Chapter Two: Agua

On the day Carlos was born, the sky over Antigua was a fiery red.


His mother’s bedroom window's faced the volcano called Agua. The local Mayan Kaqchikel people called it Hunapú or "place of flowers". In 1517 Hunapu erupted. A huge mudslide produced a force of water so strong that it destroyed what had been the magnificent colonial city of Antigua. After that, the Spaniards changed its name tothe volcano Agua. Along with another volcano called Fuego, Agua threatened the residents; with periodic rumblings and sputterings of fire. But theirs had been the threat of a loud schoolyard bully, all words and no action. Over the centuries, the people had come to ignore the empty blustering that came from the old mountain.; Only the occasional wealthy tourist or foreign speculator looking to make a quick fortune stood in awe at its feet, watching the hellish lava that it spit out from time to time.


The day Carlos was born, Agua’s smoke choked the sky, and the birds were still. Cassimiro looked out his wife’s bedroom window and said calmly, Angela, have Chona pack a few things for a few days. We’re taking the children and going to Xela. Two days later, Carlos’ baptism was hastily performed in the small Church where his father had been baptized. A few weeks later, the family returned to Antigua, after the aftershocks had stopped, and they felt it safe to return. The earthquake had been relatively minor. The homes of the poorest residents had been destroyed, to no one’s surprise. A few buildings lost some tiles to their roofs, and the church a few stained-glass windows. Over the front entrance of Cassimiro’s family home, a crack the length of a small child scarred the plastered wall.

When Carlos was four years old, his mother gave birth to another son, Luis, her ninth child. One day shortly after Luis was born, Carlos was running in circles on the roof of the house. He loved running up there. From the roof top he could see the entire city and beyond, as their home sat halfway up a mountain at the north end of town. Agua was due South, Fuego West. On the days and nights that Agua was especially active, Carlos would secretly go up to the roof by the back stairs and watch its fires dance. Carlos went up to the roof secretly because his parents had forbidden him to go up there. But that day, Carlos was running freely on the roof. His mother was distracted with Luis who needed a lot of care after his premature birth. His father had gone to Xela on business.

The sun was beginning to set. Carlos continued spinning at the center of the roof, his eyes opened wide, the greens of treetops, the blue of sky and the orange of the setting sun shifting into beautiful shapes of colors and forms. Suddenly a burst of red from Agua exploded into his kaleidoscope. He instantly stopped spinning and rushed to the south end of the roof, but his eyes hadn’t found the horizon to steady his balance, and he misjudged where the roof ended. He flew off the roof and fell to the stone patio below.

By this time the sun had plunged behind the mountains and the cold air began to rush over the town. It was Chona that found him on the ground, unconscious, when she began searching for the children to come to dinner. Otherwise calm during crisis, Chona began to scream. Carlos was her favorite, although she’d never admit to it to anyone, not even herself. Angela heard her scream and rushed outside, holding Luis in her arms. When she saw Carlos on the ground, she handed Luis to Chona and knelt besides him. She leaned over Carlos’ face and felt his wrists—he was breathing, he had a pulse. Barely breathing herself, Angela took Luis from Chona and told her to go into town and bring the doctor back with her. As she went back into the house to find a blanket to cover Carlos, she saw from the corner of her eyes the red fires leaping from Agua in what seemed like a sneering taunt, as if it were sadistically enjoying her pain and suffering.

Carlos survived the fall. Luis, however did not. The cold air entered Luis’ fragile lungs and inflamed them with an infection he couldn’t fight off. Carlos survived, although he almost died. When he awoke, he couldn’t hear or see for a long time. His oldest sister Adela would read to him and encourage him to speak and see. For many years Carlos had dreams that he was flying above the city, above Agua and Fuego. Oddly enough, they weren’t nightmares, but rather pleasant dreams.

As a result of his fall, Carlos broke his left baby toe. It healed finally, but it was permanently crossed over the next toe, like a child’s crossed fingers hidden behind his back as he claims to tell the truth. Carlos’ three children would mercilessly tease him about his malformed baby toe, ignorant to the painful hidden and unspoken memory it held. His granddaughter Amethyst, on the other hand, would look at it with great sadness.