“The fat one or the thin one or the tall one or the short one, or the very ugly one who stinks?”

Felix by Rivera The little nun approached Marta as the girl sat close to the dying fire, smoking the last of a cigarette and working on her tatting. She was alone. She’d gotten a bad knot and was trying to work it out. She looked absurd; the little girl bent over her lace with a cigarette dangling from her lips. This was a thoroughly corrupt place.

Marta liked the little nun. The men were afraid of her. They said she was a leper. She did not know what a leper was but was glad to see the men afraid. She liked it when the men looked stupid or foolish or afraid and this nun’s making them this way pleased her. The little nun never looked up from the ground and spoke into her chest in a tiny, afraid voice. This amused Marta too.

“Where is the one named Jesus?” the little nun spoke into her chest.

“The fat one or the thin one or the tall one or the short one, or the very ugly one who stinks?”

The little nun was not certain which to choose. “The maestro said he was to guard the remuda.”

Marta breathed her smoke and her answer at the little nun. “That’s the thin one.” She pointed with her cigarette butt, “He is over there, in the blue vest.”

“Gracias.” The Mule Tamer II: Chica's Ride