The Infinite Plan by Isabel Allende Read Free Book Online Page B

suicide by standing in front of a train because he could not bear the shame of having the world know he wore the horns. Someone saw him smoking calmly, standing between the rails, and shouted at him to jump off the track because the locomotive was coming, but he stood right where he was. Juan José had heard the gossip before the tragedy occurred. The Morales and Reeves children were the first to show up at the death scene, and once they had overcome their initial fear, they helped pick up the pieces—until the police ran them off. Juan José had kept a finger as a souvenir, but when he began to see the dead man everywhere he realized he had to give up his trophy. It was too late to return it to any of the kin, because all the other bits and pieces of the suicide had been buried some days before. The boy, frightened by the soul in pain, did not know how to dispose of the finger: throwing it on the trash heap or feeding it to the Reeveses’ boa did not seem a very respectful way to atone for his affront. Secretly, Gregory consulted Olga, and she suggested the perfect solution: very quietly to leave it on the church altar, a consecrated place where no soul in its right mind could feel offended. Padre Larraguibel, whom everyone simply called “Padre” because of the difficulty of pronouncing his name, found it there. The priest was a Basque with a tormented soul, but he was a practical man and without a word he threw the finger down the toilet. He had too many problems with his numerous parishioners to waste time digging into the origin of a single finger.
    Gregory and Judy Reeves attended school for the first time in their lives. They were the only blue-eyed blonds in a population of Latin immigrants in which the rule of survival was to speak Spanish and to run like a deer. Students were forbidden to speak their native language in school; they were to learn English in order to integrate more quickly. When someone let a Spanish word slip out where the teacher could hear, he rated a couple of whacks to his backside. If English was all Jesus needed to write the Bible, the world had no need of any other languages, was the explanation for such strict measures. Out of defiance, the children spoke Spanish whenever they could, and anyone who did not was regarded as a besa-culo —ass-kisser being the worst epithet in the student repertory. Judy and Gregory had been quick to sense racial antagonism and were afraid that if they made the slightest misstep they would be beaten to a pulp. The first day of classes, Gregory was so frightened he could not get a word out, not even to say his name.
    â€œWe have two new students,” said the teacher, smiling, enchanted to have two white children among so many dark skins. “I want you to treat them well and help them study and learn the rules of this institution. What are your names, my dears?”
    Gregory was mute, clinging to his sister’s dress. Finally Judy rescued him.
    â€œI am Judy Reeves, and this dunce is my brother,” she announced. All the class, including the teacher, burst out laughing. Gregory felt something warm and sticky in his trousers.
    â€œAll right, you may sit down,” she told them.
    Two minutes later Judy began to hold her nose and glare at her brother with a fierce expression. Gregory fixed his eyes on the floor and tried to imagine he wasn’t there, that he was riding down the road in the truck in the open air, that his father had never got sick and that the damned school didn’t exist, that it was all only a nightmare. Soon the smell reached the other children, who began stamping and hooting.
    â€œLet’s see now, who was it?” the teacher asked, wearing a false smile that looked as if it were pasted to her teeth. “There is nothing to be ashamed of; it was an accident, it could happen to anyone. . . . Who was it?”
    â€œI did not dirty my pants, and my brother didn’t either, I swear