The date is January 10, 2009. I am in
Just a little background for anyone who has never visited
Anyway, at the party, a cousin named Jesus was flirting with me. He was extremely drunk but a nice guy, just teasing the Gringa. It was still one of the funniest conversations I have ever had; a combination of Spanish, English swearwords, and words he was making up because I could not understand. We all left at about 10:30. I offered to drive Jesus’ truck because he and Tavo were both extremely drunk, but Jesus decided to drive instead. He was actually driving very well.
We were driving through the city when Jesus passed us. He was weaving in and out of lanes much too fast, with a black Jeep and a grey Jetta right on his tail. When we caught up with them Jesus’ truck was wrecked up on the curb, the back window shot out. Tavo was out in the street holding his arm, something dark running down it. Jesus was on the floor, bleeding
At the house we could only wait. I have never felt so vulnerable in my life. The phone rang and Adriana sank to the floor sobbing, “Jesus esta muerte.” I made a cup of te de manzanilla for Jesus’ sister, wobbling on high heels, make up running. We rubbed Vaporub onto little
That was the moment in my life that I most needed some one to hang on to and cry with. The moment of total terror and loneliness and there was no one there to take care of me. I held my head high and helped to take care of the family when all I really wanted to do was curl up and cry.
It was strange to return to the
I still love
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