Stars Always Shine (27 page)

Crying brokenly and hating the cruelty that God allowed, Place squirmed and twisted and sputtered, “I want revenge!” And then as if needing to make it clear to Salvador, “¡Yo quiero mi venganza!” He crawled along the ground scratching at the dirt to break free from both his wife and his best friend. All of the defeats in his life flashed before him, fanning the hot lights of bitterness and the acidulous anger that he could never quite extinguish.

In soothing, medicated, and mantric tones, Mitch repeated, “Place, we’re leaving. Place, we’re leaving tonight, right now. Now let’s go, honey. Come on, sweetheart. We’re leaving, Place. We’re leaving the ranch.”

A dull night light flickered in the upper floor of the Kittles’ milkbarn apartment, and somewhere they cut into thick slabs of prime rib and washed it down with rich bold red wine. From the ranch house a gleaming glow radiated, and it looked as if every light was on. All of the faucets from the kitchen sink to the bathtub roared freely with flowing water, stoppers and rags punched in securely to ensure that they would fill and then overflow. Off to one side and blocked by the brightness spraying from the ranch house, a slowly idling engine putted and a truck waited patiently. In the darkness of StarRidge Ranch, in the peacefulness of the community around Sweet Wine Road, Mitch and Salvador walked Place toward their silent brown truck, each of them holding firmly to his upper arms. Glimmering red dots of lights signaled to them from the idling truck next to theirs, and it sat loaded with all of the belongings that Mitch and Place had moved to the ranch.

Paul Legarratta and his son sat waiting in their truck.

Mitch and Salvador eased Place into the little pickup. Salvador studied Place closely for a moment and then quickly ran to his stall barn room.

“You okay, Mitchy?” Legarratta asked seriously, occasionally looking toward the milk barn apartment and the entrance to the ranch while his son held a rifle loosely between his legs.

“Yeah, Pauly,” Mitch said as she wiped her sniffling nose and drew in a deep and exasperated breath. “We’re okay. We’re going to be okay, Pauly.”

“The cottage will be ready for you, Mitchy, when you get there. It’ll be tight with the three of you and your animals, but that’s the best I can do,” Legarrata said assuredly and then as if apologizing. Wanting to comfort Mitch and knowing he didn’t need to, Legarrata pushed on the clutch, patted Mitch’s arm gently, shifted the truck into gear, and said, “Remember, you owe me one, Mitchy.”

Mitch smiled shyly, and almost embarrassed, she walked toward the cab of her truck. In the back, Rosa and Coquette stood excited and alert, poking their heads from each side. Salvador came running toward the truck, clumsily holding a box of assorted clothing in one hand and clutching Gatita in the other. Place was wedged in between Mitch and Salvador, who draped an arm around Place as if to hold him up and back.

Michelle Stanton held the bottom of the steering wheel loosely and the dingy brown truck seemed to float on the dirt and gravel entrance of StarRidge Ranch. As they left the ranch, Salvador waved to the little help house. They drove on Sweet Wine Road into the darkness that would soon blaze with life-giving sunlight. The open land lay still, almost dead. Long streaks from leaning trees sent out darker points of murky and sullen shadows. Deeper into the undulating valleys, past productive farms and ranches, leaving orderly orchards and vineyards behind, and onward to where the horizon crashes with consistent, rhythmic, pounding waves, the weathered truck chugged along.

Salvador watched carefully, his eyes big as if experiencing Sweet Wine Road and its scenery for the first time. He held Place closely and whispered a blessing for all of them, “Que Dios nos bendiga.”

Mitch, her window rolled down all the way, looked out and up at the stars. With her free hand, she rubbed Place’s thigh gently and looked for the ridge of stars he had once tried to point out to her.

Stars Always Shine
is
Rick Rivera’s
second novel. His first novel,
A Fabricated Mexican
, was published in 1995. He has also had an autobiographical story published in
Chicken Soup for the Latino Soul.
In his writing, Rivera explores themes related to language and identity, cultural assimilation, and the influence of geography and environment. Rivera attended Sonoma State University in Northern California, where he received his master’s degree in English. He currently teaches English at a California community college. He continues to write poems and short stories, and he has completed his third novel, which is not yet published. When he is not teaching and writing, Rivera enjoys skiing and backpacking in the Central Sierras where he lives.