Saving the World by Julia Álvarez Page A

girth to go accompanied, “you are looking quite handsome. That necklace suits you!”
    My hand flew to my throat. I had forgotten to remove my beads! Myface was burning again, as I fell in behind her, thinking how easily we can change our lives if we desire to do so above all other things.
    W ITH DOÑA Teresa’S BLESSING, I began to select the twenty-two boys who would take part in the expedition.
    Each one had to be checked thoroughly to be sure that he had never been exposed to the smallpox. Suddenly, relations began stepping forward, fathers and mothers and brothers who had never existed before, wet nurses who had given the breast to this or that infant boy, all of whom had heard that the chosen boys would become the king’s special charges and so had come to claim their rightful compensation for letting His Majesty have
their
boys.
    Once I had chosen the carriers, I began assembling what they would need from the list Don Francisco provided for me. Each boy was to have six shirts, a hat, three linen trousers and jackets, one woolen trouser and jacket; three kerchiefs for the neck, three for the nose; three pairs of shoes; one comb. So much to be bought, sewn, attended to!
    The hours sped by; the days were over too quickly; September turned into October in a heartbeat; and then it was November, and we were still getting ready. A ship could not be found. Some of the instruments Don Francisco had ordered had not arrived. France and England were at war, and safe conduct for our expedition had to be sought from both countries; proof had to be presented that we were carrying boys, not munitions.
    I was glad for these delays, for I had twenty-two wardrobes to assemble, not counting my own “trousseau,” as Nati had begun referring to it. “For you are bound to get married over in New Spain.” She was sure of it. I waved her off, though I admit, it pleased me to think that perhaps in America among so many survivors of the smallpox, my scarred face might blend in. A new Isabel would emerge in that new world!
    â€œWhat man will take me with twenty-two boys in tow?” I challenged. Out of habit, I could not let myself hope.
    Nati crossed her arms and regarded me. “You don’t know the first thing about men, do you?”
    â€œI have been raising them for a dozen years,” I reminded her.
    T ODAY, FINALLY, THE HOUR of our departure had come. We assembled in the front parlor, each boy attired like a little prince. We were to parade down the crowded streets toward the docks, Don Francisco’s idea. Our departure should be accompanied by fanfare. Ours was a noble venture, which all of La Coruña should know about. And it would hearten the members of the expedition to hear the cheers and see the waving crowds.
    This was probably true for his assistants and nurses, who marched ahead, accompanied by our bishop and officials from the city council. But the children were too frightened to enjoy the added commotion, even the older ones who pretended confidence, and yes,
even
my thorn, Francisco, who had managed to talk his namesake into allowing him to come, swearing upon several holy objects that he had “never been near no pox.” All the good-byes at the orphanage, the kisses and embraces lavished upon them, admonitions to be brave, not to fear the ocean with its great Leviathan or the savages who ate their own kind—my poor boys were beside themselves with terror. They clung to Nati and Doña Teresa, to bedposts and wall posts, to the boys who were staying. Only Benito seemed strangely calm, but, of course, he was clinging to me.
    For the last few weeks on pleasant days, I had been bringing the selected group down to the dockyards to accustom them to the idea of going on a ship, crossing the ocean they knew only as a span of blue globe they could cover with their hands. A quiet stroll down to the docks and a climb aboard the ship with no ceremony would have been far