by Denise LaFountaine
The roosters were sleeping when Doña Ofelia slipped out of her worn hammock and walked barefoot across the dirt floor. As was custom, she went outside and gathered up an arm full of firewood and brought it inside for the morning fire. For as long as she could remember, Doña Ofelia had gotten up to prepare Don Ramon’s coffee, warm his tortillas and heat-up his frijoles before his daily trek to the milpa. Now, this early morning routine would include their son, Juilo.
Julio was the oldest of five children. Now ten years old, Don Ramon and Doña Ofelia decided that it was time for Julio to leave his studies behind in order to help his father cultivate their land. Julio could already read at a third grade level, higher than his parents learned to read. Now, more than education, they needed the strong arms and back of their eldest son to help sustain the family.
The potent Yucatecan sun was just coming up over the horizon when Don Ramon and Julio set out for the day. Soon, they would meet up with their compadre, Don Poncho who helped work the land for a small fee.
After exchanging greetings, they walked in silence surrounded by acres and acres of corn. This year was a blessing to Don Ramon. Not only did he have the extra hands of his eldest son and faithful friend, but the rains that almost always destroyed a third of his crop were lighter, and the intercropping of corn, beans and squash maximized production. Perhaps, after he accounted for his family’s needs, he would have a small surplus to sell for a profit. After several harsh years, he would finally be able to buy some of the items that his family sorely needed.
While Julio squatted low and collected beans into his basket, his Papa and tio stood tall in order to pick off the highest ears of corn. Most of the year they quietly worked their separate patches of earth, but at harvest time they labored side by side and told stories of their youth.
This day had been like all others. After they finished with lunch they went back to work in the mid-day heat. The rains wouldn’t come to cool things off until much later in the afternoon, and by that time they would be on their way home.
Distracted by thoughts of everyday events, Julio wandered off down the row of beans
oblivious to the world around him. Just as he bent over to pick the beans closest to the ground, he felt the sharp rip of fangs thrust into his ankle and lock into his skin. He looked down as a rattlesnake slowly loosened its grip and slithered over his foot before disappearing back into the bountiful fields of corn. He fell down and grabbed his ankle not yet comprehending the gravity of this bite.
Seconds after the shock had passed, Julio began to scream for help. His father heard the far away cries of his son and ran with Don Poncho towards the shrieks. Don Ramon immediately ordered Don Poncho to run back to their village to send for his family and then to search for a clinic with anti-venom serum.
Don Ramon sat rocking his son. There was nothing to do but wait. There were no words to alleviate the fear.
First Doña Ofelia appeared flanked by their four younger children. They embraced Julio with tears in their eyes. The shadows overhead began to bear down on Julio and his family as they sat waiting for Don Poncho’s return. Rain looked imminent as the poison slowly crept its way to Julio’s heart. There was no point in walking back to their village; the long walk would only bring death closer.
And then they saw Don Poncho running up the path, alone. He didn’t have any anti-venom serum. He had nothing that would stop the poison from reaching Julio’s heart. He had begged the doctors and threatened the pharmacy, but there simply wasn’t any remedy to be found. Out of options, Don Poncho ran over to the mission house where the nuns he had once worked for still lived. He knocked on the door. Softly, he asked to borrow their Polaroid camera.
Everyone gathered around Julio as Don Poncho took a picture. It would be the first and only photo of the entire family, and the last photo of their oldest son Julio.
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