Matteo “Matt” Alacrán Character Analysis

“Don’t fix that one,” said Lisa, hastily catching his arm. “It’s a Matteo Alacrán. They’re always left intact.”

Have I done you a favor? thought Eduardo as he watched the baby turn its head toward the bustling nurses in their starched, white uniforms. Will you thank me for it later?

“I should have known what he—it—was the minute I saw it. No servant would be allowed to keep a child or live away from the others. Benito told me about the situation, only I thought it was living somewhere else. In a zoo, maybe. Wherever those things are kept.”

Celia said the Virgin loved all kind and gentle things. She wouldn’t approve of throwing a rotten orange in Tom’s face, even if he deserved it. If She looked inside Matt, She would see the bad thoughts about Rosa and the doctor and be sad.

“You can speak now, mi vida,” said Celia, but Matt wasn’t ready to go that far.

“Mi vida. I like that,” the old man said with a chuckle. “I like it so much, in fact, it’s what I’ll call him. Can he talk?”

“I think he’s in shock. […] He’s very intelligent, mi patron.”

“Of course. He’s my clone.”

“Matt is to be treated with respect, just as though I were here in his place. He is to be educated, well fed, and entertained. He is not to be mistreated.” El Patrón looked directly at Tom, who flushed red. “Anyone—anyone—who harms Matt will be dealt with severely. Do I make myself clear?”

“I’ll tell you this: El Patrón has his good side and his bad side. […] When he was young, he made a choice, like a tree does when it decides to grow one way or the other. He grew large and green until he shadowed over the whole forest, but most of his branches are twisted.”

“The man we saw on the ground probably lagged behind the other workers and didn’t hear the foreman tell them to stop. He might have worked all night, getting thirstier and thirstier—”

“Stop!” shrilled Matt. He covered his ears. This was horrible! He didn’t want to know any more.

He threw himself into studying everything that came before him. Matt could name the planets, the brightest stars, and all the constellations. He memorized the names of countries, their capitals and chief exports.

He was in a rage to learn. He would excel, and then everyone would love him and forget he was a clone.

The senator didn’t know that María had kissed Matt on several occasions, just as she kissed Furball and anything else that pleased her. Matt knew this was different, though. He was humiliating her. If it had been Tom asking for the kiss, no one would have cared. People would have thought it cute for a boy to flirt with his novia.

Matt wasn’t a boy. He was a beast.

“It’s a boy,” whispered María.

It was. Only first Matt thought it was some kind of beast, so alien and terrible was its face. It had doughy, unhealthy skin and red hair that struck up in bristles…Worst of all was the terrible energy that rolled through the trapped body. The creature never stopped moving. It was as though invisible snakes were rippling beneath the skin and forcing its arms and legs to move in a ceaseless bid for freedom.

“Are there any others like me?” he asked.

“No. You’re the only one,” Celia said.

The only one! He was unique. He was special. Matt’s heart swelled with pride. If he wasn’t human, he might become something even better.

For the first time he realized what a terrible thing it was to be an eejit. He hadn’t known any of the others before their operation. They were simply there to do boring jobs. But Rosa had been a real, though cruel and violent, person. Now she was merely a shadow with the life sucked out of her.

“You don’t have a soul, so you can’t be baptized. All animals are like that. I think it’s unfair and sometimes I don’t believe it. After all, what would heaven be without birds or dogs or horses? And what about trees and flowers? They don’t have souls either. Does that mean heaven looks like a parking lot?”

It couldn’t be! Matt pressed his hands against his temples to keep the idea inside. If he didn’t think it, it wouldn’t be real.

But it slipped through his fingers anyway. MacGregor had created a clone so he could have transplants when he needed them. The thing in the hospital had every reason to howl! And what was the source of El Patrón’s fetal implants?

“He’s livestock,” Steven said with a cold smile. “The law is very clear. All clones are classified as livestock because they’re grown inside cows. Cows can’t give birth to humans.”

Equally, he couldn’t return to the mansion. The only way out was the border of Aztlán. You can do it, he imagined Tam Lin saying. I guess I have to, thought Matt, turning to look one last time at the quiet meadow, the white plumes of bear grass, and the black-throated sparrows flitting through the trees.

“Boys, boys, boys! Hasn’t anyone told you labor is shared equally among equals? If one person has to walk, everyone has to.”

“You’re not walking,” Matt pointed out.

“Some boys have to learn the hard way. They have to be broken and mended and broken again until they learn to do what they’re told. It may be simple, like sweeping a floor, but they do it eagerly to keep from being broken again. And they do it forever, for as long as they live.”

“In other words, you want to turn me into a zombie,” said Matt.

What could he do? Where could he go? He couldn’t stay here until Jorge came back to check up on things. But he couldn’t leave Chacho behind, either. He limped back to the basin and sat on the edge. He talked and talked, sometimes exhorting Chacho to come toward his voice, sometimes only rambling on about his childhood.

“How can anyone celebrate death?”

“Because it’s part of us,” Consuela said softly.

“Mi abuelita said I mustn’t be afraid of skeletons I carry my own around inside,” said Fidelito. “She told me to feel my ribs and make friends with them.”

“Your grandmother was very wise,” said Consuela.

“You can’t have two versions of the same person at the same time,” Esperanza went on. “One of them—the copy—has to be declared an unperson. But when the original dies, the copy takes his place.”

“Matt’s human?”

“He always was,” her mother replied. “The law is a wicked fiction to make it possible to use clones for transplants. But bad law or not, we’re going to use t now. If you survive the landing, Matt, I’ll do everything in my power to make you the new reigning drug lord. […] Only you must promise me that once you’re in control, you’ll destroy the opium empire.”

Tomorrow he would begin the task of breaking down the empire of Opium. It was a huge and terrifying job, but he wasn’t alone. He had Chacho, Fidelito, and Ton-Ton to cheer him on. He had Celia and Daft Donald to advise him and María to be everyone’s conscience.

“Don’t fix that one,” said Lisa, hastily catching his arm. “It’s a Matteo Alacrán. They’re always left intact.”

Have I done you a favor? thought Eduardo as he watched the baby turn its head toward the bustling nurses in their starched, white uniforms. Will you thank me for it later?

“I should have known what he—it—was the minute I saw it. No servant would be allowed to keep a child or live away from the others. Benito told me about the situation, only I thought it was living somewhere else. In a zoo, maybe. Wherever those things are kept.”

Celia said the Virgin loved all kind and gentle things. She wouldn’t approve of throwing a rotten orange in Tom’s face, even if he deserved it. If She looked inside Matt, She would see the bad thoughts about Rosa and the doctor and be sad.

“You can speak now, mi vida,” said Celia, but Matt wasn’t ready to go that far.

“Mi vida. I like that,” the old man said with a chuckle. “I like it so much, in fact, it’s what I’ll call him. Can he talk?”

“I think he’s in shock. […] He’s very intelligent, mi patron.”

“Of course. He’s my clone.”

“Matt is to be treated with respect, just as though I were here in his place. He is to be educated, well fed, and entertained. He is not to be mistreated.” El Patrón looked directly at Tom, who flushed red. “Anyone—anyone—who harms Matt will be dealt with severely. Do I make myself clear?”

“I’ll tell you this: El Patrón has his good side and his bad side. […] When he was young, he made a choice, like a tree does when it decides to grow one way or the other. He grew large and green until he shadowed over the whole forest, but most of his branches are twisted.”

“The man we saw on the ground probably lagged behind the other workers and didn’t hear the foreman tell them to stop. He might have worked all night, getting thirstier and thirstier—”

“Stop!” shrilled Matt. He covered his ears. This was horrible! He didn’t want to know any more.

He threw himself into studying everything that came before him. Matt could name the planets, the brightest stars, and all the constellations. He memorized the names of countries, their capitals and chief exports.

He was in a rage to learn. He would excel, and then everyone would love him and forget he was a clone.

The senator didn’t know that María had kissed Matt on several occasions, just as she kissed Furball and anything else that pleased her. Matt knew this was different, though. He was humiliating her. If it had been Tom asking for the kiss, no one would have cared. People would have thought it cute for a boy to flirt with his novia.

Matt wasn’t a boy. He was a beast.

“It’s a boy,” whispered María.

It was. Only first Matt thought it was some kind of beast, so alien and terrible was its face. It had doughy, unhealthy skin and red hair that struck up in bristles…Worst of all was the terrible energy that rolled through the trapped body. The creature never stopped moving. It was as though invisible snakes were rippling beneath the skin and forcing its arms and legs to move in a ceaseless bid for freedom.

“Are there any others like me?” he asked.

“No. You’re the only one,” Celia said.

The only one! He was unique. He was special. Matt’s heart swelled with pride. If he wasn’t human, he might become something even better.

For the first time he realized what a terrible thing it was to be an eejit. He hadn’t known any of the others before their operation. They were simply there to do boring jobs. But Rosa had been a real, though cruel and violent, person. Now she was merely a shadow with the life sucked out of her.

“You don’t have a soul, so you can’t be baptized. All animals are like that. I think it’s unfair and sometimes I don’t believe it. After all, what would heaven be without birds or dogs or horses? And what about trees and flowers? They don’t have souls either. Does that mean heaven looks like a parking lot?”

It couldn’t be! Matt pressed his hands against his temples to keep the idea inside. If he didn’t think it, it wouldn’t be real.

But it slipped through his fingers anyway. MacGregor had created a clone so he could have transplants when he needed them. The thing in the hospital had every reason to howl! And what was the source of El Patrón’s fetal implants?

“He’s livestock,” Steven said with a cold smile. “The law is very clear. All clones are classified as livestock because they’re grown inside cows. Cows can’t give birth to humans.”

Equally, he couldn’t return to the mansion. The only way out was the border of Aztlán. You can do it, he imagined Tam Lin saying. I guess I have to, thought Matt, turning to look one last time at the quiet meadow, the white plumes of bear grass, and the black-throated sparrows flitting through the trees.

“Boys, boys, boys! Hasn’t anyone told you labor is shared equally among equals? If one person has to walk, everyone has to.”

“You’re not walking,” Matt pointed out.

“Some boys have to learn the hard way. They have to be broken and mended and broken again until they learn to do what they’re told. It may be simple, like sweeping a floor, but they do it eagerly to keep from being broken again. And they do it forever, for as long as they live.”

“In other words, you want to turn me into a zombie,” said Matt.

What could he do? Where could he go? He couldn’t stay here until Jorge came back to check up on things. But he couldn’t leave Chacho behind, either. He limped back to the basin and sat on the edge. He talked and talked, sometimes exhorting Chacho to come toward his voice, sometimes only rambling on about his childhood.

“How can anyone celebrate death?”

“Because it’s part of us,” Consuela said softly.

“Mi abuelita said I mustn’t be afraid of skeletons I carry my own around inside,” said Fidelito. “She told me to feel my ribs and make friends with them.”

“Your grandmother was very wise,” said Consuela.

“You can’t have two versions of the same person at the same time,” Esperanza went on. “One of them—the copy—has to be declared an unperson. But when the original dies, the copy takes his place.”

“Matt’s human?”

“He always was,” her mother replied. “The law is a wicked fiction to make it possible to use clones for transplants. But bad law or not, we’re going to use t now. If you survive the landing, Matt, I’ll do everything in my power to make you the new reigning drug lord. […] Only you must promise me that once you’re in control, you’ll destroy the opium empire.”

Tomorrow he would begin the task of breaking down the empire of Opium. It was a huge and terrifying job, but he wasn’t alone. He had Chacho, Fidelito, and Ton-Ton to cheer him on. He had Celia and Daft Donald to advise him and María to be everyone’s conscience.