As the days went by, Nil kept ignoring the sheriff, but Giovanni didn’t take it personally. He told himself he was only doing his job, and even if the apothecary didn’t like his methods, nothing was more important than the town’s safety.

Meanwhile, Nil was having a hard time integrating into Arcelia. Everyone in town knew Doctor Salvador and, of course, his daughter María, his twenty-three-year-old nurse. The doctor had brought most of the town’s residents into the world, and over time, his daughter followed in his footsteps, assisting in the births of the children of those her father had once helped deliver.

Aging was part of life. It was only natural that, at some point, Doctor Salvador would hand over his responsibilities to María’s husband. But a stranger?

No one knew where he came from or where he was headed. There were rumors that the sheriff didn’t trust him, and that there was even an ongoing investigation into the man. Others said he wasn’t a real doctor at all—just a young man with some knowledge. If that were the case, it was understandable that the townspeople didn’t easily trust his abilities.

Most of the time, when the people of Arcelia went to the clinic and found Nil there, they would insist that Doctor Salvador be the one to examine them—after all, he knew their medical history; he’d been diagnosing them their entire lives. On other occasions, Nil could tend to the patients, as long as Doctor Salvador was present and supervising the situation.

But there were moments when Señor Salvador needed to rest. During those times, María and Nil stayed behind to run the clinic, and one of two things would happen. Upon seeing that Doctor Salvador wasn’t around, people would either announce they’d come back later or the next day, when the doctor was available—or, if it was something very minor, they would ask for María instead.

Nil didn’t show it, but the situation was deeply painful to him. He was starting to remember why he’d never settled anywhere before. It was always the same in every town—no one was willing to trust a stranger.

It wasn’t the same to be a distant relative as it was to be a strange reverend who came from who knows where. If you were family, your relatives served as your reference. But, as always, Nil didn’t have that. It also wasn’t the same being a nomadic apothecary. People needed you. They couldn’t always find the medicine they needed in their own town—most of the time, they had to travel to neighboring villages, and in more extreme cases, all the way to Mexico City, to the capital district.

Not everyone could afford a one-way trip, let alone a round one—plus the cost of the medicine. That’s why Nil had been so appreciated: for low-income families, it was a blessing to have a medicine that could only be found in the capital come in the cart of a traveling apothecary—and better yet, for the apothecary to have prepared it himself.

What they would’ve spent on a single bottle of medicine, tickets, food, and lodging, they could instead use to buy five to seven bottles of medicine—and still have money left over. That was the difference. With Nil, they had the option to buy the medicine from him or from their own town. After all, if it didn’t work, they’d never buy from him again and might even call the officers at the station to have him arrested.

But here, things were different. Here, it wasn’t enough for María and Señor Salvador to vouch for him. Here, you had to prove yourself. But Nil didn’t want to. No—more like—he didn’t know how.

— Cheer up! — María said cheerfully as she served him a clay mug of freshly brewed café de olla.

— I’m not discouraged. — Nil replied, thanking her for the coffee. <<Either way, I’m leaving. As soon as I’m better.>> thought the blue-eyed young man.

María blew on her coffee and then smiled boldly. — Nosy — Nil looked at her in surprise, and as if María were reading his mind, she quickly explained. — You may not know it, but your eyes give you away. I know people’s expressions very well. Over the years, I’ve seen when people are telling the truth and when they’re lying—out of shame or fear. I’ve seen people scared of dying, yet still say calming words to their families.

The young woman stared sadly at the coffee in her mug — I’ve seen anger in their eyes from the helplessness of not being able to heal. I’ve seen pain, disappointment, and more emotions than I could name. — María looked straight into Nil’s eyes. — You might be very good at pretending, but there are moments when you just can’t hide what’s obvious.

Nil stayed silent for a few seconds. Just as he was about to respond, an awful crash echoed from the street. María and Nil looked at each other, confirming with their eyes that it hadn’t just been their imagination—and instantly, they rushed outside.

What they found were two old women yelling at the top of their lungs in the middle of the street, while a small crowd began to gather, drawn by curiosity. María let out a sigh of relief and commented with amusement,
— Oh, it’s just Doña Claudia and Doña Eufemia. —
Nil looked at her, completely lost.

— Just? — he repeated, clearly expecting some kind of explanation.

María looked at him in disbelief. She couldn’t understand how Nil didn’t know what it meant for those two women to cross paths—but then it hit her. Of course he didn’t know. He wasn’t from here. That realization made her grin from ear to ear.

She grabbed Nil by the wrist and pulled him toward the growing crowd.
— Come on, you can’t miss this.

Nil still didn’t get it, but he had nothing better to do, so he didn’t protest. The sky was already turning shades of orange and purple. Most people were heading home, but as soon as they saw Doña Claudia and Doña Eufemia arguing, they ran to see what was going on!

Still, something told Nil they weren’t doing it out of concern for the elderly women’s safety. No, this felt more like a crowd that didn’t want to miss whatever was about to go down.

He had barely taken another step when a guarache flew past his face so fast he could feel the wind of it brushing his skin.

— HOLY VIRGIN! — he shouted reflexively, spinning around just in time to see the sandal hit an unfortunate man passing by, knocking him flat to the ground.

In front of him, the two elderly women screamed at each other with the rage of people who’d been holding onto grudges for decades.

Doña Claudia—around sixty-five years old, with long braided hair—was gripping a broom like she was ready to fight the devil himself. Meanwhile, Doña Eufemia—roughly sixty, with short curly gray hair—was twisting her rebozo between her hands with the precision only earned through years of practice.

— YOU OWE ME FOR THE CORN MY ROOSTER LOST, CLAUDIA! — shouted Doña Eufemia, waving her rebozo high.

— HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO PAY FOR SOMETHING THAT’S NOT MY FAULT, EUFEMIA?! — Doña Claudia yelled back, brandishing her broom.

Nil frowned and looked at María.
— What the hell is going on?

María sighed, amused.
— Honestly? No idea. Hold on a sec. — she said, and leaned over to ask one of the bystanders.

— Got it! — she said triumphantly, bouncing back over to Nil and whispering in his ear — Doña Eufemia—the one with the short hair and rebozo of death—says her rooster ran out of corn because a hen came into her house and ate it. But Doña Claudia—the one with the braids—says the hen was Eufemia’s. So basically, she’s demanding that she pay herself.

Nil blinked and looked at María, searching her face for any hint that this wasn’t real. But the young woman only smiled, clearly amused—like this was the highlight of the month.

— Let them be —she whispered—. They’re just getting started.

Nil was about to ask what the hell that meant when, at that moment, Doña Claudia launched her attack, swinging her broom like a battle axe.

— DON’T PLAY DUMB! THAT HEN’S YOURS!

Doña Eufemia dodged the blow with the agility of a woman who’d been in many fights like this. With a quick motion, she flung her rebozo into Claudia’s face like a hunter’s net.

— THAT’S SO YOU LEARN NOT TO ACCUSE INNOCENT PEOPLE!

Nil’s eyes widened in disbelief as he watched Doña Claudia wrestle with the fabric tangled around her head, thrashing like an angry rooster.

— You’re trying to kill me, you old witch! — she shouted, finally freeing herself.

— If I wanted to kill you, you’d already be six feet under, Claudia!

The crowd let out a collective “OOOOOH!” as if they were watching the best show of their lives.

— Is this... normal? — Nil murmured toward María, unable to take his eyes off the scene.

— Pfft, of course — she replied, barely holding back laughter — They’ve been fighting over stuff like this for years. One time they nearly set the plaza on fire arguing about who made the best tamales.

— Who won?

— The town. We ate both.

Without missing a beat, Claudia lifted her guarache and threw it with impressive aim.

Nil felt his soul leave his body as he watched the sandal spin through the air like a deadly projectile.

— SWEET LORD! — people shouted, thinking Doña Eufemia was done for.

But the guarache only grazed Eufemia’s head. Without hesitation, she pulled off her own and flung it back with even more force.

The crowd erupted in cheers and gasps as the fight escalated. People started placing bets, and Nil no longer knew if he was in a peaceful town or a gladiator arena.

But just as he was settling in for the next round of chaos, a loud whistle cut through the air.

Silence fell.

Nil felt a chill run down his spine.

With his hat pushed back and an expression that screamed “I’m so done with this bullshit,” Giovanni made his way through the crowd, arms crossed. He was flanked by Noé—the young man who had helped bring Nil to town—and another man Nil hadn’t seen before.

— Who’s that? — Nil asked María as he leaned closer.

— Who, Noé or Rafael? — María asked, just to be sure.

— Both. — Nil replied.

— The one to the right of my cousin is Noé, and the short one is Rafael. They’re both deputies at the station, though honestly? Giovanni’s the one who does most of the work. Those two are more like... backup.

— Alright... — Giovanni sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose — What is it this time?

Doña Claudia smiled innocently.

—Nothing, mi'jito, just chatting with Eufemia.

—Yes, yes, just words, Alguacil, no hitting, like we promised last time. —added Doña Eufemia, hiding the other sandal behind her shawl.

Giovanni exhaled through his nose, running a hand down his face.

—For the love of God, it’s always the same with you two!

That was a mistake.

Doña Claudia narrowed her eyes in deep indignation.

—What do you mean, “always”? —She spoke in a low voice, with a tone of disbelief, as if being called out for “a few times” made her a criminal.

Doña Eufemia raised an eyebrow. —Are you calling us troublemakers, young man?

Giovanni felt danger in the air.

—No, no, I just... —He raised his hands trying to calm them down, but neither of the ladies wanted to hear reason.

—YOU NOSEY OLD MAN!

—SHOW SOME RESPECT TO YOUR ELDERS, WE’RE OLD ENOUGH TO BE YOUR MOTHER!

— Ha, more like his grandmother. —Replied Eufemia, mocking Claudia.

Doña Claudia slowly turned her head to look straight at her lifelong friend, —Excuse me? —asked the elderly woman as if what she had just heard couldn’t possibly be real.

Eufemia let out a cheeky little laugh, —Don’t try to shave off years, you’ve got at least ten too many to be his mother.

The mood shifted from cheerful and playful to dangerous. —You damned old hag, can’t you see I was defending you? You’re not just a pain in the ass, you’re stupid! —Shouted Doña Claudia.

—Did you bite your tongue?! Starving tramp! —Eufemia snapped back, and this time, she threw the sandal she’d just hidden behind her shawl.

Doña Claudia dodged Eufemia’s sandal like she’d been expecting it from the start. Before anyone could react, Doña Claudia hurled her broom and Doña Eufemia tossed her shawl, the commotion escalated and things were getting out of hand.

Nil saw it all in slow motion.

The Alguacil dodged the broom swings and the shawl lashes like he was used to this, even more than he’d care to admit out loud. At first, Rafael and Noé tried to stay on the sidelines, attempting to kindly ask the grandmas to calm down until...

WHACK!

A broom hit meant for Eufemia landed squarely on Giovanni’s face.

Utter silence. All the townspeople stood there with their mouths open. Doña Claudia and Doña Eufemia stared at each other in clear terror. In all their years of “friendly” disputes, they had never, ever hurt anyone.

—Primo! —María was the first to break the silence, running to Giovanni with a worried look.

The Alguacil was completely still, head slightly tilted and a hand over his face, exactly where Doña Claudia’s broom had struck. His jaw was clenched, and his knuckles cracked as he balled his fists.

Doña Claudia and Doña Eufemia were frozen stiff.

—Híjole... —murmured Doña Claudia, barely audible.

—We went too far this time... —whispered Doña Eufemia.

Giovanni took a slow, deep breath. —I’m not going to ask which one of you it was —he said, with a tone that was dangerously calm—. Because honestly, I don’t care.

The townspeople swallowed hard.

—But now, both of you... YOU’RE COMING WITH ME TO THE STATION.

The entire town gasped.

—NOOOOOO! —a woman screamed.

—ALGUACIL, DON’T BE SO CRUEL! —begged a man. — IT WAS AN ACCIDENT!

—YOU CAN’T LOCK THEM UP, THEY’RE A TOWN TREASURE! —another complained.

Giovanni ignored them and pointed at Rafael and Noé.

—Take them away!

Rafael and Noé exchanged uneasy glances.

—Like... just like that? —whispered Noé.

—I’m not grabbing them, what if they throw a broom at me? —replied Rafael.

In the end, the two old women were escorted to the station among pleading and weeping from the townspeople, who treated the arrest as if it were a national tragedy.

Nil, watching the scene with a mix of astonishment and amusement, crossed his arms.

—Is this how justice works in this town?

María sighed.

—It’s more like a circus. In a few hours, Giovanni’s going to let them go and they’ll be back at it.

Nil laughed. —I doubt the Alguacil will survive another ten years of this routine.