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Authors: P. S. Carillo

BOOK: Desert Passage
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“T
he boys will be just fine, don't you worry. I'll take good care of them,” reassured Abuelita Rosa.

“Mamá, I know you will, but I want them to do all the work on this list,” insisted Rodrigo, handing a piece of paper to his mother. “Everything on this list must be completed by the time we get back.”


Ay, mijo
, there's so much to do,” Abuelita Rosa said, reading the list with her tired eyes. “Maybe if they did half …. ”

“No, Mamá. I want all of it done, no excuses!”

Abuelita Rosa didn't argue with her headstrong son. She went back to the kitchen and checked on the food cooking on the stove. When her family had arrived, they had been greeted by the warm, familiar scents of her house. A fresh pot of rice and spicy tamales were warming in the oven and the
mole
sauce needed just one more stir. She picked up the large spoon from the tiled countertop and asked her family to sit at her table.

“Boys, come and eat,” said Connie.

The television was blaring in the small living room. Sounds of gunfire and explosions vibrated through the house.

“Turn that thing off and get over here!” yelled Rodrigo. “I should have never allowed you to bring a video game system. What was I thinking?”

“But it gives the boys something to do when they visit. I don't want them to be bored,” Abuelita Rosa answered.

Rodrigo glared at the expensive video equipment and the stack of games lying scattered on the floor. The intrusive
noise of the television had been turned off but the irritating sounds still echoed in his head.

“I don't want you two just playing video games while we're gone. You have a lot of work to do,” Rodrigo warned, sitting down at the head of the kitchen table.

“They should have some fun, too. It's their summer vacation,” suggested Abuelita Rosa.

“Why do they give kids vacations in the summer?” Rodrigo replied. “No one gives
me
a vacation and I work hard to support my family. I have to make my own vacations!”

“Let's have a nice dinner. Tomorrow we'll be leaving and the boys will have plenty of time to think about why they are here,” said Connie.

“You're too hard on them,
mijo
. They're just boys,” added Abuelita Rosa.

“Things are different now, Mamá. It's not like when Enrique and I were growing up.”

Rodrigo looked at his brother's picture placed on the wood sideboard next to the kitchen table. The youthful face of his brother stood staring out at the family from the gold metal frame. Rodrigo's chest tightened with the sudden remembrance of grief, and he paused before continuing his thoughts aloud.

“These kids nowadays don't respect authority. They don't know what it takes to be real men in today's world,” he lectured. “We didn't grow up with all the advantages that kids have today. I remember working every summer. We had to work for what we had.”


Mijo
, don't you remember the special trips you made with your father and Enrique?” Abuelita Rosa asked patiently.

“If we did go on trips it's because we earned it!” Rodrigo replied without thinking.

Abuelita Rosa listened to her son with love. When the last plate of food was served on the table she said softly to Rodrigo, “Things are not so different,
mijo
. Boys still need guidance and love to grow up strong.”

Rodrigo heard his mother's words and didn't contradict her, out of respect. He quietly sopped up the
mole
sauce with a warm tortilla and whispered to himself, “I know what's best for my sons.”

 
Chapter 3
 

T
he morning sun came streaming through the bedroom window and slowly awakened the slumbering boys. They stirred in their warm beds and slowly opened their eyes to the sunlight, still in the comfort of boyhood dreams.

“What do you mean they're still in bed! Do you know what time it is?!” Rodrigo's voice shouted in anger as it penetrated the walls of the bedroom. Rodrigo was already in a turbulent mood and the thought of two healthy boys sleeping through the morning hours irritated him even more.

“Marisol, go knock on the door and see if Miguel and Ramón are awake yet,” Connie ordered. She was nervously packing the ice chest with contents from the refrigerator, trying not to forget anything.

Marisol finished her bowl of chocolate-flavored cereal and slowly slid off the kitchen chair. “I was up early so I could help,” she reminded her father who had just sat down with a road map and a cup of coffee.

“I know,
mi preciosa
. You're my angel,” he smiled in response to the little girl. He took a drink from the mug and unfolded the map to view their destination.

Marisol casually walked through the long hallway of her grandmother's house and knocked on the boys' bedroom door: “Miguel, Ramón, you better get up, or else!”

She walked back to the kitchen and grabbed a doughnut from the counter. She took a bite and gave the rest to her father.

Abuelita Rosa was busy making flour tortillas. The rolling pin glided smoothly under her rough, small hands.
She lightly floured the wood board and flipped the dough in place.

“I'll make some extra for the trip,” she said, partly to herself, as the steaming, cooked tortillas piled high on a kitchen towel.

“If we travel down the interstate after passing through Flagstaff, we'll make better time,” Rodrigo said to his wife, who was unpacking the ice chest to rearrange it.

“We should reach Santa Fe in three days, that's if we stop to rest and see the sights along the way. Would you like that, Marisol?” he asked.

Marisol smiled, with white-powdered sugar on her face, and nodded her head while tipping the cereal bowl to drink the chocolate-flavored milk.

“There is so much to do, Rodrigo. I hope we can leave within the hour.”

Connie remembered all her husband's past warnings to his family about starting trips early in the day. After trying to reorganize the ice chest, she conceded that it wasn't large enough for the contents. The water bottles were left out along with Marisol's snack bars.

“The boys need to help us repack the car, it's the least they can do,” Rodrigo said focusing his attention on the map. From the corner of his eye, he saw two figures appear in the kitchen doorway.

“Oh, thank you for blessing us with your presence, young princes,” Rodrigo said in a sardonic tone.

Miguel and Ramón didn't respond to the teasing. They pulled out chairs from the kitchen table and sat down, both staring into nowhere.


Hijos
, what can I get you to eat? ¿
Qué quieren comer
?” Abuelita Rosa asked the boys tenderly, and set a pile of fresh tortillas in the middle of the table. She also placed a plate with doughnuts and two glasses of orange juice. Rodrigo
looked up from his map with a disapproving look but kept quiet.

“I don't know,” answered Miguel, as he grabbed a doughnut and slid a glass of orange juice to himself. The grandmother filled two plates with eggs, beans, and
chorizo
and started to assemble a larger plate for her son.

“Mamá, just make me a burrito with a lot of
chorizo
,” Rodrigo ordered from his seat.

“Sí, mijo.”

Abuelita Rosa quickly assembled the burrito and placed the plate in front of her son.

Taking the burrito in his hands, he took a large bite and chewed in satisfaction. With his mouth half full he said, “We have to go over the rules before we leave.”

His eyes focused on his son first, then on his nephew. “See that box over there?” He pointed to an empty cardboard box sitting on the floor. “I want all of your video games, iPods, cell phones,
todas sus cosas.
You're not keeping anything here!”

The boys ate their eggs with a fork and scooped up their beans and
chorizo
with the flour tortillas. They heard the command and glanced at each other between bites.

“Can't we at least keep the video game player?” begged Miguel.

“That machine is a big waste of time, I've already unplugged it and it's getting loaded into the truck! You'll have plenty of work to keep you busy!” Rodrigo said.

After a few minutes of uncomfortable silence at the kitchen table, Ramón had the courage to speak up first. “Tío, what if there's an emergency, shouldn't we have our cell phones, at least?” The question seemed reasonable to him and he held his gaze on his uncle waiting for a rational reply.

“I don't care about your emergencies. What kind of emergencies could the two of you have?!” Rodrigo's voice rose in
anger as he put down the map. “I'm facing having a son and a nephew who don't care about their futures. Who am I going to call with
my
emergency?” He grinned to himself, pleased at his artful response.

“Maybe Ramón is right,” Connie said from behind the kitchen counter. “Something could happen and they may need to reach us.”

“Connie, I've made a decision and they are going to follow the rules. That's it!” Rodrigo rose from the table and grabbed the box from the floor and roared, “I want all your junk in here now!”

The boys got up and went to the bedroom to retrieve the items demanded. They mournfully put their iPods, cell phones, and video games in the box, then sank back into the kitchen chairs.

“Let them finish eating,
mijo
,” Abuelita Rosa requested, feeling bad for her grandsons.

“That's all they're good for, sleeping and eating. Neither one would know what to do if they were on their own. They can't even take care of themselves!” Rodrigo threw his hands up in the air and walked outside to pack the SUV.

Connie sat down at the table with the boys and drank a cup of coffee as they finished their breakfast. She looked at their young faces and remembered them as they were as young children only a few years ago. Miguel was her son. He had always been taller and rougher than the other kids but she knew he had a tender heart. Ramón was her nephew, her husband's brother's son. His dad, Enrique, had died when Ramón was only three years old. She looked at Ramón lovingly. The family had agreed to allow Rodrigo and Connie to raise Ramón after the accident. Ramón's mother had been too depressed to care for her child. Miguel and Ramón had been raised as brothers.

Connie sipped the coffee slowly and looked down to the floor at the box holding the boys' treasures. All those things had been bought to encourage them to do better in school. Rodrigo wanted the boys to have everything that he didn't have when he was growing up and Connie knew it hurt him to take these things away after giving them as gifts.

It was after the sixth grade that both boys started having trouble at school.

Both Miguel and Ramón had been involved in two fights within just the past month. No one had been seriously hurt, but the school principal wanted to expel them. When Connie and her husband met with the school guidance counselor, he said that their violent behavior was due to peer pressure and that they both needed more discipline at home. Connie remembered walking out of the counselor's office feeling embarrassed and ashamed of what they had told her and her husband. Rodrigo had gone into a rage and threatened to send each one to a military school if they didn't shape up.

They were also deeply concerned about the boys' grades. Miguel had been a good student, especially in history and science. The teachers at his middle school had told Connie that her son would be a natural as a history teacher. He especially liked the study of ancient civilizations. Rodrigo had bought him numerous books on ancient Egypt and Greece, hoping that his son would learn more than he did in school. But as the months passed, Miguel stopped reading the books and his interest in school diminished.

Ramón had never done well in school, even as a young child. His teachers had described him as not attentive in class and not focused on his assignments. The young boy was interested and talented in art and music, but the teachers and school counselors never allowed for his unique abilities. With their recent failures, Miguel and Ramón had begun to doubt themselves in school and in life.

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