November 2022

It is the year 1826, and Narna dreams of a better life away from her demanding father “En las cimas de las montañas al norte . . . on the peaks of the mountains to the north . . . crecen flores pequeñas . . . small flowers grow . . . bajo el mismo cielo que nosotros conocemos . . . underneath the very sky we know . . .” The lullaby was soft and comforting. It echoed through the dry, dusty room. “I still can’t sleep,” Narna complained. “It must be your thoughts. What are you thinking? Tell me,” Lana urged softly. Narna groaned, but reluctantly mumbled: “Mamá. I’m thinking about Mamá. It’s just not fair. Why must Papá treat her practically like a servant!” “She does work so hard.” *          *          * It’s the year 1826, and Narna and her sister Lana are whispering to each other underneath the cracking roof of their adobe house in the Mexican territory of New Mexico. Narna and Lana are very different. Narna, a tall ten-year-old, has straight, dark hair and narrow eyes. She is practical, but always thinking about all the “shouldn’t be’s” of their poor family and community. Lana is a small, meek, daydreamy seven-year-old with wispy light curls and misty gray eyes. But one difference that Narna thinks the biggest is that Lana is blind. Blind not from birth, but from a sickness four long years ago. Narna had never thought of them being similar after that. *          *          * “Pablo, stop crying!” Narna demanded, plucking their chubby baby brother from his cot and marching him into the open kitchen. She dropped him gently on the woven rug on the floor, surrounded him with toy blocks, and ordered him to sit and play. Narna had never liked babies. In her mind, they sat around crying and drooling and took an unnecessary portion of food. She supposed Pablo sensed this was what his big sister thought of him, which was why he chose the exact moments when he and Narna were alone together to throw his biggest of tantrums. Narna turned away, and blinked back tears. It broke her heart to see her parents fighting. Narna took a piece of cold cornbread and poured herself a tin cup of milk. She took the breakfast out onto the veranda and scanned the landscape with disapproval. Everything was dry and dusty, and Narna wished she could see beautiful, lush trees with trimmed branches in neat lines in place of the ugly, prickly cactuses scattered around. She took a nibble at her cornbread and kicked the dry, cracking earth. She stepped off the veranda and turned to look at their adobe house. Tufts of brown grass poked up through the veranda. The windows were just square holes in the walls. Many of the rooms had openings with awnings, letting the fresh air come in so the house did not get stuffy. Then Narna heard arguing voices from the side of the house. She set down her breakfast, which she had hardly touched, and hurried over to see what all the fuss was about. When she got around the corner, she saw her parents. Her papá was sitting atop a tall brown stallion, and her mamá was standing nearby, staring up at him while clutching a washcloth. “Ah, Francisca!” her papá was saying. “That hole in the roof of my bedroom! It’s been there for weeks! Why haven’t you mended it?” “Why, Diego, you haven’t asked me to,” her mamá said calmly. “Well, Francisca! That is hardly an excuse! I thought I would not have to demand a woman to fix a mere hole in my bedroom roof! It seems only practical that you would not have to be asked.” “Diego, I don’t believe that—” “I don’t want to hear it! Now, you shall go to my bedroom and fix that hole. What if it rains tonight? Now, you wouldn’t want me getting soaked!” “I think that it’s—” “This business has been settled!” Narna’s papá boomed, before riding importantly away. Sitting in Nature Narna turned away and blinked back tears. It broke her heart to see her parents fighting. And her mamá did not have the choice of leaving her papá. All their money came from him. The house was his, all the horses were his, and the few workers who lived on their property were his. Only papá could choose to leave mamá. Narna ran back to the veranda and sat stoutly down on the veranda step. She snatched up a nearby stick and drew scribbles in the dirt with it. She didn’t realize how hard she was pushing until the stick snapped. She groaned, sat back on her heels, and pulled her rebozo over her shoulders. “What’s troubling you, Narna?” Lana asked, coming up from the stream with a large basket of clean, scrubbed clothes. Even though Lana was blind, she could wash clothes in the shallow stream. Only getting to the stream was tricky, because of the narrow path, but their mamá had tied a rope from a little post near the adobe house to a tree down near the little stream. Lana would hold the basket of clothes in one hand and the rope in the other. It would guide her down, and now she could make it to the stream and back easily. Narna looked her little sister in the eye, even though Narna knew she could not see her, and Lana looked back. “Mamá and Papá were arguing again,” Narna told her. She looked down at the ground where she had scribbled with her stick. “It isn’t right. It isn’t fair!” Lana came and sat with her, and Narna guided her down onto the step. She didn’t say a word, but even Lana’s understanding and sympathetic sigh was comforting. “I must go to Pablo,” Lana finally said, so Narna helped