The boy at Villa de Reyes
Subj: 10 The boy at Villa de Reyes
Date: 8/7/01 8:53:41 AM Central Daylight Time
The boy at Villa de Reyes
Leaving Zacatecas I continued south via Dolores Hidalgo, San Miguel Allende
and San Luis Potosi towards my destination of the Celya vicinity. I wanted
to go to Celya because it sits in the Bajio area of Mexico. The Bajio is
the heartland of Mexico and I thought it important to see, and a good place
to find old haciendas. For now none of this matters.
What does matter is that I entered San Luis Potosi with the intention of
finding the biggest grocery store in town and there to purchase some real
coffee. I had been suffering the indignity of instant coffee for nearly a
month now. Surely this city of 700,000 in a country where they grew coffee
could support a can of real coffee in its biggest store. I considered this
the litmus test of civilization and refinement. If I could find no coffee
then Potosi would be assigned to the ranks of the other Northern Injun
outposts I had passed through until now. A city in size only, but lacking
the refinements of civilization and modernity. Indeed I found the biggest
store in town rather quickly by making a wrong turn on the biggest road in
town. As I made my way into the parking lot of the Sorina I recognized one
of the beauties of Mexico. The parking lots always have lots of space
because so few Mexicans have cars. Viva Mexico! I made my entry into the
store and indeed it appeared hopeful. The store extended in front and
around me with racks of merchandise stacked high, and wide aisles filled
with air conditioned air. The store appeared well, very American. I had
been deceived before so judgment would wait until I had the coffee in hand.
Behold, the coffee was there not a huge selection but enough to push Potosi
into the ranks of a first rate second world city. With the coffee in my
possession I could feel my coffee craving subsiding as I made the right turn
on the biggest road out of town.
Twenty-five miles later I turned off the biggest road in town and headed
southwest toward a wide spot in the road called Villa de Reyes (21deg 48' N
100deg 56'W). Approaching the outskirts of Villa de Reyes at my usual 48
mph cruising speed a taxi flew by going at least 70mph. Thirty seconds
later I came upon the taxi. He was pulled off on the side of the road. As
I closed in there were people standing beside the road (nothing uncommon).
I could see very long and very fresh skid marks leading toward the taxi.
The taxi looked fine. Then from the corner of my eye in the midst of the
people beside the road I noticed someone lying in the dirt. It took a
second before the scene gelled in my mind. I got on the brakes and turned
back toward the scene. As I was coming back the taxi was throwing gravel as
he drove back on the pavement to make his getaway. I came to a dusty stop
near the group of people. They had formed a big arc around the boy lying
face down in the dirt. No one was closer than 15 feet to the boy. I went
over to the boy who appeared to be about 8 years old. I felt for a pulse at
his neck and wrist while noting the blood and fluid coming from his mouth
and nose. Not able to detect a pulse and with no signs of respiration I
motioned for the man closest to me to help me turn the boy over. He
supported his head while I turned the boy. The boys body felt warm in my
hands. He must have been running around playing. I felt again for a pulse,
nothing. I pulled his shirt up and could see the blood under his skin
covering most of his chest. I put my ear to his chest checking again for a
pulse. I could feel the warmth of his body against my head and I could hear
a heartbeat, but the heartbeat I heard was my own. By now my heart was
beating rapidly. I brought my head up from his warm chest and looked into
his sand filled eyes and mouth of smashed teeth. I looked at all the
internal bleeding in his chest. I knelt there in the dirt wondering,
contemplating, CPR? Should I begin CPR? I stared at his battered chest
wondering how many broken ribs there might be to pierce his lung if I
started CPR. I wondered how to explain a procedure as forceful as CPR to
the crowd of people watching me. These people knew nothing of CPR and it
might only serve to deepen the pain of his mother who was standing there
with the crowd, crying. To give her the hope that I this alien visitor knew
something, that I could do something. For I was an alien from a world where
trauma surgeons revive the dead. Although I was from that world I was not
in that world. I was in Mexico, worse I was in rural Mexico almost as
removed from the wide coffee carrying air-conditioned aisles of San Luis
Potosi as I was from the medical miracles of the US. This was rural Mexico
a place where people can receive trauma but the can't receive trauma care.
All these thought went though my mind as I knelt in the dirt looking into
his sand filled eyes and the bloody mud by his head. The man who helped me
was still kneeling at the boys head looking at me for an answer. I decided
not to do CPR. I looked at the man and shook my head. Seconds later a man
with a cell phone came over and spoke with the man at the boys head. The
man told him the boy was dead. I had unknowingly made the pronouncement of
death, and it was taken as fact.
With nothing more to do we got up and walked away from the body. As I
turned away the boys mother came up behind me pleading with me. She was
pleading with me to tell her I could do something, to tell her that her son
would live. I turned to face her, but I could not look her in the eye. I
did not want to see the pain in the eyes of a mother facing the sudden and
tragic death of her son. I stood there facing her without seeing her. I
could feel myself tremble. I could still feel the warmth of the boy, the
body on my hands. I had no answers. I walked beyond the arc of people
around the body. Mercifully a lady placed a sheet over the boy so his
mother would not have to look at the sand filled death gaze of her son.
The Mexican version of an ambulance showed up. After taking an eternity to
park the ambulance man walked over to the man who made the cell phone call.
They talked briefly and then the man got back in the ambulance and left.
The ambulance man never got within 10 yards of the body. I stayed awhile
longer watching the scene. There was nothing left for me to do. The only
thing left for the boy now was the crying.
