All the while she was arguing with Rosaura she kept breaking off chunks of tortilla, until she had divided them all into minuscule pieces. Tita angrily slid them onto a plate and went out to throw them to the chickens, so that she could get on with the preparation of the beans.  All the clotheslines on the patio were full of Esperanza’s snow-white diapers.  They were the most beautiful diapers.  They had all spent whole afternoons embroidering the borders.  They swayed in the wind like foam-covered waves. Tita had to tear her eyes away from them.  She had to forget that for the first time the child was eating without her if she wanted to be able to finish fixing dinner.  She went back to the kitchen and set about preparing beans.

The chopped onion is fried in lard.  When it has turned golden brown, add the pureed chiles anchos to the pan and salt to taste.

       After the broth is seasoned, add the beans with the pork and pork rinds.

       It was hopeless to try to forget Esperanza.  Pouring the beans into the pan, Tita remembered how much the child liked bean broth.  To feed it to her, she sat her on her knees, spread a huge napkin over her front, and gave her broth with a little silver spoon hitting against Esperanza’s first tooth.  Now two more were coming in. Tita was very careful not to hurt them when she was feeding her.  She hoped that Rosaura would be, too.

       She couldn’t continue her reflections because the chickens were starting to make a huge ruckus on the patio.  It seemed they’d gone mad or developed a taste for cock-fighting. They were giving little pecks at each other, trying to snatch away the last chunks of tortilla left on the ground.  They hopped and flew wildly in every direction, launching violent attacks.  Among the whole group, there was one that was in the greatest frenzy, using her beak to peck out the eyes of every hen she could, so that Esperanza’s white diapers were sprayed with blood.  Tita, stunned, tried to break up the fight, throwing a bucket of water over them.  That only enraged them more, raising the battle to a higher pitch.  They formed a circle, each one setting dizzily upon the next.  Soon the chickens were inescapably trapped by the force they themselves were generating in their mad chase; they couldn’t break loose from that whirl of feathers, blood, and dust that spun faster and faster, gathering force at every turn until it changed into a mighty tornado, destroying everything in its path, starting with the things that were closest—in this case, Esperanza’s diapers, hanging on the patio clothesline. Tita tried to save a few diapers, but when she went to get them, she found herself being swept away by the force of the incredible whirlwind, which lifted her several feet off the ground and took her on three hellish orbits within the fury of beaks before flinging her onto the opposite end of the patio, where she landed like a sack of potatoes.

       Tita stayed flat on the ground, terrified.  She couldn’t move.  If she was caught in the whirlwind again, the chickens could peck her eyes out.  That hen hurricane was boring a hole in the dirt of the patio, a hole so deep that most of the chickens disappeared from the face of the earth.  The earth swallowed them up.  After that fight, only three chickens remained, plucked bald and one-eyed.  And no diapers.

       She entered the kitchen and went to finish the preparation of the beans, but much to her surprise she found that the beans still weren’t done, despite the hours they had been cooking.

       Something strange was going on. Tita remembered that Nacha had always said that when people argue while preparing tamales, the tamales won’t get cooked.  They can be heated day after day and still stay raw, because the tamales are angry.  In a case like that, you have to sing to them, which makes them happy; then they’ll cook.  Tita supposed the same thing had happened with the beans, which had witnessed her fight with Rosaura.  That meant all she could do was to try to improve their mood, to sing them a song full of love.