The Day the Rebels Came to Town Read Online Free

how to build things that last.” They passed the hairdresser’sand the place where an old man ground coffee and corn for a few pesos. They passed the town’s only store, where people bought fruit, meat, and milk.
    They reached the southwest corner of the square.
    “How is your foot holding up?” asked Father Alvarez.
    “To tell the truth, it’s starting to hurt a little. My side as well. Though they weren’t hurt as badly, I think these damn ribs are going to take longer to heal than my foot.”
    “You wouldn’t happen to be a little thirsty, would you?”
    “As a matter of fact, I am.”
    “In that case, there’s a man who would like to meet you.”
    Carlos smiled. They were steps from the town tavern, which looked slightly charred from the fire. He followed the two men through swinging doors. The room was dark, small, and filled with five or six rough wood tables. The smell of smoke still hung in the air. The man cleaning glasses behind the bar turned and beamed at them. As he stepped out from behind the bar,Carlos noticed that his arm was wrapped in a large bandage.
    “Welcome,” he said. “Please. Sit. My name is Fernando. Whatever you want... it’s on the house.”
    “Really, you don’t have to treat me.”
    “It’s the least I can do,” he said. “Please...”
    Carlos worked himself into a chair. Resting his wounded foot felt good. Fernando rushed off and came back with four beers. He sat and joined them. After a few sips, he said, “You know, while they were in my tavern the rebels were talking about coming back that night. Can you believe it?”
    Fernando looked up. Carlos did, too, and saw that the ceiling was a mess of splinters and bullet holes.
    “And then, when I dared to suggest they pay their bill, they poured tequila on a table top and lit a match. The tequila burst into flames, and that was the fire you saw. Of course, the fire was easy to put out, but I burned my arm. And still they were saying they’d be back for more.”
    “It’s this damn war,” said Antonio. “It has lost all meaning. Each side has been taken overby killers and thieves. It’s all about money now. The people who sell guns and bullets won’t let it stop. I suppose all wars are that way.”
    “Of course,” said the priest. “Of course.”
    Fernando looked at Carlos. “Either way, you did me a great favour, Carlos Orozco.”
    There it was again. This stupid idea that somehow Carlos’s actions had caused the rebels to leave. His face reddened, and he felt angry. He had shot himself in the foot. It was the action of a coward. He was just about to explain this when church bells started ringing, even though it was not the top of the hour. The four men all looked in the direction of the street. Antonio rose, and pushed open the tavern doors. Sunlight speared the gloom and travelled to the rear wall of the bar. Dust hung in the air.
    Carlos watched as Antonio stopped a middle-aged woman who was racing past the door.
    “What’s happening?” he called to her.
    “Haven’t you heard?” she yelled back. “It’s the mayor!”

Chapter Five

    Shortly after Carlos awoke the next day, he heard a slight knocking at the door of his room. The sun had already reached the highest point in the sky.
    “Just a minute,” he called.
    He struggled to his feet and opened the door. Linda was standing there, holding a suit of clothing.
    “Linda,” he said with a smile.
    “You’ve missed the funeral Mass,” she told him. “But they haven’t buried him yet. Hurry.”
    She passed Carlos the suit. He thanked her, and watched as she left the house. As he dressed, he thought about the old mayor. Even though he was eighty-two years old, he had gone hunting fordeer in the hot, noon-hour sun. An hour later, his horse had trotted back into town without a rider. Its arrival had sparked fear in the townsfolk who loved him: had he met a band of rebels or army soldiers? A few men armed themselves as best they could and went