Read Latin American Folktales Online

Authors: John Bierhorst

Tags: #Fiction

Latin American Folktales (8 page)

8. St. Peter’s Wishes

St. Peter and a friend went out for a walk, and the exercise made them thirsty. St. Peter started asking for water. He got to a house, and when the woman came to the door and found out what he wanted, she took a glass, wiped it clean, and graciously gave him a drink.

St. Peter drank the water, and as he handed her the empty glass he said, “May God give you a bad husband.”

The two friends continued down the road and came to another house. St. Peter asked for water, and the woman found a glass and scrubbed it until it was perfectly clean. Then she filled it with water and handed it to St. Peter with tender care.

He drained the glass and said, “May God give you a bad husband.”

They came to another house, where an ill-tempered woman pushed a dirty glass of water in his face and said, “Drink it.”

St. Peter drank it and said, “May God give you a good husband.”

They walked on. The friend finally said, “How could you wish a good husband on that wretched woman after what you said to the women who were so good to you?”

“Because,” said St. Peter, “a bad husband needs a good woman to straighten him out, and a bad woman needs a good husband for the same reason.”

Cuba
/
Clemente
Sarría

9. The Coyote Teodora

Teodora, who knew the Devil’s secrets, was married to a good, quiet man. He farmed his plot and lived in peace. The couple had barely enough to live on. And yet, their kitchen overflowed with delicacies. Teodora always had a juicy roast to serve her husband and her little boy.

The husband wondered. But when he asked his wife where she could be getting such food, she acted as though she didn’t hear. Or she would say, “I bought it” or “A friend gave it to me.”

The woman’s husband was no simpleton, and he thought, “Are these the facts?” Day by day his suspicions grew. He took to watching his wife at night, but at first he could see nothing.

One night, however, as he lay awake, he felt the bed tremble and sensed that his wife was getting up. In the darkness of their little room he heard her recite a prayer of a kind he had not heard before. She turned around three times to the right, then three times to the left. He dared to look and saw that she had become a coyote.

Terror-stricken, he put his head under the covers and offered a prayer of his own, “St. Anthony and all the souls in purgatory, come save me!”

The next day, as usual, there were fryers and roasting hens on the kitchen shelf, and in the oven a suckling pig.

The husband was now on the alert. But the wife did not go out every night. A few days passed. Then one night, as before, she eased herself out of bed and recited her special words. This time her husband followed her tracks, and in the distance he could see a coyote running to the neighbors’ barnyards and henhouses and into their kitchens, gathering provisions for the next several days.

Now fully aware that his wife was a witch, the man went to the priest and reported what he had seen. As Christ’s minister the priest knew his duty and gave the husband a rope of St. Francis and a little holy water. “At precisely the moment she changes to her human form,” the priest advised, “give her three lashes with the rope of St. Francis and sprinkle her with the holy water. She’ll never be a coyote again.”

The husband carried out the instructions. But as it happened, the next time the coyote returned from its midnight run and was just becoming a woman again, the husband delivered the lashes and sprinkled the water a moment too soon. The head and the upper body were restored to the form of a woman, as the husband already had seen, but the hindquarters were those of a coyote and could not be changed.

Unable to live as a human, the woman abandoned her husband and her little boy and fled to the woods, where she still roams, they say, as an example to witches everywhere.

Honduras
/
Pablo
(surname
not
given)

10. Buried Alive

Once . . . once there was a man, well, it was a couple who loved each other very much. And when they talked their little talks, it was always, “What if you died! What would I do?”

Then the other would say, “Ahhh, if you died, I’d die too.” And they’d keep it up this way, night after night. The husband would say, “You love me how much?” “Ooooh, I adore you!” “Then what should we do?” “What do you mean?”

“If I die, you’ll take your own life. And if you die, I will too, and I’ll bury myself in the same grave.” So they made a pact: whoever went first, the other would go too. That way they’d be buried together.

As luck would have it, the wife died. And the husband said, “Oh my heavens!” But there it was, the Mrs. was dead and they’d made that pact. “Here I go, off to be buried.”

So he said to the gravedigger, “Make it a little extra wide, because I’m going to have to get in there with her. We had this pact: if she went first, I’d go too.”

The gravedigger made it wider. And . . . they buried him.

But he wasn’t dead. Somewhere, who knows where? he found a little pipe that he pushed up through the dirt so he could breathe and get some air. He had oxygen, then. It’s how he stayed alive.

All of a sudden he saw a mouse coming out through a hole in the dirt, running this way, that way, this way, that way. He looked again and saw a she-mouse, the mouse’s mate, lying there dead. And it came over and kissed her on her little snout. Then it ran off somewhere and came back with a tiny flower that it pushed into her mouth. With that the dead mouse stood up, and the two of them ran off into the hole, leaving the flower lying in the dirt.

When the husband saw how the little flower had raised the dead, he said, “For God’s sake, this flower has . . . has power! I’m going to give it to my wife.” He picked it up and pushed it into his wife’s mouth, and would you believe it, she woke up.

Then he hears, “Where am I?”

“Don’t you remember? You died. I’m here, too, because we had that pact.”

“So what do we do now?”

“Oh,” he says, “I’ll call for help. I’ve got a pipe here that connects to the outside.” So he calls, “Gravedigger! Gravedigger!” And the people who take care of the cemetery are hearing this, and they say, “Ghosts!”

“No, no,” says the husband, “it’s just us, the ones you buried yesterday.”

“Still alive?”

“Still alive. Get us out of here.”

So the gravediggers went and got their spades and dug them up. “How did it happen?” they wanted to know. And the man told them the whole story, about the mice.

Now, it turned out that this man, when his wife died, had some savings, some money they’d been able to put aside. He had taken it to the priest and said, “Father, here’s a little something we had that I’m not going to need, now that my wife is gone because, well, I’m about to die, too.” And he explained what the situation was.

And the priest had said, “That’ll be fine. It’ll pay for your Gregorian chants, sixty of them, for both of you. You’ll get to heaven for sure. With sixty masses you’ll go directly to heaven.”

All right.

But now that they’d come back to life, they were poor. So the man goes to the priest to get the money back, and the priest says, “What money? Oh, I know! But only half of it’s left. I already spent half for those chants.”

The man says, “I’ll take the other half, then.”

The priest says, “All right, but you’ll have to get out of town. You’ll have to go some place where no one around here will ever see you, because if they found out you’re still alive, I’d be ruined. They’d slit my throat. You’ve got to disappear.”

So the man took the money and went to his wife, and he said, “You know what? We’ve got to disappear. Throw your clothes into a suitcase. Let’s go.”

And they did.

California
/
Candelario
Gallardo

11. The Three Gowns

A gentleman and his wife had a daughter named Rosa. The wife had a ring she always wore, and one day she said to her husband, “Take this ring, for I am dying, and whoever can fit it to her finger is the one you must marry.”

The mother died, and within a few days word went out that the wearer of the dead woman’s ring would have the rich widower for a husband. Eligible ladies from all over came to try on the ring. For some it was too big. For others, too small. And all this took many days.

With one thing and another the ring got lost, and it was missing for oh, about a year. In the meantime the gentleman’s daughter had reached the age of marrying. And one day dear little Rosa was sweeping and found the ring. When she tried it on, it fit her exactly.

Her father, who was just returning from a sea voyage, noticed at once that his daughter was wearing the ring. He was enchanted. “You’ll have to marry me,” he said, “because your mother said so.”

The daughter cried out, “Oh, Papa! How can I marry my own father?”

“Never mind. You’ll do it and that’s that.”

“Very well, father. But before I marry you, you’ll have to bring me a gown the color of all the stars in the sky.”

“Why not!” And off he went to find such a gown.

After two or three days he came home carrying the outfit, and poor Rosa was more upset than ever.

“Very well, Papa, but I must have a gown the color of all the fish in the sea.”

He rushed off at once. Three days later, when she saw him coming back with the gown, she started to cry. “Oh, Papa, I can’t get married with only two gowns. I’d have to have three. Bring me one more, and it had better be the color of all the flowers on earth.”

As she required, so he provided. The very next day, there it was, a gown the color of all the flowers on earth. And without pausing to rest he went into town to make arrangements for the wedding.

The moment he was out of sight she tied her clothes together, along with a magic wand she happened to have, and off she ran with the whole bundle, deep into the forest.

After living in the wild for a few days she came upon a young lioness and managed to kill it. She took its skin and put it on. Mind you, whatever she did she always asked the little wand for assistance.

Nearby in a certain kingdom, there was a prince who had gone into the forest to do some shooting. Spotting a dove, he took a pop at it and it started off. The dove flitted from snag to snag with the prince hurrying behind. He stumbled on. Suddenly he caught sight of a lion cub. He said to himself, “I’ll bring this back as a pet for my mother.” He caught it easily and took it home. “Mama!” he cried. “Look what I’ve brought. A young lioness to keep you company.”

The queen took the little lioness into her arms, then tied it to a leg of the stove. She put down a dish of food for it.

The following Saturday the young prince, Juanito, for that was his name, was hosting a ball, and when the hour arrived he tidied himself up. In no time he was on his way. When he’d gone and it began to get dark, the lioness, who spoke only to the queen, said, “I’d love to go to the ball.”

“You must realize,” said the queen, “that if Juanito found a lion in the ballroom he’d have it shot.”

“Why worry? He wouldn’t dream of shooting me.”

“Then go.”

On the way to the ball she asked the wand to give her a horse saddled in gold. She put on her gown the color of all the stars, mounted the horse, and rode off.

When she arrived at the ball, every guest came to the door to see this princess decked out in silver and gold. Juanito had come with his intended, but in his excitement he completely forgot she was there and began to dance with the princess. He was so infatuated that he made her a promise, which she did not reject, and when dawn came he gave her a gold band inscribed with his name. In exchange she gave him a gold band of her own. Then she jumped on her horse and sped away, slipping into the lion’s skin as soon as she was out of view.

Later that morning Juanito came bursting into the palace, telling his mother all about a certain princess he had seen. He chattered on, with the lioness murmuring,

I might imply,
I might deny,
I might imply
That it was I.

The queen picked up the poker from in front of the stove and gave her a whack to shut her up. Juanito continued, “Mama, I must announce another ball for next Saturday.”

He did just that, planning a ball even grander than the one he had held the week before. When the day came, and he’d sped away, the lioness said to the old mother, “How about it? Untie me!”

“God forbid that you shouldn’t go!”

“I’m on my way.”

As soon as she was out the door she instructed the wand, “As pretty as you made me last Saturday, make me prettier tonight. Make the horse nicer, too.” Then she put on her gown the color of all the fish in the sea and rode off.

When she arrived at the dance, there were cries of excitement. And Juanito? He was enraptured. But at the crack of dawn she told him again, just as she’d told him the week before, “It’s late. I must leave at once.” Quick as a wink he gave her a little gold chain, and she gave him some token or other, mounted her horse, and vanished. They all ran to catch up with her but found no trace of her anywhere. And there was Juanito, panting with lovesickness.

Before she got back to the palace she changed into the lion’s skin. When Juanito arrived, all he could say was, “Oh, Mama, I’m dying. That princess was more beautiful than ever,” while the lioness, from her spot next to the stove, chimed in,

I might imply,
I might deny,
I might imply
That it was I.

The queen gave her a tap with the coal shovel, and Juanito went on, “But don’t worry. There’s going to be another dance next Saturday.”

As delightful as the first two balls had been, the third, he hoped, would surpass them both. And when the day came he refused to eat. He went early to the ballroom to wait for the princess. When he had gone, just at the stroke of six, the little lioness asked her mistress for permission to follow him, and the dotty old queen threw up her hands and said, “Go ahead, get yourself killed!”

Once on the road, she changed into her gown the color of all the flowers on earth. Her horse was bridled in silver and gold, and as radiant as she had seemed the other two times, she was even more radiant now. Juanito rushed toward her and locked his arm in hers. He swept her into the ballroom. They began to dance. Just to be safe, he doubled the guard at the door so she couldn’t escape. But nothing could stand in her way. When he’d given her a jeweled ring, and she’d handed him a gift in exchange, she suddenly disappeared.

The guards ran after her, but already she was far in the distance. Poor Juanito suffered a fainting spell.

Once more she pulled on the snug little lion’s skin. Later, when Juanito returned to the palace, he went straight to bed, so badly smitten that even a swallow of water wouldn’t go down his throat. His mother was beside herself; Juanito was her only child.

And this went on for a week, then another week. At last the little lioness asked her mistress if she thought the prince might like a few tarts. The prince was asked. He said no, he couldn’t eat a thing. But shouldn’t she make them anyway, just on a chance? No, no, said the queen. Goodness! If he knew that a lioness had made them, why would he touch them?

The lioness said, “Why would he know?”

So the little lioness made three tarts. In one she put the gold band, in another the gold chain, and in the third the jeweled ring. If the prince wouldn’t eat them, at least he could cut them open.

The queen brought the tarts to his room, and when he opened the first, there was the gold band. In the second, the gold chain. And in the third, the jeweled ring. The breath of life returned to his body. “Mama, who made these tarts?”

Already the lioness had changed into her gown the color of all the stars in the sky, and when she came into the prince’s room he said to his mama, “This is the princess I told you about.”

He recovered immediately. There were royal feasts and dances. They called in a priest, who performed the wedding. Then Juanito became king. Rosa was queen. And they went right on living with Juanito’s mama.

Puerto
Rico

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