Love,

The Third Time Around

Me and Papa

By

Lynda Doyle-Rodriguez

 Reflections:JAVIER

Mi Amigo, Mi Esposo, Mi Amor;

 My Friend, My husband, My Love;

             In January 1991, thirteen years ago, while trying to bring a wrongful death suit against the orchards for his death, I found out that Javier was still married in Mexico. He had left his country fifteen years before, but being Catholic, he never divorced. His marriage in Mexico voided our union in my country, leaving me, no longer his wife, with no legal standing, I had no right to his name, no legal right to file a  wrongful death suit, I was no longer, Lynda Doyle-Hernandez. I was heartbroken and feeling very betrayed.  Like I had done when he died, I boxed-up our life together and stored it away, letting go of the past, I put this manuscript away. Today, I am almost sixty years old, sick and feeling that my time left on this earth may be short; I dug out this manuscript and put it back together. Like Javier had wanted me to, I tried to move forward with my life. After seven years of loving the man, but not the alcohol, we separated in August of 2000; I decided that he too, was already married, married to his bottle.  In his own way, Andres loves me and we have remained friends, I just could not compete with his bottle.

            While putting this manuscript back together, I had to relive those painful

memories of the past.  I discovered that even after all these years, I have never come

to grips with his death.  Physically, I may have boxed-up our life and stored it away,

But in my mind, in my heart and in my soul, Javier’s ghost lingers still……………..

            Fifteen years ago, pesticides were not an issue for the general public.  Pesticide

poison was only an issue to farm-workers, ‘they,’ were the only ones drying from it;

I feel that in today’s world, all that has changed.

            We have, organic farms, organic fruits, organic vegetables, and bottled water;

There must be a reason that those who can afford it, even those of us who can’t, prefer

our vegetables, our fruits grown without pesticides; we prefer our milk and our meats

from grain fed cattle; society now understands the danger associated with pesticides.

            When allowed in our food supply and our drinking water, these chemicals have

been linked to cancer, heart disease, respiratory and lung disease, and a host of other

health problems.

            Pesticides are no longer the problem for a few, ‘migrant workers,’ they have

become a problem for society as a whole.  From the men and women who pick the

crops, harvesting the fruits and vegetables on America’s farms and orchards, to those

of us, like you and me, who put fruit on our cereal and vegetables on our tables.

            This book is about, the pesticides that caused Javier’s sickness and his death;

It is about those employers whom did not feel it necessary to provide a safe working

environment and it is about the man himself

            But most importantly, this manuscript is a love story.  It is a storybook romance,

It is, ‘his story,’ it is, ‘my story,’ it is, ‘our story; it is the story of how two people, from

different backgrounds, two very different lifestyles, two different races, met, became

friends and fell in love.

            “Love, The Third Time Around, Me and Papa” is the story of our short life

together as husband and wife; it is the story about how sickness then death, robbed

Javier and Lynda of a future.

            Javier was a good man, always putting the needs of others before his own.

Javier was an honest man, he never cheated anyone out of anything, though, he was

cheated many times by others, thoughts of revenge never crossed his mind; if it wasn’t

his, if he didn’t work for it, he didn’t want it.

            This Mexican/Indian husband of mine had a very simple view of life; he gave

new meaning to God’s commandment of, ‘love thy neighbor as thy self,’ following

the golden rule, ‘do unto others as you would have them do unto you.’

            After our marriage, we went out to the camp to collect the rest of his belongings.

Most of his good stuff that he had not taken with him were gone; his good Spanish tapes,

A brown western belt with its silver buckle of a cowboy roping a steer, two of his best

western shirts with pearl snaps on the cuffs and down the front.

            I became very angry over this wrong committed against him, “It’s okay mama,’

He said, “Dios saber,” (God knows), In His own time and in His own way, God would

make right whatever wrong had been done to him.

            “But papa, those were your things!” I protested, “You need to say something, you

need to get them back, no one had the right to take them!”  He pulled me into his arms,

“Its okay mi amor, (my love), whatever has been taken from me, God will take from

those who took from me.  It is not my job to pay back, it is God’s job.”

            His dark brown eyes were filled with pain; he was hurt to think that those he had

once considered his friends would steal from him.  “Mucho dolor mi corazon,”

(A lot of pain in my heart), “But its okay, if they need it more then me, they can have it.

“I don’t need it, I have you.”

            Javier gathered up whatever stuff he had left and we left the camp.  That is the

kind of man he was.

            When I married Javier on May 2, 1989, I did not marry for wealth or material

things of value.  Javier could not have given me any of those things.  I was looking for

more then material possessions, I was searching for love; something I had felt cheated

out of during the course of my life.

            In a lonely man, a poor man by the world’s standards, a man who made his

living by following the crops, my heart found the love it had been seeking.  Our short

life together was a storybook romance. Javier was, mi amigo, mi esposo, y mi amor;

(My friend, my husband and my love).

            Javier’s love tore down the walls I had built around my heart; his love took

away the anger and knocked the chip off my shoulder that I had carried for so long.

            When I married Javier on May 2, 1989, I did not marry for wealth and things of

material value.  Javier could not have given me any of those things.  No, when I married

mi amigo, and mi amor, (my friend and my love), I had been searching for something

much more valuable then material wealth, I had been searching for love.

            In a lonely and poor man, my heart found what it had been seeking, it found

love, something I felt I had been cheated out of during the course of my life.  Javier

taught me to open my heart, to trust again without the fear of being hurt, and by

refusing to sleep with me until he had placed that gold band on my finger, he taught

me to value my self worth.

            Javier carried within his heart and within his spirit a goodness that has forever

changed my life for the better.  I feel blessed to have been chosen by God, to have

shared the last few months of his life.  And I would not have missed that for all the

world and its wealth.  If I could go back in time, I would marry him all over again.

            Within those short eight months of marriage, Javier gave me his most prized

possession, he gave to me that, which can never be measured by the worlds standards;

He gave me, himself.

            Javier had no family in this country, like me, his memories were full of pain

and sadness.  When we first met in February of 1989, his life consisted of hard work followed by weekends of hard drinking.

            The alcohol of his choice was, ‘Budweiser beer,’ yet no matter how much he

would drink, he never became mean or nasty, Javier controlled the beer, he did not

let the beer control him.

            As our friendship deepened, slowly giving way to romance, then into love,

Javier found the courage to let go of the sadness of his past, and to let go of the beer.

            As we stood before our friends and my son, on that second day of May, 1989,

making our commitment to each other, Javier became a changed man, the sadness

of past memories was forgotten, he was happy to be alive, and laughter danced again

those dark Spanish eyes.

DOCUMENTING THE SICKNESS;

August 1989;

While Javier, my sister Carol and I, were picking tomatoes in the field in Martinsburg,

West VA.  Javier grabbed his chest, I rushed him to, Martinsburg City Hospital.

Diagnosis; Heart Attack:

August 22, 1989;

Follow up exam;

Diagnosis:  Coronary Heart Disease; Cardiovascular Disease;

Pulmonary Function Test / Results of chest x-rays,

Martinsburg City Hospital

Diagnosis;

Chronic Obstructive Pulmonary Disease;

Result of; Pesticide exposure

Consistent with Symptoms; Clubbing of the nail beds of his fingernails;

Loose sounding but unproductive cough.

September 1989;

Javier collapsed in the orchard, St. Thomas, PA. Rushed to;

Chambersburg Hospital, Chambersburg PA.

Diagnosis: Coronary Heat Disease/ Pulmonary Cardiovascular Disease;

Unknown Bacterial Infection;

Note; Javier spent thirty days in Chambersburg Hospital, his doctors there

felt he needed a heart specialist, and when they could not find the source

of the bacterial infection, he was transferred to Hershey, PA.

October 1989; The Milton S. Hershey Medical Center, Hershey, PA.

Diagnosis:  Coronary Heart Disease/ Chronic Pulmonary Disease;

Bacterial infection; Diagnosis; Scarcoidosis.

Note; Left untreated scaroidosis forms bacterial infection, this infection

ate away at the Aorta Valve of Javier’s heart, the valve needed to be replaced.

October 1989; The Operation;

The operation to replace the Aorta Valve took 12 hours, it was a success,

He spent 10 days in ICU (intensive care unit), in the middle of October,

his kidneys failed, he was put on dialysis..

November 1989;

Milton S. Hershey Medical Center; Javier had a stroke;

Diagnosis:

Mild stroke, but it left Javier partially paralyzed on his right side, unable

to bathe, feed himself, dress himself, he would need rehabilitation.

December 1, 1989;

Chambersburg Hospital had an excellent Rehabilitation Program;

Javier was transferred back to Chambersburg; we were going home,

Almost.

December 2, 1989;

Javier was admitted to the rehab program, he was doing well, learning

to feed himself, to walk again, to bathe and do everyday tasks.  Both

of us were excited and happy, we thought for sure that he’d be home

for Christmas.

December 11, 1989:

While in Rehab, Javier had another crisis, without warning his blood

pressure dropped too low no matter how hard the doctors tried, Javier

died.

Autopsy Report;

Cause of death; Cardiac Failure/ Secondary to Hem pericardium and

Cardiac Tamponada; related to Chronic Congestive Heart Failure/ Congestive

Changes in the lungs.

Documenting The Reason Behind The Sickness;

UNSAFE WORKING ENVIRONMENTS;

Spring 1988; Martinsburg, West VA.

While working for the same employer, (I have chosen not to reveal the name of the employers involved); he was employed by when we first met, Javier rode the back of a tractor, spraying the apple trees with pesticides.  He wore no protective clothing, no gloves, not even a simple mask that would have protected his lungs.

April 1989; Winchester, VA.

Javier, along with a crew of men, pruned trees while pesticides were being sprayed

in the same block of trees where the men were working; Again, the same story, none

of the men were wearing protective clothing.  The air was thick with the spray, some

of the men were getting sick, vomiting; they did not want to continue working.

But were told, ‘if they didn’t keep working, they would not have employment.’

Under the threat of being fired, they kept working.

June 1989; Charles Town, W.VA;

While planting tomatoes, Javier and the others drank the water from the same

hose being used to irrigate the tomatoes.

It was a hot day and there was not water provided in the field, No one had warned

them that the water in the hose was filled with pesticides; they didn’t know until

the end of the day, when the employer found the men had been drinking the water

from the hose, his wife gave them, milk to drink; the employer said, “Its okay, don’t

worry you’ll be all right.” But my husband wasn’t, ‘all right,’ he died.

‘The Migrant Worker’

This poem is dedicated to the memory of;

Javier Ramirez Hernandez;

December 11, 1989;

Para tu mi amor, Para tu;

For you my love, for you;

‘Mi Amigo, Mi Espouso, Mi Amor;

My friend, My husband, My Love;

The Migrant Worker

From field to field he wanders,

From camp to camp he roams..

Never knowing a place to call..

Home…………………………

From the orange groves of …...

Sunny California to hot sand…

Beneath Florida grapefruit……

Trees…………………………..

From field to field he wanders..

From camp to camp he roams...

Never knowing a place to call...

Home………………………….

From sandy Florida to the…….

Tobacco fields of the Carolina’s

From sizzling heat of Southern..

Sun’s…………………………..

To frigid cold of Northern hills

The migrant worker…………..

‘The Migrant Worker’

From the Carolina’s to the apple

Orchards of West Virginia……..

Virginia and Pennsylvania……..

The migrant worker…………...

From field to field he wanders...

From camp to camp he roams…

Never knowing a place to call...

Home…………………………..

His labor is hard, his pay is low

His housing shameful an unfit...

The migrant worker…………...

Looking across the farms and…

Fields of this great country, you

Will see them there, planting and

Picking, harvesting the crops …

Climbing the trees, the migrant

Worker, breathing in dust and...

Sprays, pesticides that one-day..

Will take his life………………

At the age of 49 his work is…..

Done, his labor finished; he….

Has no more borders to cross...

No more fields to harvest….…

As friends and family lower….

His body into a pauper’s……..

Grave, will the world care that,

Pesticides took his life………

Only a few baskets of flowers

Litter his grave, he was not a,

King or a man of wealth, only

A migrant worker…………...

Whose life ended too soon….

‘The Migrant Worker’

From field to field he wanders,

From camp to camp he roams..

Never knowing a place to call,

Home………………………....

When the harvest is finished…

The season is done, he moves..

On; the migrant worker, from..

Field to field he wanders…….

From camp to camp he roams

Searching for better crops…...

Higher pay, decent housing…

The migrant worker…………

From field to field he wanders

From camp to camp he roams,

Searching out the elusive……

American Dream…………….

From field to field he wanders

From camp to camp he roams,

Never knowing a place to call,

Home………………………...

‘Love The Third Time Around,’

Me and Papi

By

Lynda Doyle-Rodriguez

Chapter 1

The Beginning:

            Lynn had been married twice, divorced twice, and she had been left broken

hearted by both relationships.  She had invested thirteen years in her first marriage to

Charles the father of her four children, two girls and two boys.  And in the end, all those

years had been wasted, just to have him turn his back on them.  Leaving Lynn and their

four children standing on the front porch of their home in Augusta, West Virginia, in

1975, crying after him as he walked away.

            After two years of being alone, Lynn thought she’d try it again; what she didn’t

know was that this, ‘mamma’s country boy,’ didn’t know anything and couldn’t do

anything and didn’t want to learn anything.  if Lynn had taken the blinders from her

eyes, she would have seen the relationship for what it was, not as she had wanted it to

be; but she either didn’t see it, or didn’t want to see it.  It was one of the worst mistakes

Lynn had ever made in her life.

            Whatever jobs he did work where few and only for his own spending money.

Lynn worked hard providing for her children, like rent, electric, food, transportation

And whatever else it took, their father never helped and country boy had just come

along for the ride; why Lynn had put up with it for seven long years was a question

she had no answer for.

            During those years Lynn tried to improve her education by going to college.

The end came when Lynn found out that he had abused her children.  He had a shotgun

in the closet, one night as he lay sleeping, Lynn took the shotgun down from the shelf,

as he lay sleeping, Lynn was tempted to shatter whatever brain cells he had across the

room; instead she grabbed her children and ran, leaving him with everything she had

worked for; but the safety of her children was more important than the material

possessions she left behind.

            It had taken years for her to rebuild her life, but now that children were grown,

the two girls with families of their own, and Charles her oldest son was busy making

his own way in the world; Shawn her youngest was the only child still with her.  It was

1989 and Lynn was busy too, trying to make the most out of the sour grapes life had

handed her.

            Her sister Carol was talking about, ‘love,’ and how Lynn needed to, ‘find it,’

again; how Lynn needed, ‘a man in her life,’ to make her feel wanted and needed.

            “Yeah right,” Lynn laughed, “I don’t need a man to make me complete and

whole, I’m doing just fine thank you.”

“One-day,” Carol said,” Love will come around for the third time,” she prophesied.

“When hell freezes over dear sister,” Lynn said, “When hell freezes over.”

            Carol was good at that, at making predictions, and it was uncanny how at times,

her sister’s words had a way of ringing true.  But not this time, this was one prophecy

that would never come to pass. 

            If it was the last thing Lynn needed or wanted, it was a man in her life.

Lynn and Shawn were doing just fine; she didn’t need or want any man coming along

messing with her head, to stir up her emotions, to fool around with her heart, then

stomp on it and render it into shreds.  And when the relationship was over, leaving

Lynn to pick up the broken and fragmented pieces

            It had been five years since her divorce from, ‘country boy,’ and angry over

the way life had treated her; Lynn vowed that she would never again be used, mistreated

and betrayed; she vowed never again to give away her heart only to have it torn into

shreds, and allow herself to be tossed aside like an old shoe that didn’t fit anymore.

            Brick by brick, Lynn had learned to erect walls around her heart and around her

emotions; and within those years of loneliness Lynn never let anyone come close enough

to touch the walls she had built around her heart, let alone tear them down.

            Lynn had been working to provide a home for herself and her son, but just three

years into her new life, fate threw her another curve, she became disabled.  It almost

killed Lynn when she had to stop working.

            “Neuropathy from diabetes,” the doctor had explained, “Neuropathy is nerve

damage, it’s in your feet and legs.”

“What happens now?” Lynn asked, “What can be done to fix the damage?”

Doctor Life shook his head, knowing Lynn did not understand, he tried to explain it

to her.

            “There is nothing we can do,” he said, “Your nerve endings are dead,

They are frayed like electric wires, only electric wires can be taped, nerve endings

cannot, I’m sorry but your prognosis for recovery is zero.”  Lynn still didn’t

understand.  She had one more question for doctor life;

“Prognosis for recovery is zero, what does this mean doctor?  What are you telling

me?”

            “Eventually,” he said,” I’d say within the next five years, once you lose all

the feeling in your limbs, you could end up facing the rest of your life in a wheel

chair, I’m sorry.”

            Lynn was stunned, she left the doctor’s office in anger; she wasn’t angry at

the doctor, she was angry at life itself.  Looking up the sky, she wanted to scream and

shake her fist, “Thanks,” she yelled, “Thanks for nothing!”  She had was question for

God, hadn’t she been through enough already?  Why did she have to suffer this physical

disability and pain too?

            Lynn kept asking the power to be, God, why me? But apparently, God had chosen

not to answer, her pleas to take away the pain had also fallen on deaf ears.  Heaven was

not listening; and it seemed to Lynn that life was out to drag her down.  The pain was

endless, night after night, day after day, muscle spasms would draw her legs into tight

knots; every time her nerve endings would jump, it sent searing pain down her legs into

her feet.  When the pain became too much for her to deal with, Lynn would double up

on the pain medicine, Amitriplyine and Neurontin Doctor Life had prescribed. But in the

morning Lynn was groggy, unstable and unable to function.  Lynn would drag herself

out of bed, make coffee, yell for Shawn to get up and she’d fall back to sleep.  She was

sleeping her life away, and Shawn was on his own, doing whatever he felt like doing.

            If he felt like attending school, he get up and go, if he didn’t, he’d skip.

Lynn couldn’t let this continue, she had to do something, but Lynn had become

dependant on the pain medicine.  Shawn was out raising hell and getting into trouble.

Lynn was growing tired of sleeping her life away and not being able to take care of her

son.  Six months into the disability, Lynn stopped taking the Amitriplyine, she cut back

on the Neurontin.  Lynn would force herself out of bed; she would force her legs to

move, she learned to walk out the muscle spasms.  The pain was part of her everyday

life.  And like she had done so many times in the past, she would do again; she would

force herself to deal with the pain and move forward.

            What she had been living the past six months wasn’t life, she had been existing,

taking up space, and wasting away.  Once Lynn started taking control again, Shawn was

not a happy camper, but that too, was life, and he would learn to deal with it.

            Lynn had Carol to thank for her new outlook on life.  Carol had came to Lynn,

telling her what was happing with Shawn, and the trouble he was getting into. At first,

Lynn became angry with her sister, “Go off the pain medicine!” she yelled, “You

wouldn’t say that if it were your pain.  If you had to live with it everyday.”

            “I know, but if you don’t try, Shawn is getting into so much trouble he is

headed for jail, you have to take control again; and to do that; you have to be able to

function.” she said, “I know the pain must be terrible, but sis, you have try and deal

with it.  You’re letting this disease defeat you, and that’s not my sister.  You always

fought everything life has thrown your way, but I see you giving up.  And Susan

can’t control him, he needs his mother, not his sister and not his aunt.  And I need

you sis, I got another job in the orchards and I need transportation.”

            Lynn was groggy, but she was awake and able to function.  “Thanks sis,

you have always had a way of getting my attention.”  When Shawn came in that day he

found his mother awake, he had skipped school again, and Lynn laid down the rules.

            “This is the way it’s going to be,” she said, “You are going to school, even if

I have to drive you.  I realize I haven’t been much of a mother these last six months.

You’ve been skipping school and running the streets and doing whatever you wanted

to do, but no more son, no more, I am back, and I am taking charge.”

            Shawn rolled his eyes, “And if I don’t listen?”

“Simple, if you don’t want to listen to me, I’ll put you someplace where you will listen.”

“You’d really do that?”

“Try me.” Lynn answered.

“Okay,” he said with an attitude, “but I liked it better when you took your medicine.”

Lynn had to laugh at that, “I guess you do,” she laughed. 

            The next morning, when Lynn got up she was not groggy, she drove Shawn to

school and then drove her sister to the orchards.

Chapter 2

            Most of the guys Carol worked with were Mexican migrants; most were young,

handsome very charming, and half of them did not speak a word of English.  They were

also in need of transportation to and from town; Lynn became the local taxi service.

            Most of them spoke very little English, but there was always someone around

who knew enough English to interpret.  Being a taxi service had it advantages, her gas

tank was always full.

            It was a hard lifestyle these guys lived, they would rise up at 4; am, to be in the

field at 5: am.  The workweek was hard, but when Saturday night rolled around, it was

party time. 

            In the beginning, Lynn would run three or four of the guys into town for food

and beer and whatever else they needed; someone would always fill her gas tank,

Lynn never had to ask.

            Lynn would drop her sister off in the mornings and return in the evening to

pick her up.  One Saturday evening while she was waiting for Carol, a tall, good-looking

Mexican asked her in broken English to come inside and eat, he opened the door to her

car, “por favor,” (please).    He said it so sweetly that to refuse would have been rude.

            Someone was cooking beans, rice and tortillas, the food smelled good, and Lynn

was hungry. “Esta, (this) burrito, con (with) meat with cheese, for you.”

“Is for you,” he said.  Lynn said thank you and took the food.  “thank you in Spanish is,

‘gracias,’ he was trying to teach her Spanish, ‘gracias,’ Lynn repeated, he smiled and

walked away.  Lynn couldn’t help but look, he was an older man and very attractive.

            Stop it Lynn, she fussed, Lynn didn’t want to stop thinking about it, it had been

a long time since Lynn had been with a man, almost five years, and for some strange

reason, this one attracted her attention. 

            Lynn sat and ate while Carol danced and drank a few beers,  it was offered to

her, but she politely refused, Lynn wasn’t much of a drinker.  Lynn had not sat too

long when Carol pulled her to her feet, “Come on, get up and dance,” she said,

pushing Lynn into the waiting arms of a boy young enough to be her son.  Lynn

was embarrassed, but she had no choice but to try and follow his footsteps to the

lively, festive Spanish music blasting from the stereo.

            Every time Lynn would try to sit down, someone would ask her to dance.

Lynn had almost forgotten how much fun it was to dance and have a good time.

When her disability had stopped her from working, Lynn had sank into a deep

depression and hidden herself away from the world.  But tonight the music made

her feel alive.  She had sat down again when a soft voice whispered in her ear, he spoke

in Spanish, then repeated the words in English.

            “Tu querer baile? (do you want to dance.)? Lynn looked up into a dark, smiling

face, and into the darkest eyes she had ever seen.  She checked out the man behind the

face.  He was tall and slender and wore a headband wrapped around his forehead, with

A, ‘Budweiser,’ logo printed across the front.  Strands of gray mixed with black peeked

out from under the headband.  But when drew Lynn’s attention and kept it, were the eyes.

            The eyes were so dark they looked almost black, they were like the eyes of a

puppy, lost and sad.  It was the same older gentleman that had leaned over her car door,

asking her to come inside and had fixed her the burrito.  Lynn smiled, he had cleaned up

nicely, she thought.  He lowered his lean frame into a chair beside her, “maybe you no

understand,” he said, in broken English.

            But Lynn understood every word he had spoken, over the last three months,

Lynn had become an expert at translating broken English into English she could

understand.  He took her hand and held it, making her stare into those dark eyes.

            “Mi nombre, ‘Javier,’ he said, (my name is Javier), “mi amigo’s call mi,

‘Indio,’ mi amiga’s call mi, papa.” Which translated into English meant, (his male

friends called him, Indio, and the ladies called him, papi.’  Papi or papa is like a

grandfather figure.

            As a slow song filled the room, gently, he pulled Lynn to her feet.

“Come, we dance.”  Lynn could not refuse, the eyes held her spellbound.  Lynn

moved slowly into his waiting arms.

            They danced well together, he led and Lynn had no trouble following his

lead.  His strong arms were warm, comforting and inviting, Lynn melted into arms,

and if the music had not stopped, Lynn could have stayed in his arms forever.

            “My name is Javier Ramirez Hernandez,” he said, holding her body close to his.

he leaned down and kissed her on the lips, “Call me, papi.”  His kiss was sweet, soft

and tender, not hungry or demanding.  He wanted nothing from her, just to hold her

close and dance.  But from the way he held her body so close to his, left Lynn with the

impression, that he was missing someone special from his life.

            Dancing so close was stirring up feelings in Lynn that had been laying dormant

for over five years.  Lynn couldn’t help but wonder who he was missing, was it a

girlfriend, or wife maybe?  As if reading her thoughts, he leaned down and whispered

softly in her ear.  “Mi esposa,” he said, “my wife, but many years ago, muchos

anos, no more wife, no more,” he whispered.

            In almost perfect English, he said, “ I could dance with you forever, until the

the night is no more.”  His words were soft, caring and kind, and when the music

stopped, he led her to a chair.  Carol and a young guy in the corner, were getting too

friendly.  Javier had noticed it too.

            “My friends drink too much,” he said, he kissed Lynn again, the dark pools of

his eyes seemed to hold her in a hypnotic trance, even if she had wanted to, Lynn

could not have pulled herself away.

            Picking up Lynn’s jacket and placing it around her shoulders, he said,

“I don’t want no trouble for you and your sister, my friend is too drunk, maybe it is better

you and your sister go now.”  He did not say it to be rude, with just two women in a camp

with many men, he was worried about their safety.  Lynn understood, she motioned for

Carol, and he walked them to her car.  “Tomorrow,” he said, giving her another kiss..

            As Lynn turned the car onto the main road, her sister glanced at her, a sparkle

of gleam lit the pools of bright blue eyes.  Lynn almost knew what Carol was going to

say, before she said it.

            “Looks like someone else was having a good time too.” She laughed, “And

from the looks of it, he was more than a little bit interested, sister.”  The comment was

Carol’s way of fishing for information.

            “His name is Javier Hernandez, he said not to call him Javier, but to call him,

Papi.”  Lynn looked at her sister and grinned, “Don’t say it,” Lynn warned, “Don’t

go there.”  But Lynn knew her sister and there was no way that Carol would let the

subject drop. 

            “Before I don’t go there,” Carol said, “Do you like him?”

“You know the answer to that,” Lynn said,  “And, I’m not talking about it.”  Carol

laughed, she had a way of laughing that sometimes almost drove Lynn crazy.  It was

like, ‘I told you so,’ a glance, a look, that let Lynn know, that she, Carol, had been right,

or that she knew something Lynn didn’t know.  And sometimes Carol was right; and

that is what would almost drive Lynn crazy.

            Just knowing that Carol had figured it out before Lynn had a chance to think

about it; before Lynn had the chance to run it past her emotions, before she had time

to mull everything over in her mind, Carol had an answer.  It was in the way she

would shrug her shoulder or the sly smile, which spread across her face.

            “Okay,” Carol said, as Lynn pulled up in front of her sister’s house.  “I’ll

be good,” she said.  Lynn laughed, “That will be the day.”  And she pulled away

from the curb.  As she drove home, Lynn tried to keep her attention on her driving, on

the traffic, trying, without much success, to keep her mind off of the man behind the

dark black eyes. Lynn had laughed, danced, and had a good time, and that was the end

of it, period.

            But the man behind the dark, black eyes, invaded her sleep and haunted her

dreams; Lynn was running through the woods, people she didn’t know were chasing her.

Suddenly, out of nowhere, appeared a horse, it’s rider swooped down and lifted her up,

and like the ending of a fairytale, they rode off into the sunset.

            Lynn shook herself awake, out of the dream, she laughed,  “Better watch out

for that Mexican food old girl,” Lynn smiled.  But those dark black eyes continued to

haunt her thoughts.

            Lynn thought of how easy it would have been to just let go, to melt into those

strong arms wrapped tightly around her waist, and to stay there forever; safe, secure,

happy and loved.  But Lynn knew no matter how much he might haunt her dreams, that

it could never be; she could never have a relationship with this man or any man.

            Happy endings were nothing more than fairy tales; fairy tales made for naive

little girls and Hollywood movies.  No matter how much he haunted her thoughts,

they could only be friends; as friends, Lynn would hang out, dance and party, but

there could never be anything else between them.

            But Lynn had gotten the impression that Javier, was looking for more than

friendship.  Lynn could sense it; in the way he had pulled her close as they had danced;

In the way he had held her hand, in the way he had kissed her, and in the way he had

protected her, by making her leave the camp when his friends had gotten drunk and

rowdy.  No, whoever Javier was, he was different from any man Lynn had known.

            Lynn didn’t see him when she dropped Carol off the next morning.  When

she went back to pick Carol up in the afternoon, there he was, leaning his lanky frame

against the side of the building, it was as if he’d been waiting for her.

            “You can take me to the store, please?” he asked in perfect English.  Lynn

felt a little scared to be alone with him, not scared of the man, but of her own feelings

and emotions.  But Lynn could not refuse him this small favor.  “Get in,” she replied.

            Lynn drove in silence to the little country store a few miles down the road, she

waited in the car while he went inside.

“You need gas?” he asked before they left the store, Lynn shook her head, “no, but

thank you.”

“”Cuando, tu querer algo, tu decir me, papi, okay?” He repeated it in English, “When

you want something, tell me, papi, okay?”

            “You are teaching me Spanish,” Lynn asked, “ I will never remember how

to say it.”  she laughed, ‘but thank you for trying.”  A smile spread across his dark

handsome face, lighting up the dark, black pools of his eyes.

“One day, you understand; me too, it was hard to understand your English, but I need

to work,  buy food, clothes, beer,” he laughed, “ I need learn little bit.”

            Despite her fear of getting involved, Lynn loved the way he smiled, she loved

the way in which the sunlight seemed to dance in his eyes; no matter how much she

tried to deny it, despite her claims of, ‘needing, or ‘wanting, a man in her life,

Lynn wanted papa. 

            Lynn pushed the feelings away, she tried to keep them hidden deep inside, but

the more she pushed him away, the more he would come back, it seemed like she was

fighting an endless battle.  Lynn tried to keep a safe distance between them, but Javier,

Papa was determined to become a part of her life.

            One Sunday afternoon, as they returned from town, Lynn had helped him carry

baskets of clean laundry in his room, and she was standing by her car getting ready to

leave, Javier pulled her into his arms.

            “You and me are friends,” he said, a look of sadness crept into the dark eyes,

“But I have many friends, I want more then friendship.  But you hold back your heart,

Why?” Tears filled her eyes, as she looked up at him, no matter how much it might

hurt, she had to tell him.  She could not let him feel love for her, when she could not

return those feelings.

            She could not hurt this man, like she, had been hurt; no, Lynn would not let

him walk down this road to love, when she could not follow.  Lynn could not open

her heart, just to be hurt again, she couldn’t take the chance.  Lynn had to be honest

with him and tell Javier the truth.

            Javier reached over and wiped the tears which filled her eyes.

“I can’t be what you want me to be,” Lynn said through the tears, “I can’t take the

chance of being hurt again.”  Lynn cried.

            Sadness, then hurt crept into his eyes. 

“I, me, Javier Hernandez, will never hurt you.  When I want to give my heart away, it is

forever.  And my heart is for you.”

            One look into those beautiful dark eyes and Lynn knew that he was telling her the

truth; he would never hurt her.  All she had to do was melt into his waiting arms, and to

speak the words he wanted to hear; yet as much as she wanted to believe that love had

found her, Lynn could not let go of the pain and hurt of the past, and she could not speak

the words that would break his heart.

            Papa leaned down and kissed her, long and hard, he seem to understand.  He took

the headband from his head and dried her eyes.

“Time,” he said, “You need more time.  In time you will fall in love with me; in time,”

He predicted, he touched her heart, “Your heart will be mine.”  He placed her hand over

his heart, “and my heart will belong to you, don’t cry me amor, my love, don’t cry.”

            It was like flood waters rushing towards her, threatening to sweep her away.

Lynn felt it, sensed it, saw it, she had thrown up the flood gates, but his love was

sweeping over them and Lynn was helpless to stop it.

Chapter 3

The Road Leading Toward Love;

            It was an unseen, yet powerful force that kept bringing them together. Javier

would always find ways for them to be alone together.  Whenever one of his friends

wanted to ride into town with them, papa would speak to him in rapid Spanish, and

that would be the end of that. 

            One Saturday night after they had dropped off Carol, Lynn headed back

towards the camp. Javier stopped her.

“I don’t want to go back right now,” he said, a happy, but devilish gleam came into his

eyes, “I want to play pool,” he said, “Will you drive me?” he had almost stopped

speaking to her in Spanish.  When they were alone together, he tried to speak only

English.

            There was only one bar in town where the guys could shoot pool and enjoy

their beer, without some, ‘good,’ old boy wanting to start trouble.  Lynn drove Javier

to, ‘Dave’s Bar.’ 

            Papa opened the door for her, “Two friends,” he said laughing, he searched

for a word in English, ‘ how you say, ‘hanging out?”  Lynn laughed, “Yes papa,

hanging out is okay.” 

            The night started out harmless enough.  Javier tried to teach her to play,

but there was an art to holding the cue stick and when Lynn couldn’t get the hang of

it, laughing, she left papa to his game.

            Lynn soon lost interest in the pinball games, she went to the bar for soda and

 and chips, that’s when the trouble started.  Two men stood at the bar, laughing and

pointing, their voices were loud and Lynn couldn’t help but hear the subject of their

conversation.

            Looks like Betty has found a new mark, they laughed, “Yeah, the Mexican.”

Lynn’s attention was drawn to papa; he was the only Hispanic in the bar.  Papa’s table

was littered with a dozen or so, glass, ‘Budweiser bottles,’ they stood like silent soldiers

at attention.  Papa was trying to play his game, but a dirty, old washed up, overweight,

dyed blond hag, kept nosing up to the pool table trying to get his attention, showing every

bit of old stuff she had left to show.

            At first, papa wasn’t paying much attention, Lynn watched the scene unfold

from the bar.  When papa started paying attention, Lynn became angry.  She started

drinking; but Lynn’s choice of liquor was White Russians, she detested beer.  If you

are going to drink, choose the good stuff.  The more she watched papa, the more Lynn

drank

            When papa, staggering on his feet, left the pool table to cuddle up beside the

washed up old hag, the night turned ugly. Lynn had not drank for years, and the liquor

hit her hard.  Lynn was drunk and she was angry, the liquor had soaked into her brain

and taken control of her senses.  In a fit of rage, Lynn stumbled over to papa’s table.

            “Move!” she ordered, looking down at the old hag.  The old woman looked

at Lynn and laughed.

            “Get your own man,” she slurred. 

“Wrong answer you old hag!” Lynn snapped, “This is my man!”  Lynn didn’t give her

another chance to respond.  She knocked the chair from underneath her, kicking it across

the floor.  By the time the old woman was trying to pick herself up off the floor, the

bartender was ordering Lynn and papa out of his bar.

            Lynn started to unlock the car, gently; papa took the keys from her hand.

“Mi amor, “ he said laughing and waving his finger in a, ‘no,’ gesture, “you too drunk.”

Suddenly, Lynn burst into laughter, “you’re right papa, I am drunk! Lord papa, how are

we going to get home?” Papa shrugged, “Yo no say mi amor, you no say.” translated,

(I don’t know my love, I don’t know).

            Lynn had no choice but to call her son, Charles was never going to let her live this

night down.  He would remind her of it for the rest of her life.

            In anger, Charles snatched the keys from her hand, “get in mother!” he growled

between clinched teeth.  This was not the best time for Javier to meet her son, but Lynn

was too drunk and too much in love to care.

            Charles had been angry with her before, life goes on; he’d get over it.

“Charles, meet Javier.”

“Javier, my son Charles.” Silence filled the car, if anger could kill, Lynn would have

been dead.

            Lynn snuggled in papa’s arms, she was too drunk to sleep, but not drunk enough

to pass out.  She had a good-looking man in her bed and Lynn wanted to play.

            But papa would have none of that nonsense.  Gently, but firmly, he kept pushing

her hand away.

“No,” he said, then laugh when Lynn wouldn’t give up.  Lynn didn’t understand why

nothing wasn’t happening; why he wouldn’t let anything happen.

            “Mama, “ he slapped at her hand, “You need respect.”  But Lynn didn’t care

about respect, she had a hot-bloodied Mexican in her bed and she wanted him.

            “Papa,” Lynn cried out, “I know you want me, I know you love me.”  She

spoke to him in Spanish, “Que es tu’s problema papa?”  Papa pulled her body close

to his, “Muy bien mi amor! muy bien, Espanol!” he said laughing, (very good my love,

very good Spanish).”What is my problem?  Is no problem my love. “ His kisses were

driving Lynn crazy.  To be lying here in his arms, feeling his kisses and to want to touch

him, and have her hand pushed away, was too much for Lynn to bear.  All that

unfulfilled passion was driving her insane and making her angry.

            “Don’t kiss me papa.  If I can’t have you, I don’t want your kisses.  It’s making

me crazy!” Lynn fussed, “To lie in your arms, feel your kisses, and have you push me

away when I want to make love.  Maybe, you don’t want me, maybe you don’t love

me.  Maybe you are just playing games papa!”  Lynn was in tears, she turned away from

him.  But papa being papa wouldn’t let it rest.

            He made her face him.

“No mi amor,” he said pointing to the absence of a wedding ring on her finger.  “With

no ring, it is not right.  I don’t want one night and nothing more.

            “Before I take you, you will be my wife.”  He struggled for the words in English.

His words almost made her sober.  Javier wanted marriage, and Lynn wanted a roll in the

Hay!  This was not going to work.

“Me here with you my love tonight is okay, but next week, next month, Que? What

happens then? I’ve had that before,” he said, “Sex, I want commitment and love.  When

two people, one man and one woman have commitment, marriage and a ring, then its

right, not before, you understand?’

            But the only thing Lynn understood that night was that her hunger, her passion

for Javier was being denied.  The only other thing she understood was that he wanted

commitment and marriage.  Could Lynn do that?  Was she ready to make another

commitment?  Lynn passed out before she had to answer those questions. She awoke

to the smell of coffee, her head was pounding, it felt like someone had hit her in the

head with a hammer.  Who was fixing coffee? Then she remembered, Javier.

            Lord, she had been drunk last night; Lynn hoped she had not done anything

stupid.  Suddenly, she remembered, as her brain cleared, the events of last night

came back to haunt her.  She wondered why in the world had she been drinking in

the first place?  Lynn had stopped drinking five years ago, when she had to start

taking the medicine, what in the world possessed her to start that again?

            As the fog in her mind cleared, she remembered.  She had been at the bar,

when she saw papa leave his game of pool and start paying attention to the old hag;

The more he paid attention; the angrier it made her and she started drinking.

        There could only be one reason why, she was jealous.  She remembered the

rest of the night too; She had wanted a roll in the hay, but Javier would not let it happen.

He wanted commitment and marriage, not just a night of passionate sex.  What a fine

mess you’ve gotten into this time, old girl, letting yourself fall in love, Lynn thought.

            There, it was, her innermost feelings had been revealed.  Lynn had tried so

hard to keep those feelings hidden deep inside and deny their existence; deny it even

to herself.

            She pulled back the covers and slowly made her way into the kitchen.

Smiling, Javier handed her a cup of coffee.  Lynn mumbled, ‘thank you,’ and tried to

leave it at that, but a simple thank you, would not do for papa.  Kissing her, he

wrapped his arms around her waist.

            “Do you understand about last night?” he asked.  Lynn was embarrassed.

“Sorry,” she said, “I was drunk.”

“Me too, did you think about what I asked?” He repeated what he had asked in Spanish,

“Yo querer tu, para querer, matrimonio, entender?”  Lynn shook her head, “no,”

“ You understood last night,” he said laughing, “Por Que no hoy?” When Lynn chose

not to reply, he repeated everything again in English. 

            “I said, I want you, but I want marriage, and I asked why you didn’t understand

today.  You understood my Spanish last night?  Why not today?” He had left her no way

out; Lynn couldn’t pretend that she didn’t understand English. Lynn sat the coffee cup

down and the table and sat down next to him.

            “Papa, I love you very much,” she said placing her hand in his, “I realized

that this morning, that’s why I started drinking.  Seeing you pay attention to that old

hag, last night, it just made me so angry.  This morning I knew the reason behind my

anger, I’ve let myself fall in love with you,” Lynn said, “But as much as I love you, I

don’t know if I can make that commitment and get married. “  Javier caressed her hand.

            “It’s okay, mi amor, my love, I will wait until you decide when the time is right.

But your son, Carlos, he was very mad, maybe he don’t like me?”

“Charles?  He was mad because I was drunk.  It’s not you,” she said. Javier kissed her

again.  “We will talk later,” he said, “ I need to go to work.”

            Lynn stopped and picked up her sister, when Carol saw Javier in the front seat,

she grinned, “Good morning,” she said.  But Lynn could tell by the devilish glint in her

eyes, that her sister wanted to say much more than, ‘good morning.’

            When Lynn dropped them off at the camp, Javier leaned inside the window

and kissed her on the cheek.  “”I see you tonight,” he said. It was more of a statement

than a question.  Lynn couldn’t answer, she didn’t trust her feelings enough to answer.

            As she drove home, Lynn’s mind was filled with questions; questions she

didn’t have any answers for.

            She had spent so many years building a new life.  How could she have let this

man get so close?  She should have backed away before he had the chance to fall in love

with her; but should have and didn’t, were events she could not change.

            As handsome and sincere and sweet as papa was, and as much as Lynn had

fallen in love with him, could she throw caution to the wind and follow her heart?

Did she dare? Lynn had to be realistic, Javier was a migrant worker, and he made his

living following the crops.  When the season was done and the harvest was over, he’d

move on; what would she do then?

            Would she take Shawn and follow him?  Or, would she sit out the cold West

Virginia winter and wait for his return? Part of her, wanted to say the, ‘hell,’ with it;

Throwing caution to the wind and follow him no matter where that road might lead

            Maybe Carol was right, maybe, this was love, the third time around; and if

she followed Javier down that road, who knew what the future would bring?  Lynn knew

for sure, that Javier loved her; she could see it in her eyes when he looked at her.

            Lynn could feel it in his touch and when he kissed her, it was that gentleness in

him, that kept drawing her close, like a magnet whenever he was near.  But, what if

she was wrong?  Would she just be opening herself up to more of the same hurt and

pain she had felt in the past?  Or, would this time, could, this time be different?

            But Lynn could not deny it any longer; she had let herself get too close.

And she had fallen in love with him.  Over the last three months, Lynn had let down

the walls and emotions around her heart; rather, papa had taken them down.

            What had taken Lynn years to build, with love, trust and understanding,

brick-by-brick, in just a few months, papa had town down the walls around her heart.

            As Lynn went about her day, she had to laugh about the fight she had with

the old woman and about being kicked out of the bar.  Even in her old drinking days,

Lynn had never been kicked out of a bar in her life!  But she knew why she had did

it; she felt that her love for Javier had been threatened and like a wild cat defending

her cubs, Lynn had reacted to that threat, in the only way she knew, to fight for what

she wanted; and she wanted papa.

“Damn you Javier!” Lynn fussed, “Why did you make me fall in love with you?”

            Now that she had the answers to the questions, which had been haunting her

thoughts, Lynn knew it would only be a matter of time before she would follow him

down that road to love.

            Lynn knew it would not be for money, papa could not give her riches.  He

could not place a diamond ring on her finger; but if she decided to make this commitment,

Lynn would be accepting all he had to offer; himself and his love.  Out of two failed

marriages, the love he was offering was more than enough for Lynn.

Chapter 4

The Road, Which Followed

            When she went out that afternoon to pick up her sister from the camp, she

looked for papa, now that Lynn had found him, rather, he had found her, she wasn’t

about to let him go; wherever this road to was destined to take her, Lynn would

follow; and she’d follow with all her heart.  How hard could it be?  With papa beside

her, there was nothing that the two of them could not handle together.

            But she wanted a private place to tell him, not here at the camp with everyone

hanging around. When she saw him coming in from the orchard, it was all Lynn could

do to contain her excitement.  She felt like a child on Christmas Day, waiting impatiently

to open her presents. Papa waved, a smile on his face, he walked up to the car.

            Lynn wrapped her arms around him, “I got something to tell you,” she said,

“But not here, come with me for dinner at my house.”

“Ahora?” he asked, “Now? I am dirty from the trees. Mi amor (my love), is necesito,

una ducha.  I need one shower,” he repeated in English

“Go ahead, I will wait.” he leaned down and kissed her.

“Poco tiempo, (little time),” he replied.  Lynn watched as he disappeared into the building.

            “What a day,” Carol said, opening the door.  She started to sit down in the

front seat. “I am tired. What are we waiting for?” Lynn glanced at her sister and

grinned.  She might as well share the good news.

            “I am waiting for papa, and I got something to tell you.  But don’t you

dare say, ‘I told you so,’ promise?”

“Tell me?” Lynn shared the secret with her sister.

“Sunday night when Chuck had to bring us home because I was too drunk to drive.”

“You told me about it,” Carol said laughing.

“That Monday morning when we picked you up, you thought we had been together,

but we hadn’t.  Javier wouldn’t let it, not until he put a ring on my finger!”

“Is there any more out there like that?”  Carol laughed, “What are your going to do?

“What do you want to do, sis?”

“I’ve been thinking about it all day, he wants commitment and marriage. I do love him

sis, “ Lynn said, “You were right, I think this is love, the third time around. I’m going

to tell him tonight.”

            “I ‘m glad for you sis,” Carol said, “It’s about time things turned around for you.

I’m glad you’re taking the chance.” Carol hugged her, “You weren’t meant to live alone.”

            Lynn fixed dinner while papa watched television.  She sat the table and called

him.  “It’s ready,” Lynn called.  Lynn had fixed chicken, rice, red beans and a salad.

Papa ate every bit of it and helped her clear the table.

            As they sat down to watch a movie, papa took her hand and held it.

“Mi amor, I’m full the food, muy bien, very good. But something is wrong?”

Lynn smiled, “No,” she said, “Everything is right. I’ve been thinking all day

about our talk this morning, if you still want a commitment and marriage, I’m

ready.”

            Javier grabbed her and hugged her; laughter lit the dark Spanish eyes.

“Mi amor, mi amor, (my love, my love) yes! Yo mucho feliz, (I am very happy).

Tomorrow, after work, we go shopping for clothes, okay? Lynn fell into his

waiting arms, she was crying.

            “”No, tears mamita, no tears.”

“It’s okay papa, it’s happy tears, I love you papa, I love you.”

“And I love you mama, I love you.”

            Their big day came on May 2, 1989.  With her son, Shawn and two of

Papa’s friends by their side, Julie and Jessie, by their side, Javier and Lynda

exchanged wedding vows.

            The love they felt for each other spilled out into the small courtroom in

Winchester, Virginia.

            Repeating his vows, holding her hand, papa slipped the gold band on her

finger.

“No mamita, not even death will take me from you. I will be with you forever.”

He lifted her hand and kissed her fingers, repeating the last few words in Spanish.

“Para siempre, mi amor, para siempre, (forever my love, forever).”

            When Javier added those words to his vows, ‘about death never taking him

from her, a sudden chill swept over Lynn.  Foreboding and cold, like someone had

just walked over her grave.

            No matter how hard she tried, Lynn could not shake the feeling; his words

seemed like another prophecy yet to be fulfilled. His arms encircled her waist and

whispered softly in her ear.

            “Now, it is right, mi amor, my love. Now it is good.”

“You’ve made a good woman out of me papa,” Lynn laughed, “I love you papa.”

Pulling her into his arms, they shared a long and passionate kiss.

“I love you mi mamita,” papa said, “Forever and forever.”

            Their wedding night was all Lynn had expected it to be and more. 

Papa was a gentle lover, very attentive to her needs.

“I love you mi mamita,” he whispered, “You have made my life happy.’

When papa looked down at her, a smile spread across his dark handsome face.

            “See mi amor, it is better we wait until this night.”

“Yes, papa it is better we waited until this night.” Laughter lit the dark pools of

his eyes.

            “I am an old man, I am tired but happy.”

“Papa, you will never be too old for me,” Lynn teased. he kissed her gently on the lips.

“No, my love,” he whispered, “I will never be too old to make love to my wife. Time.”

he said, “In my heart, I know that is all you needed. Time to trust, and time to make

you fall in love with me.” He placed his hand over her heart and placed her hand over

his heart.

“Today, our two hearts are one.”

Happy and contented, safe and secure, Lynn fell asleep in his arms.

            It surprised Lynn that Shawn got along well with papa.  It was hard for Shawn

to get along with people.  Because of past abuse in his life and neglect by his father,

Shawn pushed people aside, most the time he stayed in his own little world; emerging

from his self exile only when it pleased him, and very seldom, allowing outsiders to

enter that world, papa was the first stranger Shawn let enter his world.

            But Shawn grew to love Javier. Papa was patient with him, he didn’t try

to rule or become the father figure Shawn never had, instead, papa became Shawn’s friend and would speak to him in a gentle voice.

            One afternoon, she had fussed at Shawn over the mess in his room, when he

talked backed to her, papa gave Shawn a disapproving look.

“No Shawn, this is your mother you need to show her respect.” Shawn hung his head.

“Sorry,” he said.

“No sorry Shawn, when your mother tell you to do something, you need to listen.”

            That was papa’s way, gentle, friendly, yet firm. Shawn soaked up the attention

that papa gave him, he never let Shawn feel like he was being left out. If it was quick

trip to the store, papa would invite Shawn to come along.

            Lynn was happy she had followed Javier down this road to marriage.  After

work at night, Lynn would curl up next to him on the sofa and watch television.

Papa liked nothing more then to sit with his arm draped over her shoulder, he was

content to be at home with her.

            He got Lynn hooked on wrestling.

“It’s mentir mama,” he’d say laughing, “It’s a lie.

“But you love it don’t you papa?” he would look at her and grin, laughter dancing in

the dark Spanish eyes Lynn loved so much.

“Si, mama, si,” (yes mama, yes).

            If papa wasn’t too tired after work on Saturday afternoon, after he’d clean up,

they would spend the rest of the afternoon going from one-yard sale to the other.  Papa

loved looking at other people’s junk. 

            Sometimes they would luck out and find,’ good stuff,’ as papa called it.

One such afternoon, papa picked up a small stereo.

“This is good mama,” he said, “I want this.” Lynn couldn’t understand why he

wanted it, when he a nice, expensive stereo at home.

“No for me,” he said,” for Shawn.”

“That is sweet of you papa, to think of Shawn.”

“Is mi hijo now mama, is my son now.” Sadness filled the dark pools of his eyes.

“Maybe one day mama, we will take a trip to visit mi hijo’s and mi hija in Oklahoma.

“You, me and Shawn and Carlos too, if he wants to go.”

“Papa you never told me you had children in Oklahoma?”

“No children mama, grown up now. “

“Papa? You keeping secrets from me?” Papa smiled.

“No mama.” he said.

            One afternoon late in the month of May, Papa got Shawn out of bed.

“Come on Shawn, he told him, me and you go to work today.”

They were clearing brush in the orchard and papa took Shawn along to help.

“I need to teach him to be a man and to work,” papa said. Shawn was not a happy

camper. He grumbled and fussed at getting up so early. But papa would have none of it.

            “I don’t need to work,” Shawn fussed, “I get a check.” Papa laughed.

“Maybe one day Shawn, no check. You need to learn to work and be a man.  You are

not a little boy any more.” Then papa told him the story when he was a little boy in

Mexico.

            “Shawn, in Mexico when there is no money, little boys work in the field.

There is no money for school.  Maybe I was five or six, I went into the fields with my

mother, and brothers and sisters.

I wasn’t working fast enough, and my mother, she took a little switch and smacked my

legs, “mass rapido mi hijo, no rapido, no dinero.” The Spanish was lost on Shawn.  Papa

explained it to him in English.

            “More fast, my son, no fast, no money.”

“That was mean,” Shawn said.  Papa shook his head.

“No Shawn, my mother teaches me how to work, how to make money. We didn’t have

money for school, she taught me what she knew, and that was how to work the fields.

“You understand?” Shawn shook his head.

“No.”

“Anyway, my mother teach me, I taught my children and now, I teach you.”

            Lynn packed two big lunches and drove them out to the orchard. Shawn grumbled

under his breath. Papa heard and understood. He gave Shawn a playful pat on the back.

“Come on Shawn, be happy.  Today, you learn men’s work.”

            Papa hadn’t given him a choice; he paid no attention to the grumbling.  He just

let Shawn know what was expected of him.  Papa expected him to be a man and he didn’t

take, ‘no,’ for an answer.  He went about the business of teaching Shawn how to grow up.

            To Lynn’s surprise, after that first day, Shawn like the work, he liked the money

it put in his pocket and he liked working with papa. For the next two Saturday’s, Lynn

would pack his lunch and drive them to the orchard.

            “Than you papa,” Lynn said, one afternoon.

“What for mama?’

“For taking the time to teach him.” Papa smiled.

“No problem mama,” he said, “ I like Shawn, he is a good boy.”

            “Papa? I want you to show me how to make those great burrito’s, with beef and cheese.”

“No jalapenos?”  he laughed.

“No papa!  No peppers!” He grabbed her and hugged her tightly.

            Papa taught her to make the burritos and other Spanish foods.  He loved beans

and rice with chicken.  It was his favorite.  Papa would take a plain tortilla with cheese,

(queso) in Spanish.  The cheese would make her gain weight, but Lynn loved it.

            Lynn learned to make refried beans, just smash the pinto beans and cook them in oil.  Papa liked his Spanish food, Lynn was happy she had learned to cook most of his favorite dishes.

            One night after she had made his favorite chicken with rice, papa finished it off.

He laughed, teasing her.

“Muy bien! (very good) I can eat again,” he said laughing. Lynn pretended to be offended.

“Papa!”

“I play mi amor, I’m playing.”

            Lynn was happy, content and in love.  Carol had been right in her prophecy;

Love had come for the third time around and it had caught Lynn in its grip.  She

thanked heaven for papa and prayed that he would be with her forever.

            Shortly after their marriage, Lynn had filled out forms for papa to get his,

‘Green card,’ this would not make him legal, but it would give him legal status under

Immigration laws, allowing him to live and work in this country.

            Lynn wouldn’t have to worry about papa being shipped back to Mexico when

Immigration agents raided the orchards and the fields! She never told papa, but that had

been one of her biggest fears, with him not having legal status, he could be shipped

to Mexico before they had a chance for a life together.

            In order to make him legal, he would need his birth certificate and other

documents from Mexico.  Papa had written his family and asked for them.  They arrived

on his birthday, June 30, 1989.

            Lynn had never seen papa so excited.  He grabbed her, hugging and kissing her.

Papa starting laughing as he read over the documents.

“Mama! I am an old man!” he laughed, “I am 63, not 59! he laughed, “Come on,

una fiesta! One party! Vamonos, tienda! “Go to the store,” he repeated in English.

“Mama, I want cake, soda, ice cream and maybe a little beer for me.”

            Lynn laughed as papa blew out all 63 candles on his cake.  No wonder

Javier had wanted her to call him, ‘papa,’ he was 63, and Lynn was 44! but papa had

his party, soda for her and Shawn, and beer for him. Papa put his Spanish tapes on

the stereo and they danced and laughed until late into the night.

            Now that they had his documents, it wouldn’t be long until they would make

the trip to Pennsylvania and get the process started.

“Mi amor, (my love) you want to sleep with this old man?” Papa laughed.

“Always papa, “ and Lynn turned to him.

            In June, papa changed jobs. Through another crew leader, papa learned there was a farm in Charles Town offering good money to plant tomatoes.  The drive was longer, but the crew leader would provide transportation.

            Papa would work the fields, planting, until the peaches were ready. Lynn would

get up a little early and fix his lunch, she always coaxed him to carry a water jug.  It was

mid July now and hot in the fields.  Lynn wanted him to have plenty of fresh water.

            “No need mama,” papa said one morning, “There is water in the field from the pipes.”

            Papa had been working about three weeks when he started getting sick

Lynn watched him shuffle up the walk, she knew something was wrong.  His face was pale; a yellow tint marred his bronze complexion. She met him at the door.

            “What’s the matter papa?”

“I don’t know mama, I’m sick.” he handed her his lunch pail, “I need lay down.”

“I should have taken my water mama, we been drinking the water from the pipes, but

today the boss said not to drink the water. The farmer’s wife gave us milk to drink. She

said, it would be okay.” Panic filled Lynn’s mind, the water papa had been drinking was

poisoned with pesticides.  She had to get him into the emergency room.

            “Papa, you need to go to the hospital.  The water was contaminated, it will

make you very sick.”  But papa acted like it was no big deal, and that scared her.

“I will lay down, don’t worry, I will be okay in the morning.” he kissed her, trying to

reassure Lynn.

“”It’s okay mama, it’s okay” But Lynn knew it wasn’t okay. Maybe papa didn’t

understand the danger, but Lynn did.

            “Papa, I know you’re sick and want to lay down but first you need to be seen.

Maybe you don’t understand the danger, but I do. What kind of pesticide was it papa,

Do you know?”

“No honey I don’t know.” he said.  Lynn had to find out what kind of pesticide was used.

She needed to call the farm where he had been working.  But when she tried to explain it to papa, be became angry. It was the first time he’d been angry with her.

            “No!” he said, “Leave it alone. I’m going to bed!”  Tears filled her eyes, falling down her face. When papa saw her tears, he lowered his voice and wiped the tears running down her face.

            “Mama, it’s okay don’t cry.”

            “ It’s okay, I am a little angry yes, but not too much.  You are an American

woman, I love you, but you don’t understand your Mexican husband. He tried to smile.

“In Mexico, if something happens at the work, it is not the business of the wife. It is

man’s business, we take care of the problem.”

            “But papa, pesticides can make you more than sick. And I don’t want to lose you,

okay?  You are my life papa, and I would die if something happen to you.”

“Mi amor (my love), on our wedding day, remember, I said, I will be with you forever?

I have not changed my mind; I will be with you forever.  Please mama, no more talk okay?  I need to sleep.”

            “Okay papa, you sleep.”  Lynn closed the door and left the bedroom. Going into

the living room, Lynn knelt down and prayed, Lynn believed in God, she didn’t know

Him like she should, but she knew he heard prayers and he was the only one who could

help her now.

            “God, I know that you hear prayers, and sometimes you answer them. I don’t know if I have the right to ask, but Javier is my life. Please, help him and keep him with me. I don’t know what I’d do if I lost him.”  Tears rolled down her face.  God just had to

answer her prayers.  Her prayer had been selfish, but after everything she had been

through in her life, Lynn felt she deserved some happiness for a change. And life with

Papa made her happy. And if it was selfish for her to think that way, then so be it.

            She checked in on papa, he was sleeping soundly.  Closing the door, she called her friend June, whose husband, Jose, worked with papa.  Maybe June would know something.  If papa was sick and if it was from the water, Jose might also be sick.

            “I just got in the door,” June replied,” Did your hear, did papa tell you the water

the guys drank had pesticides in it?”

“That’s the reason I called,” Lynn, explained, “Papa is sick too, and I was hoping you would have some information”

“I wish I did,” June said, “It was some kind of herbicide, but we don’t know the name of it. Lynn, I got to go, Jose needs me.  Just get Javier to the emergency room. I’ll call later.’

            Lynn would have like nothing more than to get papa into the emergency room.

But he had refused to go, Lynn had wanted to fuss until he consented, but he was sick and

feeling bad like he did, Lynn didn’t want to argue with him.

            Papa finished out the rest of July planting tomatoes. Lynn was glad when the month of August rolled around, she would be glad when he could go back to the orchard

for the peach season.

            But while the guys had been planting tomatoes, his old boss had hired another

crew to harvest the peaches.  Papa moped around the house for two days, he wasn’t used to not working and it was getting to him. Lynn tried to tell him it would be okay, that he

would find another job soon.

            “Okay mama,” he said, “No work, no money? “

“Maybe Carol is working,” Lynn, said, “ Let’s go visit papa and find out, okay?”  Papa

threw his hands up in the air, he was angry, not with her, but because he didn’t have a job.

“Okay mama, vamonos!”  translated means ‘go,’

        Papa always had to be working, he was not used to being off, and it was driving

him crazy. Lynn sensed his restlessness; she hoped that her sister might know of someplace where they could work.

            She had talked to him about picking peaches for another orchard, but because of his immigration status, papa didn’t want to sign on anywhere else.

            “Papa? Do you need to work for the same orchard? There are plenty more orchards around Martinsburg, couldn’t you try another orchard?”

‘Yes maybe, “ he said, ‘But sometimes other orchards are not good for illegal workers.

Its best to stay where you know.”

“Don’t worry mama, maybe you, me and your sister go to the strawberries?

“You want to go mama?”

“If you want to try papa.  I won’t be fast enough to make any money, but.” Papa

leaned over and kissed her.

“Mama, I know because of your disability, it’s okay.  I don’t want you to go to make

money.  I just want you to be there with me, okay?”  Papa laughed, “I know one place,

we go today.  We pick up your sister and go, okay?”

            They stopped and picked up Carol and papa showed Lynn where the strawberry

field was located.  It was still early morning, so it wasn’t too late or too hot to get into

the field.

            Papa and Carol signed in, they could use more pickers.  Lynn had not been in

strawberry patch since 1976.  With the disability in her feet and legs, the standing, bending, and walking was sending searing pain through her feet and down her legs.

No matter how hard she tried to keep up with papa, she could not.  It was physically

impossible. 

            “Mi amor, (my love), go to the car,” he took the bucket from her hand. “You

are in too much pain.” Papa had been watching her going up and down the rows. Lynn

started to protest, but papa stopped her.

“The work is too hard for you now,” he said, “You try, but you can’t. Wait for me in the

car.”

“But papa.”

“No, go. I am the man, the husband, I will make the living.”  Papa had spoken, Lynn

waited for them in the car.  “Darn these legs! Lynn fussed; she couldn’t work on them for even two hours.  She had tried, but papa was right.  The pain shooting into her feet and muscle spasms knotting in her legs was unbearable.

            For the next two weeks, Lynn would pack lunches for her and papa; they would pick up her sister and head out of town for the strawberry fields. The strawberry patch

was too far away for Lynn to drop them off and come back.  She would stay until the

work was finished.

            On the way home one afternoon, papa started laughing.

“What’s so funny papa?”

“I was thinking, maybe tomorrow, we bring Shawn?” Lynn thought it was a good idea,

but her sister did not.

            “No! I won’t make any money,” she said, “He’ll be picking at me all day.

Then I’ll have to take those berries and throw them at him.  No!”

Shawn stayed home.

            After the berries were finished, the three of them went to work for a farmer

Carol knew who needed help picking tomatoes. The first morning they were to work, papa got up feeling sick and clutching his left arm. Once again, Lynn wanted him to go to the hospital, and once again, papa refused.

            “Papa!  You might be having a heart attack!  The way you’re holding your arm.”
”No, I’m okay, a little pain that’s all. Let’s go.” Papa didn’t want Lynn in the fields, they

had a slight disagreement over it.

            “No,” papa told her, “No.” He had said no, and thought that would be the end of it.

“No more discussion,” Papa said.

“Yes papa, more discussion. If you can go out there with your chest hurting and too stubborn to let me take you to the emergency room, I can go in the field.”

Lynn took the five-gallon bucket and headed off to the tomatoes. If papa was going, she

was going. Period.  She would work with him today no matter how much pain she would

be in.  Lynn knew he was hurting and she became determine to stay by his side. If papa

needed her, Lynn wanted to be right there.

            They were big tomatoes and it didn’t take Lynn long to fill one bucket then another, that’s the way it went all morning until it was time to take their lunch break.

Papa was still a little bit upset that she hadn’t listened, but he loved her and Lynn knew he would get over it.  They sat under a tree and ate their lunch.

            “You still angry with me papa?” Lynn asked,  smiling, he leaned over and kissed her.

“No my love, no more angry. You got a lot of buckets.”  Lynn laughed.

“You were watching me papa?”

“Okay, I don’t want you working too hard,” he said.

“They are big tomatoes papa.”  They laughed together. It felt good to be beside him,

working next to him and laughing.  This is the way marriage should be, Lynn thought,

working together, playing together, give and take.

            Papa picked up his bucket and they started to head back into the field, but they never made it; yelling for her, papa dropped his bucket and started to claw at his chest; as if doing so, he could make the pain go away.

            Some nearby farm workers came running, they helped her get him into the car.

His face was pale, “It hurts mama,” he said, tears filled the black pools of his eyes. Lynn

tried to reassure him.  “It’s okay papa, it’s okay.”

            Fear rose in her heart, making it difficult for her to breathe. Lynn said a silent prayer, ‘God help me get him to the hospital on time.’

Chapter 5

Saturday, December 16, 1989

            Lynn needs to visit papa today; his spirit has been calling, beckoning Lynn to his side. 

“I want my wedding ring, mamita,” (mama), the sweet sound of his voice gently calls.

“And I want my headband, please come mi amor (my love).  I am lonely, mamita (mama), so lonely.”

            The sound of his voice awakened her, without thinking, without remembering,

Lynn reached across the bed to pull him towards her, to snuggle in his arms. But papa’s

side of the bed was cold and bare.  Feeling the vacant space next to her where papa should have been, Lynn remembered.  Tears of sadness filled the pools of her Irish, hazel

eyes, cascading down her cheeks.  A choking lump formed in her throat, beginning anew the aching of her heart.

            Lynn was wide-awake and helpless to stop the tears. The dawn of the new day had brought with it a remembrance.  Reminding her that after seven short months of life together, that papa’s side of the bed would forever remain cold and bare; vacant, like her life.

            Lynn climbed slowly out of bed, she wanted so much to share this moment with her children, but she could not. They would not understand, “You were dreaming mom,” is all they would say.  But Lynn knew better, it was not a dream.  Papa had called to her,

and Lynn would not keep him waiting. “I’m coming papa,” Lynn called, “I’m coming.”

            “She pushed aside the curtains which framed the small bedroom window overlooking the front of the lot.  Overnight, the world outside her small two-bedroom mobile home had turned white.  The outside world was engulfed in a blizzard.  The wind howled, the small rose bush papa had planted was shaking with the wind.

            Listless, Lynn’s fingers traced the outline of snowflakes clinging to the cold window glass.  Being awakened by papa’s spirit calling her had set a strange mood within her mind.  The storm raging on the outside world, matched the storm raging within her

heart, within her soul.  Lynn was glad the storm had struck; she hoped and prayed that it

would last for days, stranding her within the confines of her home.

            If the storm lasted for days then she would not have bury papa.  She would not have to see him lying there so cold, so still, so alone, and so dead, in that dark gray casket; she would not have to bury her life. Lynn wanted to scramble back into bed, grab the covers and pull them over her head.  Instead, she screamed, ‘God! Help me make it

through another day.’ But God wasn’t listening.

            If He had been, papa would still be alive.

As long as the storm battered the outside world, Lynn would not have to face reality.

She could crawl back into bed, pull the covers over her head and forget; forgetting the nightmare that had engulfed her mind, her body, and her very soul.

            Papa wasn’t dead!  He wasn’t! It was all a nightmare. Someone’s idea of a sick

and horrid joke.

            When the storm was over and the roads were clear of the ice and snow, she would

drop Shawn off at Carol’s and make that long drive to Hershey Medical Center.  Papa

would be there in his room, waiting for her. Not knowing what had delayed her return, his dark eyes would be filled with questions.

            The first thing Lynn would do would be to hold him and smother his handsome face with kisses.  She would then explain that the storm had kept her away from him;

Being careful not to disturb his tubes and monitors, she would climb into bed and cuddle

up beside him, and there she would stay until the night nurses chased her from his bed.

            When the bright morning sunshine once again filled his room, Lynn would awaken papa with a kiss, then she would do what she had done everyday since he’d been sick. Lynn would help him to the bathroom.  She would bathe him and help him into a

fresh, clean gown.

            After breakfast, while student nurses made his bed, Lynn would wheel papa into the sunroom; and there the two of them would stay, snuggled like a couple of love struck

teens until mid afternoon when it would be time for papa’s dialysis treatment. While papa was in dialysis, Lynn would take care of her needs, take her medicine and eat.

            While Lynn continued staring into the outside world, the storm changed. The white sky laden with snow disappeared, in its place were thick black angry clouds.

Sudden blackness engulfed her soul, yanking her down into the black pit of it’s violent

churning center.  Feeling her body sway, Lynn tried to move away from the window, but

fingers like claws reached out and grabbed her. Stiff and void of emotion, void of life,

Lynn surrendered, collapsing to the floor.

            From somewhere deep inside the pit where Lynn was trapped, an agonized scream sounded in her ears. The scream lasted only a few seconds before giving way to the sound of quiet sobbing.

He bedroom door was flung open, noise replaced the silence. Lynn’s daughter

Kelly and her boyfriend Martin were kneeling down to comfort her. Martin helped her

to stand. Fear and pain filled the dark brown pools of Kelly’s eyes.

“Mom you were screaming, what happened?” Lynn did not answer.  She was shaking and sobbing.

            “Mom? You need to eat and you need your medicine for your diabetes.”

“Come on mom,” Martin said, “Let us help you into the kitchen.” Lynn tried to resist

Kelly and Martin’s efforts.

            Lynn didn’t want to eat, she didn’t want her insulin, she didn’t want to bathe, to dress, brush her teeth, or wash her hair.  She never wanted to do any of these mundane

things of everyday life ever again.

            What Lynn wanted was to escape to her room, the room she had shared with papa.

Lynn wanted to scream and yell, to curse the day and the night, and to curse those who had taken him away from her.  She wanted to crawl back into bed, pull the blankets over

her head and forget. Forget that while her heart still beat inside her chest, that papa’s

heart would never beat again.  She wanted to forget that his side of the bed would forever

remain cold and bare.

            Like an obedient child, Lynn let them lead her into the kitchen.  The aroma of fresh perked coffee was tempting; she let Kelly fix her a cup.  The overpowering smell of

food, of bacon sizzling in the frying pan was nauseating. When Martin fixed her a plate,

Lynn waved it away.

            Lynn didn’t need or want food. What Lynn needed, what Lynn wanted, was dead.

And would never again be alive for her to snuggle close, for her to cuddle in his arms on a cold winter’s night; for her to love and to cherish.

            What Lynn needed, what Lynn wanted, was laying cold and dead, alone and void of life in a cold, empty room at Brown’s Funeral Home in Martinsburg, West Virginia.

While papa slept, his restless spirit calling out to her, Lynn slipped deeper and deeper into a black pit of depression.

            Married at the age of seventeen, Lynn had always been the mother her children

needed, now, the roles were reversed.  Lynn was the child, her children, all four of them,

had become her mother.

            As mothers do, reminding Lynn constantly, that she needed to shower, she needed to check her glucose levels, reminding her to take her insulin shots and to eat.

            Sometimes the veil over her mind would grow dim and she could hear their

voices, it was a reminder to Lynn that she was still alive.

            Lynn grew content to curl up into the black pit. It was a strange place where her

loving children could not follow.  In the strangest of ways the blackness acted like a

friend with encircling arms in a time of darkness.  Comforting, protecting, shielding,

keeping Lynn’s mind from slipping over the edge into insanity.

            Lynn knew that her children suspected that she had already crossed over that

threshold, especially her older two, Charles and Kelly. Charles and Shawn had been

by her side when papa has the first heart attack in August.

            Later, when he was in Chambersburg Hospital, it was the girls who had been with her.  While in Chambersburg, Lynn would stay with Kelly and Martin, and then with Susan. When he died on December 11, it was Kelly and Susan she had held on to.

            Lynn looked from one face to the other; they feared for her mental state; none

of them had to express it; it was a look that would pass between them, unvoiced thoughts

that Lynn could almost read.

            At times, Lynn’s mind would become almost rational, she thought she could

accept papa’s passing.  But as the day neared to say her final good-by’s Lynn refused

to accept this nightmare as reality.

            Lynn had often heard that there was a, ‘thin line,’ between sanity and insanity;

if that was true, Lynn’s mind was trapped somewhere in the middle.

            While waiting for the storm to subside, Lynn sat silently rocking back and forth in Papa’s favorite chair.  Gratefully, she accepted another cup of coffee from Martin.

She sipped the hot liquid, starring blankly out the window. It didn’t matter that she had chosen to retreat from the world; life went on without her. 

            Thinking on these thoughts made Lynn angry.  How dare it! How selfish it was for the world to continue on as before! As if nothing had happened; as if Lynn’s very

life had not jerked from beneath her.  Lynn’s world had collapsed and the outside world

had not even slowed down enough to notice.

            Why should it? Lynn thought, papa had not been a man of the world, he had been

special only to her.  Tears flooded Lynn’s eyes, as she cried, rocking back and forth in papa’s favorite chair, the sounds of life went on around her.

            Martin was busy cleaning the kitchen, her four grandchildren, Ramada, and Manuel, Michelle and Juan, laughed at cartoons on television; Shawn fussed with her sister’s over who would get their shower first.  Even in her own household life

continued on as before, as if nothing had happened.

            Somewhere from within the numbness, within the blackness, within the depression, a voice filled with agony and despair, cried its way to the surface.

“Won’t someone please, make the world go away!”

            Lynn’s children didn’t know how to react to her strange behavior. Physically,

she was there; emotionally, Lynn had drifted into a dark place where none of them

could reach.  She had drifted into a world where none of them could follow; and the

nightmare continued.

Chapter 6
 

The Nightmare Continues

            The storm had stooped; Charles arrived; helping her with her coat and down the icy steps to his car, fussing at Shawn. “You could have cleaned the steps Shawn,” he fussed.  Life goes on, Lynn thought.

“It’s time mother,” he said helping her into his car. Within the fog swirling around her mind, his soft-spoken words reached her ears. Time? Lynn questioned, time for what?

Confused, Lynn starred blankly into the concerned faces of her children. There was something she had to do today, but she could not remember what it was.

            Numbness filled her mind and body, she tripped on the carpet, her boys caught her before she fell. They guided Lynn down the long narrow hall.

            “Are you okay mother?” Charles asked.  Lynn starred blankly into his eyes.

Concerned filled the hazel pools of Chuck’s eyes; anguish, doubt and confusion,

clouded the dark blue pools of Shawn’s eyes. And fear that Lynn was losing touch with reality haunted the faces of all of her children.

            Her daughters also rushed to stand beside her.  With her children beside her,

Lynn walked down the long isle. Lynn stood in front of papa’s casket, starring down into his handsome face, his spirit spoke to her. ‘you came mama, you came.’

            As if she had been awakened from a dream, Lynn’s mind became clear; she smiled down into the casket, speaking to papa in Spanish. ‘yo estoy aqui mi amor, you

estoy aqui.’ I am here my love, I am here.

            With the exception of the casket and chairs, which had been set up for the viewing, the room was empty and cold.  Lynn’s children had gone together and placed a spray of pink and white carnations at the foot of papa’s casket.  Lynn had wanted a spray of red roses, but her credit had been rejected.

            Carol and her children had placed another spray of red carnations at the other side of the casket. Lynn was angry that credit for red roses could not have been extended to a grieving widow whose last name happen to be, ‘Hernandez.’ keep it together her mind warned, Lynn erased the angry thoughts of injustice and discrimination from her mind; today was not the time to think on those thoughts.

            Lynn could not fight all of her battles at one time.  She would slaughter her giants, one giant at a time. But today she needed to think about papa; she needed all her strength to get through this day, tomorrow and the rest of her life without papa.

            Tears of sadness welled up in her eyes,  “Oh papa,” she cried, I can’t even buy you flowers.”

‘It is not important mama,’ papa spirit replied, ‘you are here mama, tu estoy mi amor,

tu estoy, is what is important to me mama, you are here my love, you are here.’

            Lynn thought of how quickly he had been taken from her and how time had slipped away from them. Three short months of wedded bliss, followed by five long months of sickness.  When it looked as if papa would recover and come home, without warning he was gone.  Lynn wiped the tears running down her face.

            “I don’t understand papa,” she cried, “You were getting better.  You came through the operation with flying colors. Your doctors at Hershey Medical Center were

so pleased with your recovery that after four weeks they released you into Chambersburg

Hospital, into the Rehabilitation program.  What happened papa? What happened?”

            ‘No llorar mama, ‘ papa’s sweet spirit whispered, ‘yo estoy aqui para siempre, mi amor, para siempre, (no weeping mama, I am here forever my love, forever). No matter how hard she tried, Lynn couldn’t stop the tears.

“You were doing so good papa,” she cried, “learning to walk again, to bathe, to dress;

You were regaining the strength in your arms and legs. You were doing so well. What happened papa? Why did you leave me? Why?”

            “Mother? Mother, snap out of it.  This is not healthy.  You are talking to Javier as if he can hear you and talk back to you.”  Lynn had not heard her son Charles, come and stand beside her, until suddenly, he was there.  She had been with papa. Lynn chuckled,

If he only knew that papa’s spirit had been speaking with her. But this would stay papa

and Lynn’s secret.  If she dared share this with her children, the question and the doubt

about her sanity would be answered.

            Slowly, a thought took root in her mind, Lynn could not shake it. Could this person lying so still and so cold and so dead, really be papa? Or was this someone’s idea of a cruel hoax?

            Except for the chalky color of the face, it looked like papa.  The body was dressed in papa’s new clothes.  The western tie, a Christmas gift from Shawn, a blue western shirt

with snaps down the front, and dark blue western style jeans, Lynn’s Christmas gift.

            Lynn had wanted had wanted to send the white shirt with the Indian Chief embroidered on the back.  Papa had worn that shirt on their wedding day and Lynn could not find it.  Perhaps it was in papa’s stuff or it could have gotten lost in Chambersburg.

            Papa’s face was too white, he didn’t look natural. The funeral home had used too much make up.  Her papa had not been a, ‘white man,’ but Mexican-Indian, dark and bronze from too many long hours in the hot sun.

            Lynn took the headband and wiped at the make up on papa’s face.  Charles was

shocked and reached for her hand.

“Mother! he cried, “What are you doing?”

“Papa is too white.”  And to the embarrassment of her son, Lynn continued wiping off most of the make up. Charles took her hand and tried to coax her away from papa’s casket.

            “Mother, I know this is a sad time for you,” he spoke softly, “But please try and keep it together. Maybe we should go home now and come back later.” Lynn stared into his hazel eyes, fear stared back at her.

            “You’re afraid I’ve lost my sanity aren’t you” Charles did not reply.  His silence

confirmed that Lynn had expressed his unspoken thoughts.

“Maybe you’re right, maybe I have lost touch with reality.  But I can’t leave just yet.

Papa needs his headband and he wants his wedding ring” Charles sighed.

            “Yes mother, but then, I’m taking you home.” His words were soft, but spoken like a command Lynn needed to obey.

            She turned to look around the room for her other children, as she did, Lynn noticed that the room was no longer empty. Papa’s friends had come to pay their respects.

Lynn recognized some of the faces but their names escaped her memory.  Most of the sad faces starring in her direction were of strangers she didn’t know.

            Papa had kept his home life with her and Shawn separate from work and his friends.  There were only a handful of his very best friends papa had allowed to come to their home.  Lynn remembered talking to papa about it. Lynn had not understood the reason why, she had wanted papa to know that it was okay with her if he had wanted his

friends to visit.  Papa had shaken his head.

“No my love, just a few.” Papa had his reasons and she never questioned his judgment.

            Oblivious to the stares and whispers, Lynn continued with her task.  Gently she lifted papa’s head and tied his headband around it. Reaching into the casket, lifting his left hand, Lynn slid the gold band back on papa’s finger.

            “This ring is a symbol of my continued love for you papa, like you said in our vows papa; not even death will ever take you from me; forever my love, forever.”

Lynn whispered softly for only papa’s spirit to hear her words.  Lynn felt a soft touch on her shoulder, turning she expected to see her sister.

            Then she remembered, Carol just had major surgery, when Lynn needed her the most, she wouldn’t be able to be there.  Lynn’s eyes filled with tears. It was her girlfriend

Shirley who stood beside her; Shirley had just lost her son had put aside her own grief to

be here for her.  Lynn fell into her arms sobbing.

            “Shirley, I am so sorry about your son, I would have been there if I could have.”

“Its okay, you were where you were needed at papa’s side.”

“We didn’t have enough time Shirley,” Lynn sobbed, “We didn’t have enough time.”

“I know, She whispered, “There is never enough time for any of us Lynn, never enough

time for any of us. But papa knows you’re here.”

            Shirley and Lynn had worked together many years before at Community Action in Romney, West Virginia.  When Lynn became disabled and could no longer work, Shirley was working for Legal Aid, and helped Lynn get her disability.

            Lynn could not bear to move away from papa’s casket.  If God would allow her, she would join him in paradise.

“Javier was a good man Lynn,” Shirley said, “He had a lot of friends and loved by them all.  Let’s go and sit down okay? So papa’s friends can say their good-bys.”

            Silently, Lynn sat and watched the mourners file past papa’s casket.  It

touched Lynn’s heart to see these guys touch papa’s casket; make the sign of the cross,

bidding him a final farewell.  Tears of sadness and grief streaked their faces.  Most of them had worked with papa in the orchards and in the tomato field.  They too, had

drank the water filled with the pesticide, which had taken papa’s life.

            Martin stopped and looked down at papa. Gently he touched the casket making the sign of the cross.  Lynn had been so wrapped up in her grief, she had forgotten the

special bond of friendship the two of them had shared. Martin’s shoulders slumped and he sobbed.

“Vaya con Dios, mi amigo, “ he sobbed, “Go with God my friend, go with God.”

Chapter 7
 

Precious Memories

            The viewing had been a nightmare.  Lynn had drifted in and out of a fog, remembering very little of what she had done, or what she may have said. Her daughters Kelly and Susan had been there too, crying and holding her hand.  They had loved papa too.  He had been an easy person to love. At one point Kelly had broke down in tears.

            What was it her daughter had said?  Lynn tried to remember.

“I feel so guilty mom, “ she had said, tears filled the big brown pools of her eyes. But

Why would her daughter feel guilty? It wasn’t her fault papa had died. Lynn was transported back to that day and she remembered.

            The morning of December 11, had dawned cold and snowy.  Lynn was dressed and ready to visit papa.  She had to wait until visiting hours, Lynn marked the time

by taking Susan Christmas shopping.  When that was done, she had to pick up Kelly the children were sick.

            By the time she got to the hospital papa was down in the emergency room. His

blood pressure had dropped; the doctors were trying to bring it back up. She ran to his side. Papa was okay, and happy to see her.

            Lynn had explained what had kept her and papa understood.  He smiled at her,

“Its okay mama, take my babies home.”

“No papa, I need to stay with you, they can wait a little while.” Papa held her hand.

“Mama, its okay.  I will be here when you come back”

            Lynn took them home, she had only been gone a little while, when she returned, and papa was gone.

“If only you had been there with him,” Kelly cried.

“It was our fault,” Susan said, “We kept you from spending that last day with him.”

            Remembering that day, Lynn felt the throbbing pain began anew in her heart.

It seemed that no matter what was going on in her world, someone always needed her. Lynn would not blame her daughters; she blamed herself.

            But even in death papa had kept his promise, he had waited for her return.

He was lying there so peaceful, like he was sleeping. As Lynn turned his head and kissed him, a smile spread across his lips. Papa had waited for her and he knew when Lynn had returned to his bedside.  After she had kissed him, she started screaming; Lynn lost it that day and there was no one with her.

            One nurse yelled at her, “You’re scaring the other patients,” she said.  If Lynn hadn’t been so full of grief, she would have decked her.

“I just lost my husband, the heck with your other patients. I am alone here, do you mind? Can I please get a little compassion, if its not too much trouble for you!” And Lynn didn’t care that she was screaming and yelling.

            A priest from a near by Catholic Church came and offered his help.  Lynn wasn’t Catholic, but she was grateful and accepted.  She had wanted to stay with papa, but they would not let her.  She had come to the hospital with him, now; she would have to go home alone.

            Lynn had been beside him all the time, from the first heart attack in Martinsburg;

She had kept a vigil at his beside.  While she had been gone maybe thirty minutes or less, death had sneaked in and snatched him from her.  No, Lynn could not blame her girls.

It was her fault, when papa had needed her the most; she had not been there.

            One of the last memories she had of the viewing was Shawn crying on her shoulder.

“I loved him mom,” he cried, “I loved him more than dad.  He treated me more like a son than my own father.”  The boys closed her bedroom door, “You need to sleep now mom,” Shawn said, “You need rest for tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow,” Charles said before letting the door close, “Tomorrow this nightmare will be over mother.”

            No you’re wrong Charles, Lynn thought, as she sank down into her bed. This nightmare is not over, it is just beginning. Lynn closed her eyes to sleep, letting her mind travel back into time; to papa’s room at Hershey Medical Center.

            Lynn was waiting in his room when he returned from dialysis. The nurse helped him into bed.  Papa looked tired, he was close to sleep.  Lynn kissed him softly on the cheek. He opened his eyes.

“I’m so tired mama,” he said, “so tired.”

“I know,” she said, “You sleep papa. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

            Lynn curled up in the chair beside his bed. And she thought about what had brought them here to Hershey, so far away from home.  Lynn watched him as he slept.

Papa had grown so tired of the hospitals, from Martinsburg, to Chambersburg, to pick apples where he had collapsed in the field.

            To Chambersburg Hospital, from there to Hershey medical Center.  Papa was 63 years old and he had been fighting so hard. First the heart attack, then the bacterial infection, the operation, now dialysis.  She didn’t know where he got the strength to keep fighting.  But she knew why; she didn’t think papa was fighting for himself; he was fighting for her.

            Papa’s once strong arms now thin, looking like pin cushions from the endless round of needles for blood testing. He was growing so tired of the dialysis treatment leaving him weak and tired.

            Papa never wanted to eat, Lynn had to coax him, “you need to eat papa,” papa

would shake his head.

“Is for dogs mama,” he’d say, “is for dogs.”  But as much as he would complain about the food, when he did eat, he could never seem to get enough of it.

            The only meal papa didn’t complain about was on Thanksgiving Day; it would be the only holiday they would share.

            “The food it is good mama,” papa said smiling, “It is good.” Lynn laughed.

“No for the dogs papa,” she teased.

“Not today mama,” he said, “Not today.” He would take small bites at a time; after eating

the turkey and dressing, Lynn got him a plate of ham and sweet yams, followed by cranberry sauce, pumpkin pie, a thin slice of cake with chocolate ice cream and coffee to drink.

            As papa ate, Lynn sat on the edge of his bed giving silent thanks to God that she

was here with him. Lynn was making plans for the future, when papa was well enough to come home.

            “I can’t wait for you to come home papa,” she said, “Then we can go ahead with our plans.  Sell my trailer and move to Oklahoma like you wanted.” Laying aside his fork, he brought her fingers to his lips and kissed them.

“I love you mama,” he said, tears stung his eyes, “I think maybe, I don’t get better.

“Maybe you need go home without me.”

“Don’t talk like that papa, I won’t let you talk like that. You are getting better everyday,

Papa. Your doctors have said as much.” Lynn said.  A tear rolled down his handsome face, Lynn kissed it away.

“You are my life papa, without you, I would have no life.” Lynn said.

            “You are my life too, mama,” Lynn held him close to her while he cried.

“But I think my life is for a little time more. I’m tired mama,” he said, “But I know you need me; I will fight mi amor, (my love), I will fight to stay here with you.”

            Tears rolled down her face.  Papa had grown so tired of it all, and Lynn had grown tired too; tired of sleeping in hospital waiting rooms. It was taking its toll on her and her health.  But she would not tell papa, she did not want him to worry about her.

            Carol was able to spend a couple of weeks with her at Hershey.  It was good to have her sister near; and papa had been glad to see her there too. If it had not been for Carmen, a social worker at Hershey, Lynn and Carol would not have had a place to sleep,

And when their money ran out, if it had not been for Carmen, they would not have been able to eat.

            But Carmen must have been an angel sent by God, she found resources in the community for them; volunteers opened their homes for people with loved ones at the hospital One such volunteer shared their home with Lynn and Carol.

            After weeks of not eating properly and sleeping in the chair next to papa’s bed, Lynn was able to stretch out on a bed, take daily showers and eat properly.

            Lynn remembers one morning as she got up to use the bathroom, it was early morning, and she opened the bathroom window to look out.  In the backyard she saw a statue of the Virgin Mary with her arms stretched out.

Lynn remarked about the statue to her hostess during breakfast, asking if it was okay for her to look at the statue in the backyard.

            “Honey,” she replied, “We don’t have a statue back there.”

Remembering that now, Lynn knows that seeing the statue must have been God’s way of showing her that papa’s life was in His hands, not Lynn’s.

            Towards the end of their stay in Hershey, when Lynn’s money ran out for food, Carmen was able to provide her with meal tickets from the hospital cafeteria.  When Lynn’s stay at the volunteer’s house was up, Carmen found lodging for her at the

Cancer House in Hershey; when her car broke down, Carmen found a Catholic Church

in Gettysburg, that could provide the funds to have it repaired. Carmen had been an angel

sent by God in Lynn’s time of need.

            One afternoon while papa was down in dialysis, unable to stand the stress any longer, Lynn broke down crying her heart out in Carmen’s arms.

“I don’t know if I can take it anymore,” Lynn cried, “Day after day, sometimes I think he

is getting better, then sometimes I look at papa and I see how hard he is fighting, and I know he is in pain and I just want to tell him to let go and rest. But Carmen I can’t, and that is selfish of me, isn’t it?”

            “Lynn I don’t think its selfish.  You and Javier have been here a long time, and both of you are a long way from home, without friends and family, and his illness, that alone would wear anybody down.  But he is getting better one-day soon, he will be going home.  You have to believe that.”

            Lynn wanted to believe that Carmen was right; that papa was getting well and soon they would leave Hershey and be on their way home. While papa fought the sickness, Lynn stayed faithfully by his side.  As if sleeping in a chair by his bedside, day after day, week after week, she could control their destiny and keep the hands of death

away from them.

            Bright rays of sunshine streamed into her bedroom window.  Lynn didn’t want to wake up, she didn’t want to bury papa.

            The patter of little feet sounded outside of her bedroom door and Manuel her little grandson came running into her room.  Climbing onto her bed, he handed her a picture,

it was of a man and a woman.

“Its you and papa,” he said, “Don’t cry grandma, when I get bigger I’ll put papa back in your bed.”  Lynn hugged him, this sweet little boy, he had loved papa too. All the grandchildren had loved him.

            Javier had told all of them to call him, ‘abuelo,’ (grandfather) in English.

And whenever they would visit, all the grandchildren would run into his arms.  Even after a hard day at work, whenever they would come to West Virginia to visit, papa was never to tired to get down and wrestle with them, or kick a ball around out in the yard.

            Kelly came in after Manuel, Come on now, stop bothering your grandmother.”

Her daughter’s eyes were red and puffy, she had been crying.

“Chuck is here mom,” she said.

“Kelly? Why are you crying? If you’re crying over papa, don’t. I know you and Susan feel guilty because I was with both of you instead of being with papa. But I don’t want you feeling that way, okay? None of us had anyway of knowing that it was papa’s last day.” Kelly slipped her arms around her mother.

            “If there was only something I could do,” she said, “Mom, I’m going to miss him.

He was a good person mom.”

Chapter 8

Time to let go
 

            The funeral home was filled with papa’s friends and Lynn’s.  Despite her operation, her sister Carol was there, along with her two daughters’, Debbie and Susie.

“I can only stay a little while,” she said, “I still can’t sit, but I had to be here for you.  And I had to tell my friend, Javier, good-by.”

            “Oh sis, I can’t let him go, how can I spend the rest of my life without him.”

Carol hugged her, “He will always be in our hearts, sis.  It won’t be easy, but I will be here when you need me.”

“And so will we aunt Lynn,” the girls said giving her a hug.

“Papa’s spirit will always be with you, sis, you know that,” Carol hugged her, “I’m going to say good-by to Javier, then I’ve got to go.  If you need me, please call me.”

            Last night at the viewing Lynn was upset because papa didn’t have any flowers.

But today, as Lynn looked around the room, there were so many flowers she could not have counted them all. Tears filled her eyes.

            “Oh papa, you have your flowers,” Lynn cried as she walked around the casket reading the cards.  She read the cards out loud, she wanted papa to know who had sent them.

“Red carnations papa, from Carol and her family; Red roses papa, from my aunt Bonnie in Arizona; Pink and white carnations papa, from me and the kids; Yellow roses from my brother in Montana; more yellow roses from the staff at Martinsburg Hospital; more red roses papa, from the nurse’s and doctors at Hershey Hospital; a lot of purple lilac’s from

Your friends papa; pink carnations from your employer at the orchard; and white roses from Carmen.

            “Oh papa,” Lynn cried, “You were loved by so many, and today, you have your flowers papa. Papa, I’m never going to have a life without being part of it.” Lynn caressed the casket.  “Papa, I can’t let you go, I can’t”

            Little Michelle took hold of her hand, crying she laid a single rose on papa’s casket.  “Its okay grandma, grandfather is okay now. he’s in heaven and he’s not sick anymore.”

            Lynn and Michelle walked around the baskets picking out special flowers 

from the different sprays. And Bible scripture speaks, ‘and a little child shall lead them,’

Little Michelle just four years old, but wise beyond her years, took her grandmother’s hand and leading her to a seat and cuddle up next to her.

            As friends moved past the coffin paying their respects, Lynn’s mind slipped away from the funeral; to a happier time right before their marriage.

            They were together at Hagerstown Mall shopping for clothes for their wedding day.  Papa was trying on dark Navy blue slacks; they looked grate, hugging his lean frame like a glove.

            “Mama,” he said, “Thirty dollars is too much money.” papa put the slacks back on the hanger and handed them to her.

“No papa, they look good on you.” Lynn said, Mama, the clothes for you is okay.

“But mucho dinero para yo, (too much money for me).” papa was fussing about the price.

“Don’t you like the pants papa?”  Lynn was disappointed that he didn’t want them.

Papa kissed her and laughter danced in his dark Spanish eyes.

“Si mama,” he laughed, “Yo gustar pantalones, pero, es mucho dinero. Yes mama, I like

The pants but is too much money.” he repeated in English.

            It became important to Lynn that papa have the slacks.  They were a good brand name, snug around the waist, hugging his lean frame and showing off the muscles in

his legs.

            “But papa, you have nothing but jeans in your wardrobe and most of your pants are baggy.  Please papa, let me buy them for you.” Papa laughed.

“Okay mama, he said, “If it will make you happy, I will buy the pants.”

            That was so much like papa; Lynn could have spent a hundred dollars on herself, but thirty dollars was too much to spend on him; unselfish, loving and giving, that was her papa.

            Julie and Jessie were there, beside papa’s children; they were her friends and papa’s friends too, or should have been; and yet never once did they speak to her; never once did Julie introduce Lynn to papa’s children; Lynn felt betrayed, like she had done something wrong.

            When papa died Julie came to her house only once.  And before, when papa was alive, they had spent many hours at each other’s houses. Julie had turned her back on their

friendship, and Lynn was at a loss to understand why.

            Lynn erased the hurt from her thoughts; she could not deal with that today.

She watched papa’s three children stare down at their father; Lynn would have like to have introduced herself; she would have like to have told them what a good man their father had been; she would have liked to have told them how happy he had made her;

And how he had loved her, and how much she had loved him.

            But as her friend, Julie should have introduced her; she should have given Lynn the chance to say all these things.  But when his children looked in her direction, they looked angry. Lynn could understand their anger, but what she did not understand why it was directed at her.

            Lynn understood how hard it must be for them, to be away from their father all these years, to be reunited at his funeral. Thinking on these thoughts, Lynn felt very

special to have been chosen by God to meet papa, to have fallen in love, to have

Married him, and to have shared the last eight months of his life with him.

            The priest was praying, translating English into Spanish, the music played softly

behind him.  Lynn sat on the front row, her children sat beside her.  Physically Lynn

was there; but Lynn had chosen to travel back in time; to a happier place, another time,

another day, where she could be with papa.

            It was Sunday, December 10, the night before papa died.  Lynn was curled up on the bed beside papa. His arms were around her; they were watching a wrestling match.

Their laughter rang out, disturbing the quietness of the room.

            They were laughing over the antics of Brother Love, who was holding an interview with Macho Man, Randy Savage and his manager, Scary Sherri.  Macho Man is spouting off about his plans for his opponent, Hulk Hogan; When Hulk appears on the

stage all the devil breaks out on the platform. 

            Papa is laughing so hard his eyes are filled with tears.

“It is metira mama, it is a lie.” Lynn reached over and kissed him.

“But you love it don’t you papa?”

‘Yes mama, I love my wrestling.”

            Lynn felt so good to be here with him.  He was alive and on the road to recovery.

Papa had been through so much; many times during these long five months, it looked

liked papa wouldn’t pull through.

            While waiting for the operation to replace the Aorta Valve in his heart, papa had a second heart attack. Lynn had gone home to Martinsburg, to pay bills and check in on Shawn.  When she returned three days later, papa had a second heart attack; a mild stroke, his doctor’s called it, but it left papa partially paralyzed on his right side.

            Lynn thought about the pesticides that were responsible for his sickness.

Right before their marriage in May, papa had left the camp and moved in with her

the last of week in April, during that week he was trimming trees in Winchester, Va.

            Papa had come home from work and slumped down in his favorite chair.

“Was your hands papa,” Lynn had called from the kitchen, “Dinner is ready.”

When he didn’t answer, Lynn stepped into the living room.  Papa was asleep. His was

face was drawn as if in pain, his dark skin had a slight yellowish tint. Lynn knew that something was wrong.

            “Papa, are you okay?” Papa opened his eyes.

“Yes mama, I am tired today,” he said rubbing his eyes.  “Today in the orchard, the air stinks with spray.  The trees are soaked with it.” It was clear to Lynn that papa and the other workers were in the orchard while the trees were being sprayed.

            “Papa you’re not to be in the orchard when the trees are spraying.”

“I know mama, some of the guys were sick and we wanted to go home.”

“Why didn’t you papa?”

“The boss said, no finish the work, no more job. We had to finish the work.”

“Did you wear a mask or anything papa?”

“No mama, nothing.” Lynn felt the panic rising up in her heart.

            “Papa you have to go to the emergency room.  You could very sick from this.”

“No mama, if I go to the hospital, I will have no more work.”

“But papa!”

“No, I am the man and a soon to be wife does not talk back to her soon to be husband.

            Lynn tried talking to him about it, trying to convince him that he needed to be seen.  But it was like sex before marriage, papa would have none of it. But Lynn could

not ignore the issue.

            “But papa!” Lynn started to protest, but papa would not let her finish what she was going to say.  He was very angry with her.

“No mama! I have to work! There is no time for doctors and hospitals!” Anger flashed in his dark eyes.  It was the first time he had been angry with her, and Lynn didn’t like it.

“Mama, I am the man, and I have spoken! No more talk of doctors and hospitals!”

            Lynn’s eyes filled with tears, she was hurt that papa was angry with her. He went to bed without kissing her good-night; and fussing in Spanish, that, ‘American women,’ do not know when to shut up or how to let a man be a man and make the decisions.

In Mexico women do not talk back to their man.’