Castaneda, Carlos – The Second Ring of Power

tered dona Soledad’s room since it had been built, six or seven

years before.

Pablito! Pablito! Bah! she exclaimed in an angry, raspy

voice. What makes you think he’s the only one who can

make things?

We exchanged a long, sustained look, and all of a sudden I

knew that it was she who had made the floor, and that don

Juan had put her up to it.

We stood quietly, looking at each other for some time. I felt

it would have been thoroughly superfluous to ask if I was

correct.

I made it myself, she finally said in a dry tone. The

Nagual told me how.

Her statements made me feel euphoric. I practically lifted

her up in an embrace. I twirled her around. All I could think

to do was to bombard her with questions. I wanted to know

how she had made the slabs, what the designs represented,

where she got the clay. But she did not share my exhilaration.

She remained quiet and impassive, looking at me askance from

time to time.

I paced on the floor again. The bed had been placed at the

very epicenter of some converging lines. The clay slabs had

been cut in sharp angles to create converging motifs that

seemed to radiate out from under the bed.

I have no words to tell you how impressed I am, I said.

Words! Who needs words? she said cuttingly.

I had a flash of insight. My reason had been betraying me.

There was only one possible way of explaining her magnifi-

cent metamorphosis; don Juan must have made her his appren-

tice. How else could an old woman like dona Soledad turn into

such a weird, powerful being? That should have been obvious

to me from the moment I laid eyes on her, but my set of ex-

pectations about her had not included that possibility.

I deduced that whatever don Juan had done to her must

have taken place during the two years I had not seen her, al-

though two years seemed hardly any time at all for such a

superb alteration.

I think I know now what happened to you, I said in a

casual and cheerful tone. Something has cleared up in my

mind right now.

Oh, is that so? she said, thoroughly uninterested.

The Nagual is teaching you to be a sorceress, isn’t that

true?

She glared at me defiantly. I felt that I had said the worst

possible thing. There was an expression of true contempt on

her face. She was not going to tell me anything.

What a bastard you are! she exclaimed suddenly, shaking

with rage.

I thought that her anger was unjustified. I sat down on one

end of the bed while she nervously tapped on the floor with

her heel. Then she sat down on the other end, without looking

at me.

What exactly do you want me to do? I asked in a firm

and intimidating tone.

I told you already! she said in a yell. You and I are the

same.

I asked her to explain her meaning and not to assume for one

instant that I knew anything. Those statements angered her

even more. She stood up abruptly and dropped her skirt to the

ground.

This is what I mean! she yelled, caressing her pubic area.

My mouth opened involuntarily. I became aware that I was

staring at her like an idiot.

You and I are one here! she said.

I was dumbfounded. Dona Soledad, the old Indian woman,

mother of my friend Pablito, was actually half-naked a few

feet away from me, showing me her genitals. I stared at her,

incapable of formulating any thoughts. The only thing I knew

was that her body was not the body of an old woman. She had

beautifully muscular thighs, dark and hairless. The bone struc-

ture of her hips was broad, but there was no fat on them.

She must have noticed my scrutiny and flung herself on the

bed.

You know what to do, she said, pointing to her pubis.

We are one here.

She uncovered her robust breasts.

Dona Soledad, I implore you! I exclaimed. What’s come

over you? You’re Pablito’s mother.

No, I’m not! she snapped. I’m no one’s mother.

She sat up and looked at me with fierce eyes.

I am just like you, a piece of the Nagual, she said. We’re

made to mix.

She opened her legs and I jumped away.

Wait a minute, dona Soledad, I said. Let’s talk for i

while.

I had a moment of wild fear, and a sudden crazy thought

occurred to me. Would it be possible, I asked myself, that don

Juan was hiding somewhere around there laughing his head

off?

Don Juan! I bellowed.

My yell was so loud and profound that dona Soledad jumped

off her bed and covered herself hurriedly with her skirt. I saw

her putting it on as I bellowed again.

Don Juan!

I ran through the house bellowing don Juan’s name until my

throat was sore. Dona Soledad, in the meantime, had run out-

side the house and was standing by my car, looking puzzled

at me.

I walked over to her and asked her if don Juan had told her

to do all that. She nodded affirmatively. I asked if he was

around. She said no.

Tell me everything, I said.

She told me that she was merely following don Juan’s or-

ders. He had commanded her to change her being into a

warrior’s in order to help me. She declared that she had been

waiting for years to fulfill that promise.

I’m very strong now, she said softly. Just for you. But

you disliked me in my room, didn’t you?

I found myself explaining that I did not dislike her, that

what counted were my feelings for Pablito; then I realized

that I did not have the vaguest idea of what I was saying.

Dona Soledad seemed to understand my embarrassing posi-

tion and said that our mishap had to be forgotten.

You must be famished, she said vivaciously. I’ll make you

some food.

There’s a lot that you haven’t explained to me, I said. I’ll

be frank with you, I wouldn’t stay here for anything in the

world. You frighten me.

You are obligated to accept my hospitality, if it is only for

a cup of coffee, she said unruffled. Come, let’s forget what

happened.

She made a gesture of going into the house. At that moment

I heard a deep growl. The dog was standing, looking at us, as

if he understood what was being said.

Dona Soledad fixed a most frightening gaze on me. Then

she softened it and smiled.

Don’t let my eyes bother you, she said. The truth is that

I am old. Lately I’ve been getting dizzy. I think I need glasses.

She broke into a laugh and clowned, looking through cupped

fingers as if they were glasses.

An old Indian woman with glasses! That’ll be a laugh,

she said giggling.

I made up my mind then to be rude and get out of there,

without any explanation. But before I drove away I wanted to

leave some things for Pablito and his sisters. I opened the trunk

of the car to get the gifts I had brought for them. I leaned way

into it to reach first for the two packages that were lodged

against the wall of the back seat, behind the spare tire. I got

hold of one and was about to grab the other when I felt a soft,

furry hand on the nape of my neck. I shrieked involuntarily

and hit my head on the open lid. I turned to look. The pressure

of the furry hand did not let me turn completely, but I was

able to catch a fleeting glimpse of a silvery arm or paw hover-

ing over my neck. I wriggled in panic and pushed myself away

from the trunk and fell down on my seat with the package still

in my hand. My whole body shook, the muscles of my legs

contracted and I found myself leaping up and running away.

I didn’t mean to frighten you, dona Soledad said apolo-

getically, as I watched her from ten feet away.

She showed me the palms of her hands in a gesture of sur-

render, as if assuring me that what I had felt was not her hand.

What did you do to me? I asked, trying to sound calm and

detached.

She seemed to be either thoroughly embarrassed or baffled.

She muttered something and shook her head as though she

could not say it, or did not know what I was talking about.

Come on, dona Soledad, I said, coming closer to her,

don’t play tricks on me.

She seemed about to weep. I wanted to comfort her, but

some part of me resisted. After a moment’s pause I told her

what I had felt and seen.

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