The Underdogs by Mariano Azuela Read Free Book Online Page A

curro and have ’im cure you, compadre Demetrio,” Anastasio Montañés said to his leader, who continued to suffer strong chills and fevers every day. “If you could only see, he cured himself and he’s already so much better that he’s walkin’ ’round without even limpin’ no more.”
    But Venancio, who was standing by with his tins of lard and his filthy strips of rags at the ready, protested:
    â€œI cannot be held responsible for whatever happens if anyone else lays a hand on him.”
    â€œListen, compadre, where do you come off thinkin’ you’re such a great doctor? You gonna tell us you’ve forgotten how you came to be here with us?” Quail asked.
    â€œYeah, well, what I remember, Quail, is that you’re with us ’cause you stole a watch and some diamond rings,” Venancio responded, all worked up.
    Quail burst out laughing.
    â€œWell, at least I did that! What’s worse is that you ran away from your town ’cause you poisoned your girlfriend.”
    â€œThat’s a lie!”
    â€œNo, you did. You gave her some Spanish flies, 1 but they didn’t work . . .”
    Venancio’s shouts of protest were drowned out by the clamorous laughter of the other men.
    A pale, grimacing Demetrio made them quiet down. He made some moaning sounds, then said:
    â€œWell, okay then. Go on and bring me the student.”
    Luis Cervantes came. He uncovered Demetrio’s leg, slowly and carefully examined the wound, and shook his head. The ligature, torn from a blanket, had dug into the flesh in the form of a furrow, and the bloated leg seemed about to burst. With each movement, Demetrio bit back a cry. Luis Cervantes cut the ligature, thoroughly washed out the wound, covered the thigh with long, moist linens, and cleanly bandaged everything up.
    Demetrio was able to sleep through that entire afternoon and night. The next day he woke up in much better spirits.
    â€œHe has quite a light touch, that curro ,” he remarked.
    Soon afterward, Venancio said,
    â€œHe’s okay. But we have to remember that curros are like humidity, they seep through everywhere. The fruits of many a revolution have been lost because curros were around.”
    And since Demetrio blindly believed in the science of the barber, when Cervantes came to apply his treatment the next day, he said to him:
    â€œListen, do a good job here so that when I’m good and cured you can go on back home or wherever you want to go.”
    The discreet Luis Cervantes did not say anything at all.
    A week passed, then another. The Federales showed no sign of life. Meanwhile, there was an abundant amount of frijoles and corn in the ranchos in the area, and the people’s hatred of the Federales was such that they were more than willing to provide the rebels with shelter. So Demetrio’s men waited, quite patiently, for their leader to make a complete recovery.
    Luis Cervantes remained dejected and silent for many days.
    But Demetrio started to grow fond of him. Then, after the treatment one day, he said to him, in jest: “From the way you’re goin’ about, I’m starting to think that you’re in love, curro !”
    And eventually Demetrio Macías began taking an interest in the welfare of Luis Cervantes. He asked him if the soldiers were giving him his proper rations of meat and milk. So Cervantes had to tell him that he was eating only what the gentle old women of the rancho were giving him, and that everyone was still looking at him as an unknown or an intruder.
    â€œThey’re good muchachos, curro, ” Demetrio replied. “The key is to know their way. Startin’ tomorrow you’ll have everything you need. You’ll see.”
    Sure enough, things started to change that very day. Later that evening some of Macías’s men were lying on the stony ground, looking up at the clouds of twilight as if they were gigantic blood clots,