A Rare Thing - Softcover

Apodaca, Rudy

Softcover

ISBN 10: 1468507249 ISBN 13: 9781468507249

Verlag: AuthorHouse, 2011

Inhaltsangabe

 &nbspA Rare Thing is a story of redemption and forgiveness. In the small New Mexico town of San Carlos in the 1950s and 60s, a motherless Chicano youngster Javier Jimenéz, finds himself forced into an early manhood. The boy's father, Nicolás, a Korean War veteran, drinks himself into the depths of alcoholism, struggling through life wallowing in self-pity. Javier tries his best to cope not only with his own loneliness but the day-to-day hardships of living with an alcoholic father.  &nbspInto this setting enters Deborah Perkins. She moves into Javier's neighborhood. Javier and Deborah eventually fall in love, much to the chagrin of Deborah's mother, who doesn't' share her husband's fascination for Southwestern culture and believes her daughter can do much better than what Javier has to offer.  &nbspTragedy strikes, and Javier moves to California to live with an aunt and uncle. Deborah and he struggle to continue their relationship despite the distance and Deborah's mother's prejudices. Confused and unsure of his future, Javier leaves college to join the Army and ends up in Vietnam, where he sees his fellow soldiers dying every day.  &nbspReminiscing about his father, he must face his own mortality, as he grapples with his own identity. Nicolás's spirit appears at a critical moment with words to give Javier strength. Contemplating the real possibility of his death, he reconciles with himself, gaining strength from visions of his father as a good man who had his share of bad luck. Javier comes to grips with whether he has forgiven him for his frailties and failure as a parent.

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A RARE THING

A NovelBy Rudy Apodaca

AuthorHouse

Copyright © 2012 Rudy Apodaca
All right reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-4685-0724-9

Chapter One

1955—San Carlos, New Mexico

MAMÁ led me by the hand out of mass. It was a sun- filled Sunday morning and a beautiful spring day. The fragrance of flowers blooming in the church's garden and the coolness of the air swept my face as we walked outside, the sweet smell competing with the fresh scent of Mamá's soft skin.

She smiled when she spotted two friends along the side of the main exit to Our Lady of Guadalupe Catholic Church. They stood talking near a stucco wall separating the south side of the church entrance from the lush courtyard filled with flowers alongside the church rectory and the priests' living quarters.

Still holding on to me, with her loose hand Mamá waved at the two women and walked the short distance to greet them.

"Hola, comadres," she said. "My dear friends." She let go of me to shake hands.

Next to the two shorter women, Mamá looked striking. Her high cheekbones and dark brown eyes that Daddy so admired glowed in the bright morning sun.

"Buenos días, Piedad," the taller of the two said.

Piedad was Mamá's middle name, which she went by instead of her given name, Maria. A common name in Mexico, where she was born, Piedad meant piety in Spanish.

Mamá turned to me and said in Spanish, "Stay close by, Javier, while I chat a little."

I was christened Xavier Quijana Ximénez, Quijana being Mamá's maiden name. Born and raised in Mexico, she liked the Mexican spelling of Ximénez, pronounced with a soft "J". I had trouble writing the X, so my parents let me use the American spelling, Javier Jiménez.

"And I don't want you wandering off," she added.

I frowned to let her know I wasn't looking forward to the boredom that was sure to come when the "little" chat turned into a big chat. Although only five, I had been in this fix before—ladies going on with their chatter of things I cared little about.

Standing only inches from Mamá, I fidgeted for awhile. They spoke fast, which wasn't hard to do in Spanish. Although I understood the language as well as English, I wasn't the least bit interested in what they were saying. So I began looking for things to do.

A narrow, brick path led through the gardens in the courtyard into the sacristy behind the church. Fancy wrought-iron spikes stood atop the four-foot wall, rising another four feet. They were bolted to the wall and welded together by metal bars running along the bottom and top near the spikes' tips.

I loved climbing the wall and holding onto the spikes as I moved along the edge. I especially enjoyed the view of the green courtyard on the other side. It was filled with evergreens, blooming flowers, and gigantic cottonwood and mulberry trees spreading their shade on the greenery below.

In the past, I entered the courtyard by first climbing the wall and by following its curve until it ended at the yard's gated entrance. The wall was high enough to get me into the yard even when the gate was locked.

Both climbing the wall and the courtyard were off limits to me. I knew that well, for Mamá had often warned me, explaining I'd get hurt if I fell—especially if I landed on my head.

Yet, the quietness of the greenery called out to me. In a matter of seconds, I found myself on top of the wall. Holding on tightly to the spikes so as not to lose my grip, I moved along as fast as I could.

Twice before, I had sneaked away from Mamá into the yard to hide behind the heavy undergrowth. It was my own little secret world. The fact that no one was allowed to play in the yard probably had something to do with my need to go there.

That one day, though, long before I rounded the corner out of sight, Mamá spotted me.

She was right behind me in a flash. I could actually feel her there even before I turned my head. I knew I was in real trouble the minute our eyes met. If looks could kill, I died a thousand times right then and there.

She lifted me by the shoulders and whipped me around to face her.

"I've told you before, young man." She pointed her long finger just inches from my face and shook it. "You're never to climb this wall!"

I couldn't remember when I'd seen her so angry.

She continued her sharp words. "Do you understand me, Javier?"

I was so stunned by the sudden change in her that for a few seconds I couldn't get the words out. She hadn't ever lost her cool like that.

"Do – you – un – der – stand?" She shook me by the shoulders.

"Yes, Mamá," I finally managed to utter.

She let go of me. "All right then."

Taking me by the hand, she turned back toward her friends and forced a smile. She rolled her eyes as if to say that as mothers themselves they'd understand her frustration. Giving them a quick wave and forcing another smile, she pulled me hard by the arm as she led me away for the walk home.

I began to cry.

"You shouldn't have done that." I spoke through my cries, wiping the tears away with my loose hand. "You hurt my feelings."

"You mean I embarrassed you in front of everyone, is that it?"

I nodded, wiping my tears. "Uh huh."

"I don't like scolding you in public either, Javier, but you gave me no choice." She stopped and turned me to face her. She squatted down. "It's the only way you'll learn to mind your padre and me. We do such things for your own good."

She looked away as if to give me time for her words to sink in. "You understand that, don't you, mijo?"

I stopped crying and looked her in the eye. Then I shrugged, not wanting to admit that I really did understand.

She shook her head, upset at me for my stubbornness. Getting up, she tried to take my hand, but I kept pulling away.

I walked alongside her. "I'm mad at you." As if she didn't already know.

"Be angry, then." She sighed. "As long as you learn to obey your padres, you can stay mad at me forever if that's what you want."

For a few days afterward, still very much wanting to show Mamá that she embarrassed me, I moped when she was around. I spoke only when spoken to.

During those days, Daddy was away hunting with two friends. The day before he was to return, I made up my mind that when he showed up, it wasn't going to change things for me. I'd keep on sulking until Mamá apologized for scolding me in public.

I could tell she understood what was going on for me but chose to ignore it.

Twice—when she got me up in the morning and at the dinner table—she gave me a tight squeeze and kissed me on the forehead without a word, but I didn't hug her back.

Daddy got home late afternoon that day, a few hours before Mamá expected him. I was sitting in the front room playing when he walked in the front door. Mamá was fixing a pot of stew in the kitchen.

Surprised, I rushed to Daddy without thinking and gave him a big abrazo around his legs.

"Hola, Javier," he said with a big smile, squeezing me tight and lifting me up into his arms. "Daddy missed you! Did you miss him?" He hugged me.

I nodded but said nothing. I didn't even smile.

He gave me a puzzled look and put me...

Details zur Ausgabe

• Verlag: AuthorHouse
• Erscheinungsdatum: 2011
• Sprache: Englisch
• ISBN 10: 1468507249
• ISBN 13: 9781468507249
• Einband: Taschenbuch
• Anzahl der Seiten: 372
• Kontakt zum Hersteller: Nicht verfügbar
• Verantwortliche Person: gpsr@libri.de; gpsr@libri.de; ; Europaallee 1; Bad Hersfeld; 36244; Deutschland