Perspective

This is nothing like what I thought it would be.

Shelly ripped the garland from over the archway and flung it into the plastic storage bin at her feet. Tacks flew around her head and clattered on the tile floor. It didn't matter. She still had to sweep, anyway. Next, she ripped the lights from the stair banister, rolling it around her arm and dropping it into the same bin.

Never in her life had she been so humiliated. Hours and hours she'd spent on dinner, not to mention hundreds of dollars, and all they'd done was complain. The turkey was dry and the gravy lumpy. The rice was too sticky. And, "Shelly, dear, I believe the green beans are a tad overcooked." Never mind that Todd liked them that way. The only thing they'd not complained about was the banana pudding. But of course, sugar was Natalie's weakness. She didn't weigh 300 pounds from eating lettuce or overcooked green beans.

"Ahhhggguh," Shelly growled at the ceiling. She hated being like this. All she'd wanted was a nice family dinner. It was the first time they'd been able to get Todd's parents to come to their house for the holiday. Every holiday had to be spent at their house. She'd even invited her own parents, but they'd declined when they knew Todd's parents were coming. Lucky them.

Exhaling a long sigh, she shook her head and climbed the stairs to the landing to dismantle the decorations there, dragging everything off at once, sending more tacks flying, this time into the carpet.

A glass bauble fell to the carpet, and she kicked it, shattering it against the railing. Backing up to avoid the glass, she squealed at a sharp pain in her foot. She bent over and scowled at the protruding red shard. It sparkled in the light. She pulled it out and hobbled to along the hallway the bathroom to patch up the damage, careful to watch for any other sharp objects out to get a stab at her.

The toilet lid banged as she dropped it. No one ever closed the thing. She didn't know why she bothered. Someone left the box of bandages open and she pulled one out and carefully closed the box and put it back into the first aid basket she kept stocked and rooted around for the anti-bacterial ointment. Next, she grabbed cotton pads and peroxide. Then, medical supplies in hand, she sat down on the toilet seat and examined her foot, noting the blood smeared all over the floor where she had walked. She sighed and shook her head.

It wasn't a bad cut. She cleaned it and put ointment on it and then affixed a bandage to it. It promptly fell off. Shelly stared at the brown adhesive strip on the floor. She forgot they wouldn't stick to foot pads or palms. Sighing through clenched teeth, she looked again at the bloody floor. What a mess.

"Shelly?"

A voice drifted up the stairs from the foyer. Todd was back from taking his parents’ home. It wasn't enough that they roasted her at dinner. The conditions of their attendance were that Todd had to pick them up and take them home. She could imagine the dessert he was served during the return trip. She shook her head.

"In the bathroom." She bent over to examine the cut, which was still oozing blood onto the blue rug at her feet.

"Oh my God, Shelly! What happened?" He stood in the doorway, legs spread to avoid stepping in blood, horror twisting the usually handsome face. As the initial shock passed, he moved to kneel at her feet. "Let me see that.

He grabbed her foot and twisted it to get a better look.

"Ouch! Don't rip it off, Todd. I need it."

"I'm sorry," he said, giving her an apologetic smile before bending back over the cut. He took a cotton pad and patted it. "Shelly, I think it needs stitches."

"No."

"But it’s deep." He frowned. "Oh, and I think there is something shiny in it."

She studied the dark head bent over her foot. How had he turned into such a nice guy with those parents? "Mmm, yeah, red bauble."

"What?"

The confusion on his face made her smile. The pain lessened. "Red ornament. From the stair rail. It ... I broke it and stepped on it."

Lowering her foot, he sat back on his heels and looked up at her. "I saw... why are you ripping down the decorations? It’s Christmas Day, for gosh sakes."

Shelly glared at him with red, tear-washed eyes. "Because they just suck the joy right out of any situation. Every holiday, it doesn't matter if we're there or here, they ... no, she just takes any pleasure out of everything."

Todd sighed and stared at her. His shoulders slumped and his eyes grew sad. "I know. I'm sorry."

The thought that Todd might blame himself never entered her head, and it upset her now. "Oh! Oh, no, Todd. It isn't your fault." She clutched his shoulder. "You -"

She couldn't go on. Her voice broke, and she buried her face against his shoulder. He wrapped his arms around her and held her.

When the sobs abated, he gently put her away from him. "Shelly, you can't let her do that to you. It isn't worth it. And it won't change anything."

"I can't understand how your father deals with it." She paused and then added, "Or how you do. Neither of you ever say a word. You just let her go on and on."

"Dad stopped years ago. I stopped when I left home. I never went back to live there." He stared at the wall opposite, frowning slightly. "It was like being released from prison. I couldn't remember living where you weren't criticized for everything you did."

"You mean she's always been like this?"

He nodded. "I don't remember when I was very small. I think, yes. My realization of it started when I was about 8 or 9." He stopped and his brows drew down as he tried to remember. "I … it was a Saturday and Dad and I were cleaning out the garage. I dropped a pot, a terracotta flower pot. You'd have thought it was a Fabergé egg. She made me feel about three inches tall. Dad tried to stem the tide, but … well, you've seen her in action. Butter wouldn't melt in her mouth, but she can flay you alive with that tongue."

She rubbed his back. "Oh, Todd, how awful."

"You know, I learned to deal with it. I think. But my dad, he had it far worse than I did. Everything in her life that was wrong was his fault. Me, I could stay out of her way. Dad had nowhere to go."

"Why does he stay?"

Todd looked at her and smiled a sad, lopsided smile. "The same reason all men stay when it is bad. He really loves her."

It wasn't what she expected. How could anyone love a woman like that? She shook her head. "What happened to her, Todd? Surely she wasn't like this at some point."

For several minutes, Todd sat and stared at his feet. He looked up and said, "I don't know. I can't remember a lot of my childhood before that day." He laughed. "Don't know why. Must have been pretty uneventful."

Or pretty traumatic. She didn't want to suggest it. Everyone remembered things from their childhood. She could remember falling downstairs when she was four and eating ice cream on a hot summer day with her parents in the park when she was five.

With the hem of her shirt, Shelly wiped her face and sat up straight. "I'm OK. I just needed to vent. I'm sorry you had to see it."

He gave her another hug. "Not a problem. That's why I have these broad shoulders and," he reached behind him and pulled a box of tissues around. "I always travel with these."

They both laughed and got up.

"There's a great movie on tonight. Wanna watch with me?"

"I need to clean up my mess."

Todd caught her arm. "Nah, it won't go anywhere. Tomorrow is plenty of time. Besides, I kind of like the look. Makes it look like we had a big bash that got out of hand." He led her downstairs.

She stared at him. No complaint. No criticism. No reprimand. His mother would have eaten her up, spit her out, and turned on Todd for allowing it. How did he manage to survive it unscathed? As quickly as she thought it, a second thought occurred to her. Maybe he didn't survive it. Maybe he resurrected from it. He became someone totally different. She should probably thank his mother.

The thought boggled Shelly's mind. Still, it was probably true. She'd created this wonderfully kind man who was sensitive to all her hurts and never made her feel stupid or inept.

She smiled as she curled up on the sofa next to him.

"What?" He was looking at her, smiling and suspicious.

"Nothing."

He looked skeptical and wary, but turned his attention to the television remote.

Tomorrow, bright and early, she would get up and call her. She'd tell her how thrilled she was that they came. She'd tell her how much she appreciated how she'd raised her son. And when she asked her why … she'd tell her because if she had not done it, he might have become just like her.

Shelly laughed and kissed Todd on the cheek.

The Castilian Character

Fatalism, heroic ideals, indifference and contempt for others' thoughts and ideas, and religious devotion to the point of fanaticism would be the simplest way to define the Castilian character.  However, character does not form in and of itself but is a result of the combination of one's environment and the events that occur in one's life.  The Castilian character formed in just this way.

The Iberian Peninsula is an area surrounded by water and mountains, effectively isolating the people from the ideas and customs of the rest of the world.  Inland, the varied topography served to isolate the Iberians from each other as well, creating localism but making it difficult to unite groups in a common cause.

The land itself, most of which is poor soil, with few ports, and a harsh climate made wanderers of the people.  Whether searching for fresh pasture land or the hope of a better life in a far-away land, these people developed a character which is self-sufficient, hardy, determined, and adventurous.  All of these characteristics would contribute to create the conquistadors and set them on the journey to the New World.

As an American it is hard to visualize over 2000 years of rule by at least seven conquering hordes; for the Iberian Peninsula, it was a way of life.  Perhaps as hundreds of years would go by the Iberians began to relax and feel this time would be the last.  It wasn't.  An endless supply of conquerors seemed to stream across the borders of the Peninsula for centuries.  Phoenicians, Greeks, Carthiginians, Romans, Vandals, Visigoths, and Moslems came; each leaving their mark on the land and its people.    

The Romans, with their focus on cities and law, effected a great change on the people.  They brought the Christian religion and with it rigid orthodoxy and religious zeal.  The Roman changed even the language of the Iberian Peninsula;  Spanish is a corruption of Latin.  In order to break the ties of people to places, the Romans would move them from one place to another.  Thus, the country was unified by law, language, and forced colonization.  These concepts would show up centuries later in the Spanish conquest and colonization of New Spain and would gradually forge a new country.

With the Moslems came new habits and customs, such as the siesta.  Schools, the arts, and classical learning were introduced.  The use of marble, tiles, bright colors and designs in architecture changed the face of the country when introduced in conjunction with mosques, palaces, and fountains. It would take centuries but this architecture was transplanted to the new world with only slight and gradual modification.

All people grow tired of being conquered and the Spanish were no different but to have a re-conquest there must be an army.  It is possible the poor could envision a better life under the rule of their own people; however, the motives of the nobility, Church, and King to regain their wealth must always lie under the surface.  The discovery of what was thought to be the body of St. James gave the Christian remnants the motivation they needed.  God was with them and with the battle cry of Santiago, the re-conquest began in earnest.  With each successive victory their numbers would grow until the Moslem invaders were pushed back across the sea.

The Church was a unifying factor in the re-conquest but the iron hand of Castile and Aragon in the latter part added nationalism to religious zeal.  The Inquisition served to mop up any remaining dissenters.   Centuries of Moslem rule was over.  The Jews with their religion and wealth were gone.  Spain had purged its nation and church and set herself on a course for economic ruin.  

After 500 years of war with the Moslems, there is certainly good reason for the Spaniard to have acquired a religious devotion and a love for military lifestyle.  His belief in his own courage, strength, and virility was reinforced.  No longer would he allow other nations to make the rules for him.  Never would he grub in the dirt or barter in the market place.  As a soldier, for God and King, he would live and die as he chose, conquering the heretic.

Soldiers, government officials, merchants, clerics and settlers sailed to New Spain.  They set out to christianize the pagan peoples they met there, as well as take their land.  To the Indian the armored conquistador must have appeared as a god who was half man, half beast.  He saw a god with light skin, a body which reflected the sun, and an ability to run like the wind.  These gods carried rods which thundered, smoked, and killed.  By various methods the Indian would learn that these weren't gods but mortals. It would be too late. The Indians' own fatalism would do them in; their myths foretold destruction and it came.

As for the Spanish view of the Indian, it varied from person to person and time to time.  Columbus thought they were gentle people who would be eager to be Christianized and serve the monarchy.  They eventually were all these things, but the Spanish reputation was acquired in getting them to that point.      The island Indians were considered little more than animals.  While Indians on the mainland were slightly more civilized, the demand for a labor force ensured that the colonist would remain blind to the humanity of the Indians.  Only with the arrival of clerics concerned with the plight of these people did they acknowledge the fact that these were human beings, deserving humane treatment.  Even with this knowledge the Indian was most often mistreated.

The discovery of the New World brought new vistas to Spaniards.  Novels which told of knights, maidens, exotic lands, strange people, and hidden wealth were popular and enticed the adventurous conquistadors to explore and conquer.  They were after all valiant men; they had vanquished their enemies. Whatever fate awaited them in this new land was unimportant compared to the possible wealth and glory.  Some came to seek gold, some glory.  They all came to conquer and claim the land for their own, no matter what the risk.  It could be said they were being true to their Roman heritage.  The motto for the conquistadors could have been written by Caesar: I came, I saw, I conquered.  They did. 
  

Sources

Davies, Nigel  The Ancient Kingdoms of Mexico.  Penguin Books:  London, England:  1983, 247-253.

Fagg, John.  Latin American History.  The Macmillian Company:  London:  1969,
    35-210.

Gibson, Charles.  Spain in America.  Harper Torch Books:  New York:  1967, 1-159.

Haring, C.H.  The Spanish Empire in America.  Oxford University Press:  New York: 1947, 3-41.

Herring, Hubert.  A History of Latin America: From the Beginning to the Present.  Knoph:  New York:  1968, 64-203.