The Long and Storied Life of Jose Montoya

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The Long and Storied Life of Jose Montoya 50from the border back to Camp Furlong. When Jose was carried off of the truck and immediately takento see the camp doctor they went with him, standing around the examination table and listening to thedoctor's pronouncements.The doctor was of the opinion that Jose would eventually regain almost total use of his leg,although it seemed likely that there would be some lingering discrepancies, and that Jose wouldprobably have at least a slight limp for the rest of his life. That seemed to satisfy the two ghosts, whowalked out of the infirmary and vanished as soon as they had heard this pronouncement. For Jose, itwas news that was only slightly less disturbing than having missed the opportunity to be with LaCatrina. He was not yet even seventeen years old, and already he had been given a handicap that mightstay with him for the rest of his life. He was not sure who would want him, a cripple. Would the Armykick him out? Would the railroad take him back? What woman would ever want a man dragging auseless leg along behind himself? Would he be forced to continue consorting with prostitutes? Wouldhe have to give up American and return to Agua Prieta?These questions and a million related scenarios played themselves out inside Jose's mind overthe next week, a week that he spent at the infirmary under the watchful eye of the doctor. In the end,however, the doctor informed Jose that the leg seemed to be healing nicely, and that he wouldrecommend that Jose be allowed to stay in the Army in a permanent light duty capacity. This was goodnews to Jose, who had been unable to think up a fallback plan should the Army discharge him. At theend of the week, when it was time for Jose to leave the infirmary and finish his convalescence in hisown bunk in his own barracks, the colonel commanding Jose's regiment made a special trip to CampFurlong and awarded him a medal for having been wounded in combat with an enemy. Jose thoughtthat in reality it was a medal for having been terribly unlucky, although to say so to the colonel wouldhave been very impolite. Instead, Jose saluted as best he could from the top of a pair of crutches andsmiled.
The Long and Storied Life of Jose Montoya 51Once back in his barracks and alone, Jose unpinned the medal from his tunic and took out thetin box which held his treasures. He felt that his new medal should go in the box with his other prizedpossessions relating to La Catrina, since more than anything else it was a symbol to Jose of a heartwounded by love. He opened the box. There on top was the rose that La Catrina had left in the muzzleof his rifle, still viable, fresh and fragrant. He lifted it up to his nose to inhale the sweet fragrance ofthe bloom, and as he did so a sparkle from within the box caught his eye. He looked more closely.There in his tin box, nestled neatly among the sugared skulls, was a small blue diamond. Jose was sureit was flawless, in the way that perfect love is flawless. He knew it was beyond value, because hewould not have sold it for any amount of money. It was a piece of the sky reflected in a teardrop, justas he had seen it as he lay on the truck the day after being shot.Jose was not exactly sure of the message that La Catrina intended to convey through this newgift, but he was at least certain it was a sign that she had not abandoned him. He could not know herreasons for not taking him, but he trusted that they were good ones. He smiled as he placed first thediamond back into the box, and then the medal he had just received. Jose still saw it as a medal forhaving been unlucky, but now that he had found the latest gift from La Catrina the pain of the brokenheart had all but vanished. He decided that the medal must ultimately be a symbol of patience, then. Alittle patience, and he had found the diamond teardrop that healed his heart. A little patience, andeventually he would be standing and walking on his own again.As the doctor had predicted Jose's leg continued to improve over the next few months, but itrefused to be completely healed. The limp, also predicted by the doctor, improved and worsened instrict proportion to the pain that Jose felt in the leg. It followed some rhythm that neither the doctor norJose could figure out, fluctuating in a pattern that logic and science did not seem able to pin down to atight schedule.
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