I wrote a book. OMG! I wrote a book. It isn't published......yet.....but maybe someday. For now it is enough that it is written. I am a writer. Giggle. Then I wrote a second book. It isn't quite in shape yet to send to an agent, but close. THEN I outlined a third book. OMG! I really am a writer.
My dream/goal is to get published. Hey.....if I put part of my book online and others read it, would that be considered being published? hmmmmm. Okay, the first 25 pages of WAKING UP are on my blog. There. I am a published author. I wonder if anyone will ever read my words....besides my family, who I hound until they do. It would be nice.
Will I ever get bold enough to send a query letter out? It is written, but I am having trouble with the 'summary'. I mean, what if I send out the query letter and they actually want a summary and the first 25 pages? I have to have the summary written before I send the query letter out.
Someone once said that you had nothing to fear but fear itself. I guess that makes me a coward.
GUT UP JAN!
Not today, Maybe tomorrow.
Tuesday, April 27, 2010
Saturday, April 24, 2010
Big Brothers.....and Sisters-in-law
My older brother, (I love saying that!) Dennis, and his wife Judy are in the US visiting relatives and have been staying with us for the last few days. I don't get to see them very often, they live on their big sailboat far, far away, presently in Thailand, and only get to the US every few years.
Now, I am getting to talk, and hug, and bug my big bro to my little hearts content. Everyone should be so lucky.
We have not always been close, but this last year we have gotten closer, maybe our ages are making us realize we don't have forever, I don't know, maybe he just likes me better now. :-) Anyway........it is a true joy to have them here. I feel like Judy is the sister I never had, I can say anything to her. She is easy and sweet and funny and my brother is a very lucky guy.
Well, not much else, haven't written lately, but will do lots more soon.
It is sunny and warm, life is very, VERY, good.
Now, I am getting to talk, and hug, and bug my big bro to my little hearts content. Everyone should be so lucky.
We have not always been close, but this last year we have gotten closer, maybe our ages are making us realize we don't have forever, I don't know, maybe he just likes me better now. :-) Anyway........it is a true joy to have them here. I feel like Judy is the sister I never had, I can say anything to her. She is easy and sweet and funny and my brother is a very lucky guy.
Well, not much else, haven't written lately, but will do lots more soon.
It is sunny and warm, life is very, VERY, good.
Wednesday, January 20, 2010
Part Seven - Pietro and Valencia
Click to go to part one of the story. "Run? We can't run. Where would we run to? Valencia that's just crazy talk. No, I will figure this out." Pietro's head lowered to his chest. Tears ran freely down his cheeks. He felt helpless and confused and terribly afraid of what would happen to him and his Valencia.
Valencia looked up at Pietro. She brushed his tears away with her hand. Pietro looked into her beautiful face. He saw love and understanding in her eyes. He wished he had never met her. At least then she would not be in danger. Pietro knew that the coyote would not hesitate to take his revenge on Valencia. Maybe she was right. Maybe they would have to run. He had nine hundred dollars and his truck. Thoughts swirled in his head, but no answers came.
"Pietro. Pietro, listen to me. I know this is bad. The coyote will hurt us both if he catches us. We can't stay here. And neither of us can go home. We must leave. NOW! We can go to my cousins house. She lives in the mountains about 30 miles west of here. I don't think the coyote will find us there, but we will have to be very careful." Valencia moved away from Pietro and began to pace around the truck. Pietro watched her and his heart swelled with love and longing for this woman who was willing to give up her family, friends, everything for him.
"Get in the truck Valencia. We have no more time to think, we must go."
Valencia climbed into the old truck. Pietro started the engine and looked at the fuel gauge. The new owner of the truck must have filled the tank. The first piece of good luck. Pietro headed the truck west, the least used road out of their little village. He drove fast, but carefully, he didn't know how the truck would handle the bumpy dirt road and they needed the truck.
Neither Pietro or Valencia talked for a little while. Both thinking what this would mean in their young lives, how much would change.
After a little while,, Valencia told Pietro he would have to turn off the road soon, her cousin lived in the mountains on a road that was little used by anyone but her cousin. There, she said pointing to a grouping of scrubby trees. The turnoff is just past those trees. Pietro turned onto the road, more of a rutted dirt track. He had to slow the truck to almost a crawl. Dust rose behind them. He slowed more, until there was no more dust. It seemed forever until they came to a small clearing with a small house made of old boards and pieces of tin that looked like they were scavenged from a dump. Pietro didn't care, he was just glad they had finally reached the place.
Valencia put her hand on Pietro's arm.
"It will be okay, Pietro, my cousin will help us. She is very wise." Pietro stopped the truck, Valencia reached for the door handle and stepped outside. She waited for Pietro to join her and they walked together towards the house. They hadn't gotten very far when a raspy voice called out to them.
"I have a gun and I will use it. Get back in your truck and get the hell out of here. This is my property and no one is welcome here."
The young couple stopped. Valencia looked up at Pietro, then at the house.
"Estrella, it is me, Valencia, your cousin. Remember? This is my friend, Pietro, we need your help." For a few minutes there was only silence. Then slowly, a suntanned leathery skinned woman stepped out of the shadows of the porch, a rifle in her arms.
"Valencia. Of course I remember you. Your family has been so good to me and who could forget such a pretty face. You and your friend may come in." The woman waited for them and as they got closer, she stared hard a Valencia and her young man. Then she turned and walked into the house. Pietro and Valencia followed her and soon they were seated at a rough table in the middle of a small room. Pietro looked around. It was a poor place, but clean. He looked at Estrella. She looked hard and old, but Pietro didn't think she was much older than Valencia.
Estrella put the gun down on the floor.
"Someone is chasing you, aren't they?" she asked. "I am glad you came here. I will help you. I know these mountains better than anyone."
Pietro asked, "better than the coyote?"
Estrella seemed to draw into herself.
"What is your name, young man? And why is the coyote after you?"
Valencia and Pietro talked about the past few days, Valencia even told Estrella that she might be pregnant. They left nothing out. When they were done both felt relieved, like they had handed their problems to someone else. It was partially true, Estrella was very wise. She had lived in the mountains with her Father most of her life. Her Mother, Valencia's Aunt, had died in childbirth when Estrellas' younger brother was born. Her Father was so crushed he could not handle life, so he took his daughter and baby boy and disappeared into the mountains. No one knew how he had managed to raise the two young children. And no one had even known where they were until Estrella's Father had brought her and her brother into the village and to the priest when Estrella was 12, her brother 9. The years had not been good to him and he knew he was sick and near death. He had brought his children to the priest in hopes that the church would care for them. He had not shared his plans with his children. Estrella would have been horrified.
When they were inside the darkened church they found the priest kneeling in the front pew. He turned and looked at the man and the two young children. He saw the dispair in Estrella's Fathers' face.
"How can I help you?" He asked.
Estrella's Father told his children to sit in the pew and wait for him. He motioned to the priest to move away from them. When they were far enough that he didn't think they could be heard he told the priest that he was dying and that he had no one to care for his children. He did not feel he could burden his dead wifes' sister. The priest nodded. This was a common story in the village, death was nearer here than in the cities.
"There is a school that your son could go to", the priest said. "He would be taught to love God and learn how to serve him. If it is his calling he could become a man of God. Would that be acceptable?"
Estrellas Father nodded. His son was a quiet boy. This might be very good for him. But what about his daughter? Did the priest have a place for her?
The priest didn't but he would not tell that to this poor and tired man. "Yes. I am in need of a housekeeper here. If your daughter is willing she could live here and would even get a small wage. It is not much, but she would not starve and she would get to meet many people."
Estrella's Father turned and looked at his daughter. She looked small and vulnerable, but he knew she was not. She was strong and proud and capable. She could do this. If she would. He told the priest he would speak with his children.
Estrella had watched her Father and the priest talking. She knew they were talking about her and her brother. She didn't understand why, although she suspected her Father was very ill, she had seen him throwing up in the bushes behind the house and had seen him wipe away the blood from his mouth. But she had not let herself think about what that meant.
When her Father and the priest finished talking and walked towards them, Estrella noticed that her Father seemed to have shrunk. His shoulders were slumped and his back curved. His face was grayer than she had ever seen it. She stood up in fear.
Estrella's Father told his children what he and the priest had talked about. He also told them that he was dying. His son cried and hugged his fathers legs, kneeling on the wood floor, unable to accept what he had been told. Estrella did not cry. She was angry. Not only had her Father not told her how ill he was, but now he had made decisions for her that she would hate. Estrella opened her mouth to tell her Father how she felt, but stopped herself. It would do her Father no good to hear her fears. She would deal with the situation later.
The priest led them all to the small rooms that he lived in behind the church. He fed them soup and bread and explained in detail the school for Estrellas' brother and what would be expected of Estrella. Her brother cried but he agreed to go to the school. He loved God and felt a closeness to him that was unusual for someone so young. Estrella was quiet. Her Father began coughing again, this time he did not have time to go outside and the blood, with it's smell of iron, spilled down his chin and onto his shirt. He tried to wipe it away with a rag from his pocket, but it was too late, they had all seen. The priest put him to bed in the small room that eventually would be Estrellas'. Estrella and her brother slept in the front room on blankets on the floor.
Estrellas' Father died four days later. The priest left Estrella at the house while he took her brother to the school. He told her he would be gone overnight and gave her instructions about what she was to do while he was gone. He was not unkind, but Estrella could hardly wait until he left to leave herself. She would not stay and keep his house, she was going back to the only place that was home to her, the mountains. She took some cheese and bread and a jug of water and began the long trek home. It took her all day and late into the night before she reached the house.
No one came to look for her.
She managed to care for the small garden and the goat that wandered around the yard. She hunted, thankful that her Father had taught her how to use the rifle that hung over the fireplace. She saw no one for over two years, when she had no more bullets for the gun and decided she would have to go into the village. Her clothes did not fit properly, but she was clean. She took the money that her Father had kept in a tin can behind a stone in the fireplace. She had watched him put it there and wondered why he had not taken it with him when they left to see the priest. She wondered if somehow he knew that she would come back here.
She picked the very best of her vegetables and gathered the few clothes that her Father had left. She would sell the food and clothing. She would buy more bullets and maybe some cloth to make herself more clothing. The walk into town was not hard on her, she was very fit. When she had sold her vegetables at the market and her fathers old clothes, she had gone into the tienda. She bought bullets and a partial bolt of a blue fabric, some candles, and a new pair of boots. Her mouth drooled at the candy and she decided there was enough money left for a small treat. While she was picking out the candy, Valencia's Mother came into the store. She looked at the scruffy young girl and saw the same face that was her sister's.
"Estrella?" She asked. "Is it really you? I heard about your Father and the priest talked about how you ran away. We tried to find you, but no one knew where you had gone. We feared you were dead."
Estrella stood frozen. What should she do? Run? Then her Aunt touched her arm and smiled at her.
"Come home with me and share our supper. I want you to meet my family. It will be a good thing." Estrella felt like her heart would stop. She was torn. This women was so kind, it was so tempting. To sit and eat with a family, her relatives. She looked down at her clothes, they seemed so shabby compared to her Aunts. "I...... " she stopped, "I...... "
"Don't worry Estrella, you are fine. Now come with me, you'll see, it will be okay."
Estrellea gathered her possessions and followed the woman out of the store and down the dusty streets to a house surrounded by an iron fence. This was not a poor house, not a rich house either, but it was obvious to Estrella that it was a comfortable place.
She met her uncle and her two cousins, the girl, Valencia was beautiful. Her hair was curled softly around her face and her skin looked soft, very unlike Estrella's. Valencia was a few years younger then Estrella, but they were close to the same size. She was invited to Valencia's room and her cousin pulled some clothing from behind a curtain where many dresses hung. Estrella had never seen such lovely things. Valencia was generous with her belongings and insisted that Estrella try on everything and gave her many of her clothes.
When Estrella hesitated to accept the things, Valencia told her that her Father would buy her more dresses and she really wanted Estrella to have the things.
They ate at a large table in the main room of the house, the food better than any Estrella had eaten. But she was not comfortable. This was a life she was not prepared for. Everything was unfamiliar. She wanted to go home. Her Aunt tried to get her to stay with them. She told Estrella that she was welcome to come and live with them, but she accepted that Estrella was different from other people. She told her that she should stay the night and her husband would drive Estrella home in the morning. Estrella agreed.
The next morning her uncle drove the long route to Estrellas, house. Valencia rode along with them. It did not take very long, at least, not compared to how long it took to walk from the village to her house. She wished she had a car like her uncle. It would make her life a little easier. Valencia and her Father walked around the small house, amazed at the things Estrellas' Father had built. They examined the inside and complimented Estrella on how clean and neat everything was. Not that there was much there. A table and three chairs, well made, but rustic. There was the fireplace made of stone with two iron pots hanging from an iron rod. In one corner of the room there was a bed curtained off. There were several hooks for hanging clothes, but what hung there was old and very worn. Valencia was glad she had given Estrella so many new things, she had so little. Estrellas Uncle was impressed that the garden was growing so well and told Estrella she could make money selling her vegetables at the market. And he told her the goats milk could be made into cheese and explained the process. They spent most of the day helping Estrella with projects and teaching her new skills. It was hard when they left. Estrella cried. She had not known how much she missed talking, laughing with others. After a while she stopped her crying and thought about her life in the mountains. She had choices now, she could move to the village and live with her Aunt, but this was her home. She was at ease here. She loved the mountains and felt good about her hunting and gardening skills. She would make the garden bigger and grow more vegetables. She would try to make the goat cheese. Then she could go to the village and sell her products and she could visit her Aunt and her family. That would make life better. She once again wished for a car or a truck like her Uncles. When she finally fell asleep, she was content.
Estrella's life went on much the same as before, she did learn to make the goat cheese and enlarged her garden. She made good money when she went to market and she visited her Aunt, but going to town very often was not possible, it was too far.
When Estrella was 18 her Uncle arrived at her little house in the mountains with a battered old jeep. He told Estrella it was hers. He had bought it very cheap, he said, and fixed it up so now it ran good. He also brought her a barrell of gas and showed her how to fill the tank. He gave her lessons and she quickly learned how to shift the gears. When he left she drove the jeep up and down the road to practice. It was not many weeks before she was confident in her ability to drive her most prized possession. Now she went to the village more often, but she did not mix with any of the villagers except her Aunt and her family. And she told no one where she lived. She liked being by herself. Over the years she explored most of the mountain, even the other villages. she was completely at home living her solitary life.
When Valencia and Pietro arrived Estrella was 22 years old. At first she was shocked and scared at their arrival. A few others had straggled up the road, but she had always scared them away with her rifle. When she recognized Valencia and heard their story she knew that her years of living in the mountains had given her skills that would help her cousin and her friend escape the coyotes greed. She told Pietro to drive his truck behind the house, she would move further away it later. She prepared a meal for them and after they had eaten she told them to stay in the house, she had a few things to do. She loaded a few supplies in the jeep and drove the long rutted track down to where it joined the main road. She took out the bushy branch she had brought and brushed the dirt until there were no more tracks. She drug a large broken branch partially onto the road and rolled two good sized boulders alongside. It now looked like the small track was unused. As she walked back to where she had left her jeep, she threw a few more branches and rocks along the road. She was pleased. It was almost dark by the time she got back to the house. She insisted that Valencia and Pietro sleep in her bed, she would sleep on a pallet on the floor that once was the bed she and her brother had slept on. After protesting unsuccessfully, Valencia and Pietro went to sleep in the bed, exhausted but relieved.
Estrella thought about what they should do and where they could go. She felt sad that they would not see their families for a long time, maybe never, but at least they had each other. She felt good that she could help part of the family that had helped her so much. In the darkness of the small room a smile settled on her face. She had no trouble falling asleep.
Valencia looked up at Pietro. She brushed his tears away with her hand. Pietro looked into her beautiful face. He saw love and understanding in her eyes. He wished he had never met her. At least then she would not be in danger. Pietro knew that the coyote would not hesitate to take his revenge on Valencia. Maybe she was right. Maybe they would have to run. He had nine hundred dollars and his truck. Thoughts swirled in his head, but no answers came.
"Pietro. Pietro, listen to me. I know this is bad. The coyote will hurt us both if he catches us. We can't stay here. And neither of us can go home. We must leave. NOW! We can go to my cousins house. She lives in the mountains about 30 miles west of here. I don't think the coyote will find us there, but we will have to be very careful." Valencia moved away from Pietro and began to pace around the truck. Pietro watched her and his heart swelled with love and longing for this woman who was willing to give up her family, friends, everything for him.
"Get in the truck Valencia. We have no more time to think, we must go."
Valencia climbed into the old truck. Pietro started the engine and looked at the fuel gauge. The new owner of the truck must have filled the tank. The first piece of good luck. Pietro headed the truck west, the least used road out of their little village. He drove fast, but carefully, he didn't know how the truck would handle the bumpy dirt road and they needed the truck.
Neither Pietro or Valencia talked for a little while. Both thinking what this would mean in their young lives, how much would change.
After a little while,, Valencia told Pietro he would have to turn off the road soon, her cousin lived in the mountains on a road that was little used by anyone but her cousin. There, she said pointing to a grouping of scrubby trees. The turnoff is just past those trees. Pietro turned onto the road, more of a rutted dirt track. He had to slow the truck to almost a crawl. Dust rose behind them. He slowed more, until there was no more dust. It seemed forever until they came to a small clearing with a small house made of old boards and pieces of tin that looked like they were scavenged from a dump. Pietro didn't care, he was just glad they had finally reached the place.
Valencia put her hand on Pietro's arm.
"It will be okay, Pietro, my cousin will help us. She is very wise." Pietro stopped the truck, Valencia reached for the door handle and stepped outside. She waited for Pietro to join her and they walked together towards the house. They hadn't gotten very far when a raspy voice called out to them.
"I have a gun and I will use it. Get back in your truck and get the hell out of here. This is my property and no one is welcome here."
The young couple stopped. Valencia looked up at Pietro, then at the house.
"Estrella, it is me, Valencia, your cousin. Remember? This is my friend, Pietro, we need your help." For a few minutes there was only silence. Then slowly, a suntanned leathery skinned woman stepped out of the shadows of the porch, a rifle in her arms.
"Valencia. Of course I remember you. Your family has been so good to me and who could forget such a pretty face. You and your friend may come in." The woman waited for them and as they got closer, she stared hard a Valencia and her young man. Then she turned and walked into the house. Pietro and Valencia followed her and soon they were seated at a rough table in the middle of a small room. Pietro looked around. It was a poor place, but clean. He looked at Estrella. She looked hard and old, but Pietro didn't think she was much older than Valencia.
Estrella put the gun down on the floor.
"Someone is chasing you, aren't they?" she asked. "I am glad you came here. I will help you. I know these mountains better than anyone."
Pietro asked, "better than the coyote?"
Estrella seemed to draw into herself.
"What is your name, young man? And why is the coyote after you?"
Valencia and Pietro talked about the past few days, Valencia even told Estrella that she might be pregnant. They left nothing out. When they were done both felt relieved, like they had handed their problems to someone else. It was partially true, Estrella was very wise. She had lived in the mountains with her Father most of her life. Her Mother, Valencia's Aunt, had died in childbirth when Estrellas' younger brother was born. Her Father was so crushed he could not handle life, so he took his daughter and baby boy and disappeared into the mountains. No one knew how he had managed to raise the two young children. And no one had even known where they were until Estrella's Father had brought her and her brother into the village and to the priest when Estrella was 12, her brother 9. The years had not been good to him and he knew he was sick and near death. He had brought his children to the priest in hopes that the church would care for them. He had not shared his plans with his children. Estrella would have been horrified.
When they were inside the darkened church they found the priest kneeling in the front pew. He turned and looked at the man and the two young children. He saw the dispair in Estrella's Fathers' face.
"How can I help you?" He asked.
Estrella's Father told his children to sit in the pew and wait for him. He motioned to the priest to move away from them. When they were far enough that he didn't think they could be heard he told the priest that he was dying and that he had no one to care for his children. He did not feel he could burden his dead wifes' sister. The priest nodded. This was a common story in the village, death was nearer here than in the cities.
"There is a school that your son could go to", the priest said. "He would be taught to love God and learn how to serve him. If it is his calling he could become a man of God. Would that be acceptable?"
Estrellas Father nodded. His son was a quiet boy. This might be very good for him. But what about his daughter? Did the priest have a place for her?
The priest didn't but he would not tell that to this poor and tired man. "Yes. I am in need of a housekeeper here. If your daughter is willing she could live here and would even get a small wage. It is not much, but she would not starve and she would get to meet many people."
Estrella's Father turned and looked at his daughter. She looked small and vulnerable, but he knew she was not. She was strong and proud and capable. She could do this. If she would. He told the priest he would speak with his children.
Estrella had watched her Father and the priest talking. She knew they were talking about her and her brother. She didn't understand why, although she suspected her Father was very ill, she had seen him throwing up in the bushes behind the house and had seen him wipe away the blood from his mouth. But she had not let herself think about what that meant.
When her Father and the priest finished talking and walked towards them, Estrella noticed that her Father seemed to have shrunk. His shoulders were slumped and his back curved. His face was grayer than she had ever seen it. She stood up in fear.
Estrella's Father told his children what he and the priest had talked about. He also told them that he was dying. His son cried and hugged his fathers legs, kneeling on the wood floor, unable to accept what he had been told. Estrella did not cry. She was angry. Not only had her Father not told her how ill he was, but now he had made decisions for her that she would hate. Estrella opened her mouth to tell her Father how she felt, but stopped herself. It would do her Father no good to hear her fears. She would deal with the situation later.
The priest led them all to the small rooms that he lived in behind the church. He fed them soup and bread and explained in detail the school for Estrellas' brother and what would be expected of Estrella. Her brother cried but he agreed to go to the school. He loved God and felt a closeness to him that was unusual for someone so young. Estrella was quiet. Her Father began coughing again, this time he did not have time to go outside and the blood, with it's smell of iron, spilled down his chin and onto his shirt. He tried to wipe it away with a rag from his pocket, but it was too late, they had all seen. The priest put him to bed in the small room that eventually would be Estrellas'. Estrella and her brother slept in the front room on blankets on the floor.
Estrellas' Father died four days later. The priest left Estrella at the house while he took her brother to the school. He told her he would be gone overnight and gave her instructions about what she was to do while he was gone. He was not unkind, but Estrella could hardly wait until he left to leave herself. She would not stay and keep his house, she was going back to the only place that was home to her, the mountains. She took some cheese and bread and a jug of water and began the long trek home. It took her all day and late into the night before she reached the house.
No one came to look for her.
She managed to care for the small garden and the goat that wandered around the yard. She hunted, thankful that her Father had taught her how to use the rifle that hung over the fireplace. She saw no one for over two years, when she had no more bullets for the gun and decided she would have to go into the village. Her clothes did not fit properly, but she was clean. She took the money that her Father had kept in a tin can behind a stone in the fireplace. She had watched him put it there and wondered why he had not taken it with him when they left to see the priest. She wondered if somehow he knew that she would come back here.
She picked the very best of her vegetables and gathered the few clothes that her Father had left. She would sell the food and clothing. She would buy more bullets and maybe some cloth to make herself more clothing. The walk into town was not hard on her, she was very fit. When she had sold her vegetables at the market and her fathers old clothes, she had gone into the tienda. She bought bullets and a partial bolt of a blue fabric, some candles, and a new pair of boots. Her mouth drooled at the candy and she decided there was enough money left for a small treat. While she was picking out the candy, Valencia's Mother came into the store. She looked at the scruffy young girl and saw the same face that was her sister's.
"Estrella?" She asked. "Is it really you? I heard about your Father and the priest talked about how you ran away. We tried to find you, but no one knew where you had gone. We feared you were dead."
Estrella stood frozen. What should she do? Run? Then her Aunt touched her arm and smiled at her.
"Come home with me and share our supper. I want you to meet my family. It will be a good thing." Estrella felt like her heart would stop. She was torn. This women was so kind, it was so tempting. To sit and eat with a family, her relatives. She looked down at her clothes, they seemed so shabby compared to her Aunts. "I...... " she stopped, "I...... "
"Don't worry Estrella, you are fine. Now come with me, you'll see, it will be okay."
Estrellea gathered her possessions and followed the woman out of the store and down the dusty streets to a house surrounded by an iron fence. This was not a poor house, not a rich house either, but it was obvious to Estrella that it was a comfortable place.
She met her uncle and her two cousins, the girl, Valencia was beautiful. Her hair was curled softly around her face and her skin looked soft, very unlike Estrella's. Valencia was a few years younger then Estrella, but they were close to the same size. She was invited to Valencia's room and her cousin pulled some clothing from behind a curtain where many dresses hung. Estrella had never seen such lovely things. Valencia was generous with her belongings and insisted that Estrella try on everything and gave her many of her clothes.
When Estrella hesitated to accept the things, Valencia told her that her Father would buy her more dresses and she really wanted Estrella to have the things.
They ate at a large table in the main room of the house, the food better than any Estrella had eaten. But she was not comfortable. This was a life she was not prepared for. Everything was unfamiliar. She wanted to go home. Her Aunt tried to get her to stay with them. She told Estrella that she was welcome to come and live with them, but she accepted that Estrella was different from other people. She told her that she should stay the night and her husband would drive Estrella home in the morning. Estrella agreed.
The next morning her uncle drove the long route to Estrellas, house. Valencia rode along with them. It did not take very long, at least, not compared to how long it took to walk from the village to her house. She wished she had a car like her uncle. It would make her life a little easier. Valencia and her Father walked around the small house, amazed at the things Estrellas' Father had built. They examined the inside and complimented Estrella on how clean and neat everything was. Not that there was much there. A table and three chairs, well made, but rustic. There was the fireplace made of stone with two iron pots hanging from an iron rod. In one corner of the room there was a bed curtained off. There were several hooks for hanging clothes, but what hung there was old and very worn. Valencia was glad she had given Estrella so many new things, she had so little. Estrellas Uncle was impressed that the garden was growing so well and told Estrella she could make money selling her vegetables at the market. And he told her the goats milk could be made into cheese and explained the process. They spent most of the day helping Estrella with projects and teaching her new skills. It was hard when they left. Estrella cried. She had not known how much she missed talking, laughing with others. After a while she stopped her crying and thought about her life in the mountains. She had choices now, she could move to the village and live with her Aunt, but this was her home. She was at ease here. She loved the mountains and felt good about her hunting and gardening skills. She would make the garden bigger and grow more vegetables. She would try to make the goat cheese. Then she could go to the village and sell her products and she could visit her Aunt and her family. That would make life better. She once again wished for a car or a truck like her Uncles. When she finally fell asleep, she was content.
Estrella's life went on much the same as before, she did learn to make the goat cheese and enlarged her garden. She made good money when she went to market and she visited her Aunt, but going to town very often was not possible, it was too far.
When Estrella was 18 her Uncle arrived at her little house in the mountains with a battered old jeep. He told Estrella it was hers. He had bought it very cheap, he said, and fixed it up so now it ran good. He also brought her a barrell of gas and showed her how to fill the tank. He gave her lessons and she quickly learned how to shift the gears. When he left she drove the jeep up and down the road to practice. It was not many weeks before she was confident in her ability to drive her most prized possession. Now she went to the village more often, but she did not mix with any of the villagers except her Aunt and her family. And she told no one where she lived. She liked being by herself. Over the years she explored most of the mountain, even the other villages. she was completely at home living her solitary life.
When Valencia and Pietro arrived Estrella was 22 years old. At first she was shocked and scared at their arrival. A few others had straggled up the road, but she had always scared them away with her rifle. When she recognized Valencia and heard their story she knew that her years of living in the mountains had given her skills that would help her cousin and her friend escape the coyotes greed. She told Pietro to drive his truck behind the house, she would move further away it later. She prepared a meal for them and after they had eaten she told them to stay in the house, she had a few things to do. She loaded a few supplies in the jeep and drove the long rutted track down to where it joined the main road. She took out the bushy branch she had brought and brushed the dirt until there were no more tracks. She drug a large broken branch partially onto the road and rolled two good sized boulders alongside. It now looked like the small track was unused. As she walked back to where she had left her jeep, she threw a few more branches and rocks along the road. She was pleased. It was almost dark by the time she got back to the house. She insisted that Valencia and Pietro sleep in her bed, she would sleep on a pallet on the floor that once was the bed she and her brother had slept on. After protesting unsuccessfully, Valencia and Pietro went to sleep in the bed, exhausted but relieved.
Estrella thought about what they should do and where they could go. She felt sad that they would not see their families for a long time, maybe never, but at least they had each other. She felt good that she could help part of the family that had helped her so much. In the darkness of the small room a smile settled on her face. She had no trouble falling asleep.
Wednesday, January 13, 2010
Part Six, Pietro and Valencia
click to go to part one Valencia woke before light and arose from the bed. She turned to Pietro, still sleeping. She said quietly, “You have much on your mind, mi mano; I know how long you tossed and turned last night. Well, sleep now my love. I will be with you again soon.”
She left Pietro’s home.
When Pietro awoke panic swept over him but it was not Valencia’s absence that panicked him, it was the coyote. “What was I thinking? The church cannot help me, the coyote will kill me!”
He had not told Valencia everything. He owed the coyote the remainder of the $2000, after the $500 he gave him yesterday. And his pickup was gone, the money for that, $700, and the $200. he had not given the Coyote, was in the pocket of his jeans. He’d agreed to be a mule for part of the balance. He had to get out of this deal. Last night he and Valencia made a pact, even if neither of them spoke it: they would face the future, whatever it was, together. Now he could not go north alone. Jesus Madre, what a fix!
________________________________________
Pietro stood in the open doorway of the little shack on the corner of the used car lot. His truck was not parked where he left it yesterday on the side of the lot.
“Manuel, I cannot sell the truck. I need it. Here is your money.”
He held out the $700.
The fat albino Mexican looked up from his desk.
“Sheet Pietro, the truck is already sold. Anyhow, you can’t get out now. Get the money over to el Diablo; he’s looking for you.”
“But… But, I did not tell you about the coyote. How do you know?”
“Pietro, don’t be a fucking fool. I know about it all, the drugs you are going to take north, everything. Everyone knows except you and your little puta. Now be a man and get the money to el Diablo today and maybe he will simply ship you north and let you live. You don’t fuck with el Diablo.”
Pietro stood there for a moment longer. What was happening to him? He had only talked to the coyote two days before, and given him the deposit, and the coyote told him he would give him a packet to carry and the money would be less and Pietro was to leave last night, now Manuel said the coyote was looking for him. OK, he was supposed to bring the balance yesterday and he didn’t. In fact he didn’t even have it all yet, but surely the coyote would understand his predicament.
Manuel was not paying any attention to Pietro. He was talking on his phone.
Pietro turned and walked away, despair filling his heart.
At the corner he saw his truck. It was parked behind the panadería. We walked up to the truck, unsure of what he should do next. He had a spare key in his wallet. He took it out and unlocked the door. Nobody was on the street. He opened the door and jumped in. He kicked the throttle once and turned the key. The old Chevy V-8 started and Pietro yanked the gear shift into drive and floored the truck. The back door of the bakery flew open and a grey haired man ran out.
“Los Bastardo! Stop. Fuck!” The man threw his hat into the street as Pietro tore around the corner, dirt flying from the pickup’s rear wheels.
Pietro’s heart was pounding. He looked in the rear view mirror. What was he doing? Now he’d have the coyote and Manuel and whomever that man was all looking for him. He drove like a madman straight to Valencia’s house.
Valencia was standing on the porch with her mother when Pietro’s truck slid to a stop in front of her house. They had been talking.
Pietro was stopped at the gate. The dust from his truck swirled about him and settled. The world seemed to stop as Pietro stared from the shade of the cab of his pickup at the two women on the porch. The two women looked dumbfounded back at him.
Valencia turned back to her mother and the two of them looked into each other’s eyes for a moment. Valencia’s mother put her hand on Valencia's arm and reached into her apron pocket. She pulled out a small roll of bills, handed them to Valencia and gave a little nod. Valencia's hand closed around the money, tears falling from her eyes. She quickly hugged this woman who had given her everything her entire life, then she spun and ran towards the truck. She flew out of the gate and yanked open the door of the truck.
“Pietro, what is going on?” She landed on the seat and pulled the door shut just as Pietro hit the gas and the truck swerved back onto the street.
As he drove at high speed through town toward the highway Pietro told Valencia everything. The money, the truck, the drug deal he had agreed to with the coyote and was about to break. It didn’t take long. Valencia listened without so much as a word. By the time Pietro had stopped talking she had turned in her seat and was facing him, searching his face for an answer to this unanticipated turn of events.
“We have to run” she said.
Click here to go to part seven.
She left Pietro’s home.
When Pietro awoke panic swept over him but it was not Valencia’s absence that panicked him, it was the coyote. “What was I thinking? The church cannot help me, the coyote will kill me!”
He had not told Valencia everything. He owed the coyote the remainder of the $2000, after the $500 he gave him yesterday. And his pickup was gone, the money for that, $700, and the $200. he had not given the Coyote, was in the pocket of his jeans. He’d agreed to be a mule for part of the balance. He had to get out of this deal. Last night he and Valencia made a pact, even if neither of them spoke it: they would face the future, whatever it was, together. Now he could not go north alone. Jesus Madre, what a fix!
________________________________________
Pietro stood in the open doorway of the little shack on the corner of the used car lot. His truck was not parked where he left it yesterday on the side of the lot.
“Manuel, I cannot sell the truck. I need it. Here is your money.”
He held out the $700.
The fat albino Mexican looked up from his desk.
“Sheet Pietro, the truck is already sold. Anyhow, you can’t get out now. Get the money over to el Diablo; he’s looking for you.”
“But… But, I did not tell you about the coyote. How do you know?”
“Pietro, don’t be a fucking fool. I know about it all, the drugs you are going to take north, everything. Everyone knows except you and your little puta. Now be a man and get the money to el Diablo today and maybe he will simply ship you north and let you live. You don’t fuck with el Diablo.”
Pietro stood there for a moment longer. What was happening to him? He had only talked to the coyote two days before, and given him the deposit, and the coyote told him he would give him a packet to carry and the money would be less and Pietro was to leave last night, now Manuel said the coyote was looking for him. OK, he was supposed to bring the balance yesterday and he didn’t. In fact he didn’t even have it all yet, but surely the coyote would understand his predicament.
Manuel was not paying any attention to Pietro. He was talking on his phone.
Pietro turned and walked away, despair filling his heart.
At the corner he saw his truck. It was parked behind the panadería. We walked up to the truck, unsure of what he should do next. He had a spare key in his wallet. He took it out and unlocked the door. Nobody was on the street. He opened the door and jumped in. He kicked the throttle once and turned the key. The old Chevy V-8 started and Pietro yanked the gear shift into drive and floored the truck. The back door of the bakery flew open and a grey haired man ran out.
“Los Bastardo! Stop. Fuck!” The man threw his hat into the street as Pietro tore around the corner, dirt flying from the pickup’s rear wheels.
Pietro’s heart was pounding. He looked in the rear view mirror. What was he doing? Now he’d have the coyote and Manuel and whomever that man was all looking for him. He drove like a madman straight to Valencia’s house.
Valencia was standing on the porch with her mother when Pietro’s truck slid to a stop in front of her house. They had been talking.
Pietro was stopped at the gate. The dust from his truck swirled about him and settled. The world seemed to stop as Pietro stared from the shade of the cab of his pickup at the two women on the porch. The two women looked dumbfounded back at him.
Valencia turned back to her mother and the two of them looked into each other’s eyes for a moment. Valencia’s mother put her hand on Valencia's arm and reached into her apron pocket. She pulled out a small roll of bills, handed them to Valencia and gave a little nod. Valencia's hand closed around the money, tears falling from her eyes. She quickly hugged this woman who had given her everything her entire life, then she spun and ran towards the truck. She flew out of the gate and yanked open the door of the truck.
“Pietro, what is going on?” She landed on the seat and pulled the door shut just as Pietro hit the gas and the truck swerved back onto the street.
As he drove at high speed through town toward the highway Pietro told Valencia everything. The money, the truck, the drug deal he had agreed to with the coyote and was about to break. It didn’t take long. Valencia listened without so much as a word. By the time Pietro had stopped talking she had turned in her seat and was facing him, searching his face for an answer to this unanticipated turn of events.
“We have to run” she said.
Click here to go to part seven.
Thursday, December 17, 2009
Part five - Pietro and Valencia
Valencia held her head in her hands, tears falling from her eyes. Her Mother moved close and put her arms around her daughter. "Don't worry, I will help you my daughter. We will make Pietro do the right thing and we will make your Father accept Pietro."
Valencia stopped crying and looked up at her Mother, moving out of her Mother's embrace. "No, Mother, we will not 'make' Pietro or my Father do anything. If......if I am pregnant with Pietro's child, he will not need to be made to do the right thing. He loves me. And Mother? I will speak to my Father with Pietro, if it is necessary. I do not want you to do it. This is my doing and I will handle it in my own way. Promise me you will honor my wishes?"
Valencia's Mother looked deeply into her young daughters eyes. She saw a maturity that she had not noticed before. It tugged at her heart that her child was pulling away from her, but she knew it was right. She nodded her head yes. "I will do what you ask, Valencia. I am proud of you, you have grown up to be a good woman."
"Thank you, Mother. Who I am is who you taught me to be. Now, I must go and try to find Pietro and tell him what 'may' be happening. We will work it out together." Valencia turned and left the room. Her Mother stayed for a moment and looked around the room her daughter had lived in most of her life. It had a few remnants of childhood, but mostly it looked like a woman's room, few frills, but very feminine. Finally, she left the room and returned to the kitchen, her days work just beginning.
Valencia walked across the village to Pietros small rooms. She had stayed away from them because she didn't feel it would look right, but now, that didn't seem to matter. The closer she got the more her heart beat quickened. Tiny beads of sweat formed between her breasts and her thighs. The thought of being in Pietros rooms alone with him began to stir longings in her body. Her nipples stood out against the fabric of her dress, rubbing as she walked made them tingle. Her belly tightened and she knew she would be wet, down below, down where her secret place was. She laughed. It was no longer a secret she guessed. Pietro certainly knew about it. These thoughts made her feel even more eager to see her lover. She blushed knowing what would happen if Pietro was home. A few minutes later she knocked on his door. No one answered. She knocked again. The excitement she had been feeling was slipping away. Where could he be? One last time she knocked, this time very loudly. She heard Pietro calling, "just a minute." She waited feeling relaxed and anxious at the same time.
Finally, Pietro opened the door. "Valencia?" He asked. "Why are you here?"
Valencia pushed past him into the small room. "I need to talk to you Pietro, it's important and you haven't been at the restaurant the last two nights. Where were you?"
Pietro ran his hand through his wet hair, he had been in the shower. Valencia looked beautiful. He didn't want to talk to her, he wanted to hold her and kiss her and touch the parts of her that made her moan. "I need to talk to you too." He said, ignoring her question about his whereabouts. He took Valencia's hand and led her to his bed-couch, he sat down pulling Valencia with him.
He leaned toward her and took her chin in his hand. He looked into her eyes and smiled. He was filled with desire. He took a deep breath and tried to stop his feelings, he did really need to talk to her.
Valencia looked at Pietro. Her heart welled with love for the handsome young man. She could smell the soapy cleanness of his freshly washed skin and hair. All the tingling and tightness in her body begged to be answered with his touch, but Valencia was determined to talk. At least....talk first.
"Pietro, I", Valencia hesitated. She knew Pietro loved her, but how would he react to her news.
"Valencia," Pietro began. "I....have talked to the coyote." There, it was out. He waited for her reaction.
"Oh, madre dios." She moaned. "Why Pietro? Why would you want to leave me? You said you loved me, we.....we made love. I don't understand."
"I do love you. I love you so much that I need to go to the U.S. so I can earn enough money that your Father will have respect for me and we can get married. Valencia, I do not want to live my life without you, I want you by my side as we grow old." Pietro stopped talking.
"I am happy you say you love me. Oh, Pietro, I love you so much my heart aches every minute I am without you. But, for you to go away, no Pietro that cannot be the answer. Besides......I.........a.....I'm late. My.....flow has not come as it should have. It is possible your baby is growing inside me right now. You can't leave me. Please tell me that you will be with me through this. I need you." Valencia stopped and stared into Pietro's eyes. Her heart beat heavy in her chest, her throat dry, yet her hands felt slick with perspiration.
"Valencia, I love you. If.....if you are carrying our child we will handle it together. I would never leave you to face such a thing alone, besides, a baby, our baby............ When will you know for sure?"
Many thoughts were swirling around in Pietro's head. What would he do now? How could he make enough money to support Valencia AND a baby?
"Soon, Pietro. If my flow does not come soon...... I will go to the doctor in the city, I couldn't go to the doctor here...."
Valencia leaned into Pietro's arms, he held her tightly. She felt safe there. She would stay in his arms forever if she could. She put her cheek on Pietro's chest. She could feel his heart beating. Gently, slowly, Pietro pulled Valencia down until they were laying on the bed. His arms tightened and every part of her became alive with need. His lips kissed hers, then moved to her neck. He pushed her dress off one shoulder and kissed the soft skin. She felt his need pressing against her. Soon, they would join. All thoughts of a baby were pushed from her mind, pushed by the desire, the need for more touches.
Pietro could hardly stand to wait, he wanted her so, but he held back, touching, rubbing, coaxing her body to the place where her eyes went wild and her moans grew loud. Where she strained against him asking for more.
Later, as they held each other, their breathing calming and Valencia's eyes shutting with sleep, Pietro thought about how their life would change if Valencia was pregnant. He was afraid. He would go to the church and pray for an answer, for a sign that would tell him what he should do. He wasn't sure he believed in the church, too many bad things had happened in his life, but he would try. He would try anything. A frown grew on his forehead. He wondered if the coyote would be mad, if he would find Pietro and demand at least a partial payment. Pietro put the thought out of his head. He could control nothing in his life right now. That would have to change. Many things would have to change. He hoped the answers would come soon. He held Valencia tighter. No matter what happened, his love for this beautiful girl would not change. Maybe, maybe, he thought, both he and Valencia should see the coyote. Maybe both of them should head north. Too many questions. His eyes grew heavy and sleep captured Pietro. At least for a little while, his problems would go away.
Click to go to part six.
Valencia stopped crying and looked up at her Mother, moving out of her Mother's embrace. "No, Mother, we will not 'make' Pietro or my Father do anything. If......if I am pregnant with Pietro's child, he will not need to be made to do the right thing. He loves me. And Mother? I will speak to my Father with Pietro, if it is necessary. I do not want you to do it. This is my doing and I will handle it in my own way. Promise me you will honor my wishes?"
Valencia's Mother looked deeply into her young daughters eyes. She saw a maturity that she had not noticed before. It tugged at her heart that her child was pulling away from her, but she knew it was right. She nodded her head yes. "I will do what you ask, Valencia. I am proud of you, you have grown up to be a good woman."
"Thank you, Mother. Who I am is who you taught me to be. Now, I must go and try to find Pietro and tell him what 'may' be happening. We will work it out together." Valencia turned and left the room. Her Mother stayed for a moment and looked around the room her daughter had lived in most of her life. It had a few remnants of childhood, but mostly it looked like a woman's room, few frills, but very feminine. Finally, she left the room and returned to the kitchen, her days work just beginning.
Valencia walked across the village to Pietros small rooms. She had stayed away from them because she didn't feel it would look right, but now, that didn't seem to matter. The closer she got the more her heart beat quickened. Tiny beads of sweat formed between her breasts and her thighs. The thought of being in Pietros rooms alone with him began to stir longings in her body. Her nipples stood out against the fabric of her dress, rubbing as she walked made them tingle. Her belly tightened and she knew she would be wet, down below, down where her secret place was. She laughed. It was no longer a secret she guessed. Pietro certainly knew about it. These thoughts made her feel even more eager to see her lover. She blushed knowing what would happen if Pietro was home. A few minutes later she knocked on his door. No one answered. She knocked again. The excitement she had been feeling was slipping away. Where could he be? One last time she knocked, this time very loudly. She heard Pietro calling, "just a minute." She waited feeling relaxed and anxious at the same time.
Finally, Pietro opened the door. "Valencia?" He asked. "Why are you here?"
Valencia pushed past him into the small room. "I need to talk to you Pietro, it's important and you haven't been at the restaurant the last two nights. Where were you?"
Pietro ran his hand through his wet hair, he had been in the shower. Valencia looked beautiful. He didn't want to talk to her, he wanted to hold her and kiss her and touch the parts of her that made her moan. "I need to talk to you too." He said, ignoring her question about his whereabouts. He took Valencia's hand and led her to his bed-couch, he sat down pulling Valencia with him.
He leaned toward her and took her chin in his hand. He looked into her eyes and smiled. He was filled with desire. He took a deep breath and tried to stop his feelings, he did really need to talk to her.
Valencia looked at Pietro. Her heart welled with love for the handsome young man. She could smell the soapy cleanness of his freshly washed skin and hair. All the tingling and tightness in her body begged to be answered with his touch, but Valencia was determined to talk. At least....talk first.
"Pietro, I", Valencia hesitated. She knew Pietro loved her, but how would he react to her news.
"Valencia," Pietro began. "I....have talked to the coyote." There, it was out. He waited for her reaction.
"Oh, madre dios." She moaned. "Why Pietro? Why would you want to leave me? You said you loved me, we.....we made love. I don't understand."
"I do love you. I love you so much that I need to go to the U.S. so I can earn enough money that your Father will have respect for me and we can get married. Valencia, I do not want to live my life without you, I want you by my side as we grow old." Pietro stopped talking.
"I am happy you say you love me. Oh, Pietro, I love you so much my heart aches every minute I am without you. But, for you to go away, no Pietro that cannot be the answer. Besides......I.........a.....I'm late. My.....flow has not come as it should have. It is possible your baby is growing inside me right now. You can't leave me. Please tell me that you will be with me through this. I need you." Valencia stopped and stared into Pietro's eyes. Her heart beat heavy in her chest, her throat dry, yet her hands felt slick with perspiration.
"Valencia, I love you. If.....if you are carrying our child we will handle it together. I would never leave you to face such a thing alone, besides, a baby, our baby............ When will you know for sure?"
Many thoughts were swirling around in Pietro's head. What would he do now? How could he make enough money to support Valencia AND a baby?
"Soon, Pietro. If my flow does not come soon...... I will go to the doctor in the city, I couldn't go to the doctor here...."
Valencia leaned into Pietro's arms, he held her tightly. She felt safe there. She would stay in his arms forever if she could. She put her cheek on Pietro's chest. She could feel his heart beating. Gently, slowly, Pietro pulled Valencia down until they were laying on the bed. His arms tightened and every part of her became alive with need. His lips kissed hers, then moved to her neck. He pushed her dress off one shoulder and kissed the soft skin. She felt his need pressing against her. Soon, they would join. All thoughts of a baby were pushed from her mind, pushed by the desire, the need for more touches.
Pietro could hardly stand to wait, he wanted her so, but he held back, touching, rubbing, coaxing her body to the place where her eyes went wild and her moans grew loud. Where she strained against him asking for more.
Later, as they held each other, their breathing calming and Valencia's eyes shutting with sleep, Pietro thought about how their life would change if Valencia was pregnant. He was afraid. He would go to the church and pray for an answer, for a sign that would tell him what he should do. He wasn't sure he believed in the church, too many bad things had happened in his life, but he would try. He would try anything. A frown grew on his forehead. He wondered if the coyote would be mad, if he would find Pietro and demand at least a partial payment. Pietro put the thought out of his head. He could control nothing in his life right now. That would have to change. Many things would have to change. He hoped the answers would come soon. He held Valencia tighter. No matter what happened, his love for this beautiful girl would not change. Maybe, maybe, he thought, both he and Valencia should see the coyote. Maybe both of them should head north. Too many questions. His eyes grew heavy and sleep captured Pietro. At least for a little while, his problems would go away.
Click to go to part six.
Part Four-Meeting with Coyote
“Help? Si, Hombre, I can help even a dog like you, if you have the money.”
Then he corrected himself, after all this dog is a customer and with the downturn in the Norte there are fewer wetbacks to collect his fee from; he will sweet talk the stinking beaner.”
“Are you ready to go amigo?”
Pietro said quietly, “Yes, I am ready to go, it is my future.”
“And you have the money?”
“How much?” asked Pietro.
The coyote shrugged. “For these days, with the increased boarder patrol, two thousand dollars and I will get you across to the land of milk and honey and opportunity. Can you pay?”
Pietro was silent, two thousand dollars was more than he had.
“Si, Senor, I can pay you two thousand dollars. When can I go?”
The coyote’s patience went only far. He saw the hesitation in the wetback’s face, he knew the man did not have the money. He slammed his palm on the table and half rising from his chair he yelled into Pietro’s face, “Look Wetback, you bring me two thousand dollars cash and then we’ll talk about ‘when’.”
They stared at each other for a few seconds and then the sat back down.
“Never mind amigo, I can do it for you, just get your money first”. He looked at his half empty glass of cervesa and he took a deep breath.
“Look amigo, it is tough to get to the US now, but I can do it for you, just get your money, OK?”
Pietro answered, “No problemo, senior, I will come back to you soon.” This was more than his head was happy with, but he had to say it, his heart forced him…he’d find the money somehow.”
Pietro turned and strode out of the bar wondering how much his pickup was worth.
Valencia looked at the calendar on her wall with the picture of the virgin. It was marked with red for five days 25 days ago. The virgin seemed to look with disapproval. Her flow had not come.
Well, she was no virgin and that was it. Now she had to face the music.
Valencia decided she must talk to Pietro; maybe she was just late, but maybe not, maybe Pietro’s baby was inside of her. They would marry. She would explain to her father that Pietro was a good man and that he would… She stopped. Pietro would what?
Valencia had no idea what Pietro would do or say, not just if she told him she might be pregnant but what could he do to provide for them. Would he even agree to marry her?
Valencia knew that together she and Pietro could make it but she did not know if Pietro knew this. She would discuss it with him but he had not been at the bar the last two nights. She had to find Pietro; where was he?
Valencia slipped the cotton dress over her slender shoulders and she resolved to find Pietro this day.
As Valencia turned to go she came face to face with her mother. How long had she been standing there?
They stood there looking into each other’s eyes. Finally Valencia’s mother spoke.
“We must speak to the padre my daughter, and then your father.”
Valencia felt like her world was collapsing around her, she was rapidly losing control of what was happening; she sank back on the bed and put her face into her two hands and sobbed, “Mother, what can I do?”
Part five
Then he corrected himself, after all this dog is a customer and with the downturn in the Norte there are fewer wetbacks to collect his fee from; he will sweet talk the stinking beaner.”
“Are you ready to go amigo?”
Pietro said quietly, “Yes, I am ready to go, it is my future.”
“And you have the money?”
“How much?” asked Pietro.
The coyote shrugged. “For these days, with the increased boarder patrol, two thousand dollars and I will get you across to the land of milk and honey and opportunity. Can you pay?”
Pietro was silent, two thousand dollars was more than he had.
“Si, Senor, I can pay you two thousand dollars. When can I go?”
The coyote’s patience went only far. He saw the hesitation in the wetback’s face, he knew the man did not have the money. He slammed his palm on the table and half rising from his chair he yelled into Pietro’s face, “Look Wetback, you bring me two thousand dollars cash and then we’ll talk about ‘when’.”
They stared at each other for a few seconds and then the sat back down.
“Never mind amigo, I can do it for you, just get your money first”. He looked at his half empty glass of cervesa and he took a deep breath.
“Look amigo, it is tough to get to the US now, but I can do it for you, just get your money, OK?”
Pietro answered, “No problemo, senior, I will come back to you soon.” This was more than his head was happy with, but he had to say it, his heart forced him…he’d find the money somehow.”
Pietro turned and strode out of the bar wondering how much his pickup was worth.
Valencia looked at the calendar on her wall with the picture of the virgin. It was marked with red for five days 25 days ago. The virgin seemed to look with disapproval. Her flow had not come.
Well, she was no virgin and that was it. Now she had to face the music.
Valencia decided she must talk to Pietro; maybe she was just late, but maybe not, maybe Pietro’s baby was inside of her. They would marry. She would explain to her father that Pietro was a good man and that he would… She stopped. Pietro would what?
Valencia had no idea what Pietro would do or say, not just if she told him she might be pregnant but what could he do to provide for them. Would he even agree to marry her?
Valencia knew that together she and Pietro could make it but she did not know if Pietro knew this. She would discuss it with him but he had not been at the bar the last two nights. She had to find Pietro; where was he?
Valencia slipped the cotton dress over her slender shoulders and she resolved to find Pietro this day.
As Valencia turned to go she came face to face with her mother. How long had she been standing there?
They stood there looking into each other’s eyes. Finally Valencia’s mother spoke.
“We must speak to the padre my daughter, and then your father.”
Valencia felt like her world was collapsing around her, she was rapidly losing control of what was happening; she sank back on the bed and put her face into her two hands and sobbed, “Mother, what can I do?”
Part five
Thursday, December 10, 2009
Pietro and Valencia Part three
Pietro agonized all day as he practiced his music, did his few household chores, and talked quietly to a few people about contacting the coyote. He was nervous. He had heard the horror stories; people who paid the man to get them across the border into the U.S., but never reached their goal. He knew of people who were found dead, he had attended funerals and seen the pain on the faces of the families left behind.
Pietros mind was set. If he wanted a life better than he had growing up he would have to do more than play his pan flute at the local restaurants. He would need to go to the U.S. and make money, real money. Only then would he be able to go to Valencia's Father and have a chance that he would not turn Pietro away. Yes, his mind was set, but that did not mean he wasn't scared. Not only of the coyote, and the journey, but of what Valencia would say. What if she would not wait for him? She was a beautiful and very desirable girl, other men would try to woo her into their arms. Would she be able to resist? Peitro decided that he would see the coyote first and find out how much it would cost him to get to the U.S. He knew if would be a lot. He had some savings, but he would have to work very hard to get the rest of the money. He would have find more work. He knew it would be difficult, jobs were scarce, but Pietro had a good reputation for being a hard worker, he would find employment somewhere. It would mean seeing much less of Valencia and he would be unable to spend his days writing songs and practicing his music. Sacrifices he would make for a better future.
Pietro went back to his casa. He counted the money he had hidden away under a board in the floor. It was a little over seven hundred dollars. Money he had planned on using to get a better place to live once he and Valencia were husband and wife. He realized that had been a dream. Without money, real money, his dream of a life with Valencia was just that; a dream.
Pietro sat on his bed thinking of Valencia. When he shut his eyes, he could feel the softness of her skin. The smell of her hair, and how it felt to touch the tender spot just behind her ear with his lips. He wished she was here now. She had never been to his casa, she said it was to dangerous, too many people could see her and tell her Father. Besides, she said, her going to Pietros home would make her feel like one of the bad girls with the bad reputations, the ones the men smiled at then laughed at behind their backs. No, she was a good girl. Well, maybe not pure like her Father thought, but better than most of the girls in the village. Besides, Pietro knew Valencia loved him.
Pietro did not take any money with him to the meeting with the coyote. He tried hard to bolster his courage to face the man who could change his future. He did not want the man to see his fear, it would make him seem weak and the coyote might try to take advantage of Pietro's fear and his youth. Once again, Pietro shut his eyes. This time he did not think of Valencia, he pictured himself as a strong young man, confident and sure of his actions. He breathed deeply until he felt a calmness come over him. Now he felt ready for the meeting. He entered the small cafe where he had been told that he could find the coyote. The cafe was small and dark. Pietro had to wait to let his eyes adjust to the lack of light. When they did, Pietro saw the man sitting at a table. The man looked at Pietro like he was a piece of meat. Pietro guessed that was probably close to the truth. Pietro took another deep breath and sat down at the table across from the man. He wished that he knew the man, knew whether he could really do what he promised; to get people safely into the U.S.. Pietro could only have faith. "My name is Pietro." He said. "I want to go to the United States and find work. I need to earn a lot of money. I have heard you can help me."
Click to go to part four.
Pietros mind was set. If he wanted a life better than he had growing up he would have to do more than play his pan flute at the local restaurants. He would need to go to the U.S. and make money, real money. Only then would he be able to go to Valencia's Father and have a chance that he would not turn Pietro away. Yes, his mind was set, but that did not mean he wasn't scared. Not only of the coyote, and the journey, but of what Valencia would say. What if she would not wait for him? She was a beautiful and very desirable girl, other men would try to woo her into their arms. Would she be able to resist? Peitro decided that he would see the coyote first and find out how much it would cost him to get to the U.S. He knew if would be a lot. He had some savings, but he would have to work very hard to get the rest of the money. He would have find more work. He knew it would be difficult, jobs were scarce, but Pietro had a good reputation for being a hard worker, he would find employment somewhere. It would mean seeing much less of Valencia and he would be unable to spend his days writing songs and practicing his music. Sacrifices he would make for a better future.
Pietro went back to his casa. He counted the money he had hidden away under a board in the floor. It was a little over seven hundred dollars. Money he had planned on using to get a better place to live once he and Valencia were husband and wife. He realized that had been a dream. Without money, real money, his dream of a life with Valencia was just that; a dream.
Pietro sat on his bed thinking of Valencia. When he shut his eyes, he could feel the softness of her skin. The smell of her hair, and how it felt to touch the tender spot just behind her ear with his lips. He wished she was here now. She had never been to his casa, she said it was to dangerous, too many people could see her and tell her Father. Besides, she said, her going to Pietros home would make her feel like one of the bad girls with the bad reputations, the ones the men smiled at then laughed at behind their backs. No, she was a good girl. Well, maybe not pure like her Father thought, but better than most of the girls in the village. Besides, Pietro knew Valencia loved him.
Pietro did not take any money with him to the meeting with the coyote. He tried hard to bolster his courage to face the man who could change his future. He did not want the man to see his fear, it would make him seem weak and the coyote might try to take advantage of Pietro's fear and his youth. Once again, Pietro shut his eyes. This time he did not think of Valencia, he pictured himself as a strong young man, confident and sure of his actions. He breathed deeply until he felt a calmness come over him. Now he felt ready for the meeting. He entered the small cafe where he had been told that he could find the coyote. The cafe was small and dark. Pietro had to wait to let his eyes adjust to the lack of light. When they did, Pietro saw the man sitting at a table. The man looked at Pietro like he was a piece of meat. Pietro guessed that was probably close to the truth. Pietro took another deep breath and sat down at the table across from the man. He wished that he knew the man, knew whether he could really do what he promised; to get people safely into the U.S.. Pietro could only have faith. "My name is Pietro." He said. "I want to go to the United States and find work. I need to earn a lot of money. I have heard you can help me."
Click to go to part four.
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