Many Paths ....... One Mountain Mahatma Gandhi

Monthly Story

Vesuvio’s Tale © — Part one

Vesuvio kicked the dust with his bare toes as he walked from the field to the house. The thick spicy aroma of his grandmother’s stew drifted toward him in the quiet afternoon. The strong winds of the morning had calmed and waves of heat rose from the cracked earth as the sun reached its hottest time of the day.

The three newest kittens greeted him at the door, leaping and clawing at his dusty jeans. Did you remember the squash grandson? The old woman turned as he entered the tiny kitchen strewn with worn pots and pans…mismatched dishes and stacks of cups of all shapes and sizes. This kitchen was the center of Vesuvio’s world…the place that never changed…

the source of warmth and love even in the coldest winter.

There are no squash today, Ah-ma, the boy replied. They have all been eaten by the deer. The old woman frowned. We must find someone to fix the fence Grandson. We cannot survive if the deer eat everything we have.

I know, Ah-ma, he sighed. But the men have all gone to the mountain and they will be gone for days.

You will have to sleep in the field tonight, she said…to guard our plants until your uncles return.

Vesuvio didn’t mind sleeping outside. It was in the night that he saw the animal spirits. The other children were afraid of the old stories, but Vesuvio knew a different story…a story that held him and made him feel strong and important. Some of the villagers thought Vesuvio was possessed by a devil that can be put on a person by someone with a grudge… the grudge was always against an elder…that’s the way the magic worked, they said…if an elder crosses a sorcerer, the devil will be put on his child or grandchild because that will hurt him the most.
Some said that Vesuvio’s father had brought it on by cheating and stealing from others in the village. But he did not remember this father who left on a trip and never returned when Vesuvio was only two years old.

Now at nine years old, he was the man of the house. Oh, yes, he had uncles but they had their own families to provide for. Vesuvio and his sister lived with his mother and his mother’s parents. He was not the only boy in the village without a father, but his family kept to themselves and sometimes he felt very alone.

There are some new people in town, Vesuvio told his grandmother as he sat down to eat. They are from far away and they have brought things to sell at the market. The old woman sat a bowl of steaming stew in front of the boy.

They sat together at the round table. This table where everyone came to eat and talk and tell stories seemed lonely with just the two of them. His mother and sister had gone to the mountain this year with the others. It was his sister’s first trip and Vesuvio was jealous that she was old enough and he was left behind to tend the field.

When the rest of the village returned, they would be ripe with stories to be told in the long nights of the winter when families gathered to remember the harvest time and rest in the sleeping cold of the earth’s hibernation.

The new merchants have brought radios that work without electricity, Vesuvio told his grandmother…Carlos saw them when he went to market with his auntie. We could listen to the music Ah-ma…every night right here at home!

Foolish boy, the old woman chided…There is no time for being lazy…soon the corn will be ready and sleep will be the only thing you need.

Vesuvio knew better than to argue with his grandmother. Though small in stature, she was powerful and resolute in her role as matriarch of the family. Her daughters were not like her. They had been to the government schools and had forgotten some of the old ways. She was tireless in her attempts to keep the traditions alive. She felt a special bond with Vesuvio…seeing deep into his soul, she knew he had come to change things and she feared for his future.

They ate in silence while the kittens romped through the small house chasing their tails and each other until finally tiring to curl up on the floor in the sun.
The old woman watched her grandson from the corner of her eye.

Vesuvio, she said, You are taller than yesterday! He laughed. Maybe, Ah-ma…maybe I am rounder than yesterday…it seemed that no matter how fast he ran or how many loads of wood he carried, Vesuvio retained his baby fat. Sometimes he worried when he was lying on the ground looking at his belly. Most of the boys his age were getting taller and thinner but Vesuvio always looked different. His father had come from a different village, and fate had left his genes with the boy he left behind.

Later that evening, when the last prayers were given and the spirits were fed, Vesuvio set off for the field with his blanket roll and some water. The stars overhead shone like lanterns leading the way. The night sky always enchanted him with its vastness and light. The moon was nearly full and the path was easy to follow.

Crickets called to each other as he passed. This was his favorite time of year, when the warmth of the day lingered in the earth and the ground was radiant and inviting. He found a soft spot among the corn and squash plants and spread his blanket down. A bat flew low over his head and for a moment, he felt a tiny knot of worry in his belly.

He lay on his back taking a deep breath and studied the stars overhead. He remembered the stories about the star people and imagined them looking down at him in the field… I wonder if they will notice me tonight…he thought. But before long, his eyes felt heavy and his breathing became deeper and slower

Somewhere between wakefulness and sleep, Vesuvio felt a strange and familiar tingling in his chest. He gazed into the distance from half closed eyes as the vision approached. It was the woman…the same woman who came to him many times before. She remained at a distance and beckoned him with her eyes.

Reaching toward him with her arms, he felt energy rush through his body from his feet to his head and saw sparkling lights dancing around her in the air.

Her long hair blew silently in the magic wind as he stared eyes open wide now.
She was silent but he could feel a magnetic force pulling on his heart. He closed his eyes tight and waited for the vision to leave.

After some time, he cautiously opened his eyes and peeked out finding darkness and emptiness before him…she had gone. He sighed and pulled the blanket around him falling quickly into a dreamy sleep.

The next morning, the feel of her magic remained in his body. Vesuvio was worried. She was coming more often lately and he was beginning to feel that he would burst if he had to keep this secret in his heart much longer. He felt fear for the first time…fear of losing his mind; fear of being a freak, and somewhere deep inside his soul, he felt fear for what the woman really wanted from him.

He decided that he would tell his mother about the woman when she returnedfrom the mountain. Once the decision was made, the growing knot in his belly began to release.
No deer had come during the night. Vesuvio shook off his drowsiness and looked around. Early morning birds called from the trees nearby as the sun began its ascent into the summer sky. There was a chill in the air this morning that made Vesuvio think of the warm tortillas and gruel that his grandmother was preparing at the house. His belly rumbled and he was glad that Ah-ma was still healthy and active. Some of the village children had grandparents who were too old or too sick to care for them. He was lucky.

His Ah-ma watched over him like a hawk, always telling him of his special purpose.
One day, Grandson, she would tell him, you will be known in the world. You will bring healing and change because you are gifted.

But these words confused him. Why would a gifted boy’s father desert him? He would feel a hot wave of anger in his chest and belly when he thought of the man who did not see his own son’s worthiness. Perhaps Ah-ma was mistaken…perhaps there was nothing in him worth staying for. And why did his mother allow this? Why did she not fight to keep the father home? Maybe she drove him away; Vesuvio thought darkly…if she had been a good wife, would he have stayed?

All these thoughts crowded his mind as he opened the valve that allowed the water to fill the carefully dug irrigations ditches that ran into the rows of corn and squash, filling them with the day’s ration. What was this gift his grandmother spoke of? What could an ordinary boy without a father be good for?

It had been a long time since Vesuvio had seen his brother Mario. Sometimes he missed this brother he had never known…but most of the time he felt only resentment. Mario was younger…a mystery to Vesuvio. His mother and father had reunited briefly and soon she discovered that she was with child again. Vesuvio’s father had already gone again…this time to find a home for all of them in a far away place called California. Vesuvio remembered little of this time.

The baby came in the spring but Vesuvio’s father did not appear. Soon the new child was taken to the village of his father and given to the grandparents to raise. Vesuvio’s mother was tired and angry…and her heart was broken. With two children to feed and care for, she could not find the strength for another. Secretly she hoped that Vesuvio’s father would return to his village to see his son and then realize he should come home.

But time wore on and the new child became a part of the other village. Eventually, Vesuvio’s father made frequent visits to his own village to see the little boy, but he never stayed and he rarely came to Vesuvio’s village. Vesuvio’s older sister had a different father…one who visited her and brought her gifts but like Vesuvio’s father, this one did not stay either.

As time passed, Vesuvio heard little of the lost brother…only that for this one, the father found a reason to be with him and to watch him grow. When Vesuvio thought of this, he felt an aching in his throat and he would hide and cry because he knew that this brother was more special than he…more loved by the father who deserted him.

The one thing that gave him a sense of purpose was the woman who came to him in the visions. He knew that she was trying to tell him something important, and when he was feeling strong, he would imagine that she was coming to tell him about his great purpose…the one his grandmother knew…the one thing that would make him special…the one thing to live for.

Still, he worried that he might be losing his mind so he kept the secret inside…even from his grandmother. For now, he would wait but soon he would tell his mother and then he would know if it was real.

To Be Continued …