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Cecilia.
They sat beneath a tree as the merchant told them of what he had seen.
    “I do not want
to give you bad news,” he hedged, “but things do not look good up there. Many
people were killed. The priest opened the church to be used as a morgue.”
    Fear filled
the faces of the two boys and the merchant felt responsible to tell them as
much of the truth as he could.
    “As far as I
know your mother was not one of them,” he told Fidel. Looking at Santiago, who
he did not recognize immediately, the man nodded.
    “You are the
Cali boy? I know nothing about your family but I did not hear anything bad,
either. So perhaps everything is well.”
    There was no
comfort in the thought as a feeling in the pit of Santiago’s stomach made him
weary and urged him to get home as quickly as possible.
    “Fidel, we
should not stay here too long. Let us be off! Thank you for the water and the
information Señor. Our parents will worry if we do not return soon!”
    Fidel nodded
and shook the man’s hand.
     
    Anxieties
increased as they approached Santa Cecilia. The damage was intensive. Here too,
the church steeple had been toppled. Fields they passed were furrowed deeply
where the earth had rent itself. At several places they had to detour around
crevasses too wide to cross. Santiago decided to go with Fidel to his house, as
it was the first to be reached. Carlota Timuco was not home. After searching
the town they found her assisting the injured with several other women, under
the direction of Padre Lipolito. Once she was sure Fidel was safe and that he
was satisfied about her own safety, Carlota urged her son to go along with
Santiago. She knew how close the two boys were and of the nature of their
relationship!
    Carlota had
long known of her son’s inclination. She adjusted to it by the deep love of him
and the teachings of her church. The Church instructed that it was not the
place to judge others, but to accept people for who they were. All were God’s
children! The Church preached love as the all-guiding force that led to heaven.
Carlota was one of the few Christians who practiced the teaching. If love was
what her son felt for the Cali boy, then it had to be good. She knew what the
priest would have said about the matter and understood the double standard that
existed with crusaders of the Church.
    When Santiago
asked about his family, Carlota could not respond truthfully. She had heard the
news and did not want to be the one to tell him, but knew it had to come from
Don Emilio. Carlota was able to take her son aside and warm him so that he
would be prepared for the shock Santiago would experience.
    “Do not leave
him, Fidel. Stay with him tonight and for as long as he needs you. Comfort him.
He will need your love and friendship more than ever!”
    Fidel was
silent during the walk to Santiago’s home. He wanted to lighten the air but did
not know what to say.
    “What did your
mother tell you?”
    Santiago asked
the question as though he knew something had transpired between them. He turned
to Fidel and looked deeply in his eyes.
    “I must know!
I think I do already..., but please tell me.”
    Fidel knew he
had to tell the truth, for Santiago already suspected the worse and perhaps
believed that both his parents were dead.
    “Santi, mama
told me she heard that your mother was killed when she was unable to get out of
the house in time. She was trapped beneath the rubble and your father was
himself caught in the eruption, here in the village. She died before he could
return to save her. I'm sorry... I know how much you loved her.”
    If he could
have taken Santiago’s pain as his own he would have done so willingly. He loved
Santiago so deeply that he could have given his life for him. The sadness he
saw in his lover’s eyes brought him close to tears, but he also saw something
he had never seen before. It took him some moments to recognize that the fire
that blazed from those once-sweet eyes was of hate.

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