Thursday, September 8, 2016

Chapter Two & Chapter Three- Welcome to the USA & The Rebel Without A Cause

Chapter Two - Welcome to the USA

1/1/1982

Once the Coyote crossed the border safely into San Antonio, Texas with the Sanches family, Mr. Sanchez was pleasantly awaiting their arrival. Mrs. Sanchez missed her husband so that she greeted him with heartfelt tears and an embrace so strong that they were overwhelmed with joy.

Most importantly was their understanding due to the sacrifice they had to make in order to survive the tyranny of their communist government. The Sanchez’s decided to leave behind everything they had known to get a fresh start in a new country where they couldn’t even speak their language. They knew the dangers and obstacles would be apparent, but through faith and belief in what they had already overcome, that little separation between them one day they would be reunited with their loved ones. Here they were now together as last.

Mr. Sanchez was a worker who was a skinny, tall, and handsome young man around 21 years of age. He was a very charismatic fellow, always showing his character with his nice smile and sense of humor. He always had grit and oil stuck under the bed of his nails, for he learned a trade as a mechanic. He could fix just about any car with his keen intellect through trial and error.

Mr. Sanchez had worked in the USA for three years and finally saved up enough money between now and then to pay this Coyote very graciously. He knew the Coyote very well, for they had become great friends when Mr. Sanchez himself crossed the border with the Coyote three years prior. He knew the Coyotes services were worth every single penny, for his child and wife were alive and that is all that mattered to him. The Coyote called Mr. Sanchez “A long dong”, which was a funny joke they created together on their trip into the USA. One day “A long dong” will share this adventure story with his son Sal Jr.

Mr. Sanchez went by the name Saul as well. Mr. Saul Sanchez and he was proud of it too.

The Coyote appeared to be around the age of thirty and never did give Mr. Sanchez his real name due to his occupation which was real hush hush. This short Latin lover did keep in touch with the Sanchez family over the years. It brought joy to his heart to finally be able to unite them.

The Coyote always wore a Panama Jack hat to keep the sun off of his face. For over all the years of strolling through the desert he had acquired sun poisoning on his head and face. Since then, Mrs. Sanches learned this from the Coyote and promised herself she would always wear a hat or use an umbrella as well. So, with a tip of his hat the Coyote said his farewells to the Sanchez family and was back on his way to Nicaragua.

Mrs. Sanchez, A woman who was the same age as her husband, was a short and stout lady with the fire and spirit of a lion. She possessed the prettiest smile though her heart was very kind until you pissed her off and then the lion in her would attack. Her caramel skin tone was flawless. As you well know since the dog incident, she was already very protective to those she loved.

Saul was Mrs. Sanchez only son thus far, and she was getting prepared to have another. Saul had the same features as his mom, flawless soft caramel skin, almond shaped brown eyes, auburn hair with red highlights, and the distinct shaped nose of a Mayan Indian. Almost like a miniature version of Mrs. Sanchez except shorter and male, not female. Mayan's are flat footed which is a very prominent feature.

Luckily, Mr. Sanchez had a plan. He told his family that he had put some money to the side. He would continue to work and save until the Sanchez family would have their own roof over their heads.

At this time they did have a place, but it wasn’t their own. The church had taken them in for a short span of time and Sal had to be left alone for a little while so his parents could work and save money faster to secure stability in Saul’s life. Mrs. Sanchez were incredibly grateful to the church and found trust in the people who welcomed them kindly.

03/31/1983
The day finally came when the Sanchez family would leave the hospitable church, and they knew that immigration control would eventually catch up to them. So they set their eyes on
Hollywood…. That’s where they began to make their fresh start. In good ole Cali-fornication. Guess what? Mrs. Sanchez was
Expecting as well now. She was about 5 months pregnant, hoping for a little girl.

The Sanchez were able to get a very small one bedroom apartment. They started off with nothing, having to sleep on the floor until they were able to afford a mattress. They had to eat very meager portions of food because they would have to divvy it out sparingly. Mrs. Sanchez, having to eat for two, was limited which made her pregnancy hard. She was always hungry, irritable, and couldn’t work. Eventually Mr. Sanchez had to pick up more jobs
to make their ends meet, and get some furniture in the little apartment they called, “en la casa”.


















Chapter Three- The Rebel Without A Cause

12-27-1977 _ Pink Floyd- The Wall

Today was the day! Ed was going to ask Brie to be his girl. They were going to go steady and he was going to pop the question right in front of her folks. Ed was a twenty-three-year-old man going for a seventeen-year-old girl. It would seem highly unreasonable for him to go with a teenage girl unless he put a ring on it. It was really Brie’s idea so her parents would let her go off with Ed to a Pink Floyd concert that was happening this very night at the Orpheum Theatre in downtown Boston.

Ed was a rebel without a cause. He just wanted to party and get fucked up all the time. He was tall, about 6.3”, dark brunette with long hair, deep dark brown eye’s that Brie just got lost in. It was only fair that Ed get down on one knee for Brie because he really seemed to love her. Ed almost wasn’t successful in doing so for his pimp purple polyester suit was a little too tight, and ripped at the seams as he bent. Needless to say Mr. and Mrs. Horowitz (Brie’s parent’s) were shocked, and Brie could not stop giggling because she knew Ed wasn’t serious. Brie still said “Yes!” anyways, hugging and boasting with Ed as they slid out the front door.

Right before they made their way into the concert Ed and Brie slipped some gel tabs into their system for they knew the turnout for this psychedelic show would be enormous. Brie was a skinny little girl about 5.7”, dark curly hair, and breathtakingly beautiful. Her smile was really her signature.

People were crowd surfing, smoking pot everywhere, raising their lighters up to the ceiling. Every kind of drug under the giant pink blown up elephant was there; acid, cocaine, nitrous oxide, marijuana, wafers, and LSD. Brie and Ed were loving each other to the point of ecstasy under a statue at a Pink Floyd concert, and that was how I was conceived.
My name is Beatrice but my friends just call me Bea. Yes, so my mom and dad were drug addicts and what else is new in this world? On the day of my birth epidural shots were uncommon . The next best thing for the labor pains, and nobody back then really fucking cared like they do now about abolishing the drug, marijuana which was an easy to attain herbal remedy.

I was a beautiful baby girl, born June 13, 1978. I started out as a brown haired blue eyed baby and ended up with blonde hair, brown eyed little girl. What can I say like a chameleon I adapt and change colors? I personally think that I am split down into two personalities: the angel vs. the devil.

One day while I was lying on the floor watching the first superman movie ever released I was 18 months old and playing with the TV when it fell on my head, and the edge crashed down on the bridge of my nose. I screamed so loud Brie had to lift that anvil off of me, pressing ice to my nose. My mom did her best to protect me, since my dad was too busy with his dealings. Another day while my mom and dad were fighting over spilt milk at the grocery store, I stood up in the shopping cart trying to pull a McGyver just to fall flat on my head and split it wide open. Ed couldn’t seem to take it no more. I was twenty-one months old when my dad Ed left. I guess he couldn’t take me being his kid. Too much stress for him.

Ever since those two traumatic head injuries I haven’t been the same. When my mom called my name I rarely heard her I would just stare into space at the TV not even a blink of an eye, comatose, and it took several beatings to get through to me.

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