Lazarillo of Tormes | Page 9

too,
so a lot of the time she was around the stables. She and a dark
man--one of those men who took care of the animals-- got to know
each other. Sometimes he would come to our house and wouldn't leave
till the next morning; and other times he would come to our door in the
daytime pretending that he wanted to buy eggs, and then he would
come inside.
When he first began to come I didn't like him, he scared me because of
the color of his skin and the way he looked. But when I saw that with
him around there the food got better, I began to like him quite a lot. He
always brought bread and pieces of meat, and in the winter he brought
in firewood so we could keep warm.
So with his visits and the relationship going right along, it happened
that my mother gave me a pretty little black baby, and I used to bounce
it on my knee and help keep it warm.
I remember one time when my black stepfather was playing with the
little fellow, the child noticed that my mother and I were white but that
my stepfather wasn't and he got scared. He ran to my mother and
pointed his finger at him and said, "Mama, it's the bogeyman!" And my
stepfather laughed: "You little son-of-a-bitch!"
Even though I was still a young boy, I thought about the word my little
brother had used, and I said to myself: How many people there must be
in the world who run away from others when they don't see themselves.
As luck would have it, talk about Zaide (that was my stepfather's name)
reached the ears of the foreman, and when a search was made they
found out that he'd been stealing about half of the barley that was
supposed to be given to the animals. He'd pretended that the bran, wool,
currycombs, aprons, and the horse covers and blankets had been lost;
and when there was nothing else left to steal, he took the shoes right off
the horses' hooves. And he was using all this to buy things for my
mother so that she could bring up my little brother.
Why should we be surprised at priests when they steal from the poor or
at friars when they take things from their monasteries to give to their

lady followers, or for other things, when we see how love can make a
poor slave do what he did?
And they found him guilty of everything I've said and more because
they asked me questions and threatened me too, and I answered them
like a child. I was so frightened that I told them everything I
knew--even about some horseshoes my mother had made me sell to a
blacksmith.
They beat and tarred my poor stepfather, and they gave my mother a
stiff sentence besides the usual hundred lashes: they said that she
couldn't go into the house of the Commander (the one I mentioned) and
that she couldn't take poor Zaide into her own house.
So that matters wouldn't get any worse, the poor woman went ahead
and carried out the sentence. And to avoid any danger and get away
from wagging tongues, she went to work as a servant for the people
who were living at the Solano Inn then. And there, while putting up
with all kinds of indignities, she managed to raise my little brother until
he knew how to walk. And she even raised me to be a good little boy
who would take wine and candles to the guests and do whatever else
they told me.
About this time a blind man came by and stayed at the inn. He thought
I would be a good guide for him, so he asked my mother if I could
serve him, and she said I could. She told him what a good man my
father had been and how he'd died in the battle of Gelves for the holy
faith. She said she trusted God that I wouldn't turn out any worse a man
than my father, and she begged him to be good to me and look after me,
since I would be an orphan now. He told her he would and said that I
wouldn't be a servant to him, but a son. And so I began to serve and
guide my new old master.
After he had been in Salamanca a few days, my master wasn't happy
with the amount of money he was taking in, and he decided to go
somewhere else. So when we were ready to leave, I went to see my
mother. And with both of us crying she gave me her blessing and said,
"Son, I know