Carlos was a mere nine years old when he began working in the diamond mines of Brazil seventeen years ago after he completed the mandatory three years of formal schooling. In that time, he’d seen diamonds in almost every color of the spectrum. Every day he moved tons of ore containing diamonds that chewed at the corners of his mind in the same way his pick chipped away the blue kimberlite where diamonds had formed thousands of years before hundreds of kilometers beneath the earth's surface in the hottest lava. Every slam of his pick was an angry blow at the white man who had enslaved and mistreated his ancestors making their lives a living hell.

He’d found black diamonds, white diamonds, yellow, pink, green, brown, and many colors in between. Of all the colors he found, blue was his favorite. It is the most rare of all diamonds, and the most valuable. Ever since he’d married Margarita seven years ago, he’d hoped to find a blue diamond that was worthy of her. His Margarita--brilliant, sparkling, effervescent Margarita--deserved something to parallel her beauty, and only the finest of Brazil's diamonds could come close.

Carlos never stopped dreaming of finding one even larger than the Hope diamond--and why not? Blue diamonds are formed in much hotter lava than that in which white diamonds are formed. If he did find such a diamond, how would he get it to the outside without being detected? Miners were searched every evening as they left for the day. And even if by some miracle he did manage to get it out how would he ever find someone to cut and polish it, and turn it into the valuable gem of his dreams? It’s stupid, even to consider it, he often told himself.

For almost all of those seventeen years it nagged at him. He would find a way. And if he didn’t find a blue diamond--no, he refused to think about that. He’d keep shoveling the ore until he did. Margarita was worth the risk. Even though he felt her own fiery beauty outshone any diamond he could ever find. She was his precious jewel, and for her, somehow he would pull it off.

Now, at last, he believed, that day had come. To find one diamond, a ton of ore must be removed and sifted through. He must have gone through at least three tons this morning when he noticed a glint just inches away from where his pick hacked. This morning's round of dynamite had partially uncovered it, but it still hung in the wall where it was barely discernable. He covered it over, and then moved gradually away from it.

It was the largest one he’d ever seen. He would go back when the others were not looking. Engrossed in that thought, he didn’t hear the blast of the noon whistle. He barely heard when Miguel called to him, "Come on Carlos put the pick down, it’s time for lunch."

"Nah, you go ahead, my friend," he urged, patting Miguel on the shoulder as he spoke. "Go ahead without me. I’m not hungry." Carlos used his shirtsleeve to wipe the sweat from his brow. "What’s the matter? Margarita forget to pack your lunch today?" Miguel, always good-natured, had a mischievous smile on his face.

"Just not hungry. Margarita made a breakfast fit for a king. I won’t need to eat again until supper," he lied. When Miguel was gone, Carlos turned his attention back to the blue kimberlite.

Today they were working only sixteen hundred feet below the surface, because water was seeping into the mine. Machinery bellowed continuously in a vain effort to keep it pumped out.

Carlos chipped angrily, remembering the stories his grandmother had told him, when he was a young boy. Her people had been forced into slavery when the colonial government made grants of large tracts of land to military officers and others in authority. Landowners were ‘gentlemen’ and gentlemen did not do physical labor. Indians, who had been in Brazil for thousands of years before the white man arrived, were given as slaves along with the fazendas, or plantations.

The old woman had told him that men and boys worked in the fields and in the mines, while women and girls tended animals, raised fruits and vegetables, and prepared food for their masters. She told him of his ancestors and their friends who died from cruel treatment and disease. They’d been forced to go to work in coffee fields and in the mines at the age of eight or nine years. She had told him of long, hard hours of work, of neglect, and torture at the hands of their masters.

She’d said, "When a slave became injured or sick medical care was slow in coming, if it came at all." Her words had made him sick to his stomach and he tried to put them out of his mind. But they came back relentlessly to taunt him as he worked in the mine. And so Carlos had been angry with the white man most of his life.

At first, Carlos worked in alluvial mines, where he sifted gravel from riverbeds to find diamonds that had been washed from the bowels of the earth over many centuries of erosion. He was sent to this mine when the kimberlite pipe was discovered deep underground.

He was glad that slavery had been abolished long ago. Even so, miners’ pay was still barely enough to get by on, making him feel that he, too, was a slave. True, the mine owners did treat him a little better than the white man had treated his ancestors--but only a little. So little, in fact, that Carlos felt justified in taking one large diamond that could be worth millions of dollars.

Some of the world’s largest and best gem quality diamonds were found in Brazil. Carlos had always known it was just a matter of time until he found his prize. That thought was what kept him going while he removed ton after ton of ore from the ground. It was backbreaking work. He would stop every few minutes to stretch his back muscles, and wipe the sweat from his brow. He was sure he’d moved at least three tons of ore this morning before he saw the glint in the wall. It was on the edge, just on the edge of the reach of that morning’s dynamite blast. No one had been working near him at the time of its discovery. The others had been toiling yards away, and he was sure they hadn’t seen the glint. He could hardly believe his good luck.

Carlos half-heartedly ripped at the debris that lay crumbled upon the ground until Miguel was out of sight, then he stood back turning his head this way and that, letting the light from his hat shine on the surface where he had been working. At the same time he opened his lunch box and took out a sandwich, devouring it quickly. He didn’t want to waste the little time he had before the others would come back.

Some large high-grade diamonds had been found in the area a few weeks before. Today was the first time they’d worked at this level since. Today’s blast had yielded an unusually large number of diamonds, mostly white, but he had seen some small blue ones, too.

When the sandwich was gone he reached down and took an apple from his lunch box. Before taking a bite of it, he stared at its glistening skin, which reminded him of Margarita’s luscious red lips. As he took another bite from the apple he shone his light on the spot where the glint had bounced out at him. Sure enough, a brilliant spark leapt from the dark wall, then disappeared again in the blink of an eye as he turned his head a little.

Carlos dropped the apple core into his lunch pail and snapped the lid shut.

Finding the shimmer of light again he reached for his pick and began hacking away the surrounding material. The clatter of machinery would conceal the noise of his pick from the others somewhere above him eating their lunch. Working feverishly, he mustered all his courage and strength and at last a huge brilliant rock tumbled onto the ledge at his feet. The kimberlite on one of its surfaces had been blown away and he could see that it was a brilliant blue and the largest diamond he had ever seen.

Feverishly, Carlos chipped as much as he could of the kimberlite away, exposing the diamond. It was almost as big as his fist. He wiped it on his shirtsleeve, and then stared at its brilliance. It was the most beautiful blue he had ever seen. This had to be it, the prize he had been wishing for all those years.

Carlos’ arms ached from the intense angry slashing he’d done for more than twenty minutes. He mopped the sweat from his brow with his shirtsleeve. He flexed his arms, and stretched his aching back, turning the stone this way and that. He peered at it thinking, if he could succeed in getting it out of the mine it would go a long way toward avenging the treatment of his ancestors. He brought the stone to his lips and kissed it, saying aloud, "Grandmother, this one is for you as well as for Margarita." He wished he could shout the news of his discovery to everyone, but knew he must keep it a secret.

He didn’t have time to rejoice in his discovery just now. He barely had time to find a hiding place as he heard loud guffaws of the others drawing near. Quickly, he shoved it back into the hole from which it had come smearing greasy lava dirt from his hands over it to hide its brilliance, and then he moved away to another area. He would come back later this evening when no one was paying attention.

The diamond nestled in its cradle for hours. It was almost all Carlos could do to keep his eyes from wandering to its hiding place. He wanted to make sure it was still there, that no one had gone near it unnoticed as he worked in the mine. He hoped he could find it again quickly. He hadn’t had time to mark the place, but he was reasonably sure he would recognize it. All he had to do now was sneak it out past the guard at the exit,and find a stonecutter whom he could trust. For that, he would have to leave Brazil.

He felt his heart pounding in his chest. One step at a time, he whispered to himself. Stay calm. Think clearly. Walk slowly. Don’t mess up now. The thought sent a chill through his body. He shivered, and then wiped the sweat from his face and neck.

His mouth was dry. His clothing was sopping with sweat. Carlos reached for his canteen of water. Just as he picked it up he saw Miguel’s boots walking toward him. Miguel’s lantern shone in Carlos’ face as he drank from the canteen. Water dribbled down his chin as he waited for Miguel to speak. But, Miguel walked on by heading toward the spot where the diamond was hidden.

Carlos felt his heart flutter in his chest. Miguel was getting too close. He must do something before it was too late. Miguel raised his pick and was about to start chiseling on the wall very near where the diamond was precariously resting.

"Miguel, it’s time to go home old friend. Are you going to stay all night in the mine?" Carlos spoke just in time.

On hearing Carlos, Miguel lowered the pick. Before he could speak the quitting whistle sounded. The two men gathered up their lunch pails and toolboxes and walked toward the exit. Carlos had no choice but to leave the diamond behind. He dared not let even his good friend, Miguel, know about it. As usual, Miguel and Carlos were the last ones out.

Carlos was pleased to see that Raphael was the guard at the exit this week. He was in luck he knew, for Raphael was not only a good friend, but also he had married Carlos’ sister. Now as they left the mine, Raphael waved them on through without searching their lunch pails. Carlos filed that knowledge in the back of his mind, and then mentally crossed himself, thanking his god for this stroke of good luck.

* * *

Carlos hummed a happy tune as he walked into the kitchen where Margarita was preparing supper. He picked her up easily in his two strong arms and whirled her around the room. "Margarita," he said, "my sweet Margarita, how would you like to go on a long vacation?" He whirled her around until she was dizzy and begged him to release her.

Margarita had come from the same background as Carlos and Miguel, but her parents had migrated to Texas several years ago. Alfonso was doing very well with his hardware store in Laredo. Carlos had taken Margarita to visit them once. That time they had flown from Belo Horizonte, Brazil to Mexico City, and then taken a tour bus the rest of the way. Carlos had wanted to see what it was like crossing the border into the United States.

He had found that it was fairly easy, just as some of his fellow miners had told him, because the bus company checked passports of its passengers. U.S. Customs officials, not wanting to delay the bus unnecessarily, accepted the driver’s word that all was in order and let them through with little delay.

"Oh, I would love to go to Laredo and see Mama and Papa, again. It’s been more than a year since we saw them last." Margarita’s deep brown eyes sparkled with laughter. She put her arms around Carlos to steady herself.

He swept her up in his arms and once more danced her around the room, laughing all the while. When she pleaded for him to stop, he gently placed her feet on the floor, and then tilted her chin up so that her lips met his.

"When?" Her voice was filled with excitement. Her face was radiant, her lips parted in a huge smile, showing pearly white teeth against her olive skin. Her warm body pressed close to his. Her long, shiny, black hair tickled his cheek.

"Soon. Next week. Can you be ready next Tuesday? We’ll take the plane to Mexico City like we did before." He danced her around the room once more, feeling the adrenaline flowing. He stopped in the middle of the room, holding her at arms length and gazed into her sparkling brown eyes. "I have much to do to get ready in just four days." She wrapped her arms around Carlos and snuggled close to him, then moving away from him she whirled herself around, her colorful skirt billowing, then returned to Carlos' arms looking happily up into his eyes.

Carlos bent his face down to hers in a long passionate kiss. She returned it with fervor crushing her body closer to his. Forgetting about his hunger, Carlos picked her up and carried her into the bedroom. Margarita unbuttoned his shirt as he placed her gently on the bed.

***

In the morning, Carlos went off to the mine, feeling anxious. Would the diamond still be where he had left it? Would he be able to sneak it past the guard in the evening?

In the mine Carlos toiled frenetically. Every chance he got when no one was near he would sneak a peek at the diamond's resting place. What if someone began chiseling in that area before he was able to retrieve it? He couldn’t bear the thoughts that entrenched themselves in his worried mind.

Carlos hacked away steadily all morning, chipping away with his pick. He knew he had removed several tons of debris by the time the noon whistle blew. Sweat poured from his brow all morning. His clothing was wet with sweat. When the noon whistle blew he again told Miguel, "I’m not hungry. Go on without me." Miguel looked at him quizzically, but said nothing. Carlos, not able to look him in the eye, turned his back and continued to work until he was sure Miguel and the other miners were out of sight.

When he was satisfied that all of the others were gone, Carlos went to the spot where the diamond waited. He removed it from its bed and wrapped it carefully in paper toweling, then stuffed it down into the empty shell of a thermos that he had brought for that purpose. Even with the lining removed from the wide mouth bottle in which Margarita usually packed hot soup, it was almost too small for the diamond. He felt sure that even if Raphael glanced into his lunch pail he would not open the thermos. He made sure it wouldn’t rattle. Then he ate the sandwich and fruit that Margarita had packed for him that morning.

It seemed quitting time would never come. At the sound of the whistle, Carlos gathered up his belongings and slowly walked toward the exit, all his senses screaming for him to act normal. Carlos felt his stomach tremble. His mouth was dry and he could hardly breathe. He was sure that anyone could see the diamond inside the thermos.

At the exit, Raphael patted him down then glanced into the lunch pail that Carlos held open, he way he always did. Seeing nothing amiss Raphael waved him on through, saying, "Maria and I will see you at church on Sunday, then we can go out to dinner afterwards." Carlos snapped the lunch box lid closed as he replied, "Sure Raphael, but you treated last. This time the treat is on me." Carlos began walking toward the parking lot.

He had gotten only a few yards away when he heard Raphael call, "Carlos! Come back!"

Carlos felt stricken with paralysis. He stopped dead still in his tracks. His legs wouldn’t move. What could Raphael want? Surely he didn’t suspect him of having the diamond. He willed his legs to move. But they wouldn’t.

"Carlos!" came Raphael’s voice, more urgent than before.

Carlos turned around and saw the mine’s owner standing beside Raphael. The white man was motioning furiously for Carlos to come back.

The diamond. He knows about the diamond. Carlos’ foot edged forward, the scent of death, his own, in his nostrils, then the other foot caught up, as if in a nightmare. Only, Carlos knew this was real. He’d been caught red-handed. He’d have to confess and beg for mercy. He licked his lips. He looked at Raphael, expecting the worst.

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