the slow, undying antagonism and curiosity which “normals” have towards “freaks.” The slow, powerful, corrosive Indian mockery, issuing from the lava-rock Indian nature, against anything which strives to be above the grey, lava-rock level.
“Is it true, Niña, that your country is through there?” Juana asked, jabbing her finger downward, towards the bowels of the earth.
“Not quite!” said Kate. “My country is more there—” and she slanted her finger at the earth’s surface.
“Ah—that way!” said Juana. And she looked at Kate with a subtle leer, as if to say: what could you expect from people who came out of the earth sideways, like sprouts of camote!
“And is it true, that over there, there are people with only one eye—here!” Juana punched herself in the middle of her forehead.
“No. That isn’t true. That is just a story.”
“Ah!” said