As though by magic, a black priest appears as though from nowhere while Juan is getting up off his knees. He greets us in lightly French-accented English and appears especially focussed on Juan, who ignores him. Later, as we are leaving the cathedral I mention to Juan that he had his chance to talk with a priest, a male priest, and he blew it by ignoring him. He replies that he never holds converse with slaves unless he has work for them to do, then stumbles as he is nearly run over by a young punk on a skateboard. He instinctively reaches for his nonexistent sword, then goes running after him. The kid has gotten too far ahead and Juan returns to us, surly and muttering under his breath, as though having lost every single drop of blessing he was enjoying while kneeling before the Blessed Virgin less than ten minutes ago.
Ilhuitl wants a skateboard, he badly wants to learn how to ride one. Juan is holding out for a bicycle and makes very evident to Ilhuitl his scorn for his transportation preference. But the wheel is still and likely will always be for him a novelty, a thing of fascination.. In the meantime we walk everywhere. I ask Ilhuitl if he can further explain his interest in the wheel. He says that it reminds him of the sun disc on which their sacred calendar has been carved and written, and that it had never before occurred to him that the form of the sun could also carry us to where we wanted to go. He stops at explaining further, but the muted expression of wonder on his face is every bit as unmistakable as it is subtle. The Aztecs worshipped the sun. And killed thousands, possibly millions of innocent lives in votive offering to their god.
They cannot seem to refrain from looking up at the skyscrapers surrounding us. He wants to know if they are a new kind of temple, and if so, how would they get the sacrificial victims to the top, without an exterior staircase. I remind him that human sacrifice is no longer practiced, and certainly not here in Canada. He nods in acknowledgment, then asks me why, without the practice of human sacrifice, the cosmic order has not collapsed, or perhaps do we worship a new set of gods, different from the bloodthirsty deities he was raised on.
I reply that here, now, everyone worships what or whom they choose, or choose not to worship and this is generally respected. Juan cannot comprehend that the one true church isn't allowed to govern our affairs and our lives. But Juan wants to know how we can possibly know to do what is right, without believing holy church. I reply that in Spain during his time the one true faith did nothing to prevent the bloody wars and slaughters of the Crusades nor the burning of innocents during the Inquisition. Juan insists that they were witches, Jews and heretics. I reply, trying to curb my rising temper, that his beloved holy church has always been completely out of step with their lord, Jesus Christ, who taught love and nonviolence. He denies this. I challenge him to show me where in the Gospels is it indicated that Jesus would approve of the killing of others. Juan, who has never picked up a Bible in his life (he has only heard it read to him, like all Spaniards of his era, by the priests), mutters that I am no better than a Saracen, but respectfully backs away from confrontation.
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