The Parable of Doña Éllèna

Chapter 1 On a beautiful Sunday morning in early spring, the sun rose over a homey little ranchero in the far West. The sound of a rooster crowing blended with an orchestration of bird songs. You could hear a horse whinny in the barn. If anyone had been watching that sunrise, he would have ached with the beauty of it. But there was no human life to behold. There wasn't a sign of human life for miles around. This ranchero sat right on the edge of a vast desert that stretched as far as the eye could see. There was a log house on the ranchero. It had a porch the full length of its front side which faced the old rutted road. The road disappeared into the desert just about half a mile beyond the log house. The front door of the house was in the middle of the front wall. There was a big window on the left that looked into the living room and a small window on the right that looked into a bedroom. If anyone had looked into that small window, he would have been shocked at what he saw. It appeared that Ellen White had died in the night. It would be a terrible shock for her twelve year old daughter, Theresa. They shared the same bed. Theresa was very thin - too thin - but she was beautiful. Her hair was blond and her complexion was like peaches and cream. She slept peacefully on her side as the first sun rays touched her and made her hair shimmer. Ellen lay beside her on her back. She appeared to be stiff. Her eyes were wide open and staring. She never moved a muscle. Her face was just skin stretched over bone. Her hair was thin and matted together on her head. But a closer look would reveal that there was still life in that body. There was very faint breathing and a barely discernible pulse in the neck. Ellen could not appreciate the songs of the birds or the early morning sunlight. They could not penetrate the fog in her brain. There was something more compelling deep inside her that ordered her awake. She felt herself rising as if from a deep pit. Everything in her fought that voice, but finally she opened her eyes. She lay there motionless. "Sit up," the inner voice ordered. Ellen obeyed. "Put your feet on the floor." "Walk to the basin." "Wash your face." Ellen had to concentrate on every act separately. But finally she was awake. "I've got to keep living. For her sake, I've got to live through another day - and hope that God will save us," Ellen murmured to herself as she glanced over at Theresa. If anyone had watched Ellen dress, they could have counted every one of her bones. But no one watched - least of all Ellen. She had long since finished with all self interest. She didn't even look at her face in the little looking glass. It never crossed her mind to comb her hair. She didn't ask herself how long it had been since it was combed. She didn't look. She didn't think. It was just a matter of survival now. She just wanted to live long enough to die with Theresa. The one goal of her life was not to leave Theresa alone. There was only one thing that Ellen dreaded worse than getting up in the morning; that was going to bed at night. Would they come in the daytime or would they come at night? One thing was sure; they would come - soon - and there was no way they could fight them off this time. Almost every night, another one of the ranch hands slipped away into the desert, hoping to escape. At last count, they were down to six men. When El Diego came, he would have a small army with him. When Ellen opened her bedroom door, she saw that Jake was already up and building the fire. Since the day that Clay had died, Jake had slept on the floor in the living room. A great grief filled Ellen's bosom and brought tears to her eyes as she looked at Jake's bent back. "He'll be with me to the end," she thought. "He's a good man and yet he's doomed to die - all because of me. No, not just me. It was Clay's greed and foolishness. But whatever the cause, he'll stick with me like a friend that sticks closer than a brother. Oh God, for Jake's sake, won't You help us? He's too young and too good to die like this!" Jake straightened up and looked around at her and his grim face only increased her grief. "Well, what's the bad news for today?" she asked. "Scotty disappeared las' night. We're down ta five." There was an edge of bitterness in his voice. Ellen walked over and looked out the window toward the desert. "I pray that he makes it," she spoke softly, but Jake heard. "I hope he dies of thirst. He's a coward! If yer gonna pray, pray fer the ones who're here," he snapped. "I do pray for you. Every day. All the time. I don't want to see you die, Jake. You're too young, and too good. You've been like a brother to me. I don't want any of the boys to die. If it were just me, I would give myself up, but somehow I can't bring myself to give Theresa over to him. Not yet anyway. Do you understand that, Jake?" Jake came over and grabbed her by the shoulders and shook her. "You git that foolish thinkin' right outta yer head. Don't even think about givin' yerself up! Or Theresa! I've seen what he does ta women. It's better ta die fightin'. An' don't think you'd save our lives by doin' it either. The only way he'd ever let us live is if we joined him and became like him. Those of us who are stayin' are stayin' on principle. We know what we're doin'. We've talked it all out. You and Theresa are just part of the principle. We'd rether die than be that kinda men!" By this time he was shouting. "Okay, Jake. Don't shout. You'll waken Theresa. It's settled. We'll fight it out together - right to the end." Jake gave himself a little shake and said, "What was I shoutin' 'bout, anyway? I reckon I'm just as tight as a bobcat 'bout to spring." Ellen nodded. "I guess we all are." "I was thinkin' last night," Jake went on, "and I've got a plan. It's not a very pretty picture, but I think yer gonna have to explain it all out to Theresa, too, if it'sa gonna work." Ellen began to frown slightly. "What plan?" she asked hesitantly. "Well, ya know how I was sayin' he don't treat women too good?" Ellen nodded. "And how it would be better to die fightin'?" She nodded again. "Well, it wouldn't be no good fer all us men ta git killed and leave you two women to El Diego. That wouldn't keep my promise ta Clay and sure wouldn't help ya out none. So here's my plan... We'll git as many of Diego's men as we can. I'll give Clay's gun ta you and roun' one up fer Theresa. But we won't use up all our ammunition. When it's almost gone, you and Theresa kin walk right out in the open with yer guns on ol' Diego hisself. Shoot him if ya kin, but I reckon they'll shoot ya down first. But jus' in case they should wound ya and not kill ya, I'll save three bullets. One for you and Theresa, then one fer myself. But if'n we're lucky at all, we'll git shot fightin'. From what I see, that's the easiest way ta go. Lots better than dyin' o' thirst in the desert." Jake fell silent and waited. It had been a long speech for a silent man. "It sounds like a good plan to me. I think it might work. I'm still hoping that help will come, but if not, I agree with your plan. I'll try to explain it to Theresa today. Are you sure you can do it, Jake?" "I kin do it," he answered matter-of-factly. When Ellen turned, she saw Theresa standing in the doorway. Her face was as white as snow. She had heard it all. "Are we all going to die?" she asked in a whisper. Ellen went quickly to put her arms around her before she answered. "Unless God sends us a miracle, we will all die. You've got to trust Jake and me that it's better to die than for El Diego to take you." "I believe you," Theresa whispered again. Jake had been very convincing. "Now, Theresa, not only must you stay inside the house, but if any strangers come around, you must hide yourself in the bedroom. I know this is hard on you, but try to understand it's for your own good."