Run for the Border Part I

La Cantina


The parking lot was empty except for a handful of trucks. Alicia was eager and anxious at the same time. She was excited to be going out with the girls again, but afraid that she would be the unattractive friend that didn’t get any notice.
Her confidence had dwindled to nothing in the last few years. She felt fat and ugly; Alicia had put on weight and hadn’t really taken care of herself in a very long time.
Alicia Robles had been doing a two-year sentence in a bad relationship with a guy that liked to see her cry. John was a controlling bastard and she had told him so during the fight that followed his announcement that he was leaving. Of course there wasn’t another woman, pending her discovery of Tammy a week later. Then he confessed. The jerk even called her to meet with him and talk. He had the nerve to ask Alicia for a kiss.
Alicia lovingly offered to allow him to kiss her ass.
Alicia was excellent at making herself and others believe that she was tougher than she really was. She wanted to meet someone to help her forget about John. That was a very unhealthy thing to want and she knew it.
Alicia didn’t know how to dress for La Cantina so she put on her one and only pair of jeans, black and bursting at the seams from age and pressure. She opted for a low-cut white ruffled blouse and black boots. Her earrings were the biggest pair of gold hoops she owned. Her gold crucifix felt cool and comforting against her skin. She briefly wondered if it would be a bad thing to pray to get laid. John didn’t like makeup so she caked it on thick. She was half hooker and half bloated cowgirl. Alicia was thick with shoulder length dark brown hair that was alternately too curly or too straight. She wasn’t tall or short. Her eyes were an interesting mix of green, blue, and gold. Most people knew that Alicia was haunted by something other than the break up, but they never asked what the other was.
Alicia Robles’s origins were a mystery to her, she grew up with an aunt in Arizona, and the subject was never discussed. Alicia’s aunt was never at home unless she had a new marido installed at the house. Alicia was expected to cook, clean, and do all the laundry when there wasn’t. But if there was a man, she was to never be around and never ever be alone with him. Her aunt was very suspicious of her then. She spent many days alone with the TV and her daydreams. When she left Arizona with John she vowed not to return to life as a servant. She hadn’t spoken to her aunt since she left.
Alicia surveyed the bar’s parking lot looking for Carla’s car. She didn’t want to go in alone. It was a warm night in the low 70’s with a great breeze. Summer was arriving early.
Omaha is the last place you would think to find a large Latino population, but in the last ten years the south side of Omaha had become a magnet for immigration due to the meat packing plants. Telecommunications had attracted the previously unskilled labor and left the slaughterhouses needing workers willing to work for low wages and with a high tolerance for gore. The men outnumbered the population of available women in the neighborhood, four to one.
The other girls had all been coming to La Cantina for months. Carla and Monica were in new relationships every week. They weren’t really relationships; week long one night stands was more appropriate. Monica had some guy from Guanajuato paying her rent and her car payment. Carla was seeing a guy that was in Mexico and sending money back here to her.
Monica drove her truck into the lot and pulled in next to Alicia’s white Taurus.
“Hey girl”, called out Monica.
Monica was gorgeous, with black hair to her waist, black eyes, and deep brown skin that glowed. Her parents were from Ecuador; she came from California and had only been in Omaha for a couple of months. She was thin and 5’4” in heels. She always dressed elegantly. Her jewelry was reflecting the little light that there was. She was definitely beautiful.
Monica was wearing a long split-skirt dark blue dress with a rhinestone starburst on the top.
Alicia looked down at her clothes and groaned as she got out joining Monica on the sidewalk.
Monica looked her over and said, “Looks good cowgirl, all you need now is a white tejana”
“Well I do look good in a cowboy hat.” She purred, while posing with an invisible hat, “I am so nervous Mon. Do I look okay?” Alicia asked with a self-conscious giggle.
“You are perfect for this place. Mira! Carla is here. Crazy bitch was already drinking at three this afternoon.” Monica said while she lit her cigarette and tried not to chip the new paint job on her red acrylic nails. She never smoked in front of men, because men did not want to see a woman smoke.
Monica called every other female a bitch, but would take it personally herself. She was such a peacock. Monica was only 23 but had more experience than all of the girls in the group. She always told them about the Mexican dances in California and all the vaquero boyfriends that she had since she was 14. Her parents encouraged her to marry a 40-year-old guy when she was 16. She didn’t do it, but she had a way of getting men to pay all her bills and not get in her life. She said the easiest way to do it was to only hook up with older married men. They couldn’t complain too much.
Carla got out of the most repulsive orange Geo Metro in the world. She was laughing loudly as she fumbled with the door, unable to get out of the car. She was enjoying her buzz.
Carla was dark with brown hair and eyes. She was a Monica’s cousin. Her mom and dad were still in Ecuador, so she lived with Monica and her parents, far from the watchful eye of her own parents. Carla was the party girl always dancing, drinking, and smiling.
Alicia was glad to see Carla had arrived.
Smiling broadly, Monica called out, “Don’t forget to grab your I.D.”.
Carla flashed her panties as she bent over to pick up the contents of the purse that she dumped on the concrete. Carla always wore mini skirts. She had great legs and she loved to show them off. She was cute in a black Lycra mini and red halter, while trying to slip back into her black sandals. Carla was a mess tonight. She was thinner than Alicia but in her current outfit she looked heavier and had more rolls than a bakery.
“Carla I don’t want to see your ass” said Monica as she shook her head at her cousin.
The three girls walked into the bar and presented their I.D.s to the man on the door. The inside was heavy with cigarette smoke and the music was so loud that it felt like assault.
When they walked into the darkness all of them stopped to let their eyes adjust to the crypt-like darkness.
“Let’s sit over by the dance floor”, yelled Monica over the loud norteña music.
The girls settled down to a casually cleaned wobbly table surrounded by three wobbly black chairs that didn’t match.
Alicia was rethinking Monica’s comment about her being perfect for this place. It was a seedy place at best. The other patrons were all Mexican men young and old, all dressed like cowboys. They were drinking alone and in groups, but all were watching the three women.
A fat drunk man approached the table and tried to kiss Monica. She dipped her head and offered her cheek to the guy.
“Monica let me give you drinks. Okay?” he slurred as he rubbed Monica’s bare arms.
“Bueno Carlos”, she smiled coldly at him as she lifted his hands off of her.
“That guy is such a drunken pain in the ass, but he owns a roofing company and has money. He will try to talk to the maricas when he is drunker.” Monica said as she smoothed her dress and posed. The boys that tried to be mistaken for girls always generated contempt from Monica.
Carlos returned with three glasses and a bottle of Agave. He poured the blue liquid and did get most of it in the glasses.
“Thank you Carlos” said Monica with a bored glance over the rim of her glass. She set her glass back on the table and he refilled it instantly.
Carlos was still sober enough to know that he would have to either go home soon and face Maria, his wife of 13 years, or face her in the morning with a hangover. If he could find a girlfriend on the side he would stop getting drunk all the time. In his town in Sinaloa all the important men had mistresses and wives. He owned his own business and really wanted to have the same respect. Monica as his girlfriend would earn him that admiration. He would take her immediately to Sinaloa to see the approval on the faces of the men that used to taunt him about his poverty and his background. His father had killed his mother when he was young, during a beating, because she was disrespectful. Carlos didn’t remember what his mother had done to earn the pounding, but whatever she did; it was enough to earn her death.
“Women are so stupid", as he drank other shot of Agave and shook the memory from his mind.
He had been trying to get with Monica for months and nothing was working.
“She must be a lesbian”, he thought to himself.
Carlos saw Lupe, old enough to be his mother and desperate enough to go home with him regularly, enter the bar and knew that he could always leave with her if he didn’t find another woman to go home with. She had her own place and he didn’t feel like having in sex in his truck. He started over to Lupe and left the young girls for later, after he had secured his backup plan.
“Monica, when do the people get here?” Alicia asked eyeing the clientele.
“Well, las vacas will arrive soon. You see these white bitches. They show up all stupid and try to catch a Mexican. The men playing green card roulette with them, all they win is the police called for domestic violence or stalking. Those bitches just don’t know how to treat a man.” Monica said angrily.
“Are you feeling better now?” Alicia attempted to interject humor into the conversation. She took a sip and glanced around the bar.
Carla jumped from her chair nearly knocking over the table and chairs, gleefully shouting “Luis is here! I’ll be back.” She rushed to a tall man with a bad mullet and a silk shirt. She flung her arms around his neck and pressed her body against him. If she hadn’t been drunk she might have noticed that she could smell him from ten feet away. Luis always wore too much cologne and drank too much tequila. They found a quiet corner and started making out.
“Ay Papi!” purred Carla as Luis stroked her between her legs and firmly squeezed her breast. “Can I spend the night with you tonight?”
“No Carla. I can’t afford a motel and I have to work in the morning” said Luis as he licked and bit Carla’s neck.
“Can’t we go to your home?”
“No. Carla I have roommates and I can’t do that.” Luis straightened in the chair and pushed Carla away from him.
“Luis, you didn’t answer your cell phone all day and now I can’t go to your house.” Pouting, Carla gave him her best upset look.
“Sorry. I left my cell in David’s truck” said Luis as he looked around as if he was trying to find someone. “Carla I have to go. I am waiting for my compadres”. Luis stood up to walk away.
“Wait Luis! Come sit with me” pleaded Carla as she pulled on Luis’s arm.
“No Carla. I will come over later” with that Luis walked away.
Alicia sat drinking tequila and checking out the men and women that came in, with commentary from Monica when she wasn’t off talking to the dozens of men that she knew.
Alicia got to see las vacas when they arrived. The girls were in a group of five most with blonde or light brown hair. Two of the girls were heavy and the other three were thin, all of them were white and pretty. The girls were dressed pretty much the same as Alicia. Monica detested the girls and told Alicia that at least one of them was not actually a girl.
“I hate Luis’s stupid ass. I asked him to sit with us and he says he has to stay with his compadres”, Carla said as she dropped into her chair. She lit a cigarette and then put it out in the ashtray right away.
“I ‘m going to the baño” said Carla as walked away tipsy and irritated.
“Mira Alicia. What the hell is Luis doing?” yelled Monica pointing at the group of girls she called las vacas. Luis was leading one of the girls out onto the dance floor.
She was pretty with dark blonde hair. In a baby pink tank top and faded jeans, she was cute. She didn’t dance fluidly but she looked like she was catching on to the rhythm and the steps that Luis was leading her through.
While Monica and Alicia watched, Carla charged onto the dance floor and grabbed the girl’s hair and slapped her in the face.
The white girl was startled and didn’t seem to understand what had happened.
Luis shoved the white girl behind him and grabbed Carla by the forearms.
“Carla what the hell you doing? You want to get throwed out?” Luis said, with a warning look in his eyes.
“Who is that bitch Luis?” Carla screamed at Luis while keeping her eyes on the girl and trying to get away from Luis’s grip.
“Her name is Leslie, she is my compadres girlfriend” Luis shouted at Carla and Leslie it sounded like he said her name was lazy. “Let’s go outside”. Luis pulled Carla out of the bar.
Monica was livid and started for the girl.
“Wait! Her friends are watching us. Carla’s outside. Let’s go.” Alicia’s words prompted Monica look at las vacas and reassess the wisdom of going after Lazy.
The girls seemed ready to go after Carla and Luis and appeared to change their minds by unspoken agreement; they sat down and Leslie headed back toward her friends.
Monica and Alicia walked to the door through a packed crowd of men and a few women. Alicia was certain that at least twice someone grabbed her ass.
They stepped out into the balmy night and the breeze seemed to clean away the smoke and noise that they left behind.
The night was refreshing but the scene outside was stale. Luis was pressing Carla against his truck biting her neck and rubbing his too tight jeans against her as her skirt was being pushed up to reveal her panties again.
“Carla, I love you too much. I don’t know her. You too jealous.” Luis was convincing Carla as only Luis could.
The bond connecting Luis and Carla was as warped as a CD left on your dashboard over Labor Day weekend in hell. They were breaking up and making up relentlessly. Carla never had a boyfriend when a new guy caught her eye, but she sure did whenever she was alone and Luis was close at hand. Of course, Luis never had a girlfriend unless he needed a favor or was drunk on a weeknight and wanted to stay over with Carla.
The mystery was Monica’s fury when the drama began. She always appeared to be more upset with Luis than Carla was. Alicia and Carla had discussed this situation on several occasions and never came up with a solution to that problem.
“Carla what are you doing you damn ass? He just disrespected you with that puta. Don’t be stupid.” Monica was yelling at the top of lungs and her fists were clenched in front of her chest and she was shaking with rage.
“It’s okay Monica. Luis explained, just a misunderstanding.” Carla was rubbing the front of Luis’s jeans.
“Go back inside and stay out of our business.” Luis waves his hand dismissively in the direction of Monica and Alicia.
“C’mon Mon. Let’s have fun. Leave her with her mentiroso.” Carla touched Monica’s arm.
“Whatever!” Monica threw at Carla and stormed back toward the bar, as Alicia hurried to keep pace with her.
They both entered the bar with every intention of getting drunk and finding the loves of their lives.



New Beginnings


The girls all managed to get drunk and collect phone numbers. Monica went to the riverboat casino in Council Bluffs with Aurelio, a beautiful man in a black Dodge Durango. Luis disappeared shortly after las vacas left. Carla had tried convincing Alicia to go to a house party with her and three boys she met from Baja California in the parking lot of La Cantina. Alicia went home to her apartment to sleep and evaluate her options.
Alicia awoke to the sound of the neighbors, Jose and Mirsa. They were having a bronca because Jose got home at 11:00am. The battle was winding down, she just heard a slap and whimpering, finally silence. She waded through the mountain of unpacked boxes in her tiny apartment, looking for her coffeemaker, coffee, filters, and her coffee mug. She had unpacked her radio the night before and tuned it into the Mexican music station relaying the broadcast from Wichita. She found what she was looking for in the second box she opened and got her morning coffee started. She downed the contents of an almost empty two-liter of Mountain Dew that she had in the refrigerator while waiting for her coffee. She was trying to eliminate the after-bar flavor of desert from her mouth.
Alicia poured her coffee and shoveled sugar into the steaming mug added milk and leaned against the counter with closed eyes as she savored the sweet coffee. She wanted to crawl back in bed, but was too tired to walk back to it. She knew that she had to get the apartment in order, do laundry, and get ready to go back out with the girls tonight.
Alicia unpacked kitchen and clothes boxes for 3 hours. She emptied her purse and found the numbers that she had collected the night before. She couldn’t remember any faces to go with the names. She also knew that she wanted to head over to the California Boutique to buy an outfit for tonight. The owner went to California regularly and brought back inventory for her store. That equaled cheap prices for cute clothes.
She went to take a shower and figured that she could do her laundry tomorrow after misa. Alicia had to put up her shower curtain before she could bathe; made more difficult by the fact that she had a hangover.
Alicia loved scents. Her soaps and lotions were all tropical scents. Alicia even bought scented dish soap. She always believed that the scents were more luxurious and allowed her to feel rich.
Alicia’s legs and feet were sore from all the dancing last night. She was surrounded by the smell of tropical flowers and it was wonderful. She toweled dry and brushed through her hair and wondered if it was time to color it or just do something different.






Monica awoke bleary eyed and unsure of whose bed she was in. She remembered that she had made it home to her parent’s house last night, because of the smells of coffee and fried empanadas emanating from the walls themselves. Monica allowed herself a moment to relive her time with Aurelio last night at the casino. He was beautiful; she saw how the other women looked at him with hunger. Monica knew that no one could turn his head. She was beautiful and men were proud to be seen with her. Aurelio was the first man that she ever felt proud to be seen with, he was her perfect complement. He was muscular, tall, black hair, amber eyes, and very well dressed. He smelled good to her, and he felt good. He had a way of making it clear that he was in charge without ever saying a word. They had lost money in the slot machine, but he didn’t seem to care. They ate a small breakfast of muffins and coffee in the casino’s all night diner. The coffee was bitter and awful. He was talking about his roofing business and asking if she wanted to be his assistant and run the company with him. He was soaked in sex appeal and gold. She may have met the man of her dreams. She gave him her cell phone number and hoped he called soon. She knew that she needed to fend off the pulsating in her head, but knew that she had to pull it together and figure out if Carla had returned home last night, before facing her mami and papi.
Mr. and Mrs. Echevarria were traditional and didn’t yell at the girls, however their disapproving silence was deafening. Monica eased out of bed slowly peeling her tangled hair away from her face. Her room was directly above the kitchen and since her parents did not believe in wasting money on using the air conditioner, the temperature in her room was three doors from hell. She shook the hair away from her face and knew immediately that she had made a huge mistake. Monica wrapped her arms around her stomach as she battled the tequila soldiers that threatened to deploy all over the wood floor.
Monica slipped from her room with as much grace as she could manage to take a shower and check to see if Carla was in her room. The grilling by her parents would make any barbecue proud if Carla wasn’t there. She eased the door open and was thrilled to see Carla’s head, and then devastated to spot a smooth brown chest under it.
Monica entered the room and grabbed Carla’s arm with one hand while covering Carla’s mouth with the other. “Carla! Get that guy out of here!” Monica was practically yanking Carla off the bed. Monica’s early morning misery replaced with absolute terror. Monica’s parents would throw both girls out of the house for this one.
Mr. and Mrs. Echevarria tried to pretend that they were not aware of the late nights and drinking, both convincing themselves that the girls were still virgins. This guy could shatter that finely crafted illusion, landing Monica and Carla in the street or on a plane back to Ecuador.
Carla jumped out of her skin with Monica’s nails leaving gashes in her flesh like a Siamese cat.
“What the hell Monica.” Carla was disoriented and shaking from all the alcohol in her system. Her eyes were swollen near shut and caked with melted mascara.
Monica spun her around forcibly and pointed like a woman possessed at the young naked guy tangled in Carla’s rose petal print sheets.
“Ay Dios mio. What time is it? Are they up yet? Oh God! Quick! Push him out the window!”
“Keep your voice down or Mami will come up here. We have to get rid of this buey.” Monica was pulling at her hair and trying to come up with a solution.
“Papi will be leaving for work after breakfast, we need to get Mami out of the house and have this guy leave then. He has got to be kept quiet and out of sight until then.”
“Carla nodded in agreement with the plan”
The girls had to come up with a way to get Marta Echevarria out of the house. Maria never went anywhere unless it was absolutely necessary.
“Let’s offer to go to early confession with her. We can be out of here in less than two hours.” Monica’s suggestion seemed to relieve Carla.
“Okay. Wake him up while I take a shower.” Carla was looking around for her robe and caught her breath when Monica slapped her hard in the face.
“No bitch. This is your problem you wake it up and explain the plan, while I take a shower. Pendeja!”
Monica closed her eyes and enjoyed the perfume scented steam as the shower beat down upon her shoulders. She smiled because she knew that Carla would be taking a cold shower shortly. Her long hair was washed and conditioned and her skin scrubbed with shower gel. She could feel the water losing its heat. She sighed audibly and turned off the water.
Her hair wrapped in a towel and her body bundled in a thick terry robe, Monica headed to her room. She stopped outside of Carla’s door and could hear the sound of a whispered argument. She was glad this guy wasn’t the yelling type. Of course, if Carla got caught, she could explain that the girls had split up last night and she did not know about the guy in Carla’s bed. Her parents would be mad that the girls were out alone at night, but that fight would preferable to the alternative.
Monica dressed in a pink Nike wind suit that still looked brand new with matching socks, cap, and Nike athletic shoes. She wore her gold hoops, four gold rings and her large gold crucifix. She put the cap on her head after she had brushed and oiled her thick, dripping, black locks. Her hair was always curly when wet and looked great when she oiled it lightly. She looked like a model, dressy even in a wind suit. Lastly, she wrapped her white beaded rosary around her wrist and put her watch on the opposite wrist.
Monica looked down the hall and could her giggling from the bathroom. “What an idiot!” Monica shook her head and headed downstairs to keep her parents occupied until Carla came down.

Carla began poking David to wake him up and explain the situation. She was in a foul mood, with her hangover and the slap she had received from Monica.


“Buenos días.” Monica greeted her parents with a million dollar smile.
Her father, Jose, looked up from his plate and asked what the noise was upstairs.
“No se. I don’t know. I didn’t hear anything. Carla was hard to wake up this morning; maybe that’s what your heard.”
“Quien sabe?” Jose Echevarria mumbled as he folded a tortilla and bit into it and followed with a mouthful of fried potatoes.
“Mami, can I help you?” Monica grabbed the plate of radishes and lettuce to place it on the table.
“I am done. Where is Carla?” Marta sat down after looking around the kitchen to determine if anything was amiss.
“She is in the shower. You know how late she is.” Monica always pointed out flaws in her cousin’s character. This was normal in the Echevarria household. Carla was accepted as a member of the immediate family, but it was always to some extent grudgingly.
They began eating as a family. Monica was gulping down large amounts of sweet coffee made with sugar, cinnamon, cocoa mix, and milk. Honestly, the best coffee she had ever had. She relished the taste of cabbage, pork, and rice in the empanada. It was crunchy and perfect to clear her head. She ate two empanadas, radish salad and fried potatoes.
Carla woke David and did her best to explain the situation to him. He was immature and wanted to just run out of the house. Carla did manage to talk him out of that plan, using an invitation to shower with her as an incentive not to bolt.
They were in danger of discovery ever moment that they spent in the bathroom, but Carla took full advantage of the situation. She made up her mind that she needed to find her own place to live. She liked to have men stay the night, but in order to move out she would need to get a job. That was not a prospect that appealed to her.
Carla finally made it to the kitchen table 20 minutes later, wearing tight red jeans and a white off-the-shoulder silk blouse. She was also wearing big gold hoops, a crucifix, and a gold name plate necklace that said CARLITA. She was adorned with five gold rings, the largest an initial C ring that Monica gave her for Christmas.
The rest of the family was finishing up with breakfast as Carla sat down, to a chorus of silence.
“Tía, would you like to go to confession with me and Monica and then do some shopping and have lunch?” Carla waited for the answer with a mouth full of food and a lung full of held breath.
“Si Mami. Go with us. We haven’t spent time together in a long time.” Monica joined in, trying to look angelica and pleading, while feeling desperate and almost hoping that her mother said no. She was surprised to realize that the danger and possible ensuing drama actually appealed to her in a perverse way. It really thrilled her; she felt perverse and thought, “Maybe I should be going to confession”.
Maria could see the unholy light shining in the girls’ eyes. She knew that they hadn’t been to confession in months. They pretended to go, but didn’t. Maria spoke with Padre Juan at the church, and knew it to be true. She hadn’t said anything, and kept that information in the “if I ignore it then it isn’t really true” file, along with her hope that they still had their virginity.
Carla and Monica tried to appear to be more interested in their food than the question yet to be answered. They were terrified that Marta would decline the offer. Finally, with a smile Marta answered, “Si, Let’s go. Let me get my purse and Bible”
The girls were all smiles but still worried that David would be discovered upstairs.
Jose grabbed his lunch from the counter and called to Marta, “Marta! Voy!”, and then went out the door to work.
A few minutes later the girls and Marta were also leaving the house, to attend confession. David could sneak out and the girls’ reputations with Jose and Marta would remain intact.


La Iglesia


Marta, Monica and Carla arrived at their church, Santa Maria de Paz, and solemnly entered the fragrant, comforting building.
Carla was moved by the sight of the stained glass blazing with the sunlight from outside, in a way that always left her on the verge of tears.
Monica, on the other hand, felt bothered by the darkness and simply felt obliged to attend.
Marta moved with reverence as she always did, half-expecting the priests or nuns to be offended by something that she did or thought within the house of God. Marta had always felt that the church was her sanctuary, even though at times she doubted her worthiness.
The ladies joined the other parishioners awaiting their time with the priest for confession. In all, the number waiting grew to seven praying figures kneeling in the pews.
When the time can for them to enter the confessional, Carla moved quickly to be first. She always told the whole truth to the priest and figured that she would have about an hour’s worth of penance.
After an hour, the trio was ready to leave. They decided to go to a few of the local stores on 24th street, where you could find anything from beautiful wedding gowns to medicinas de Mexico, or realistic I.D. cards.
When they reached La Plaza de la Rasa, Marta scowled at the lazy men just hanging around, Monica walked as fast as she could so that they wouldn’t speak to her, and Carla’s eyes searched the groups of men for cute guys.
They spent hours shopping and enjoying the sights and smells.
The street remained busy with cars blaring music mixing into strange accordion- rap. They bought clothes from California, Mexican cosmetics, Salvadoran bread, and drank orchata to quench their thirst. The smells from the restaurants were intoxicating, with tacos, pupusas, carne asada, and frijoles refritos.
They grew hungry, even though they had just eaten very well before going to church. They bought tacos, tamales, and tortas from a taco truck by the mechanics garage.
Monica and Carla were enjoying the time so much that they almost forgot about the guy sneaking out of the house. They relaxed and figured that he must be gone by now.
By 2 o’clock, they were ready to head home. Marta was ready to start preparations for dinner and the girls wanted to take naps before getting ready to go out with Alicia.
When the arrived at the house, each grabbed their bags from the day’s shopping trip and were all feeling very close and satisfied with their reasons for going out.
Marta was the first to notice that the back door that opened into the kitchen was open and she knew that it had been locked.
Marta ran into the house and the girls who were not aware yet what was going on were sure that David had not yet left the house. They hesitated for a moment and then ran in after Marta Echevarria
Los Visitantes

The television, microwave, silver 12” tall crucifix were gone. The home was destroyed, as only a gang of thieves could destroy.
Marta was screaming and crying, 2 years worth of saving to furnish her home so that Jose could always feel proud of the hard work that he did to provide for his family. The greatest loss was the crucifix that she brought from Ecuador. How could she cook, clean, or even think. They could still be here. Marta ran for the kitchen and grabbed a knife.
The police arrived two hours later as Jose was arriving home. By that time, they had discovered many other things missing including every piece of jewelry in the house.
The police were professional, but they offered little hope that anything would be recovered or that anyone would be arrested. They didn’t even bother to speak with the neighbors to check for witnesses that may know who was there.
Jose was very quiet. He insisted that Marta, and the girls stayed in a motel for the night. He was sure that whoever had robbed them had a key. He would stay at the house in case they returned.
He went to the local 24-hour discount store and bought new locks for every door in the house.



La Soltera

Alicia received the call at 7 o’clock that Monica and Carla could not go out because the house had been robbed and they were staying at a cheap motel until Jose let them go home.
Alicia either had to stay home or go to the bar alone. After an hour, she decided to go the bar.
Earlier in the day, while putting away her clothes she put together an outfit that she thought would look great on her. It was more sophisticated. She had a multi-colored brown-with-gold thread skirt, split from the floor to above the knee. She matched it with a soft brown blouse that had a beautiful rich sheen. She wore gold sandals with a three inch heel. Feeling glamorous, Alicia swept and clipped the sides of her hair on top of her head with a large rhinestone barrette that she wore in a friends wedding back in Arizona. The look was elegant and sexy.
When Alicia arrived at La Cantina, she sat in the crowded parking lot unsure if she really wanted to enter alone. There were groups of under-age boys outside; this made her even more nervous.
At last, Alicia gathered her courage and stepped out of the car. She watched the boys watch her as she walked towards the door. A guy about 24 years-old met her at the door and asked to see her I.D. He then told her that she would need to be patted down before going in. She lifted her arms and he began running his hands down her sides.
Alicia realized that he was being a little too friendly and he was beginning to smile. At that moment she realized that he did not work for the bar, “Get your hands off me you jerk!” She stepped away from him and bolted to the door, as she heard him laughing loudly.
The mixture of darkness, smoke, and clamor was physical, like a forceful mugging of her senses. Alicia had to stop and catch her breath, but her breath was stolen by thick tobacco smoke and the distinctive smell of mota. Apparently the bar was using it as incense. He senses we overloaded and she headed to the nearest unoccupied table. She sat down and tried to be cool and was unsure where to place her eyes. She didn’t want to stare at people, but she felt like it was obvious that she was there alone.
Alicia shifted uncomfortably in her seat; she was wrestling with the desire to flee and the adrenaline of being alone at the bar. It was scary, but sinfully exciting at the same time. She fidgeted and played with her hair and wished that she had something to do with her hands. She decided to walk to the bar and order a drink. She walked with her head high and staring straight ahead, she figured that she was less of a target this way. When she got to the bar, she realized that it was packed with men, some cowboys and some just off from work. She tried to squeeze up to the bar without drawing too much attention. She spotted an older man about fifty years old and stood by him. He seemed to be ignoring her and this made her feel better. She caught the bartender’s eye and waited for his approach.
The bartender stopped in front of her and asked for her drink order.
“What can I get for you?”
“Can I have a rum and diet please?”
“Okay.” He was obviously a man of few words.
He grabbed a glass from the sink under the bar and scooped ice into it. He poured the rum liberally into the glass and then shot three spurts from the soda gun.
“Three seventy-five.” He gave Alicia an impatient, bored, waiting-for-my-money look.
“Keep the change.” Alicia handing him a five-dollar bill, took a sip of the drink.
The drink was strong, and she hoped that her courage was in there with the rum and not with the three squirts of soda. She downed the drink and felt a little like she wanted to vomit. She ordered another and drank that one as quickly, she was sure that the second was stronger than the first. Alicia ordered a third drink and felt more at ease and quite loose. Alicia looked around and didn’t see any other groups of women, but she did notice that she was being looked at by half the men in the bar. She decided it was probably a good idea to walk back to the table.
She started walking and couldn’t seem to get the rhythm right, she felt like her legs were stiff. Alicia slowed her walk a bit, finally reaching the table she eased into the chair.