Graciela
I’m on the bus on my way to school.
I’ve always enjoyed the ride, watching with delight modest working people. Most
of them work in the fields, most of them come from Mexico, and most of them
seem happy.
There is this three I like a lot,
near Avenue 336. They shave it and trim it every year, but only from the
highway side to avoid the branches to make contact with the electrical wires, I
guess, because the branches carry water and if they touch the cables, they can
cause an electrical outage. Anyway, it looks like the tree is afraid of the
wires and it grows away from them, it is ugly and beautiful at the same time.
Out of town people always complain
of the smells around this area, the cows, the manure, fertilizers, recycled
irrigating water, etc., but they’re wrong. To me it smells like nature,
although I have to admit that sometimes I can smell the city dump. I love the new sports park; I love to see all
the kids playing soccer, enjoying life. I love how a small clean space can give
a lot of happiness to so many people.
At school, I get along with
everybody, I don’t talk bad about anybody and nobody talks bad about me, even
if they did, I don’t care.
All my teachers are okay but my
favorite is my Art class teacher Miss Nunez, she is very caring and likes to
listen, I think of her as my friend. Life is good, quiet and sedated. A little
boring is what I mean to say. I was born here and I had no choice over that,
but I don’t want to die here. God, don’t let me die here, okay?
I have big plans for my future, I’d
like to have at least two different careers, I want to be a writer and maybe a
doctor in medicine or something like that. I know it’s not that hard, I just
know it.
To go back to my house I have to
take two buses, one from school to the edge of town and another one on road 63
straight to Orosi. I’ve been waiting at the bus stop for ten minutes. I decided
to go to the liquor store, right across the street to buy a soda and when I
come out of the store, I see the bus passing by. Darn! Now I have to wait for
two more hours.
I’m tempted to hitch a ride. Actually,
I don’t like the idea very much, because there’s a lot of weirdoes in this town.
One time I got a ride from an old man, he seemed to be a decent family man, but
when he offered me a hundred dollars for a ‘good time’, I got out of his car on
the first stop sign without saying a word.
Ruben
Now the plan is to move out of here
as soon as I can. I need to move to another state. Probably Nevada, but I’m not
going to hitchhike or take the Greyhound bus here in Visalia. I need to find me
a car, go north to Fresno or south to Bakersfield. Go to a bigger city and then
take the Greyhound bus to Las Vegas. I know if I stay here, I’ll be caught in
less than a week, then I’ll be facing probably 25 years of jail time and all
for what? Just for trying to have five minutes of fun, five minutes of sex that
never happened. By the way, I feel very horny I need to find me some pussy
tomorrow.
There must be about a dozen
homeless people under the bridge, and there’s an old pickup truck nearby. I
need to find the owner. It’s easy to be friends with these guys if you’re an alcoholic,
they know your pain. I pretend to be one of them, I told them I just got out of
jail and they like me right away, and they give me some clothes too. I started
a conversation with the owner of that truck. He is drunk already.
Before midnight he asks me if I
know how to drive, 'we need to get more alcohol', he says.
He buys some very
cheap stuff and I shoplift another small bottle of whiskey. When we returned,
he didn’t ask me for his keys, so I just keep them. Now I just need to wait for
them to get even drunker and fall asleep.
Graciela
I made the decision to ask for a
ride. Right away a young guy in a pickup truck stops and I ask him for a ride
to Orosi and he says, “Yeah, get in, I’m going that way.”
After I put my seat belt on, I
realized what a huge mistake I’ve made. He has a screwdriver on his right hand.
He puts it against my ribs, and says, “Yeah, we’re going for a ride, and you
better enjoy it.”
Now is too late to feel regretful,
but I still do, damn it! I shudder and feel dizzy. I’m afraid, but I’m
determined to get out of this trouble unharmed. I won’t be raped, and I won’t
die either. I have to be strong and fight for my life . . . think, think, think. Okay I got something. He’s
wearing his seat belt, and somehow I need to grab his right hand, push the release
button on his seat belt and move the steering wheel. I just need to wait for
the right moment and the right place. It seems a bit complicated, but that’s
all I got.
We are approaching Avenue 328. There’s
an old gas station very close to the highway, a stop light and lots of people.
After that, there’s nothing but an empty road for ten miles where anything can
happen. I know this is my last chance.
I have to go for it; I have to do
it all at the same time with lightning speed.
With my right hand I grab his hand that’s
holding the screw driver and with my left hand I push the button to unlock his
seat belt and with my feet I move the steering wheel. Then I hear a huge noise
from the crash.
When I open my eyes, he’s not at
the driver’s seat. The windshield is broken, I get out of the truck and then I
see him. He is face down, all mangled and twisted, next to the gas pump, he
can’t be alive. We crashed into another vehicle, a person was pumping gas but
he was not injured, then I check myself. My entire body, no blood, just a little
body pain, but I think I’m okay.
Graciela
I made the decision to ask for a
ride. Right away a young guy in a pickup truck stops and I ask him for a ride
to Orosi and he says, “Yeah, get in, I’m going that way”
“There are a lot of criminals
around this area, you shouldn’t be asking for rides, it’s not safe,” he tells
me.
“Yes, I know, but I don’t want to
be waiting for the bus for two more hours, it’s boring.” I reply. He must be in
his early twenties, his hair is tangled and disheveled and a little dirty,
probably just got out of work or bed.
“So, you want to have a little fun?”
he asks.
Shit! This doesn’t look good and I
don’t see a stop sign or a stop light anywhere near, so I can jump out like I
did with the old man. I’m screwed, we’re still about twelve miles from Orosi.
“No, I need to pick up my little
brother from school and do my homework and do some chores.” I answer, and he
keeps driving.
“Come on, you look like you need a
little fun, besides there’s no school tomorrow.” he insists.
I feel like I’m in serious trouble.
He’s going faster now, there’s not a soul in sight. “No, really, I want to get
out, please stop.” I respond.
We’re approaching a dairy farm,
lots of cows, but no people, even if I scream nobody would listen. Just past the
dairy farm he turns right on a dirt road, but he’s not going slow enough so I
can jump out. He finally stops the pick up behind two trees. I know nobody can
see us.
He grabs me by the hair and pulls
me out and with a screwdriver on his right hand, he says, “I told you we were
going to have a little fun,”
He pushes me to the ground, still
pulling my hair, he jumps on top of me and with the screwdriver on my throat he
says, “My name’s Ruben, what’s yours, baby?”
I say to myself think, think, think
. . . and I think I need to get out of
my body for a little while . . . I am in
the Sequoia Park hiking up along the stream, admiring all these old trees . . .
Ouch! I feel a deep pricking pain
at the center of my body . . . I am walking
in the middle of the shallow river, looking up where the trees connect to the
sky. All the trees point to heaven where I should be.
After a long while, when I come
back to my body, I’m all alone, I stand up, I’m alive and complete. I see no
blood anywhere, except . . . on my private parts.
When I start walking to the main
road, I also start to think about Miss Nunez, because I need to ask her for a
favor. I’ve heard about a pill you can take the day after you have sex, so you
don’t get pregnant. I’m going to ask her about that, not as a teacher but as a
friend, because I think of her as my friend.
Graciela.
I made the decision to ask for a
ride, right away a young guy in a pickup truck stops and I ask him for a ride
to Orosi, and he says “Yeah, get in, I’m going that way.”
“Hi, how you doing, my name’s
Ruben, what’s yours?” he asks me, as I fasten my seat belt.
“Hi, I’m doing fine, my name’s
Graciela.” he looks a little dirty but he seems to be a decent person.
“I’m from out of town, just passing
by but I can stay if you show me around, you know, we can have a good time.” he
says.
I have a strange feeling about this
already. It surprises me how fast things can change, and usually for the worse.
“No, thanks, but I have to go home, now if you stop on the next stop sign, I’ll
be fine.” I answer, trying to sound casual, but I am very worried.
“I don’t think so, I said we can
have a good time and we will,” he says. He’s doing 60 miles an hour now,
there’s a stop light up ahead. I wish it turned red by the time we get there,
so I can jump out. Green, green, green, damn! We just passed it, now, all I see
is a long stretch of nothingness. I know I am in deep trouble.
“Okay, Graciela, today’s your lucky
day, we’re going to have sex, you can enjoy or you can suffer, it’s up to you.”
He ends the sentence as he touches the skin of my leg.
My whole body starts trembling. I’m
so mad at myself, I wish it was tomorrow already, so I could forget about
today. How can I be so dumb?
My fists are tight, my knuckles are
white, and I feel so helpless, so vulnerable. “Come on man, you don’t seem to
be a bad guy, just pull over and let me out please, I beg you.” I say this as I
try to hold my tears. Then he turns on a dirt road and goes to a shed, behind
an abandoned house. He grabs me by the hand before he makes a complete stop. He
then pulls me to the shed and tells me to take off my clothes, threatening me
with a screwdriver on his right hand.
I suddenly remember about a rape
case I heard on the news, where the victim faked enjoying the whole episode and
when the rapist was done, he gave her his phone number, so she can call him
anytime for more sex. But she called the cops instead, and they got him. Well,
I’m not giving him that satisfaction.
I’m just going to be lying down
there, like a log. I’ll ignore him. I’m not going to fake enjoyment or
suffering. I won’t show any kind of feelings. I don’t want to get hurt and
above of all I don’t want to die.
We’re both naked on the ground. I’m
on my back and he’s holding me between his legs. Definitely this is not how I planned to
lose my virginity. When he’s done, he turns me face down and does
it again, then again and then again. Then he rolls me over, like a sack of
potatoes, and says, “You bitch, say something, scream, yell, hit me, cry, do
something you stupid bitch!” Then he says, “I think you deserve to die.”
He then elevates the screwdriver with
both hands above his head, and in a blink of an eye and with all the force he’s
got, he inserts the screwdriver on my chest. The last sound I heard was ‘thump’.
I think I feel my soul exiting my
body. I can see myself lying there with the screwdriver on my chest. I can only
see the handle, protruding from my breast.
I’m thinking about my mom, my dad, my life, cut so abruptly. I am also
thinking about my unfulfilled dreams, my future . . . that’s now my past.
How can you do this God? In my
entire life, I asked you for only one favor . . . 'I don’t want to die in this
miserable town . . .' and you let me down. It was a simple favor, easy for you
to concede. Why did you finish with me this way? Why?
Graciela
I made the decision to ask for a
ride, right away, a middle age man in a pickup truck stops. Oh shit, it’s my
dad! I’m in real trouble now.
“Graciela! What are you doing
asking for a ride? I can’t believe it. Don’t you know how dangerous it is?” my
dad says in a very alarming voice.
“It’s not so dangerous dad, it’s
day time, there’s a lot of people around.” I reply trying to minimize the gravity of
the situation.
“No, Graciela, you have to promise
me to never ask for rides, it’s not safe and there’s no need. Your mom and I
would die if something bad happens to you. You have to promise you won’t do it
again.”
“Yes, dad, I promise.” I know my
response is sincere. As I get on the truck, I kiss him on the cheek.
“I promise you daddy.” and I kiss him again.
Edmundo Barraza
Visalia Ca. 11-17-2010.
