The Long and Storied Life of Jose Montoya

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The Long and Storied Life of Jose Montoya 54the town with their loose morals and poor hygiene. This section of street was easily watched over byclergy and other prominent citizens in case anyone other than soldiers might be tempted to visit there,so that the wayward could be corrected. They did this in order to better fulfill Jesus's commandmentthat those without sin worse than consorting with prostitutes should throw stones at others.The women stood in doorways up and down this street, each making her own foul businessproposal to Jose. For his part, Jose could not stand the site of any of them. They all seemed asdesiccated and as barren as the desert itself, and from every doorway crawled a mixture of the odors ofperfume and fetid decay that made Jose hold his breath as he walked along. Thus it was at first toJose's great delight that at the very far end of the street he found there La Brujita from the stockade inthe camp in Mexico, with her long red hair. Not knowing in which direction was her home, she hadfollowed the mass migration of soldiers back to America when they had torn down the stockade andthen the camp and headed out. Once across the border, however, the magic that had lived within her inMexico had apparently died. No longer could La Brujita make objects fly around the room, or evenscoot across a table. Even the brilliant red of her hair had drastically faded since she had been inAmerica.It was immediately obvious to Jose that wherever La Brujita's true home was it was not inAmerica, and were she to stay any longer she was in danger of becoming as lifeless and colorless anddry as the American women practicing their profession there in that narrow neighborhood in Columbus.He gave her the small amount of cash that he had on his person and walked her the few miles to theborder crossing to see her safely on her way. He admitted to her that he had no clear idea where hisown home was to be, either, and wished her luck in finding hers. Jose watched her cross the border, thered of her hair instantly intensifying. He felt like he might be giving up a friend, but he knew thatAmerica would not be good for her; and if he had any doubts that he was doing the right thing, thereturn of her hair color laid them to rest.
The Long and Storied Life of Jose Montoya 55A few feet into Mexico La Brujita stopped and turned around. She smiled at Jose and a smalldust devil started to spiral around at her feet. Jose smiled back as a stone suddenly flew out of theminiature cyclone and arced across the border. It was small enough to fit in the palm of his hand, andJose easily caught it. Looking down, Jose was both surprised and delighted to see that the stone wasperfectly carved into the shape of a tiny skull the same size as the sugared skulls he had been saving inhis tin box. Unsure of how to feel he looked up to say thank you, but La Brujita was no longer in sight.Jose waved across the border anyway, turned on his heels, and limped his way back to Camp Furlong,fingers tightly wrapped around the stone skull. This new skull would take its place in the tin box nextto all of the sugared skulls, and Jose would never again visit that narrow, one-street quarter ofColumbus where the mummies called from doorways and windows.In April of 1917 America entered the Great War. Troops continued to cycle in and out of CampFurlong, and Jose continued his work at the rifle range. Not long after Jose's first anniversary ofservice, in March of that year, his lieutenant congratulated him on making the rank of corporal. TheArmy needed leaders in this time of war, said the lieutenant. Ones that led with their legs, as Jose haddemonstrated he could do the night that he was shot. Henceforth there would be new privates to raiseand lower the targets at the firing range. Jose would concentrate more on teaching, turningshopkeepers into sharpshooters by balancing nickels on the barrels of their rifles.By July of 1917 Jose's skills at balancing nickels had grown so great that Camp Furlong beganto be noticed for the exceptional scores being generated by soldiers on its rifle range. Unused to theexceptional, the Army began to ask why; when the answer ultimately turned out to be the training skillsof a young corporal named Joe Montoya, the Army decided that Joe Montoya could no longer stay atCamp Furlong. A new camp was being constructed in Ohio where endless thousands of men were to betrained before being shipped to trenches in France to help fight the Great War. All of those men needed
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