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four-star hotel. Panti put down his plastic flour sack, stretched his slight<br />
frame out on the cushiony bed, and inched his body around like the hand of<br />
a clock.<br />
“It’s so big and soft. This is the best bed I have ever seen in my life.<br />
Rosita, you treat us like king and queen.” Claudia grinned, nodding in<br />
agreement, quickly spotting the rocking chair <strong>with</strong> a pillow seat. She<br />
squatted her plump frame onto it and began rocking and sighing from<br />
fatigue.<br />
Panti declined breakfast, saying it was his custom to fast on Good<br />
Friday until dusk. I noticed Claudia was more tender <strong>with</strong> Panti than I had<br />
ever observed before, and I began to think perhaps he was right—she just<br />
needed a good man to love her and draw out the dormant angel <strong>with</strong>in.<br />
Once in our kitchen amid the bloomers, overalls, and towels hanging<br />
from the rafters, Panti appropriately took up court in our most stately chair.<br />
He was kind and patient <strong>with</strong> our endless questions about the Primicia and<br />
its significance, enjoying his role as both priest and teacher. As we talked of<br />
<strong>Maya</strong> Spirits, we were startled by a loud, frantic call from across the river.<br />
We shouted back and heard a man yell, “Is Don Elijio there <strong>with</strong> you?”<br />
“Yes,” I hollered reluctantly, fearing that Panti would be whisked away<br />
by a supplicant who had tracked him down. I knew if an infirm or needy<br />
person came looking for him, he would tend to that patient and forsake his<br />
respite and our much-anticipated ceremony.<br />
“We need to see him. It’s urgent! Please let us cross!” came the voice<br />
again.<br />
Panti only laughed and rocked faster in his regal chair. “You see what I<br />
told you, child. They follow us everywhere.”<br />
“You haven’t even been here an hour and already they’re calling for<br />
you,” I said, handing an oar to James, who went down to the river to ferry<br />
the visitors across. A few minutes later James reappeared, <strong>with</strong> two men<br />
following. They looked desperate.<br />
“We went to San Antonio just after you left, but your granddaughter<br />
told us you were here,” one pleaded. “I need to speak to you in private, tato,<br />
please. It’s urgent!”<br />
Rising from his chair ever so slowly and stiffly, Don Elijio grabbed my<br />
outstretched hand and held on while we gingerly walked across the slippery<br />
grass to his little honeymoon cottage.