She smiled, “Are you two lovebirds coming?”
From beyond the trees emerged Trueno and Relámpago, the originals, and Fulgencio and Carolina mounted them, following Paloma Angélica back out toward the cheering crowd.
“¡Beso! ¡Beso!” The crowd chanted. And the two kissed fervently, the flanks of their horses pressed against each other.
“Do the honors, Dad,” Paloma Angélica gestured north toward the distant river, over the vast lands she had now inherited.
“Let’s ride!” Fulgencio shouted, pulling his Stetson from thin air and waving it high toward the sky as he led the small army north toward the banks of the river.
Riding next to her mother and father, Paloma Angélica knew she possessed the resources to build and maintain her visionary city. Now as the banks appeared on the horizon, she was not alone in envisioning the city itself, shimmering like a dream, its spires reaching toward the heavens.
The salty gulf breeze ripped through Fulgencio’s black mane. Carolina’s joyful laughter filled the air. Brother William shouted in exaltation. And the Virgencita de Guadalupe hung on to Fernando Cisneros’s waist as they galloped on the same horse. Shots rang in the air as El Chino Alasan fired his revolvers in celebration toward the sky. And their followers all yelped and pumped their fists in the air.
“¡Viva Fulgencio Ramirez!” they chanted.
He smiled, glancing first to his wife and then to his daughter.
The ground rushed beneath them, hooves thundering as they sped toward the approaching banks, the wind in their faces.
“¡Viva Fulgencio Ramirez!”
Fulgencio shook his head in wonderment as he looked at Carolina, her body hunched over Trueno’s neck, racing beside him.
“We’re almost there,” Paloma Angélica shouted as they neared the river. “This is the spot!”
The horses whinnied and snorted as the group reined them to a stop and dismounted. Brother William jumped into the waters, laughing madly as he had the day he died. The crowd gathered around Fulgencio, Carolina, and Paloma Angélica. Spellbound, their eyes all settled on an apparition on the northern banks of the river. There, a familiar couple stepped to the shore, their toes nearly touching the water. Mauro Fernando and Soledad Cisneros held hands, smiled faintly, and waved back.
“This is the spot!” Paloma Angélica proclaimed, her eyes twinkling with glee.
Fulgencio marveled, “Someone drew a line in the sand, and we crossed back and forth until it disappeared.”
“¡Viva Fulgencio Ramirez!” the crowd chanted again.
Carolina gazed lovingly at Fulgencio as they nestled their daughter between them. Paloma Angélica understood that getting here had taken them a long time, not just her parents, but all of those who joined them at the river’s edge, the campesinos and the drifters, the mexicanos and the gringos, the disinherited and the poor, the misfits and the miscreants, the Papabote LaMarques and Primo Loco Gustavos she glimpsed within the crowd, the Little Davids and the Bobby Balmoris that were bringing up the rear. It had been a long journey for all of them, but they had made it. Fulgencio and Carolina had helped them find their way. And now, she would lead them in building a bridge to the future, anchored deeply on the banks of their past.
“¡Viva Fulgencio Ramirez!”
Fulgencio smiled, gazing upon all of the familiar faces that surrounded him and remembering those that weren’t there to share the day: his parents, El Chotay, the Mendelssohns, Buzzy, La Señora Villarreal, and even his mysterious and misunderstood ancestor Minerva, the grieving mother who had cast a terrible spell in her desperate search for justice. At that moment he realized her incantations had proven to be much more than a curse, but rather a blueprint for their communal redemption. He resolved that once the city was built, he would release a flight of doves to seek them all out upon the heavens and call them to this special place they were destined to share.
“¡Viva Fulgencio Ramirez!” the crowd cheered yet again.
He wrapped his arms around the women of his life. He turned his eyes up to the cerulean sky, clearing his throat. The two women smiled knowingly, their hearts overflowing with anticipation. Fulgencio was about to sing in celebration. For at long last, they had all found their way home. And as his voice took flight, they joined the crowd one final time, squeezing the powerful man between their arms as they shouted jubilantly:
“¡Viva Fulgencio Ramirez!”
“Long live Fulgencio Ramirez!”