Inocencio Page #4

"Inocencio" by Rex Ellingwood Beach is a novel set in the early 20th century that explores themes of love, passion, and the complexities of human relationships. The story follows the life of Inocencio, a character navigating the challenges of his environment, influenced by socio-economic struggles and personal desires. Beach's rich storytelling and vivid characterizations bring to life the struggles and triumphs of individuals caught in the tides of fate, making it a compelling read that reflects on the nature of identity and resilience.

• Short story

								

San Blas men, so he shouted a warning, but, strangely enough, they made
no answer. They only crouched, with paddles motionless, staring at the
dimming figures facing them, until the Espirita, "wing and wing" ahead
of the trades, was no larger than a seagull. As yet they had not learned
of the other tragedy hidden in the shadow of the palms; had they
suspected what lay weltering at the edge of a trampled moonlit glade
behind them, no threat of Inocencio's, no plea of his new-found woman,
could have held them back.

Once the schooner was under way, the Haytian led the girl to the
deck-house and thrust her roughly inside, closing the hatch. Then with
his own hands he took his craft through the reef and out into the
leaping Caribbean. Not until the San Blas coast was a mere charcoal line
upon the port quarter and the salt spray was driving high did he deliver
over the helm. At last, however, he gave his crew instructions for the
night and went below, closing and bolting the hatch behind him. When the
smoky lamp that swung between the bunks was lit and its yellow gleam had
illumined the interior he saw the girl's eyes fast upon him. He went
toward her across the tilting floor and she arose to meet him, smiling.

II

Señor Bill Williams was in a fine rage. "Didn't you like your job?" he
questioned.

Inocencio shrugged languidly. "Oh yes! The job was good."

"You knew I'd fire you!"

"Si!"

The American tempered his indignant glare with a hint of curiosity. "You
must love that San Blas girl."

"What do you say?"

"You must love her--better than your job at least?"

"Si, señor. I suppose so."

"What is she like, Inocencio?"

"Well, she is just like other women. All women are alike--only some are
fat. One time I had a female from Martinique, and she acted just the
same as this one."

"Humph! If she is like all the others, what the devil made you--do it?"

"Señor, you have plenty of money, and yet one night I saw you bet two
thousand pesos on the rouge. Why did you do that, eh?"

"That is altogether different."

The Haytian smiled. "I am tired of these females at Colon. They are
common people--very common. Then, too, those San Blas people, they are
so scared that somebody is going to steal a woman! Maybe if they had
left me asleep on shore I would never have noticed no woman at all. But
they don't trust me, so, sure enough--I steal one."

"And you say she came willingly?" queried Williams, incredulously.

"Oh yes! When her people commanded her to jump from my schooner she
refused them. I did not understand at the time, but by an' by she told
me." He swelled his chest with pride. "I guess she never seen so brave a
man as me before. Eh, señor?"

"Humph! I guess I never will sabe you niggers," acknowledged the
American.

Inocencio corrected his recent employer, but without show of the
slightest heat:

"I am no n*gger, señor; I am Haytian. She is San Blas Indian. My father
was not even so dark as me. Black men have thick heads and you have to
beat them, but nobody ever beat me, not even a white man. When those
niggers sleep I lie awake and study; I make schemes. That is why I left
Hayti."

"Do you understand that you've got me into a hell of a fix? I've got to
take a trip down there myself to square things."

Inocencio lighted a black cigarette and blew the smoke through his nose.
Evidently other people's troubles did not concern him. Recognizing the
futility of reproach or indignation, the former speaker continued:

"But see here, now! This girl! You can't keep her."

"Eh? Who's going to take her away?" interrogated the Haytian, quickly.
"Bah! One man tried that, and--I killed him with my machete." His thin
lips drew back at the memory, and for an instant his yellow face showed
a hint of what had made his reputation.

"She won't stay with you."

"Oh yes, she will. She was wild, very wild at first, but--she will
stay."

"And how about her people? They're bad hombres. Even the government
lets them alone--fortunately for you."

"They won't make no trouble about that Markeeña. He is quite dead, I
think."

"By Jove! You're a cold-blooded brute!"

"Señor! You told me once that nobody had ever married a San Blas female,
eh?"

"Yes. Even the old Spaniards tried it, but the blood is clean, so far;
something unusual, too, in this country."

Inocencio began to laugh silently, as if at a joke. "Some day, maybe,
you will see a San Blas half-breed playing in the streets of Colon,"
said he.

"I don't believe it."

"I'll bet you my wages--two hundred pesos. Come! I'll show you."

"You get out of here," said the American, roughly. "That's something I
don't allow anybody to joke about." And, when the mulatto had gone, he
continued aloud: "By Heaven! this is sure a tough country for a white
man!"

Inocencio strode through the streets toward the swamp that lies behind
the town, oblivious to the grilling midday heat that smote him from
above, from the concrete walks beneath, and from the naked walls on
every side. It was before the days of the American occupation, and the
streets were nothing more than open cesspools, the stench from which
offended sorely. Buzzards flapped among the naked children at play in
the mire beside the sewer ditches.

The place was filled with everything unhealthy, and had long been known
as the earth's great festering sore. Neither the Orient nor the farthest
tropics boasted another spot like Colon, or Aspinwall, as it had been
called, with its steaming, hip-deep streets and its brilliant flowering
graveyards. So hateful had it proved, in fact, that when seamen signed
articles binding themselves to work their ships into any corner of the
globe they inserted a clause exempting them from entering Aspinwall.

Now, however, the town was lively, for this was the dry season, when the
fever was at its lowest, and the resorts were filled with the flotsam
and jetsam of a tropic world. It was a polyglot town, moreover, set upon
a fever-ridden mangrove isle serving as one terminus of the world's
short cut, and in it had collected all the parasites that live upon the
moving herd.

The French work of digging had but served to augment the natural
population by a no less desperate set from overseas, and now from the
open doors of their cubbyholes women of every color greeted the
passer-by.

Inocencio, whose last exploit was already a thing of gossip, received
unusual attention, there being no color line in Colon town. White,
yellow, and black women fawned upon him and bade him tarry, but he
merely paused to listen or to fan their admiration by a word, then idled
onward, pleased at the notice he evoked.
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