The teacher was deeply worried. He had thought about this moment many times. He was never convinced that Leonor should have the baby in the village. But, what reasons could he have? Every time that there was a chance to go to Zaci so that she could be attended by a doctor or an experienced mid-wife, she didn't want to go. Since the first time that they talked about it, although he tried to be delicate, he realized that nothing could change his wife's attitude. And it was natural. Didn't all the women in the village have their babies right there? By themselves, with the help of only one or two of the old women of the town. That's the way it had always been and that the way it would be. His worry wasn't only because of the circumstances; it was more because of Leonor's frailness during the last part of her pregnancy. After that persistent fever that during more than two weeks had caused a noticeable deterioration of her health, and a weakness from which she hadn't really recovered.

Leonor had already been in labor for almost a day, and according to the old woman, it would still be a while until the baby was born.

Sitting in the back of the little kitchen, he saw Jacinto coming, who sat down at his friend's side and asked

"How are things going, Marcelo?"

"I don't know, I can't see, but I have the impression that it isn't going very well.

Don't you think that her labor has gone on too long?"

"Don't worry, everything will be fine" pointed out Jacinto. "I remember when my first child was born. I had the same fear as you do, you'll see everything will be all right. I remember that when the first one was born, it took along time. Jacinto talked quietly trying to calm and give confidence to the young teacher

"But your wife isn't just young, she is also strong, on the contrary, Leonor is very delicate, as you can see", answered Marcelo, "the truth is that I can't relax and I think I made a mistake in not taking her Valladolid."

"Do you really think that you could have done that?" said Jacinto,

"Even if Leonor had accepted, the long trip would have been too much for her, especially when it was so close to her time, don't you think?"

Marcelo heard a quiet groan from inside the house.

He got up, crossed the threshold and went to the almost dark house. The flame of a candle let him see the shape of his wife on the floor with her knees spread. She was held on each side by the strong hands of the midwives. A look of pain and the pearls of sweat on her forehead made him feel a sharp pain in his chest.

"What are they doing?" What are you doing kneeling on the floor?"

"Professor," said one of the old women "You'd better leave so she can help us."

The pain in her abdomen had stopped Leonor felt her muscles relax. She opened her hands, closed from the effort, and looking at her husband said,

"Leave the house, if you don't, I won't be able to do this. Don't worry everything is going to be alright."

Marcelo approached his wife and dried her sweat from her forehead.

He twice caressed her hair. He tried to make her feel the calm and confidence he didn’t really feel. The expression on Leonor's face made him fear the worst.

The old women looked at him indifferently until one of them with a movement of her head indicated that he had to leave. He knew that in a few seconds the pain would come back, and they would have to concentrate to help the young mother push out the baby.

The teacher was leaving the room when he heard the repressed cry of his wife in her new effort.

Jacinto watched the anguish of his friend. The repressed moans of his sister made him understand that the decisive moment was near.

The whole night, every time he approached the house, he noticed the restlessness and nervousness of his friend.

At first he wasn't very worried, but as almost a whole day wore on, he too felt the same worry and anguish.

His parents had left only to eat. His mother didn't want to leave, but she obeyed Don Silvano and had gone to rest for a while. He thought that he would have to spend another night in vigil.

Marcelo thought about the time that had transpired since his union with Leonor. Almost a year, in which except for two trips to Zaci to visit his mother and buy merchandise and utilities, for his house and for the school, he had not separated from his young wife. Including the trip to Chuum poom for the baptism of Jacinto baby son, when he was the godfather, he had tried to postpone not to leave his wife who was just recovering for her sickness.

He tried to think of something and forced his memories into the past so not to think about this terrible moment. Jacinto shook him of his thoughts.

"Marcelo, I asked you something. Didn't you hear me?"

"Tell me and forgive my distraction" he answered.

"I asked you if you had chosen a name for the baby, if it's a boy, what will you name him? And if it's a girl?"

"If it's a boy, he will be named after me, and if it's a girl, it will be named after your mother and your sister, Maria Leonor what do you think"

"Give it your name, "he answered we have that custom with the first boy"

"We do too, we have thought about it but there will be time, for the others, won't there?

Jacinto smiled. He was pleased.

"It will be dark soon, Jacinto, I hope to God the baby will be born soon," Marcelo came back to the subject.

Jacinto didn't answer. From inside of the house, a repressed, prolonged cry made both of them to jump up. Seconds later, it was repeated. Marcelo tried to go in, but Jacinto held him back.

"Let me go in, Jacinto"

"You mustn't do it, you will only be in the way, I know what I'm talking about," a few seconds later, and a sustained and terrible cry made Marcelo break away from Jacinto. He went into the room at almost the same time as the mid-wife was coming out visibly upset.

Marcelo didn't stop, forcing his eyes he saw Leonor in the hammock, exhausted by the supreme effort, the last of the birth. The other old woman was wrapping the purplish body of the newborn in the cotton cloth. He went to his wife and caressed her face. She opened her eyes and looked at him. Her pale, but peaceful face changed when she saw her husband. With a weak smile she asked in whisper "Is it a boy, Marcelo?"

The old woman holding the baby in her arms nodded.

"Is he alright?" She asked again.

The crying of the baby calmed her fears

"Leave, please," said the old woman coming back into the room with more clothes and rags in her hand, " We haven’t finished with her yet. Go, so we can finish".

"Don't go Marcelo," begged Leonor, "Don't leave me alone." But the old women insisted "I'll be right back, I am right here in the door don't be afraid".

As he came out, Jacinto and his parents asked him silently

"I think she's alright. The baby is crying. Don't you hear it? It's a boy; the mid-wife made me leave, because they haven't finished yet. I haven't had time to see him. It's very dark in there. Can't we get more candles?

"I'll be right back with more candles," said Jacinto as he turned to go to his house.

"Don't take too long, I'm going back in as soon as they say I can. Leonor didn't want me to leave. Why don't you go in, Doña Maria, I'm sure they let you in."

Jacinto's mother went in.

"How are you, my daughter?".

Leonor answered, a suave sensation of relief invaded her body. With her eyes closed, she heard her mother. She half opened them in the semi-dark. And turned slowly toward the mid-wife who was holding her baby.

"Let me see him," she said quietly "bring him to me, put him in my arms."

The old woman put the baby in Leonor's right arm. Wrapped in a soft cotton cloth, which she had embroidered with her own hand. An intense feeling of well being invaded her. All her suffering was behind her. How happy Marcelo will be! I always knew it was going to be a boy"

Leonor closed her eyes letting herself taken by the lovely sensation of sleep. She was so tired. The effort of the last hours had been exhausting. She let herself go completely and in a few seconds she was sound asleep.

Almost an hour had gone by, Marcelo calculated, since minutes after his baby's first cry when he went in again to see his wife and left again because the old woman had sent him out because she was asleep. When his sister-in-law, Carmen, came out of the house. Marcelo got up to go in before asking. Is it all over...?"

Carmen's tears alarmed him "The placenta has come out, but she is very weak."

"She is only asking for you since she woke up," Marcelo went in.

He entered quickly. He took her hand while he kneeled next to the hammock. One of the old women took the baby again, while the other changed the rags soaking with the new mother's blood. Marcelo noticed this ... "Would that be normal?". How do you feel, do you feel alright?" He asked his wife.

"I am only very tired, I am very sleepy. Have you seen our baby?" she quietly whispered.

Marcelo put his head next to hers while he caressed her hair. Leaning over he gave her a soft kiss on her eyes

"Why don't they change the candles?" asked Leonor. "They are going out, I can hardly see." He could hardly hear her voice. Marcelo was frightened the flames will lively and strong, "Was it for her weakness?"

He felt the pressure of Leonor's fingers on his right hand.

Leaning over, he buried his face in his wife's shoulder. He felt her soft hair and cold skin of her cheeks.

Both of their tears mixed together in their light embrace.

"Don't cry Marcelo, I want you to promise me something..." her voice was scarcely audible in her husband's ear.

"Tell me that you will never leave our son. When you leave here, promise me you will take him with you... and that you will be always at his side."

Marcelo held back his sobs that closed throat, his tears, he couldn't hold them back any longer.

"I don't have to promise you anything"- he said to his wife-

"You will always take care of him"

"Hold me tight, Marcelo, I am cold" said Leonor with her last breath.

Marcelo felt a slight pressure of Leonor's fingers in his hand...

Then, the pressure ceded until the hand was lifeless.

He separated from his wife's face and in the candlelight, he noticed the relaxed and tranquil face of his wife. Marcelo couldn't hold back his sobs, he buried his head in Leonor's cold face.

A few steps away Jacinto and his family were witnesses to the scene.

Doña Maria cried in Don Silvano's arms, Jacinto felt the tears that slid down his cheek. It had been years since he cried, many years.

The death of Leonor affected Marcelo profoundly; his enthusiasm, his young idealism, his spirit to fight crashed with reality. The next days after her death passed through his mind as images hidden in deep fog. Not even, his son, nursed by and under the care of Carmen, could change his thoughts. Jacinto watched him and with delicate respect to his sentiments and silence, tried not to distract him from his thoughts.

He understood and felt in his own flesh the pain of his friend because of the death of Leonor.

Days later, at nightfall, he went to the teacher's house. He found him resting in his hammock, hiding in his own silence and solitude.

"Have you eaten? Don't you want to go to my house? Carmen prepared atole and tamales... Let's go. It's time to eat"

"I thank you, but I'm not hungry" answered Marcelo.

"That's what you always say when I come to invite you to eat; you have to eat... you can't imagine how much weight you have lost. You hardly even eat. If you keep on like this you are going to get sick."

Do you think that only you have felt the death, of Leonor? What about my mother? and us.... Do you must think of your son?..."

Marcelo listened to his friend. After a few seconds in silence he answered.

"Don't worry Jacinto, I know what happened are things of fate. It is a blow we didn't expect. When one suffers is when he understands what it means to lose his most beloved person. I remember when my father died. I felt pity, but not pain. I have been thinking a lot in these days, in my son, in you, in myself, and also in my mother in Zaci.

I have decided now. I will stay here until the next vacation. My son is in good hands with your wife. Then I will go to prepare things to come back for him, when he is a few months old, then he will be able to travel"

Carmen will nurse him until I take him to my mother. She will take care of him. I don't think there is another choice. I don't think I will ever come back to Tok'tuunich. It will be very painful for me to leave, but it is more painful my life here with my memories, besides my mother is alone, and I can't leave her to take care of the baby alone."

"If you want to leave the baby longer, we will have him as if he were our own son"-interrupted Jacinto.

"I couldn’t do it, Jacinto, besides I promised Leonor in her last moments, when she felt her life escaping that I will never, ever forget."

Jacinto didn't answer. His silence was the tacit acceptance of his friend's words.

Weeks went by until the day of good-bye arrived.

The school year finished and the teacher made the preparation for the trip to Zaci.

Minutes before leaving, in Jacinto's house, Carmen's tears moved the teacher.

"Take God care of him, Carmen, I'll come back soon for him."

With a prolonged hug, Marcelo said good-bye to his friend. Both of them were aware that this separation would be definite.

When the teacher come back for his son, the days that they would be together on the trip and his stay in Zaci, wouldn't be the same. Both of them knew that from then on, their paths would be different.

When the teacher came through the little square guiding his horse toward the road to Tihosuco, he watched the children, who stopped their games to look him in a silent good-bye.

Some parents, in the doors of their houses, dared to lift their hands timidly to say good-bye. They knew that other chapter had closed in their town.

When Marcelo entered in the jungle, a few minutes later, the days lived in Tok'tuunich passed though his mind.

His thoughts turned to Zaci and to his mother who didn't know anything about what he had just lived through.