voice sounded hoarse from laughing.
     Don Genaro said that he  was about to find my car, that the feeling was
getting hotter and hotter. Don Juan said we were in  a rugged area  and that
to find the car there was not a desirable thing. Don Genaro took off his hat
and rearranged the  strap  with  a piece  of  string from his pouch, then he
attached his woolen belt to a yellow tassel affixed to the brim of the hat.
     "I'm making a kite out of my hat, " he said to me.
     I  watched him and  I  knew that he was joking. I had always considered
myself to be an expert on kites. When I was a child I used to  make the most
complex kites and I knew that the brim of the straw hat  was  too brittle to
resist the  wind. The hat's crown, on  the  other hand, was too deep and the
wind would circulate inside it, making it impossible to lift the hat off the
ground.
     "You don't think it'll fly, do you?" don Juan asked me.
     "I know it won't, " I said.
     Don Genaro was unconcerned and finished attaching a long string  to his
kite-hat. It was a windy day and  don Genaro ran  downhill as don  Juan held
his hat, then don Genaro pulled the string and the damn thing actually flew.
     "Look,  look at  the kite!"  don  Genaro yelled.  It bobbed a couple of
times but it remained in the air.
     "Don't take  your eyes  off of the kite, " don Juan said firmly. For  a
moment  I felt dizzy. Looking at the kite, I had had a complete recollection
of another time; it was  as if I  were flying  a kite myself,  as I used to,
when it was windy in the hills of my home town.
     For a brief moment the recollection engulfed me and I lost my awareness
of the passage of time.
     I heard don Genaro  yelling something and I saw the hat bobbing  up and
down  and then  falling  to the ground, where my  car was. It all took place
with such speed that I did not have a clear picture of what  had happened. I
became dizzy and absent-minded. My mind held on to a very confusing image. I
either saw  don Genaro's  hat turning  into my car, or I saw the hat falling
over on top of the car. I  wanted to believe the latter, that don Genaro had
used his hat to point at my car. Not that it  really mattered, one thing was
as awesome  as the other, but just the same my mind hooked on that arbitrary
detail in order  to keep my original  mental balance. "Don't  fight it,  " I
heard don Juan saying. I felt that something inside me was about to surface.
Thoughts and images  came in  uncontrollable  waves as  if  I  were  falling
asleep. I stared at the car dumbfounded. It was sitting on a rocky flat area
about a  hundred feet away. It actually looked as if someone had just placed
it there. I ran towards it and began to examine it.
     "Goddammit!"  don  Juan exclaimed.  "Don't stare  at the car. Stop  the
world!"
     Then as in a dream I heard him yelling, "Genaro's hat! Genaro's hat!"
     I looked at them. They were  staring  at  me directly. Their  eyes were
piercing. I felt a  pain in my stomach. I had an  instantaneous headache and
got  ill. Don Juan  and don  Genaro looked at me curiously. I sat by the car
for a while  and then, quite  automatically, I unlocked the door and let don
Genaro get  in the back seat. Don  Juan followed him and sat next  to him. I
thought that was strange because he usually sat in the  front seat.  I drove
my car  to  don Juan's house  in a sort of haze. I was not myself at all. My
stomach  was  very  upset,  and  the feeling of  nausea  demolished  all  my
sobriety. I drove mechanically.
     I heard don Juan and don Genaro in the back seat laughing and  giggling
like children. I  heard don Juan asking me, "Are we getting closer?" It  was
at that  point that I took deliberate notice of the  road. We were  actually
very close to  his house.  "We're  about  to get  there, " I muttered.  They
howled  with laughter. They clapped their hands  and slapped  their  thighs.
When we  arrived at the house  I  automatically jumped  out  of  the car and
opened the door for them.  Don Genaro stepped out first and congratulated me
for what he  said was the nicest and smoothest ride he had ever taken in his
life. Don Juan said the same. I did not pay much attention to them. I locked
my car  and barely made  it  to the house.  I heard don Juan  and don Genaro
roaring with laughter before I fell asleep. The next day as soon  as  I woke
up I began asking don Juan questions. He was cutting firewood in the back of
his  house, but  don Genaro  was nowhere  in sight.  He said  that there was
nothing to talk about. I pointed out that I had succeeded in remaining aloof
and had observed  don Genaro's "swimming  on  the  floor" without wanting or
demanding any  explanation whatsoever, but my restraint had not helped me to
understand what was taking place. Then, after  the disappearance of the car,
I became automatically locked in seeking a logical explanation, but that did
not  help  me  either.  I  told  don  Juan  that  my insistence  on  finding
explanations  was  not something that I had arbitrarily devised myself, just
to  be  difficult, but  was  something  so deeply ingrained  in me  that  it
overruled every other consideration. "It's like a disease, " I said.
     "There  are  no  diseases, "  don Juan replied calmly.  "There is  only
indulging.  And  you  indulge  yourself  in trying  to  explain  everything.
Explanations are no longer necessary in your case."
     I  insisted that I  could  function only  under conditions of order and
understanding. I reminded him that I had drastically changed my  personality
during  the time  of our association,  and that the condition that had  made
that change possible was that I had been capable of explaining to myself the
reasons for that change.
     Don Juan laughed softly. He did not speak for a long time.
     "You are very clever, " he finally said. "You go back to where you have
always been. This time you are finished though. You have no place to go back
to. I will not explain anything to you  any more. Whatever Genaro did to you
yesterday he did it to your body, so let your body decide what's what."
     Don Juan's  tone was  friendly but unusually detached and that  made me
feel  an  overwhelming loneliness. I expressed my  feelings  of  sadness. He
smiled.  His fingers gently clasped the top of my hand.  "We both are beings
who are going to die, " he said softly. "There is  no  more time for what we
used to do. Now you must employ all the not-doing I have taught you and stop
the world."
     He clasped my hand  again. His touch was firm and friendly; it was like
a reassurance  that  he was concerned  and had affection for me, and  at the
same time it gave me the impression  of  an unwavering  purpose. "This is my
gesture  for you,  " he said, holding the  grip  he had on  my  hand for  an
instant.  "Now you must  go by  yourself into those  friendly mountains." He
pointed  with  his  chin  to  the distant  range  of  mountains towards  the
southeast. He said  that I had to remain there until my body told me to quit
and then return to his house. He let me know that he did not  want me to say
anything or to wait any  longer by shoving me gently  in the direction of my
car. "What am I supposed to do there?" I asked. He did not answer but looked
at me, shaking his head.
     "No more of that, " he finally said. Then he pointed his finger to  the
southeast.
     "Go there,  " he said cuttingly. I drove south and then east, following
the roads I had  always taken when  driving with  don  Juan. I parked my car
around the place  where the  dirt road ended and then I  hiked on a familiar
trail until  I reached a high  plateau. I had no  idea  what to do there.  I
began to meander, looking for a resting place. Suddenly I  became aware of a
small area to my left. It  seemed that the chemical  composition of the soil
was  different on  that spot,  yet when I  focused my eyes on  it there  was
nothing visible that would  account  for the  difference. I stood a few feet
away and tried  to "feel" as don Juan had always recommended I  should do. I
stayed  motionless  for perhaps an hour.  My thoughts  began to  diminish by
degrees until I  was no longer  talking to myself. I then had a sensation of
annoyance.  The  feeling seemed to  be confined to  my  stomach and was more
acute  when I faced the  spot in question. I  was  repulsed  by  it and felt
compelled to move away from it.  I began scanning the area with crossed eyes
and after a short walk I came upon a large flat rock. I stopped in front  of
it. There was  nothing in particular about the rock that attracted me. I did
not detect  any  specific color or any shine on it,  and yet I  liked it. My
body felt good.  I experienced a sensation of physical  comfort and sat down
for a while.
     I meandered in the high  plateau and the surrounding  mountains all day
without knowing what to do or what  to expect. I came back  to the flat rock
at dusk. I knew that if I  spent  the night there I would be safe. The  next
day  I ventured farther  east into  the high mountains. By late afternoon  I
came to another even higher plateau.
     I thought I had been there before. I looked around to orient myself but
I  could  not  recognize any  of  the  surrounding  peaks.  After  carefully
selecting a suitable place I sat down to rest at the edge of a  barren rocky
area.  I  felt very warm and peaceful  there.  I tried to pour out some food
from my gourd, but it was empty. I drank some water. It was  warm and stale.
I thought that I had nothing else to do  but to  return to don  Juan's house
and began to wonder whether or not I should start on my way back right away.
I  lay down on my  stomach  and rested my head on my  arm. I felt uneasy and
changed positions various times until I found myself facing the west.
     The sun  was  already low. My  eyes  were  tired. I  looked down at the
ground and caught sight of a large black beetle. It came out  from  behind a
small rock, pushing a ball of dung twice its size. I followed its  movements
for a long  time. The insect seemed unconcerned with my presence and kept on
pushing  its  load over rocks,  roots, depressions, and protuberances on the
ground.  For all I knew, the  beetle was not aware  that  I  was  there. The
thought occurred to me that I could not possibly be sure that the insect was
not  aware of me;  that thought  triggered a  series of rational evaluations
about the nature  of the insect's world as opposed to mine. The beetle and I
were  in the same world and obviously the world was not the same for both of
us. I  became immersed in watching it and marveled at the gigantic  strength
it needed to carry its load over rocks and down crevices.
     I observed  the insect  for a long  time and then I became aware of the
silence around me. Only the  wind hissed between the branches and  leaves of
the chaparral. I looked up, turned  to  my  left in  a quick and involuntary
fashion, and caught a glimpse of a faint shadow or a flicker on a rock a few
feet away. At first I paid  no attention to it but then I realized that that
flicker had been to my left. I turned again suddenly and was able to clearly
perceive a shadow on  the rock. I had  the  weird sensation that  the shadow
instantly  slid down  to the ground and  the soil  absorbed it  as a blotter
dries an ink blotch.  A chill  ran down my back. The thought crossed my mind
that death was watching me and the beetle. I looked for the insect again but
I could  not find it. I thought that it must have arrived at its destination
and  then  had dropped its load into a hole  in the  ground.  I put my  face
against a smooth rock.
     The beetle emerged from a deep hole and  stopped a few inches away from
my face.  It  seemed  to look at  me and for a  moment I felt that it became
aware  of my presence, perhaps as I was aware of the presence of my death. I
experienced a shiver. The beetle and I were not that different after all.
     Death, like a shadow, was stalking  both of us from behind the boulder.
I had an  extraordinary moment  of elation. The beetle and I were on a  par.
Neither of us was better than the other.
     Our death made us equal. My elation and joy were so overwhelming that I
began to weep. Don Juan was right. He had always been right. I was living in
a most  mysterious world and, like  everyone  else, I was a most  mysterious
being, and yet I was no more important than a beetle. I wiped my eyes and as
I  rubbed them with the back  of my hand I saw a man, or something which had
the shape  of a man.  It was to my right about fifty  yards  away. I  sat up
straight  and  strained to see.  The  sun was almost on the horizon  and its
yellowish glow  prevented me  from getting a clear view. I heard  a peculiar
roar at  that moment. It was  like the  sound  of a  distant jet plane. As I
focused my attention on it, the roar increased to a prolonged sharp metallic
whizzing  and then it softened  until it was a mesmerizing, melodious sound.
The melody  was like  the vibration of an electrical current. The image that
came  to my mind was that  two electrified  spheres were coming together, or
two square blocks of  electrified metal were rubbing  against each other and
then coming to rest with a thump when  they were perfectly leveled with each
other. I again strained to see if I could distinguish the person that seemed
to be hiding from me,  but I  could  only detect  a dark  shape  against the
bushes. I shielded my eyes by placing my hands above them. The brilliancy of
the sunlight changed  at that moment and  then  I  realized that what  I was
seeing was only an optical illusion, a play of shadows and foliage.
     I  moved my eyes  away and  I  saw a coyote calmly trotting across  the
field. The coyote was around the spot where I thought I had seen the man. It
moved about fifty yards  in  a  southerly  direction  and  then it  stopped,
turned, and began walking towards me. I yelled a couple of times to scare it
away, but it  kept on coming. I had a moment of apprehension. I thought that
it might be  rabid  and  I even  considered gathering some  rocks  to defend
myself in  case of an attack. When the animal was ten to fifteen feet away I
noticed that  it  was,  not agitated in  any way; on the contrary, it seemed
calm and unafraid. It slowed down its  gait, coming to a halt barely four or
five feet from me. We looked at each other,  and then the coyote  came  even
closer. Its brown  eyes were friendly and clear. I sat down on the rocks and
the coyote stood almost touching me. I was  dumbfounded. I had  never seen a
wild  coyote that  close, and  the only thing that occurred  to  me at  that
moment  was to talk to it. I began  as one would talk to a friendly dog. And
then  I thought  that the  coyote "talked"  back to me. I had  the  absolute
certainty that  it had said something.  I felt confused  but  I did not have
time to ponder upon my  feelings, because the  coyote "talked" again. It was
not that the animal was voicing words the  way  I am accustomed  to  hearing
words being voiced by human beings, it was  rather  a  "feeling" that it was
talking. But it  was not  like a feeling that one has  when a  pet  seems to
communicate  with its master either. The coyote  actually said something; it
relayed a thought and that communication came out in something quite similar
to a sentence. I had said, "How are you, little coyote?" and I thought I had
heard the animal respond, "I'm all right, and you?" Then the coyote repeated
the sentence and  I  jumped  to my feet.  The animal did not make  a  single
movement.  It was not even startled by my sudden  jump. Its eyes were  still
friendly  and clear.  It lay down  on  its stomach  and  tilted its head and
asked,  "Why are you  afraid?" I  sat down facing  it and  I  carried on the
weirdest  conversation I had ever  had. Finally it asked me what I was doing
there and I said I had come there to "stop the world." The coyote said, "Que
bueno!" and then I  realized  that it was a bilingual  coyote. The nouns and
verbs  of   its  sentences  were   in  English,  but  the  conjunctions  and
exclamations were in Spanish. The thought crossed my mind that  I was in the
presence of  a Chicano coyote.  I began to laugh at the  absurdity of it all
and I laughed so hard that I became almost hysterical. Then  the full weight
of  the  impossibility of what was happening struck  me and my mind wobbled.
The  coyote stood  up and  our eyes met. I stared fixedly into them.  I felt
they were pulling me and  suddenly the animal became iridescent; it began to
glow. It was as if  my mind were replaying the memory of another event  that
had taken  place  ten years  before,  when under the influence of  peyote  I
witnessed the  metamorphosis  of  an  ordinary  dog  into  an  unforgettable
iridescent   being.  It  was  as  though   the  coyote   had  triggered  the
recollection, and the memory of that  previous event was summoned and became
superimposed on the coyote's shape; the coyote was a fluid, liquid, luminous
being. Its luminosity was dazzling.  I wanted to cover my eyes with my hands
to protect them, but I could not move. The luminous being touched me in some
undefined  part  of  myself  and  my  body  experienced  such  an  exquisite
indescribable  warmth and well-being that it was as if the touch had made me
explode. I became transfixed.  I could not feel my feet, or  my legs, or any
part of my body, yet something was sustaining me erect.
     I have no idea how long I stayed in that position. In the meantime, the
luminous coyote and the hilltop where I stood melted away. I had no thoughts
or  feelings. Everything  had  been turned  off  and I was floating  freely.
Suddenly I felt that my body had been struck and then it became enveloped by
something that kindled me. I became aware then that the sun  was shining  on
me.  I  could vaguely distinguish a  distant range of  mountains towards the
west. The sun was almost over the horizon. I was  looking directly  into  it
and  then I saw  the "lines  of  the world."  I  actually perceived the most
extraordinary  profusion  of  fluorescent  white  lines  which  crisscrossed
everything around me. For a moment I thought that I was perhaps experiencing
sunlight as it was  being refracted by my  eyelashes. I blinked  and  looked
again. The  lines were  constant  and  were superimposed on  or  were coming
through everything  in  the  surroundings. I turned around and  examined  an
extraordinarily  new  world. The  lines  were  visible and  steady even if I
looked away from the sun.
     I stayed on the hilltop in  a state of ecstasy for what appeared  to be
an  endless  time, yet the whole event may have lasted  only a  few minutes,
perhaps only as long as the sun shone  before it reached the horizon, but to
me it seemed an endless time. I felt something warm and soothing oozing  out
of the world and out of my own body. I  knew I had  discovered a  secret. It
was so simple. I experienced an unknown flood of feelings. Never  in my life
had I had such a divine euphoria, such  peace, such  an encompassing  grasp,
and  yet I could  not  put  the  discovered secret into words,  or even into
thoughts, but my body knew it. Then I either fell asleep  or I fainted. When
I again  became  aware of myself  I was lying on the rocks. I stood up.  The
world was  as I had always seen it. It was getting dark and I  automatically
started  on  my  way back to my car. Don Juan was alone in the house  when I
arrived the next morning. I asked him about don Genaro and  he  said that he
was somewhere in  the  vicinity,  running an errand. I  immediately began to
narrate to  him the  extraordinary experiences  I had had. He  listened with
obvious interest. "You have simply stopped the world, " he commented after I
had finished my account. We remained  silent for a  moment and then don Juan
said that  I  had  to  thank don  Genaro  for helping  me.  He  seemed to be
unusually pleased with me. He patted my back repeatedly and chuckled.
     "But it is inconceivable that a coyote could talk, " I said.
     "It wasn't talk, " don Juan replied.
     "What was it then?"
     "Your body understood  for the first  time. But you failed to recognize
that it was not a coyote to begin with and that it certainly was not talking
the way you and I talk."
     "But the coyote really talked, don Juan!"
     "Now look who is  talking like  an  idiot.  After all  these  years  of
learning  you  should know  better. Yesterday  you stopped the world and you
might have even seen.  A magical being told you something and your  body was
capable of understanding it because the world had collapsed."
     "The world was like it is today, don Juan."
     "No, it  wasn't. Today the coyotes  do  not tell you anything,  and you
cannot see the lines of the world. Yesterday you did all that simply because
something had stopped in you."
     "What was the thing that stopped in me?"
     "What stopped inside you  yesterday was what people  have  been telling
you the world is like.  You see, people tell  us from  the time we are  born
that the world is  such and  such  and  so and so, and naturally we  have no
choice but to see the world the way people have been telling us it is."
     We looked at each other.
     "Yesterday the world became as sorcerers tell  you it is, " he went on.
"In  that world coyotes talk and  so do deer, as I once told you, and  so do
rattlesnakes and trees  and all other living  beings. But what I want you to
learn  is seeing.  Perhaps you  know now that seeing  happens only  when one
sneaks between the  worlds, the  world of ordinary  people and the  world of
sorcerers. You are now smack in the  middle point between the two. Yesterday
you believed the coyote talked to you.
     Any sorcerer who  doesn't see would believe the same,  but one who sees
knows that to  believe that is to be pinned down in the  realm of sorcerers.
By the same token, not to believe  that coyotes talk is to be pinned down in
the realm of ordinary men."
     "Do you mean, don Juan, that neither the world of  ordinary men nor the
world of sorcerers is real?"
     "They are real worlds. They  could act upon you. For example, you could
have asked that coyote  about anything  you wanted to know and it would have
been compelled  to give you an answer. The only sad part is that coyotes are
not reliable. They are tricksters. It is your fate not to have  a dependable
animal companion."
     Don Juan  explained that the coyote  was  going  to be my companion for
life and that in the world of sorcerers  to  have a coyote friend was  not a
desirable state of affairs. He said that it would have been ideal for  me to
have talked to a rattlesnake, since they were stupendous companions.
     "If I were you, " he added, "I would never trust a coyote.  But you are
different and you may even become a coyote sorcerer."
     "What is a coyote sorcerer?"
     "One who  draws a lot of things  from his coyote brothers." I wanted to
keep on asking questions but he made a gesture to stop me.
     "You  have  seen the  lines  of the world,  " he said. "You have seen a
luminous  being. You are now almost ready  to meet the  ally. Of course  you
know  that the man  you saw  in the bushes was  the ally. You heard its roar
like the sound  of a jet plane.  He'll  be waiting for you at the edge  of a
plain, a plain I will take you to myself."
     We were quiet for a long time. Don Juan had his hands  clasped over his
stomach. His thumbs moved almost imperceptibly. "Genaro will also have to go
with us  to that valley,  " he said all of a sudden.  "He is the one who has
helped you to stop the world."
     Don Juan looked  at me  with  piercing eyes. "I will tell you  one more
thing, " he said and laughed. "It really does matter now. Genaro never moved
your car from the world of ordinary  men the other day. He simply forced you
to look at the world like sorcerers do, and  your car was not in that world.
Genaro wanted to soften  your certainty. His clowning told your  body  about
the absurdity of trying to understand everything. And when he  flew his kite
you almost  saw. You found your  car and you were in both worlds. The reason
we  nearly split our  guts laughing was because you really  thought you were
driving us back from where you thought you had found your car."
     "But how did he force me to see the world as sorcerers do?"
     "I was with him. We both know that world. Once one knows that world all
one needs to bring it  about is  to use that extra ring of power I have told
you sorcerers have. Genaro can do that as easily as snapping his fingers. He
kept  you busy  turning  over rocks  in order to distract your thoughts  and
allow your body to see."
     I told him  that the  events  of  the  last three days  had  done  some
irreparable damage to my idea of the world. I said that during the ten years
I had been associated  with him I had never been so moved,  not  even during
the times I had ingested psychotropic plants. "Power plants are only an aid,
" don Juan said. "The real thing is when the body  realizes that it can see.
Only then is one capable  of knowing that  the world we look at every day is
only a description. My intent has been to show you that.
     Unfortunately  you have very little  time left before the ally  tackles
you."
     "Does the ally have to tackle me?"
     "There is no way to avoid it. In order  to see one must  learn  the way
sorcerers  look at the world and thus the ally has to be summoned,  and once
that is done it comes."
     "Couldn't you have taught me to see without summoning the ally?"
     "No. In order to see one must learn to look at the world in  some other
fashion, and the only other fashion I know is the way of a sorcerer."
     Don Genaro returned around noon  and at don Juan's suggestion the three
of us drove  down to the range of mountains where I had been the day before.
We hiked on  the same trail I had taken  but instead of stopping in the high
plateau, as I had done, we kept on climbing until we reached the top  of the
lower range of mountains, then we began to descend into a flat valley.
     We stopped to rest on top of a high hill. Don Genaro picked the spot. I
automatically sat  down, as I have  always done in their  company, with  don
Juan  to my right and don Genaro  to my left, making a triangle. The  desert
chaparral had acquired  an exquisite  moist sheen. It was brilliantly  green
after a short spring shower.
     "Genaro is going to tell you something, " don Juan said to me  all of a
sudden. "He is going to tell you the story of  his first  encounter with his
ally. Isn't that so, Genaro?"
     There was a tone of coaxing  in don Juan's voice. Don  Genaro looked at
me and  contracted  his lips until his mouth looked  like a round  hole.  He
curled his tongue against  his  palate and opened and closed his mouth as if
he were having spasms.
     Don Juan looked at him and  laughed loudly. I did not know what to make
out of it.
     "What's he doing?" I asked don Juan.
     "He's a hen! "he said.
     "A hen?"
     "Look, look at  his mouth. That's the hen's ass and it is about  to lay
an egg."
     The  spasms of don Genaro's mouth seemed to increase. He had a strange,
crazy look in his eyes. His mouth  opened up as if  the spasms were dilating
the round hole. He made a croaking sound in his throat, folded his arms over
his chest with his hands bent inward, and then unceremoniously spat out some
phlegm.
     "Damn  it! It wasn't  an egg,  " he said with a  concerned look on  his
face.
     The  posture  of  his  body and  the  expression  on his  face were  so
ludicrous that I could not help laughing.
     "Now  that Genaro almost laid  an egg maybe he will tell you about  his
first encounter with his ally, " don Juan insisted.
     "Maybe, " don Genaro said, uninterested. I pleaded with him to tell me.
     Don Genaro  stood  up,  stretched his arms  and back. His bones made  a
cracking sound. Then he sat down again. "I was young when I first tackled my
ally, "  he finally said. "I  remember that it was in the early afternoon. I
had been in the fields since daybreak and I was returning to my house.
     Suddenly, from behind  a bush, the ally came out and blocked my way. He
had been waiting for me and was inviting me to wrestle him.  I began to turn
around in order to  leave him alone but  the thought came to my mind  that I
was strong  enough to tackle him. I was  afraid though. A  chill ran  up  my
spine  and my neck became stiff  as a board. By the way, that is  always the
sign that you're ready, I mean, when your neck gets hard."
     He opened up his shirt and showed me his back. He stiffened the muscles
of  his  neck,  back,  and  arms.  I  noticed  the  superb  quality  of  his
musculature. It was  as if the  memory of the encounter had  activated every
muscle in his torso. "In such  a situation, " he continued, "you must always
close your mouth."
     He turned to don Juan and said, "Isn't that so?"
     "Yes, " don Juan  said calmly. "The jolt that one gets from grabbing an
ally is  so great that one might bite off one's tongue or knock one's  teeth
out. One's  body must be  straight and well-grounded, and the feet must grab
the ground." Don Genaro stood up and showed me the proper position: his body
slightly bent  at the knees, his  arms hanging at his sides with the fingers
curled  gently. He seemed relaxed and  yet  firmly  set  on the  ground.  He
remained in that position for an instant, and when I thought he was going to
sit down  he suddenly lunged  forward in one stupendous  leap, as if he  had
springs attached to his heels. His movement was so sudden that
     I  fell down on my back; but as  I fell I had the clear impression that
don Genaro had grabbed a man, or something which had the shape of a man.
     I  sat  up again. Don Genaro was still maintaining a tremendous tension
all over his  body,  then he relaxed his  muscles  abruptly and went back to
where he had been sitting before and sat down.
     "Carlos just  saw your ally right  now,  " don  Juan remarked casually,
"but he's still weak and fell down."
     "Did you?" don Genaro asked in a naive tone and enlarged his nostrils.
     Don Juan assured him that I had "seen" it.
     Don  Genaro leaped forward again with such a force  that  I fell  on my
side. He  executed his jump so fast that I really could not tell how  he had
sprung to his feet from a sitting position in order to lunge forward.
     Both of them laughed loudly and then  don  Genaro changed his  laughter
into a howling indistinguishable from a coyote's.
     "Don't think that you have to jump  as well  as Genaro in order to grab
your  ally, " don  Juan  said in a  cautioning tone.  "Genaro  jumps so well
because he  has  his ally to help him.  All you have to  do  is to be firmly
grounded in order to sustain the impact. You have to stand  just like Genaro
did before he jumped, then you have to leap forward and grab the ally."
     "He's got to kiss his medallion first, " don Genaro interjected.
     Don Juan, with feigned severity, said that I had no medallions.
     "What  about  his  notebooks?" don Genaro  insisted.  "He's got  to  do
something with his  notebooks - put them down somewhere  before he jumps, or
maybe he'll use his notebooks to beat the ally."
     "I'll be  damned!" don Juan said with  seemingly  genuine  surprise. "I
have never thought of that. I bet it'll be the first time an ally is  beaten
down to the ground with notebooks."
     When don Juan's laughter and  don Genaro's coyote howlings subsided  we
were all in a very fine mood. "What happened when you grabbed your ally, don
Genaro?" I  asked. "It was a powerful  jolt,  "  don  Genaro  said  after  a
moment's hesitation. He seemed to have been putting his thoughts in order.
     "Never would I have imagined it was going to be like that," he went on.
"It was something, something, something . . . like nothing I can tell. After
I grabbed it we began  to spin. The ally made me twirl, but I didn't let go.
We spun through  the air with  such speed  and force that I couldn't see any
more. Everything was foggy. The spinning went on, and on, and on. Suddenly I
felt that  I was standing on the ground again. I looked at  myself. The ally
had not killed me.  I was in one piece. I was myself! I knew then that I had
succeeded. At long  last I had  an ally. I jumped up and  down with delight.
What a feeling! What a feeling it was!
     "Then I  looked around to find  out where I was. The  surroundings were
unknown to  me. I thought that  the ally must have taken  me through the air
and dumped me somewhere very far from the place where we  started to spin. I
oriented myself. I thought that my home must be towards the east, so I began
to walk in that direction. It was still early. The encounter  with the  ally
had not taken too long. Very  soon I found a trail and then I saw a bunch of
men  and  women coming  towards me. They were Indians.  I  thought they were
Mazatec Indians. They surrounded me and asked me where I was going. Tm going
home to Ixtlan, ' I said to them. 'Are you lost?'  someone asked. 'I am, ' I
said.  'Why?' 'Because  Ixtlan is not  that way.  Ixtlan is  in the opposite
direction. We ourselves  are  going there,  ' someone  else said. 'Join us!'
they all said. 'We have food!'"
     Don  Genaro stopped talking and looked at me as if he were  waiting for
me to ask a question.
     "Well, what happened?" I asked. "Did you join them?"
     "No.  I didn't, " he said. "Because they were not real. I knew it right
away, the  minute they  came to me. There was something  in their voices, in
their  friendliness  that gave them  away, especially  when they asked me to
join them.  So I  ran away. They called me and begged me to come back. Their
pleas became haunting, but I kept on running away from them."
     "Who were they?" I asked.
     "People, " don Genaro  replied  cuttingly.  "Except that they  were not
real."
     "They were like apparitions, " don Juan explained. "Like phantoms."
     "After walking  for a while,  "  don  Genaro went  on,  "I  became more
confident. I knew that  Ixtlan was  in the direction I was going. And then I
saw two men coming down the trail towards me. They also seemed to be Mazatec
Indians. They had  a  donkey  loaded with  firewood.  They  went  by  me and
mumbled, 'Good afternoon.'
     "'Good afternoon!'  I said  and kept  on walking. They did not  pay any
attention to me and  went  their  way.  I  slowed down my gait  and casually
turned around to  look at them. They were walking away unconcerned with  me.
They  seemed  to be real. I  ran after them and yelled, 'Wait, wait!'  "They
held their  donkey and stood  on either side of the animal, as  if they were
protecting the load. "I am lost in these mountains, ' I said to them. 'Which
way is Ixtlan?' They pointed in the direction they were going.
     'You're very far, ' one of them said. 'It is on the other side of those
mountains. It'll take you  four or five days to get there.' Then they turned
around and kept on walking. I felt that those were real Indians and I begged
them  to  let me join them. "We walked together for a while and  then one of
them got his bundle of food and offered me some. I froze on the  spot. There
was  something terribly strange in the way he offered  me his food.  My body
felt frightened, so I jumped back and began to run away. They both said that
I would die in the mountains if I did not go with them  and tried to coax me
to join them. Their pleas were also very haunting, but I  ran away from them
with all  my might. "I kept on walking. I knew then that I was  on the right
way to Ixtlan and that those phantoms were trying to lure me out of my way.
     "I   encountered  eight  of   them;  they  must  have  known  that   my
determination was unshakable. They stood  by the road and looked  at me with
pleading  eyes.  Most of them  did  not say a word;  the women  among  them,
however, were more daring  and  pleaded with me. Some of them even displayed
food  and other  goods that they were supposed to be selling,  like innocent
merchants by the side of the road. I did not stop nor did I look at them.
     "By late afternoon I came to a valley that I seemed  to  recognize.  It
was somehow familiar. I thought I had been there before, but if that was  so
I  was  actually south of Ixtlan.  I began to look for landmarks to properly
orient myself and correct  my route  when I saw a little Indian boy  tending
some goats.
     He was perhaps seven years old and  was dressed the way I had been when
I  was  his age. In fact, he reminded me of myself tending  my father's  two
goats.  "I  watched  him for some time; the  boy was talking to himself, the
same way I used to, then he would talk to his goats. From  what I knew about
tending goats  he  was really good at it. He  was  thorough and  careful. He
didn't pamper his goats, but he wasn't cruel to them either.
     "I decided to call him. When I talked  to him in a loud voice he jumped
up  and ran away to  a ledge and  peeked  at me from behind  some  rocks. He
seemed to be ready  to run for his life. I liked him. He seemed to be afraid
and yet he still found time to herd his goats out of my sight.
     "I talked to him for a long time; I said that I was lost and that I did
not know my way to Ixtlan. I asked the name of the place where we  were  and
he said it was the place I had  thought it  was.  That made me very happy. I
realized I was no longer lost and pondered on the power  that my ally had in
order to transport my whole body that far in less time than it  takes to bat
an eyelash.
     "I thanked the boy  and began to walk away. He casually came out of his
hiding place  and herded his  goats into an almost  unnoticeable trail.  The
trail seemed  to lead down into the valley. I called the boy and he did  not
run away. I walked towards him and he jumped into the bushes when I came too
close.  I  commended  him  on being so  cautious  and  began to ask him some
questions.
     'Where does this  trail lead?' I asked. 'Down, ' he said. 'Where do you
live?' 'Down  there.' 'Are there lots of houses down there?' 'No, just one.'
'Where are  the other houses?' The boy pointed towards the other side of the
valley with indifference, the way boys his age do. Then he began to  go down
the trail with his goats.
     "Wait, ' I said to the boy. 'I'm very tired and hungry. Take me to your
folks."
     "I have no folks, ' the little  boy said and that  jolted  me.  I don't
know  why  but his voice made me hesitate. The boy,  noticing my hesitation,
stopped and turned to me. 'There's nobody at my  house, ' he said. 'My uncle
is gone  and his wife  went to the fields. There is plenty of  food. Plenty.
Come with  me. "I almost felt sad.  The boy was also a phantom. The  tone of
his voice and his eagerness had betrayed him. The phantoms were out there to
get me but  I wasn't afraid. I  was still numb from  my  encounter  with the
ally.  I wanted to  get mad  at  the ally or at the phantoms but  somehow  I
couldn't get angry like I used to, so I gave up trying. Then I wanted to get
sad, because I had liked that little  boy,  but I couldn't, so I  gave up on
that too.
     "Suddenly I realized that I had an ally and that there was nothing that
the  phantoms  could do to me. I  followed  the boy  down the  trail.  Other
phantoms  lurched out swiftly and tried to make me trip over the precipices,
but my will was stronger than they were. They must have sensed that, because
they stopped pestering me. After a while they simply stood by  my path; from
time to time some of them  would leap towards me but I stopped them  with my
will. And then they quit bothering me altogether." Don Genaro remained quiet
for a long time. Don Juan looked at me.
     "What happened after that, don Genaro?" I asked.
     "I kept on walking, " he said factually.
     It seemed that he had finished his tale and there was nothing he wanted
to add.  I asked him why was the  fact that they offered him food a  clue to
their being phantoms. He did not answer. I probed further  and asked whether
it was a custom among Mazatec Indians to deny  that they had any food, or to
be heavily  concerned with matters  of  food. He said that the tone of their
voices,  their  eagerness  to  lure him  out, and  the  manner in  which the
phantoms talked about food were the clues-and that he  knew that because his
ally was helping  him. He asserted that by himself alone he would have never
noticed  those  peculiarities.  "Were those phantoms  allies, don Genaro?" I
asked.
     "No. They were people."
     "People? But you said they were phantoms."
     "I said that they were no