Read Online The Memories of Ana Calderón by Graciela Limón - Free Book Online

city, I ordered a new marble headstone. I had it erected to mark the place where Jasmín, still a little girl, had lain for so many years.”

    Reyes Soto was born and raised in East Los Angeles, where he had lived all his life. He had only gone as far as the eighth grade in school, but he was able to make a good living because he could do just about anything with his hands. He could paint a house, fix its plumbing, tape a couple of wires together so that a light bulb would go on, replace or repair broken auto parts, and weld pieces of metal together so efficiently that they would stay in place, never again to split apart.
    Reyes’ main business was scouring East Los Angeles junk yards to retrieve salvageable parts and sometimes entire engines. He repaired and overhauled those things, and when he had a truckload of water and gas pumps, engine blocks, axles, pistons and rods, he headed south of the border. The huge Sonora ranch spreads were his usual marketsbecause there he had built up a solid reputation for his goods. Whatever parts Reyes Soto sold, he stood by. The ranchers, whose tractors and irrigating equipment were in constant need of repair, knew that whatever they purchased from him worked.
    On return trips, Reyes sometimes gave one or two riders a lift up north of the border. He didn’t do this for money; the only thing he asked from passengers was to chip in for gas, and for what they bought to eat on the road. It was on one of these trips that Reyes came in contact with Rodolfo Calderón. It had happened indirectly through the words of a
campesino
who had told him of the family and of a sick child.
    In the beginning, Reyes had hesitated because he realized that they were probably running away from the
patrón
of
Rancho la Concepción
. Reyes understood the situation, but the fact that it was only one man with his hands full of kids did something to Reyes. He wanted to help.
    He agreed to ferry them north, but only as far as the Arizona side of Nogales. With Jasmín’s death, however, he became personally involved with Rodolfo and the children, and Reyes began to have doubts about leaving them behind. He had been, after all, the one who had taken the risk of running up to the Carney house looking for help. It had been he who had translated for Rodolfo and who had contacted the priest who immediately went to work with the Carneys to scrape up money and clothing for the family.
    Reyes began to think that if he left them in Nogales, the Calderón family would have no other alternative except to head east to the cotton fields of Texas, or toward Colorado to the beet harvesting. He concluded that if that happened, more than likely the rest of the children would die off one by one, just like Jasmín.
    After the funeral, Rodolfo and Reyes stood in front of the Carney house. Reyes, his head hanging low and his hands plunged into his pockets, was distractedly tapping the tip of his boot against the front tire of his truck.
    â€œLook, Señor Calderón. I never do this, and I wouldn’t except for the kids. Why don’t you come to Los Angeles with me? Things are real tough, but I know that you’ll be able to make a living for them. There’s a school where I know they can go.”
    Reyes spoke with a lilting, up and down rhythm. TheSpanish he spoke was interlaced with English words, as well as with expressions that were a combination of English and Spanish. Some of it escaped Rodolfo, but most of it was clear to him. His face, which up to that moment had been cast in sadness, lit up for a moment.
    â€œThat city is on the coast, isn’t it? I’m a fisherman, you know.”
    Letting out a shrill, whistling sound between his tongue and teeth, Reyes said, “Look,
ese
, you got it all wrong. I’m talking of East Los Angeles and, believe me, there ain’t no fishing there!” He emphasized the word
East
as if trying to engrave it on the other man’s mind.