darker one, because of not knowing the true value of things. A reality calibrated to the quantity of coins and bills. Another corral or a different prison, but a much less happy one—or not? and since there was no escape, better to have someone higher up who resolved all the problems: a god, a boss, and therefore further submission to a perfect fit, to stay out of trouble—and uncertainties? In case we have interpreted the peon’s words otherwise: that is to say: harum-scarum, it is worth recording here his conclusion: No matter what, we are slaves to somebody or something, and I prefer to know who it is and what the one who gives me my living is like; as long as he treats me well, right? why dig any deeper? Then, the counterattack: But wouldn’t you like to be like your boss? He is rich and powerful. In the face of such a bold truth there arose a tiny truth: You do realize, sir, that I don’t know how to read or write. A sharp deficiency, the final blow, and a return to silence, not without Demetrio blurting out a crushing commonplace: There’s no doubt about it, we are who we are, would you listen to that! What? Demetrio saying such things. Or rather, once and for all he had to attain a mental toughness that could dispel all sorts of humble arguments. Or rather, his own—how prodigious were they? or rather—what did they settle? So, no further attempts at conceptual largesse, better not to get angry for no reason, but rather to clearly recognize his role: he was nothing more nor less than a masterful manager; he was, therefore, a person who should know about numbers and an infinity of other organizational procedures (what words!) that would put this lackluster ranching business on a firmer footing. Know thyself, in order to fit oneself in and—hey! know that this peon, like those from El Origen and La Igualdad, didn’t count. It’s a matter of language, that’s all, and—what is to be done? None could be his assistant, because none was a problem solver, besides about trifling issues related to provisions. O crass circumstance … so reductive! which also made him feel (now, really) alone—alone! a lonely madman? Unless he had a woman by his side … Renata (fixation), still unattainable … Longing in the ether, damn … Because he was neither a missionary nor an apostle … And the course of that vital truth—put to the test? In fact … it was important for him to know that not even at moments of direst despair should he expose his most mundane thoughts, considering it much more appropriate to emulate the behavior of the peons: their terseness, their lack of expressiveness, their perhaps saintly subjugation.
Blood on his hands: on Benigno’s. Come on. I’m sure there are sinks in Sabinas that have some good soap. And just like that the peon—what a bother!—made the trip. A brute question of haste … Moreover: dawn had barely broken when Benigno began killing animals. In less than two hours he had slaughtered a lamb and three she-goats. Such murderous dexterity put Demetrio on tenterhooks, for he made the following calculations on the side: this ranch hand could kill thirty-two animals in eight hours, as well as slit their bellies, cut them up, and skin them; and if he added up the number the ranch hands at El Origen and La Igualdad could slaughter in the same amount of time … A contest between them, someday, with a prize for the winner, not money but food: an abundant ration of canned goods wouldn’t be so bad; the notion of a feast in the middle of such scarcity; but based on what Don Delfín had said when they were there in Monclova, the sale of meat was by special order, so this time the meat would be sold to the butcher who offered the most; imagine that for a whole month—nothing to sell! ever since the last manager escaped on foot and at night through the desert. Even if there had been orders, there would have been no way to fill them—how? Clearly selling live animals would be more convenient, but the butchers in Sabinas and Nueva Rositas were too lazy to do the slaughtering. So, to return, here we have the meat on this reckless trip, in the sun, of course, because it was daytime, and yes: the carcasses covered with a blue blanket: a