The Black Pearl (6 page)

Then my father said, "The bag is very small, gentlemen. I doubt that it holds enough money to buy the great Pearl of Heaven."

The four dealers did not like this. One of them, named Arturo Martin, was big and shaped like a barrel and had small white hands.

"I have heard that the pearl is the size of a grapefruit," he said. "In which case we have more money than we need. For as you know the large ones are of little value."

"They do not live long, these monsters," said Miguel Palomares, who was as fat as Martin and had a bald head that glistened. "They often die or become dull before a year passes."

"And so do many of the small ones," my father said. "Like the pink one Señor Palomares sold us last month."

Señor Palomares shrugged his shoulders.

"Before I show the Pearl of Heaven," my father said, "I will tell you the price. It is twenty thousand pesos, no more and no less."

The four men looked at each other and smiled thin smiles, as if to say that they had made up their minds already about what they would pay.

My father went out of the room and came back with the pearl wrapped in a piece of white velvet. He laid it on the table in front of the four dealers.

"Now, gentlemen." With a flourish he unwrapped the pearl and stepped back so all of them could see it. "The Pearl of Heaven!"

The great pearl caught the light, gathered it and softened it into a moon of dark fire. None of the dealers spoke for a moment or two.

Then Señor Martín said, "It is as I feared, more like a grapefruit than a pearl."

"It is a monster all right," Señor Palomares said. "The kind that often has a brief life and is very hard to sell."

One of the dealers who had not spoken cleared his throat and said, "But still we will make an offer."

The other dealers nodded solemnly.

"Ten thousand pesos," said Martin.

Señor Palomares grasped the pearl in a small, white hand and studied it.

"I think that I see a flaw," he said after a long time. "Ten thousand is too much."

"There is no flaw," my father said. "And the price, gentlemen, remains twenty thousand pesos."

The great pearl was passed around to the other dealers and they all turned it in their hands and squinted at it. At last Señor Martin used the calipers and placed the pearl on the scales. His readings were the same as I had made, almost.

"Eleven thousand pesos," he said.

"Nine thousand more is required," my father answered. "In your lives you have never seen a pearl like this one nor will you."

"Twelve thousand," said Señor Palomares.

After that and for most of an hour the price the dealers offered went up two hundred and fifty pesos at a time until the figure reached the sum of fifteen thousand pesos. And then tempers began to rise and my mother brought in a pitcher of cold juice and a platter of buñuelos. I knew that she wanted to take the dealers' offer, for I stood where I could see her in the hall making gestures to my father. She had set her mind on a beautiful red carriage and four white horses she had seen in Loreto and was fearful of losing her wish if my father did not lower the price.

Señor Martin wiped his mouth and said, "Fifteen thousand pesos is our last offer."

"Then," said my father, "I shall take the great pearl to Mexico City and ask twice that amount and sell it without haggling to dealers who know its true worth."

Señor Palomares picked up the pearl and put it down. His small head was sunk deep in the folds of his fat neck. Suddenly his head came forth like the head of a turtle and he looked at my father who was pacing back and forth.

"If you remember," he said, "you made the long journey to the City of México once before. And what did you find there? You found that the dealers are not so generous with their money as we are here in La Paz. And you came home after the long journey with your tail between your legs."

Señor Palomares got to his feet and the others followed him.

"Fifteen thousand, two hundred and fifty pesos," he said. "This is our final offer."

My father had not liked what Señor Palomares had said about the journey to Mexico City, for it had long rankled him. Nor had he liked Palomares's picture of him coming home with his tail between his legs. He stopped pacing and motioned to me.

"Go to the church," he said, "and bring Father Gallardo. Whatever he is doing, see that he comes. Go quickly."

I ran out the door and into the plaza and past the silent crowd, not knowing why I had been sent on such an errand. I found Father Gallardo taking his afternoon siesta. I awakened him after some difficulty and dragged him back to the house. When we reached the patio I heard Señor Martín say, "We offer five hundred more," and my father answer, "The price is twenty thousand pesos."

Everybody fell silent as we came in. The four dealers, who had their heads together, looked up. Señor Palomares was holding the pearl and my father strode over and took it from him. Then my father turned to the priest and bowed.

"Here is the Pearl of Heaven," he said. "My son and I give it to you so that you may give it to the Madonna, our beloved Lady-of-the-Sea, to hold and keep forever."

A scream went up from the hallway. I think it was my mother who screamed, but it might have been my sister, for she too had been dreaming of things she wished to buy. Then the four men silently picked up their instruments and the brown crocodile bag filled with money and put on their hats and left. As he took the great pearl, Father Gallardo tripped over his long robe and began to stutter. As for me, I had not wished for anything especially, so I looked at my father and felt proud that he had bested the four dealers.

Then Father Gallardo recovered his voice and tried to speak calmly.

"We will celebrate the pearl," he said. "It will be the most wondrous celebration La Paz has ever seen in all its history."

But my mother was not pleased with the gift of the pearl nor was she pleased with the idea of celebrating the gift. She ran into the parlor after Father Gallardo had left and tears were in her eyes.

"The beautiful pearl is gone," she sobbed.

"Not gone," said my father. "It will be in the church for everyone to see. And you can go there and see it too."

"I do not wish to see it again," my mother cried. "The Madonna has many pearls. You could have given Her a smaller one."

"Because She has only small pearls, I gave Her a big pearl," my father said.

My mother went over to where he stood and looked up at him and wiped the tears from her eyes.

"That is not the reason," she said. "You gave the great pearl because you were angry with the dealers. You gave it away to spite them."

"No, it was a gift from the House of Salazar," my father said proudly. "And for this gift of the great pearl, the greatest pearl ever found in all the Vermilion Sea, the House of Salazar shall be favored in Heaven, now and forever."

My mother said nothing more, but when Father Gallardo held his celebration she felt a headache and stayed at home.

F
ATHER
G
ALLARDO'S CELEBRATION
took place five days later.

The church blazed with candles, and flowers decked the altar, and the air was sweet with incense. The young Madonna stood in Her niche dressed in a white satin gown, with garlands of daisies braided through Her hair. In Her outstretched hand lay the great black pearl.

The church was filled and the people flowed through the big door and out into the plaza. Never before had our town of La Paz seen such a multitude. They came on foot, on burro and on horseback from as far away as Loreto in the north and Santo Tomás in the south. They even came by canoe from the bare islands of the Vermilion Sea. And there were also a band of Indians from the wild barrancas of the Sierra Morena dressed in rabbit skins. Their presence pleased Father Gallardo.

"The pearl has worked a miracle," he said. "For many years I have tried to coax these savages into my church but failed."

After the services the Madonna was placed on a bower festooned with flowers and borne twice around the plaza while the people sang and danced. Then She was carried down to the sea to bless the Salazar fleet.

This was my father's idea, the blessing of the fleet. It was to show my mother that the great black pearl already had won the favor of Heaven, and a sign that the House of Salazar would always prosper.

And this is why the Madonna was borne down to the sea, and on the shore Father Gallardo stood beside the Madonna with the crowd gathered around him. On the quiet water of the bay rode our five blue boats, each one fresh-painted and strung with streamers of bright paper.

"We ask Your protection for these boats," Father Gallardo said, raising his arms. "Speed them to the pearling grounds and bring them safely home. We ask that You bless the House of Salazar that has so honored our church this day, that they may find another pearl as large as the one they have given."

After Father Gallardo had blessed the fleet, the Madonna was carried through the streets again. In Her hand lay the Pearl of Heaven so that everyone could see it once more. And to the throng that gathered around the Madonna and Her pearl, as the procession wound back to the church, it was a wonderful day. For to those who had little and to those who had nothing, the pearl also belonged to each of them, to dream of the rest of their lives.

When the Madonna was placed in Her niche, I knelt before Her and gave thanks that I had found the pearl that so many now would cherish for their own. And as I walked out of the church, if for a moment I imagined all the boats the pearl would have bought, enough to build a dozen fleets, it was a thought that quickly vanished.

The Sevillano called to me. He was standing outside the church, dressed in tight trousers and a ruffled shirt that was open and showed the tattoos on his chest.

"Well, mate," he said, "it has been a big day, almost as big as the day I found the pearl in the Gulf of Persia. I have heard many stories about your pearl, but how much does it really weigh?"

I told him the true weight, though I felt that whatever I said the one he had found would be larger.

"The pearl from the gulf," he said, "was heavier. Picture one that filled your two hands, and that was the pearl I sold to the Shah of Persia."

"A good one," I said, and as I spoke I was surprised that I did not feel the same about the Sevillano. His bragging no longer annoyed me, or not nearly so much. And now that I had dived in the Vermilion Sea and found the great black pearl, he could not say that I had done nothing nor that I was a coward. "What did it weigh?" I asked him.

"I have forgotten," he said, looking at his boots, suddenly not interested in weights. "Tell me, does your pearl have a flaw?"

"It is not my pearl."

The Sevillano was a scoffer, and this was his way of saying that he did not believe in the Madonna.

"Sure, I know all about that. But does it have a flaw?"

"None," I said. "Not the smallest?"

"None."

"Is it truly round?"

"Yes."

"A round pearl that has no flaws and weighs more than sixty carats is worth..." He whistled through his teeth. Then he lowered his voice. "I have heard you found it at Pichilinque."

"Nearby," I said.

And though he pressed me I would say no more, so we parted with a handshake and I started home. Night was falling. As I drew near the gate a figure stepped out of the shadows and spoke my name. It was the old man from the lagoon, Soto Luzon.

"Did you like the celebration?" I asked him.

He did not speak at once and then not to answer me.

"I saw the Madonna and the pearl," he said. "I saw them go through the plaza and through the streets and down to the sea and I heard every-

one singing." He reached out and put a hand on my shoulder. "You are still a boy and there is much that you do not know. Therefore I must tell you that the pearl does not belong to the Madonna nor to the church nor to the people who were singing. It belongs to the Manta Diablo and someday he will take it back. Of this I solemnly warn you."