Talking To The Wind
"I don't remember the wind blowing this hard in April,"I said to my brother in law.
"No this is very rare,"he said.
My brother in law Jose Luis came over in the morning to visit his sister and have a cup of coffee and something to eat. My wife and I had flown in from San Diego the night before.We were going to stay a couple of weeks in our house in Jiquilpan.For my wife it was to catch up on things with her family.It would be a revolving front door every day.My wife brought gifts for everybody. I'd come out and say hello. I'd chat for awhile,but neither my wife's family nor myself wanted to go beyond any pretenses. Gossip was at the core of every conversation. I didn't want to take any sides so making small talk was sufficient as far as I was concerned. My brother in law Jose and I were sitting at the dining room table having a cup of coffee while my wife was in the bedroom changing her clothes.
"Rogelio,"said my brother in law." I couldn't get out of bed for three days with this cold. My nose was running and my eyes were watering.I still have this cough.It's this pinchi wind that makes things bad."
Jose has diabetes,a disease which seems to be rampant in Mexico. His heart is giving him problems and he has a difficult time walking. His ankles are purple and swollen
"Panchis is still in the clinic for the drugs,"he continued on transitioning from one dismal subject to the other without taking pause to think.
"Do you visit him?"I asked.
"Chingalo,"he smirked."Why should I? He attacked me for no cause.He broke my rib and lacerated my arm. He's no son of mine."
"Where is the clinic?"
"In the next town in San Pedro.He's been there five months.His mother visits him but I won't."
"Does Esperanza say how he's doing?"
"She says he's improving,but that's what mothers say when their son is in a place like that. The psychologists trusted him and his friends to go into town for a few hours by themselves,but Panchis left the group and went to a bar and got drunk.He lost their trust.Chinga la madre."
"Maybe he'll get better,"I said wanting to express some hope.
"He's no good. The drugs control him like they did with his brother. I heard him say to Carlitos the night he overdosed that life is to be lived freely.The next morning Carlitos was dead in his bed. It will be just a matter of time for my other son."
"He could come around,"I said.
"When he gets out he'll just go back with his friends and then he'll return to the drugs."
"Remember Julio Cesar Chavez?His brother ran a clinic.Some robbers broke into his house asking for money.He gave them some,but they wanted more. When he told them he didn't have anymore money they shot him in front of his family.I never heard if they caught the killers."
"The police are in on everything here including the drugs."
"It doesn't surprise me,"I said.
"Pinchi cabrones,"rattled my brother in law.
"Things never change,"I said
"No.No,"mumbled Jose looking into his coffee cup.
"Did you hear anything about who killed Chavez's brother?"
"I don't know. I didn't know that happened."
"To think that they would do that to one of their heroes,"I said.
Jose kept staring into his coffee cup. I thought I'd change the subject again.
"Besides Lazaro Cardenas,Jiquipan had another president,"I said."Augustin Bustamante.That's very good for such a little pueblo like Jiquilpan.The director of the cultural center wants me to do a painting of both of them."
Jose looked up at me with gazed eyes.
"Maria and I drove up to Paredones yesterday," I said again shifting gears.
"I haven't been up there in ten years,"murmured Jose."The ranch is gone. Nothing but weeds.Just a handful of people are left."
"Did you know that Juan "The Baby Bull" Diaz the lightweight champ was born in Paredones?"
Jose was back staring into his coffee.
"He moved to Indio with his family when he was just a kid,"I said.
"Who did you say that was?"
"Juan Diaz.The Baby Bull."
Everything was still.
"Esperanza is upset with me because I won't visit Panchis,"complained Jose."She thinks I'm not a good father."
I preferred to let him go on and eventually run out of steam.
"She was no good for a wife. She never worked out for me.Always standing up for the kids.I should have never married her,but I had to when she got pregnant. Her family would have killed me if I didn't."
There were two sides to that story,but I was in no mood for to get into that discussion.
"The director of the cultural center wants me also to do a painting of Rafael Mendez,"I said trying to invoke some levity.
"Who's that?"said Jose staring away from me..
"You know.Rafael Mendez. The famous trumpet player. When he was a boy Pancho Villa heard him play and asked his parents if he could blow the bugle in the cavalry charge. When they refused Villa said he would shoot them so they let their son ride with Villa and his dorados.Rafael Mendez went on to play in America."
Jose finished his coffee. Just then his sister came out from the bedroom.
"Jose.Can I fix you some breakfast?I have chepos or I can make you some ham and eggs."
"I still have this pinchi cold,"he sniffled."If you have a Coca Cola I'll drink that."
My wife walked to the refrigerator and came back with a bottle of Coke.
"What were you two talking about?"asked my wife.
"I was telling Rogelio that if Panchis ever tries to hit me again I'll have a gun waiting for him."
"Couldn't you two think of talking about anything more pleasant?"asked my wife.
The site where the my wife's family's ranch was. All that there's left is a cornfield.
