Wild Penance Read Online Free Page B

“I don’t know. Maybe I inherited it from my mother. She wrote poetry.”
    He glanced intently at me. “What you wrote about is an ancient tradition—making penance. But there are also the traditions of giving, of service to the community, of charity, of healing. All the traditions of Los Penitentes and their sister order, Las Carmelitas, have been tenderly taught from generation to generation in these tiny villages. And some believe that these lovingly maintained customs come from even before we came here.”
    “Tell me about that, Father.”
    He waited, tilted his head to one side to see the door. Then he began speaking almost in song. I was mesmerized by his voice as he told me the story of how Spain had sent Franciscan brothers to colonize the lands that early conquistadors had claimed for the king. Unable to reach all the outlying villages when a priest or brother was needed, they had cultivated a tertiary, or Third Order of lay leaders of the church, who called themselves Los Hermanos de la Luz. The practice of self-flagellation and excessive penance was common in medieval Spain, and some believed that the Franciscans may have introduced these practices here, hence the name Los Penitentes. When the Mexican Revolt cast the Spaniards out, the Franciscans were called home to Spain, leaving Los Hermanos to fend for themselves in religious matters. The unique and exotic practices which developed, including ritual crucifixion, were a result of the remote and isolated nature of the land itself.
    “Of course there is yet another theory,” he said. “Some say that the practices and the brotherhood came up from Mexico in the late 1700s. Many scholars believe this is the more correct of the two. However, there are certain moradas that maintain they were given their original charter in the 1500s. So it is hard to say which is true.”
    I propped my elbow on the table and rested my chin in my hand as I listened to him with fascination.
    “I have a suggestion for your book.”
    This roused me. I sat up at once and pulled the notebook to me, turned to a fresh page, and picked up a pencil.
    “Do you know about El Instituto Religioso de la Santa Hermandad—the Religious Institution of the Holy Brotherhood?”
    I wrote as quickly as I could, trying to keep up. “You mean the tract that was supposed to have been published by Padre Martínez sometime around the 1830s? The one defending the Penitentes when the Church was issuing decrees condemning them?”
    “The very same.”
    “I have read about that, but there are no known copies. It might even be just a legend.”
    “Oh, it is not just a legend, I assure you.” He looked beyond me toward the door. He nodded his head at someone there.
    I turned and looked behind me at a large man in a long black coat. He nodded at me and the padre, then turned and left the coffeehouse. I twisted around again and looked at Father Ignacio.
    He shrugged apologetically. “That is my driver. I have only a few more minutes. Then I must leave.”
    “So about this tract . . .”
    “Do you also know about a man named Pedro Antonio Fresquíz of Las Truchas?”
    “Wait—say that again?” I scribbled as Father Medina repeated the name for me.
    He pointed to the i in Fresquíz. “There is an acute accent there. Look him up. Bring the two things together.”
    I looked at him, confused.
    “Fresquíz and the tract. They will come together. If you search hard enough.”
    “Where would I find—”
    “There is something going on right now. I cannot speak about it. It is not safe. But Los Penitentes are . . . someone is trying to steal their power. I can say no more.”
    I gave him a puzzled look. “I don’t understand.”
    “There are not so many members these days, fewer and fewer of Los Hermanos de la Luz,” he said. “There is also little interest in the true nature of their belief, their role in community life, their bond as brothers, their commitment to service. Instead, they are widely