. We paused at one place.
“Do you know who lives there?” Cico pointed at a green arbor. There was a fence with green vines on it, and many trees. Every house in town had trees, but I had never seen a place so green. It was thick like some of the jungles I saw in the movies in town.
“No,” I said. We drew closer and peered through the dense curtain of green that surrounded a small adobe hut.
“Narciso,” Cico whispered.
Narciso had been on the bridge the night Lupito was murdered. He had tried to reason with the men; he had tried to save Lupito’s life. He had been
called a drunk.
“My father and my mother know him,” I said. I could not take my eyes from the garden that surrounded the small house. Every kind of fruit and vegetable I knew seemed to grow in the garden, and there was even more abundance here than on my uncles’ farms.
“I know,” Cico said, “they are from the llano—”
“I have never seen such a place,” I whispered. Even the air of the garden was sweet to smell.
“The garden of Narciso,” Cico said with reverence, “is envied by all— Would you like to taste its fruits?”
“We can’t,” I said. It was a sin to take anything without permission. “Narciso is my friend,” Cico said. He reached through the green wall
and a secret latch opened an ivy-laden door. We walked into the garden. Cico closed the door behind him and said, “Narciso is in jail. The sheriff found him drunk.”
I was fascinated by the garden. I forgot about seeing the golden carp. The air was cool and clear, not dusty and hot like the street. Somewhere I heard the sound of gurgling water.
“Somewhere here there is a spring,” Cico said, “I don’t know where.
That is what makes the garden so green. That and the magic of Narciso—” I was bewildered by the garden. Everywhere I looked there were fruit-
laden trees and rows and rows of vegetables. I knew the earth was fruitful because I had seen my uncles make it bear in abundance; but I never realized it could be like this! The ground was soft to walk on. The fragrance of sun-dazzling flowers was deep, and soft, and beautiful.
“The garden of Narciso,” I whispered.
“Narciso is my friend,” Cico intoned. He pulled some carrots from the soft, dark earth and we sat down to eat.
“I cannot,” I said. It was silent and peaceful in the garden. I felt that someone was watching us.
“It is all right,” Cico said.
And although I did not feel good about it, I ate the golden carrot. I had never eaten anything sweeter or juicier in my life.
“Why does Narciso drink?” I asked. “To forget,” Cico answered.
“Does he know about the golden carp?” I asked.
“The magic people all know about the coming day of the golden carp,” Cico answered. His bright eyes twinkled. “Do you know how Narciso plants?” he asked.
“No,” I answered. I had always thought farmers were sober men. I could not imagine a drunk man planting and reaping such fruits!
“By the light of the moon,” Cico whispered. “Like my uncles, the Lunas—”
“In the spring Narciso gets drunk,” Cico continued. “He stays drunk until the bad blood of spring is washed away. Then the moon of planting comes over the elm trees and shines on the horde of last year’s seeds—It is then that he gathers the seeds and plants. He dances as he plants, and he sings. He scatters the seeds by moonlight, and they fall and grow—The garden is like Narciso, it is drunk.”
“My father knows Narciso,” I said. The story Cico had told me was fascinating. It seemed that the more I knew about people the more I knew about the strange magic hidden in their hearts.
“In this town, everybody knows everybody,” Cico said. “Do you know everyone?” I asked.
“Uh-huh,” he nodded.
“You know Jasón’s Indian?” “Yes.”
“Do you know Ultima?” I asked.
“I know about her cure,” he said. “It was good. Come on now, let’s be on our way. The golden carp will be swimming soon—”
We slipped out of the coolness of the garden into the hot, dusty street.
On the east side of the school building was a barren playground with a basketball goal. The gang was playing basketball in the hot sun.
“Does the gang know about the golden carp?” I asked as we approached the group.
“Only Samuel,” Cico said, “only Samuel can be trusted.” “Why do you trust me?” I asked. He paused and looked at me.
“Because you are a fisherman,” he said. “There are no rules on who we trust, Tony, there is just a feeling. The Indian told Samuel the story; Narciso told me; now we tell you. I have a feeling someone, maybe Ultima, would have told you. We all share—”
“Hey!” Ernie called, “you guys want to play!” They ran towards us.
“Nah,” Cico said. He turned away. He did not face them. “Hi, Tony,” they greeted me.
“Hey, you guys headed for Blue Lake? Let’s go swimming,” Florence suggested.
“It’s too hot to play,” Horse griped. He was dripping with sweat. “Hey, Tony, is it true what they say? Is there a bruja at your house?”
Ernie asked.
“¡A bruja!” “¡Chingada!” “¡A la veca!” “No,” I said simply.
“My father said she cursed someone and three days later that person changed into a frog—”
“Hey! Is that the old lady that goes to church with your family!” Bones shrieked.
“Let’s go,” Cico said.
“Knock it off, you guys, are we going to play or not!” Red pleaded. Ernie spun the basketball on his finger. He was standing close to me and grinning as the ball spun.
“Hey, Tony, can you make the ball disappear?” He laughed. The others laughed too.
“Hey, Tony, do some magic!” Horse threw a hold around my neck and locked me into his half-nelson.
“Yeah!” Ernie shouted in my face. I did not know why he hated me. “Leave him alone, Horse,” Red said.
“Stay out of it, Red,” Ernie shouted, “you’re a Protestant. You don’t know about the brujas!”
“They turn to owls and fly at night,” Abel shouted.
“You have to kill them with a bullet marked with a cross,” Lloyd added. “It’s the law.”
“Do magic,” Horse grunted in my ear. His half-nelson was tight now.
My stomach felt sick.
“Voodoo!” Ernie spun the ball in my face.
“Okay!” I cried. It must have scared Horse because he let loose and jumped back. They were all still, watching me.
The heat and what I had heard made me sick. I bent over, wretched and vomited. The yellow froth and juice of the carrots splattered at their feet.
“Jesuschriss!” “¡Chingada!” “¡Puta!” “¡A la madre!”
“Come on,” Cico said. We took advantage of their surprise and ran. We were over the hill, past the last few houses, and at Blue Lake before they recovered from the astonishment I saw in their faces. We stopped to rest and laugh.
“That was great, Tony,” Cico gasped, “that really put Ernie in his place
—”
“Yeah,” I nodded. I felt better after vomiting and running. I felt better about taking the carrots, but I did not feel good about what they had said about Ultima.
“Why are they like that?” I asked Cico. We skirted Blue Lake and worked our way through the tall, golden grass to the creek.
“I don’t know,” Cico answered, “except that people, grown-ups and kids, seem to want to hurt each other—and it’s worse when they’re in a group.”
We walked on in silence. I had never been this far before so the land interested me. I knew that the waters of El Rito flowed from springs in the dark hills. I knew that those hills cradled the mysterious Hidden Lakes, but I had never been there. The creek flowed around the town, crossed beneath the bridge to El Puerto, then turned towards the river. There was a small reservoir there, and where the water emptied into the river the watercress grew thick and green. Ultima and I had visited the place in search of roots and herbs.
The water of El Rito was clear and clean. It was not muddy like the water of the river. We followed the footpath along the creek until we came to a thicket of brush and trees. The trail skirted around the bosque.
Cico paused and looked around. He pretended to be removing a splinter from his foot, but he was cautiously scanning the trail and the grass around us. I was sure we were alone; the last people we had seen were the swimmers at the Blue Lake a few miles back. Cico pointed to the path.
“The fishermen follow the trail around the brush,” he whispered, “they hit the creek again just below the pond that’s hidden in here.” He squirmed into the thicket on hands and knees, and I followed. After a while we could stand up again and follow the creek to a place where an old beaver dam made a large pond.
It was a beautiful spot. The pond was dark and clear, and the water trickled and gurgled over the top of the dam. There was plenty of grass
along the bank, and on all sides the tall brush and trees rose to shut off the world.
Cico pointed. “The golden carp will come through there.” The cool waters of the creek came out of a dark, shadowy grotto of overhanging thicket, then flowed about thirty feet before they entered the large pond. Cico reached into a clump of grass and brought out a long, thin salt cedar branch with a spear at the end. The razor-sharp steel glistened in the sun. The other end of the spear had a nylon cord attached to it for retrieving.
“I fish for the black bass of the pond,” Cico said. He took a position on a high clump of grass at the edge of the bank and motioned for me to sit by the bank, but away from him.
“How can you see him?” I asked. The waters of the pool were clear and pure, but dark from their depth and shadows of the surrounding brush. The sun was crystaline white in the clear, blue sky, but still there was the darkness of shadows in this sacred spot.
“The golden carp will scare him up,” Cico whispered. “The black bass thinks he can be king of the fish, but all he wants is to eat them. The black bass is a killer. But the real king is the golden carp, Tony. He does not eat his own kind—”
Cico’s eyes remained glued on the dark waters. His body was motionless, like a spring awaiting release. We had been whispering since we arrived at the pond, why I didn’t know, except that it was just one of those places where one can communicate only in whispers, like church.
We sat for a long time, waiting for the golden carp. It was very pleasant to sit in the warm sunshine and watch the pure waters drift by. The drone of the summer insects and grasshoppers made me sleepy. The lush green of the grass was cool, and beneath the grass was the dark earth, patient, waiting…
To the northeast two hawks circled endlessly in the clear sky. There must be something dead on the road to Tucumcari, I thought.
Then the golden carp came. Cico pointed and I turned to where the stream came out of the dark grotto of overhanging tree branches. At first I thought I must be dreaming. I had expected to see a carp the size of a river carp, perhaps a little bigger and slightly orange instead of brown. I rubbed my eyes and watched in astonishment.
“Behold the golden carp, Lord of the waters—” I turned and saw Cico standing, his spear held across his chest as if in acknowledgement of the
presence of a ruler.
The huge, beautiful form glided through the blue waters. I could not believe its size. It was bigger than me! And bright orange! The sunlight glistened off his golden scales. He glided down the creek with a couple of small carp following, but they were like minnows compared to him.
“The golden carp,” I whispered in awe. I could not have been more entranced if I had seen the Virgin, or God Himself. The golden carp had seen me. It made a wide sweep, its back making ripples in the dark water. I could have reached out into the water and touched the holy fish!
“He knows you are a friend,” Cico whispered.
Then the golden carp swam by Cico and disappeared into the darkness of the pond. I felt my body trembling as I saw the bright golden form disappear. I knew I had witnessed a miraculous thing, the appearance of a pagan god, a thing as miraculous as the curing of my uncle Lucas. And I thought, the power of God failed where Ultima’s worked; and then a sudden illumination of beauty and understanding flashed through my mind. This is what I had expected God to do at my first holy communion! If God was witness to my beholding of the golden carp then I had sinned! I clasped my hands and was about to pray to the heavens when the waters of the pond exploded.
I turned in time to see Cico hurl his spear at the monstrous black bass that had broken the surface of the waters. The evil mouth of the black bass was open and red. Its eyes were glazed with hate as it hung in the air surrounded by churning water and a million diamond droplets of water. The spear whistled through the air, but the aim was low. The huge tail swished and contemptuously flipped it aside. Then the black form dropped into the foaming waters.
“Missed,” Cico groaned. He retrieved his line slowly.
I nodded my head. “I can’t believe what I have seen,” I heard myself say, “are all the fish that big here—”
“No,” Cico smiled, “they catch two and three pounders below the beaver dam, the black bass must weigh close to twenty—” He threw his spear and line behind the clump of grass and came to sit by me. “Come on, let’s put our feet in the water. The golden carp will be returning—”
“Are you sorry you missed?” I asked as we slid our feet into the cool water.
“No,” Cico said, “it’s just a game.”
The orange of the golden carp appeared at the edge of the pond. As he came out of the darkness of the pond the sun caught his shiny scales and the light reflected orange and yellow and red. He swam very close to our feet.
His body was round and smooth in the clear water. We watched in silence at the beauty and grandeur of the great fish. Out of the corners of my eyes I saw Cico hold his hand to his breast as the golden carp glided by. Then with a swish of his powerful tail the golden carp disappeared into the shadowy water under the thicket.
I shook my head. “What will happen to the golden carp?” “What do you mean?” Cico asked.
“There are many men who fish here—”
Cico smiled. “They can’t see him, Tony, they can’t see him. I know every man from Guadalupe who fishes, and there ain’t a one who has ever mentioned seeing the golden carp. So I guess the grown-ups can’t see him
—”
“The Indian, Narciso, Ultima—”
“They’re different, Tony. Like Samuel, and me, and you—”
“I see,” I said. I did not know what that difference was, but I did feel a strange brotherhood with Cico. We shared a secret that would always bind us.
“Where does the golden carp go?” I asked and nodded upstream.
“He swims upstream to the lakes of the mermaid, the Hidden Lakes—” “The mermaid?” I questioned him.
“There are two deep, hidden lakes up in the hills,” he continued, “they feed the creek. Some people say those lakes have no bottom. There’s good fishing, but very few people go there. There’s something strange about those lakes, like they are haunted. There’s a strange power, it seems to watch you—”
“Like the presence of the river?” I asked softly. Cico looked at me and nodded.
“You’ve felt it,” he said. “Yes.”
“Then you understand. But this thing at the lakes is stronger, or maybe not stronger, it just seems to want you more. The time I was there—I climbed to one of the over-hanging cliffs, and I just sat there, watching the
fish in the clear water—I didn’t know about the power then, I was just thinking how good the fishing would be, when I began to hear strange music. It came from far away. It was a low, lonely murmuring, maybe like something a sad girl would sing. I looked around, but I was alone. I looked over the ledge of the cliff and the singing seemed to be coming from the water, and it seemed to be calling me—”
I was spellbound with Cico’s whispered story. If I had not seen the golden carp perhaps I would not have believed him. But I had seen too much today to doubt him.
“I swear, Tony, the music was pulling me into the dark waters below! The only thing that saved me from plunging into the lake was the golden carp. He appeared and the music stopped. Only then could I tear myself away from that place. Man, I ran! Oh how I ran! I had never been afraid before, but I was afraid then. And it wasn’t that the singing was evil, it was just that it called for me to join it. One more step and I’da stepped over the ledge and drowned in the waters of the lake—”
I waited a long time before I asked the next question. I waited for him to finish reliving his experience. “Did you see the mermaid?”
“No,” he answered.
“Who is she?” I whispered.
“No one knows. A deserted woman—or just the wind singing around the edges of those cliffs. No one really knows. It just calls people to it—”
“Who?”
He looked at me carefully. His eyes were clear and bright, like Ultima’s, and there were lines of age already showing.
“Last summer the mermaid took a shepherd. He was a man from Méjico, new here and working for a ranch beyond the hills. He had not heard the story about the lakes. He brought his sheep to water there, and he heard the singing. He made it back to town and even swore that he had seen the mermaid. He said it was a woman, resting on the water and singing a lonely song. She was half woman and half fish—He said the song made him want to wade out to the middle of the lake to help her, but his fear had made him run. He told everyone the story, but no one believed him. He ended up getting drunk in town and swearing he would prove his story by going back to the lakes and bringing back the mer-woman. He never returned. A week later the flock was found near the lakes. He had vanished—”
“Do you think the mermaid took him?” I asked.
“I don’t know, Tony,” Cico said and knit his brow, “there’s a lot of things I don’t know. But never go to the Hidden Lakes alone, Tony, never. It’s not safe.”
I nodded that I would honor his warning. “It is so strange,” I said, “the things that happen. The things that I have seen, or heard about.”
“Yes,” he agreed.
“These things of the water, the mermaid, the golden carp. They are strange. There is so much water around the town, the river, the creek, the lakes—”
Cico leaned back and stared into the bright sky. “This whole land was once covered by a sea, a long time ago—”
“My name means sea,” I pondered aloud.
“Hey, that’s right,” he said, “Márez means sea, it means you came from the ocean, Tony Márez arisen from the sea—”
“My father says our blood is restless, like the sea—”
“That is beautiful,” he said. He laughed. “You know, this land belonged to the fish before it belonged to us. I have no doubt about the prophecy of the golden carp. He will come to rule again!”
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“What do I mean?” Cico asked quizzically. “I mean that the golden carp will come to rule again. Didn’t Samuel tell you?”
“No,” I shook my head.
“Well he told you about the people who killed the carp of the river and were punished by being turned into fish themselves. After that happened, many years later, a new people came to live in this valley. And they were no better than the first inhabitants, in fact they were worse. They sinned a lot, they sinned against each other, and they sinned against the legends they knew. And so the golden carp sent them a prophecy. He said that the sins of the people would weigh so heavy upon the land that in the end the whole town would collapse and be swallowed by water—”
I must have whistled in exclamation and sighed.
“Tony,” Cico said, “this whole town is sitting over a deep, underground lake! Everybody knows that. Look.” He drew on the sand with a stick. “Here’s the river. The creek flows up here and curves into the river. The Hidden Lakes complete the other border. See?”
I nodded. The town was surrounded by water. It was frightening to know that! “The whole town!” I whispered in amazement.
“Yup,” Cico said, “the whole town. The golden carp has warned us that the land cannot take the weight of the sins—the land will finally sink!”
“But you live in town!” I exclaimed.
He smiled and stood up. “The golden carp is my god, Tony. He will rule the new waters. I will be happy to be with my god—”
It was unbelievable, and yet it made a wild kind of sense! All the pieces
fit!
“Do the people of the town know?” I asked anxiously. “They know,” he nodded, “and they keep on sinning.” “But it’s not fair to those who don’t sin!” I countered. “Tony,” Cico said softly, “all men sin.”
I had no answer to that. My own mother had said that losing your
innocence and becoming a man was learning to sin. I felt weak and powerless in the knowledge of the impending doom.
“When will it happen?” I asked.
“No one knows,” Cico answered. “It could be today, tomorrow, a week, a hundred years—but it will happen.”
“What can we do?” I asked. I heard my voice tremble. “Sin against no one,” Cico answered.
I walked away from that haven which held the pond and the swimming waters of the golden carp feeling a great weight in my heart. I was saddened by what I had learned. I had seen beauty, but the beauty had burdened me with responsibility. Cico wanted to fish at the dam, but I was not in the mood for it. I thanked him for letting me see the golden carp, crossed the river, and trudged up the hill homeward.
I thought about telling everyone in town to stop their sinning, or drown and die. But they would not believe me. How could I preach to the whole town, I was only a boy. They would not listen. They would say I was crazy, or bewitched by Ultima’s magic.
I went home and thought about what I had seen and the story Cico told. I went to Ultima and told her the story. She said nothing. She only smiled. It was as if she knew the story and found nothing fantastic or impending in it. “I would have told you the story myself,” she nodded wisely, “but it is better that you hear the legend from someone your own age…”
“Am I to believe the story?” I asked. I was worried.
“Antonio,” she said calmly and placed her hand on my shoulder, “I cannot tell you what to believe. Your father and your mother can tell you, because you are their blood, but I cannot. As you grow into manhood you must find your own truths—”
That night in my dreams I walked by the shore of a great lake. A bewitching melody filled the air. It was the song of the mer-woman! I looked into the dark depths of the lake and saw the golden carp, and all around him were the people he had saved. On the bleached shores of the lake the carcasses of sinners rotted.
Then a huge golden moon came down from the heavens and settled on the surface of the calm waters. I looked towards the enchanting light, expecting to see the Virgin of Guadalupe, but in her place I saw my mother!
Mother, I cried, you are saved! We are all saved!
Yes, my Antonio, she smiled, we who were baptized in the water of the moon which was made holy by our Holy Mother the Church are saved.
Lies! my father shouted, Antonio was not baptized in the holy water of the moon, but in the salt water of the sea!
I turned and saw him standing on the corpse-strewn shore. I felt a searing pain spread through my body.
Oh please tell me which is the water that runs through my veins, I moaned; oh please tell me which is the water that washes my burning eyes!
It is the sweet water of the moon, my mother crooned softly, it is the water the Church chooses to make holy and place in its font. It is the water of your baptism.
Lies, lies, my father laughed, through your body runs the salt water of the oceans. It is that water which makes you Márez and not Luna. It is the water that binds you to the pagan god of Cico, the golden carp!
Oh, I cried, please tell me. The agony of pain was more than I could bear. The excruciating pain broke and I sweated blood.
There was a howling wind as the moon rose and its powers pulled at the still waters of the lake. Thunder split the air and the lightning bursts illuminated the churning, frothy tempest. The ghosts stood and walked upon the shore.
The lake seemed to respond with rage and fury. It cracked with the laughter of madness as it inflicted death upon the people. I thought the end
had come to everything. The cosmic struggle of the two forces would destroy everything!
The doom which Cico had predicted was upon us! I clasped my hands and knelt to pray. The terrifying end was near. Then I heard a voice speak above the sound of the storm. I looked up and saw Ultima.
Cease! she cried to the raging powers, and the power from the heavens and the power from the earth obeyed her. The storm abated.
Stand, Antonio, she commanded, and I stood. You both know, she spoke to my father and my mother, that the sweet water of the moon which falls as rain is the same water that gathers into rivers and flows to fill the seas.
Without the waters of the moon to replenish the oceans there would be no oceans. And the same salt waters of the oceans are drawn by the sun to the heavens, and in turn become again the waters of the moon. Without the sun there would be no waters formed to slake the dark earth’s thirst.
The waters are one, Antonio. I looked into her bright, clear eyes and understood her truth.
You have been seeing only parts, she finished, and not looking beyond into the great cycle that binds us all.
Then there was peace in my dreams and I could rest.
