TOTHEMEMORYOF

ESPERANZAORTEGAMUÑOZHERNANDEZELGART,

MIABUELITA.

BASKETSOFGRAPESTOMYEDITOR,

TRACYMACK,FORPATIENTLYWAITING

FORFRUITTOFALL.

ROSESTOOZELLABELL,JESSMARQUEZ,

DONBELL,ANDHOPEMUÑOZBELL

FORSHARINGTHEIRSTORIES.

SMOOTHSTONESANDYARNDOLLSTO

ISABELSCHON,PH.D.,LETICIAGUADARRAMA,

TERESAMLAWER,ANDMACARENASALAS

FORTHEIREXPERTISEANDASSISTANCE.

TableofContentsTitlePage

Dedication

Epigraph

Aguascalientes,Mexico1924

LasUvasGrapesSixYearsLater

LasPapayasPapayas

LosHigosFigs

LasGuayabasGuavas

LosMelonesCantaloupes

LasCebollasOnions

LasAlmendrasAlmonds

LasCiruelasPlums

LasPapasPotatoes

LosAguacatesAvocados

LosEspárragosAsparagus

LosDuraznosPeaches

LasUvasGrapes

Author’sNote

AfterWords

AbouttheAuthor

Q&AwithPamMuñozRyan

MakeYourOwnJamaicaFlowerPunch(HibiscusFlowerPunch)

MakingMama'sYarnDoll

ThoseFamiliarSayings

WhatStoryDoYouHavetoTell?

ASneakPeekatBecomingNaomiLeon

Copyright

Aquelquehoysecae,selevantarámañana.

Hewhofallstodaymayrisetomorrow.

Esmásricoelricocuandoempobrecequeelpobrecuandoenriquece.

Therichpersonisricherwhenhebecomespoor,thanthepoorperson

whenhebecomesrich.

—MEXICANPROVERBS

“Our land is alive,Esperanza,” saidPapa, takingher small hand as theywalked through the gentleslopes of the vineyard.Leafy green vines draped the arbors and the grapeswere ready to drop.

Esperanzawassixyearsoldandlovedtowalkwithherpapathroughthewindingrows,gazingupathimandwatchinghiseyesdancewithlovefortheland.“Thiswholevalleybreathesand lives,”hesaid,sweepinghisarmtoward thedistantmountains that

guarded them.“Itgivesus thegrapesand then theywelcomeus.”Hegently touchedawild tendril thatreached into the row,as if ithadbeenwaiting to shakehishand.Hepickedupahandfulofearthandstudiedit.“Didyouknowthatwhenyouliedownontheland,youcanfeelitbreathe?Thatyoucanfeelitsheartbeating?”“Papi,Iwanttofeelit,”shesaid.“Come.”Theywalkedtotheendoftherow,wheretheinclineofthelandformedagrassyswell.Papalaydownonhisstomachandlookedupather,pattingthegroundnexttohim.Esperanzasmoothedherdressandkneltdown.Then,likeacaterpillar,sheslowlyinchedflatnextto

him,theirfaceslookingateachother.ThewarmsunpressedononeofEsperanza’scheeksandthewarmearthontheother.Shegiggled.“Shhh,”hesaid.“Youcanonlyfeeltheearth’sheartbeatwhenyouarestillandquiet.”Sheswallowedherlaughterandafteramomentsaid,“Ican’thearit,Papi.”“Aguántatetantitoylafrutacaeráentumano,”hesaid.“Waitalittlewhileandthefruitwillfall

intoyourhand.Youmustbepatient,Esperanza.”Shewaitedandlaysilent,watchingPapa’seyes.And then she felt it. Softly at first.A gentle thumping. Then stronger.A resounding thud, thud, thud

againstherbody.Shecouldhearit,too.Thebeatrushinginherears.Shoomp,shoomp,shoomp.ShestaredatPapa,notwantingtosayaword.Notwantingtolosethesound.Notwantingtoforgetthe

feeloftheheartofthevalley.Shepressedclosertotheground,untilherbodywasbreathingwiththeearth’s.AndwithPapa’s.The

threeheartsbeatingtogether.ShesmiledatPapa,notneedingtotalk,hereyessayingeverything.Andhissmileansweredhers.Tellingherthatheknewshehadfeltit.

PapahandedEsperanza theknife.The short bladewas curved like a scythe, its fatwoodenhandlefittingsnuglyinherpalm.Thisjobwasusuallyreservedfortheeldestsonofawealthyrancher,butsinceEsperanzawasanonlychildandPapa’sprideandglory,shewasalwaysgiventhehonor.LastnightshehadwatchedPapasharpentheknifebackandforthacrossastone,sosheknewthetoolwasedgedlikearazor.“Cuídatelosdedos,”saidPapa.“Watchyourfingers.”TheAugustsunpromisedadryafternooninAguascalientes,Mexico.Everyonewholivedandworked

onElRanchodelasRosaswasgatheredattheedgeofthefield:Esperanza’sfamily,thehouseservantsintheir longwhiteaprons, thevaquerosalreadysittingon theirhorses ready to rideout to thecattle,andfiftyorsixtycampesinos,strawhatsintheirhands,holdingtheirownknivesready.Theywerecoveredtop tobottom, in long-sleevedshirts,baggypants tiedat theankleswithstring,andbandanaswrappedaroundtheirforeheadsandneckstoprotectthemfromthesun,dust,andspiders.Esperanza,ontheotherhand,worealightsilkdressthatstoppedabovehersummerboots,andnohat.Ontopofherheadawidesatinribbonwastiedinabigbow,thetailstrailinginherlongblackhair.The clusters were heavy on the vine and ready to deliver. Esperanza’s parents, Ramona and Sixto

Ortega,stoodnearby,Mama,tallandelegant,herhairintheusualbraidedwreaththatcrownedherhead,and Papa, barely taller thanMama, his grayingmustache twisted up at the sides. He swept his handtowardthegrapevines,signalingEsperanza.Whenshewalkedtowardthearborsandglancedbackatherparents, they both smiled and nodded, encouraging her forward. When she reached the vines, sheseparatedtheleavesandcarefullygraspedathickstem.Sheputtheknifetoit,andwithaquickswipe,theheavyclusterofgrapesdroppedintoherwaitinghand.EsperanzawalkedbacktoPapaandhandedhimthefruit.Papakisseditandhelditupforalltosee.“¡Lacosecha!”saidPapa.“Harvest!”“¡Ole!¡Ole!”Acheerechoedaroundthem.Thecampesinos,thefield-workers,spreadoutoverthelandandbeganthetaskofreapingthefields.

EsperanzastoodbetweenMamaandPapa,withherarmslinkedtotheirs,andadmiredtheactivityoftheworkers.“Papi, this ismyfavoritetimeofyear,”shesaid,watchingthebrightlycoloredshirtsof theworkers

slowlymovingamongthearbors.Wagonsrattledbackandforthfromthefieldstothebigbarnswherethegrapeswouldbestoreduntiltheywenttothewinery.“Is the reason becausewhen the picking is done, it will be someone’s birthday and time for a big

fiesta?”Papaasked.

Esperanzasmiled.Whenthegrapesdeliveredtheirharvest,shealwaysturnedanotheryear.Thisyear,shewouldbe thirteen.Thepickingwould take threeweeksand then, likeeveryotheryear,MamaandPapawouldhostafiestafortheharvest.Andforherbirthday.MarisolRodríguez,herbest friend,wouldcomewithher family tocelebrate.Her fatherwasa fruit

rancherandtheylivedontheneighboringproperty.Eventhoughtheirhouseswereacresapart,theymeteverySaturday beneath the holmoak on a rise between the two ranches.Her other friends,Chita andBertina,wouldbeat theparty, too,but theylivedfartherawayandEsperanzadidn’tseethemasoften.Their classesatSt.Francisdidn’t start againuntil after theharvest and shecouldn’twait to see them.Whentheywerealltogether,theytalkedaboutonething:theirQuinceañeras,thepresentationpartiestheywouldhavewhentheyturnedfifteen.Theystillhadtwomoreyearstowait,butsomuchtodiscuss—thebeautifulwhitegownstheywouldwear,thebigcelebrationswheretheywouldbepresented,andthesonsoftherichestfamilieswhowoulddancewiththem.AftertheirQuinceañeras,theywouldbeoldenoughtobecourted,marry,andbecome laspatronas, theheadsof theirhouseholds, rising to thepositionsoftheirmothersbeforethem.Esperanzapreferredtothink,though,thatsheandhersomeday-husbandwouldlivewithMamaandPapaforever.Becauseshecouldn’timaginelivinganywhereotherthanElRanchodelasRosas.Orwithanyfewerservants.Orwithoutbeingsurroundedbythepeoplewhoadoredher.

It had taken every day of three weeks to put the harvest to bed and now everyone anticipated thecelebration.EsperanzarememberedMama’sinstructionsasshegatheredrosesfromPapa’sgarden.“Tomorrow,bouquetsofrosesandbasketsofgrapesoneverytable.”Papahadpromisedtomeetherinthegardenandheneverdisappointedher.Shebentovertopickared

bloom,fullyopened,andprickedherfingeronaviciousthorn.Bigpearlsofbloodpulsedfromthetipofherthumbandsheautomaticallythought,“badluck.”Shequicklywrappedherhandinthecornerofherapronanddismissedthepremonition.Thenshecautiouslyclippedtheblownrosethathadwoundedher.Looking toward the horizon, she saw the last of the sun disappear behind theSierraMadre.Darknesswouldsettlequicklyandafeelingofuneasinessandworrynaggedather.WherewasPapa?Hehad left early thatmorningwith thevaqueros towork the cattle.Andhewas

alwayshomebeforesundown,dustyfromthemesquitegrasslandsandstampinghisfeetonthepatiotogetridofthecrustydirtonhisboots.Sometimesheevenbroughtbeefjerkythatthecattlemenhadmade,butEsperanzaalwayshadtofinditfirst,searchinghisshirtpocketswhilehehuggedher.Tomorrowwasherbirthdayandsheknewthatshewouldbeserenadedatsunrise.Papaandthemen

who lived on the ranch would congregate below her window, their rich, sweet voices singing LasMañanitas,thebirthdaysong.ShewouldruntoherwindowandwavekissestoPapaandtheothers,thendownstairsshewouldopenhergifts.SheknewtherewouldbeaporcelaindollfromPapa.Hehadgiven

her one every year since she was born. AndMamawould give her something she hadmade: linens,camisolesorblousesembroideredwithherbeautifulneedlework.Thelinensalwayswentintothetrunkattheendofherbedforalgúndía,forsomeday.Esperanza’s thumbwouldnot stopbleeding.Shepickedup thebasketof rosesandhurried from the

garden,stoppingonthepatiotorinseherhandinthestonefountain.Asthewatersoothedher,shelookedthroughthemassivewoodengatesthatopenedontothousandsofacresofPapa’sland.EsperanzastrainedhereyestoseeadustcloudthatmeantriderswerenearandthatPapawasfinally

home.Butshesawnothing.Intheduskylight,shewalkedaroundthecourtyardtothebackof thelargeadobeandwoodhouse.ThereshefoundMamasearchingthehorizon,too.“Mama,myfinger.Anangrythornstabbedme,”saidEsperanza.“Badluck,”saidMama,confirmingthesuperstition,butshehalf-smiled.Theybothknewthatbadluck

couldmeannothingmorethandroppingapanofwaterorbreakinganegg.MamaputherarmsaroundEsperanza’swaistandbothsetsofeyessweptoverthecorrals,stables,and

servants’quartersthatsprawledinthedistance.EsperanzawasalmostastallasMamaandeveryonesaidshewouldsomedaylookjustlikeherbeautifulmother.Sometimes,whenEsperanzatwistedherhairontopofherheadandlookedinthemirror,shecouldseethatitwasalmosttrue.Therewasthesameblackhair, wavy and thick. Same dark lashes and fair, creamy skin. But it wasn’t precisely Mama’s face,becausePapa’seyesweretheretoo,shapedlikefat,brownalmonds.“He is just a little late,” saidMama.Andpart ofEsperanza’smindbelievedher.But theotherpart

scoldedhim.“Mama,theneighborswarnedhimjustlastnightaboutbandits.”Mamanoddedandbitthecornerofherlipinworry.Theybothknewthateventhoughitwas1930and

the revolution in Mexico had been over for ten years, there was still resentment against the largelandowners.“Changehasnotcomefastenough,Esperanza.Thewealthystillownmostofthelandwhilesomeofthe

poorhavenotevenagardenplot.Therearecattlegrazingonthebigranchesyetsomepeasantsareforcedtoeatcats.Papaissympatheticandhasgivenlandtomanyofhisworkers.Thepeopleknowthat.”“ButMama,dothebanditsknowthat?”“Ihopeso,”saidMamaquietly.“IhavealreadysentAlfonsoandMigueltolookforhim.Let’swait

inside.”

TeawasreadyinPapa’sstudyandsowasAbuelita.“Come,minieta,mygranddaughter,”saidAbuelita,holdingupyarnandcrochethooks.“Iamstartinga

newblanketandwillteachyouthezigzag.”

Esperanza’sgrandmother,whomeveryonecalledAbuelita,livedwiththemandwasasmaller,older,morewrinkledversionofMama.Shelookedverydistinguished,wearingarespectableblackdress,thesamegoldloopssheworeinherearseveryday,andherwhitehairpulledbackintoabunatthenapeofherneck.ButEsperanza lovedhermoreforhercapriciousways thanforherpropriety.Abuelitamighthost a group of ladies for a formal tea in the afternoon, then after they had gone, be foundwanderingbarefootinthegrapes,withabookinherhand,quotingpoetrytothebirds.AlthoughsomethingswerealwaysthesamewithAbuelita—alace-edgedhandkerchiefpeekingoutfrombeneaththesleeveofherdress—othersweresurprising:aflowerinherhair,abeautifulstoneinherpocket,oraphilosophicalsayingsaltedintoherconversation.WhenAbuelitawalkedintoaroom,everyonescrambledtomakehercomfortable.EvenPapawouldgiveuphischairforher.Esperanza complained, “Mustwe always crochet to take ourminds offworry?”She sat next to her

grandmotheranyway,smellingherever-presentaromaofgarlic,facepowder,andpeppermint.“Whathappenedtoyourfinger?”askedAbuelita.“Abigthorn,”saidEsperanza.Abuelitanoddedandsaidthoughtfully,“Nohayrosasinespinas.Thereisnorosewithoutthorns.”Esperanzasmiled,knowingthatAbuelitawasn’ttalkingaboutflowersatallbutthattherewasnolife

without difficulties. Shewatched the silver crochet needle dance back and forth in her grandmother’shand.Whenastrandofhairfellintoherlap,Abuelitapickeditupandhelditagainsttheyarnandstitcheditintotheblanket.“Esperanza, in thiswaymy love and goodwisheswill be in the blanket forever.Nowwatch. Ten

stitchesuptothetopofthemountain.Addonestitch.Ninestitchesdowntothebottomofthevalley.Skipone.”EsperanzapickedupherowncrochetneedleandcopiedAbuelita’smovementsandthenlookedather

owncrocheting.Thetopsofhermountainswerelopsidedandthebottomsofhervalleyswereallbunchedup.Abuelita smiled, reachedover, andpulled theyarn, unraveling all ofEsperanza’s rows. “Donot be

afraidtostartover,”shesaid.Esperanzasighedandbeganagainwithtenstitches.Softlyhumming,Hortensia,thehousekeeper,cameinwithaplateofsmallsandwiches.Sheofferedone

toMama.“No,thankyou,”saidMama.HortensiasetthetraydownandbroughtashawlandwrappeditprotectivelyaroundMama’sshoulders.

Esperanza couldn’t remember a timewhenHortensia had not taken care of them. Shewas a ZapotecIndianfromOaxaca,withashort,solidfigureandblue-blackhairinabraiddownherback.Esperanzawatchedthetwowomenlookoutintothedarkandcouldn’thelpbutthinkthatHortensiawasalmosttheoppositeofMama.

“Don’tworrysomuch,”saidHortensia.“AlfonsoandMiguelwillfindhim.”Alfonso,Hortensia’shusband,waseljefe,theboss,ofallthefield-workersandPapa’scompañero,his

close friendandcompanion.Hehad the samedark skinandsmall statureasHortensia, andEsperanzathoughthisroundeyes,longeyelids,anddroopymustachemadehimlooklikeaforlornpuppy.Hewasanythingbutsad,though.HelovedthelandasPapadidandithadbeenthetwoofthem,workingsidebyside,whohadresurrectedtheneglectedrosegardenthathadbeeninthefamilyforgenerations.Alfonso’sbrotherworkedintheUnitedStatessoAlfonsoalwaystalkedaboutgoingtheresomeday,buthestayedinMexicobecauseofhisattachmenttoPapaandElRanchodelasRosas.MiguelwasAlfonsoandHortensia’sson,andheandEsperanzahadplayedtogethersincetheywere

babies.Atsixteen,hewasalreadytaller thanbothofhisparents.HehadtheirdarkskinandAlfonso’sbig,sleepyeyes,andthickeyebrowsthatEsperanzaalwaysthoughtwouldgrowintoone.Itwastruethatheknew the farthest reachesof the ranchbetter thananyone.SinceMiguelwasayoungboy,PapahadtakenhimtopartsofthepropertythatevenEsperanzaandMamahadneverseen.Whenshewasyounger,Esperanzausedtocomplain,“Whydoeshealwaysgettogoandnotme?”Papawouldsay,“Becauseheknowshowtofixthingsandheislearninghisjob.”MiguelwouldlookatherandbeforeridingoffwithPapa,hewouldgiveheratauntingsmile.Butwhat

Papasaidwastrue,too.Miguelhadpatienceandquietstrengthandcouldfigureouthowtofixanything:plowsandtractors,especiallyanythingwithamotor.Severalyearsago,whenEsperanzawasstillayounggirl,MamaandPapahadbeendiscussingboys

from“goodfamilies”whomEsperanzashouldmeetsomeday.Shecouldn’t imaginebeingmatchedwithsomeoneshehadnevermet.Sosheannounced,“IamgoingtomarryMiguel!”Mamahadlaughedatherandsaid,“Youwillfeeldifferentlyasyougetolder.”“No,Iwon’t,”Esperanzahadsaidstubbornly.Butnowthatshewasayoungwoman,sheunderstoodthatMiguelwasthehousekeeper’ssonandshe

was the ranchowner’s daughter andbetween them ran a deep river.Esperanza stoodonone side andMiguel stood on the other and the river could never be crossed. In a moment of self-importance,EsperanzahadtoldallofthistoMiguel.Sincethen,hehadspokenonlyafewwordstoher.Whentheirpathscrossed,henoddedandsaidpolitely,“Mireina,myqueen,”butnothingmore.Therewasnoteasingorlaughingortalkingabouteverylittlething.Esperanzapretendednottocare,thoughshesecretlywishedshehadnevertoldMiguelabouttheriver.Distracted,Mamapacedatthewindow,eachstepmakingahollowtappingsoundonthetilefloor.Hortensialitthelamps.Theminutespassedintohours.“Ihearriders,”saidMama,andsheranforthedoor.ButitwasonlyTíoLuisandTíoMarco,Papa’solderstepbrothers.TíoLuiswasthebankpresident

andTíoMarcowasthemayorofthetown.Esperanzadidn’tcarehowimportanttheywerebecauseshe

didnotlikethem.Theywereseriousandgloomyandalwaysheldtheirchinstoohigh.TíoLuiswastheeldest and Tío Marco, who was a few years younger and not as smart, always followed his olderbrother’s lead, likeunburro, adonkey.Even thoughTíoMarcowas themayor,hedideverythingTíoLuistoldhimtodo.Theywerebothtallandskinny,withtinymustachesandwhitebeardsonjustthetipsoftheirchins.EsperanzacouldtellthatMamadidn’tlikethemeither,butshewasalwayspolitebecausetheywerePapa’sfamily.MamahadevenhostedpartiesforTíoMarcowhenheranformayor.NeitherhadevermarriedandPapasaiditwasbecausetheylovedmoneyandpowermorethanpeople.Esperanzathoughtitwasbecausetheylookedliketwounderfedbillygoats.“Ramona,”saidTíoLuis.“Wemayhavebadnews.Oneofthevaquerosbroughtthistous.”HehandedMamaPapa’s silverbeltbuckle, theonlyoneof itskind,engravedwith thebrandof the

ranch.Mama’sfacewhitened.Sheexaminedit,turningitoverandoverinherhand.“Itmaymeannothing,”

shesaid.Then,ignoringthem,sheturnedtowardthewindowandbeganpacingagain,stillclutchingthebeltbuckle.“Wewillwaitwithyouinyourtimeofneed,”saidTíoLuis,andashepassedEsperanza,hepattedher

shoulderandgaveitagentlesqueeze.Esperanzastaredafterhim.Inherentirelife,shecouldn’trememberhimevertouchingher.Heruncles

werenotlikethoseofherfriends.Theyneverspoketoher,playedoreventeasedher.Infact,theyactedasifshedidn’texistatall.Andforthatreason,TíoLuis’ssuddenkindnessmadehershiverwithfearforPapa.AbuelitaandHortensiabeganlightingcandlesandsayingprayersforthemen’ssafereturn.Mama,with

herarmshuggingherchest,swayedbackandforthatthewindow,nevertakinghereyesfromthedarkness.They tried to pass the timewith small talk but theirwords dwindled into silence.Every sound of thehouseseemedmagnified,theclockticking,someonecoughing,theclinkofateacup.Esperanzastruggledwithherstitches.Shetriedtothinkaboutthefiestaandallthepresentsshewould

receivetomorrow.Shetriedtothinkofbouquetsofrosesandbasketsofgrapesoneverytable.ShetriedtothinkofMarisolandtheothergirls,gigglingandtellingstories.Butthosethoughtswouldonlystayinhermindforamomentbeforetransformingintoworry,becauseshecouldn’tignorethethrobbingsorenessinherthumbwherethethornhadleftitsunluckymark.Itwasn’tuntil thecandelabraheldnothingbut short stubsof tallow thatMama finally said, “I seea

lantern.Someoneiscoming!”They hurried to the courtyard and watched a distant light, a small beacon of hope swaying in the

darkness.Thewagoncameintoview.AlfonsoheldthereinsandMiguelthelantern.Whenthewagonstopped,

Esperanzacouldseeabodyinback,completelycoveredwithablanket.“Where’sPapa?”shecried.

Miguel hung his head. Alfonso didn’t say a word but the tears running down his round cheeksconfirmedtheworst.Mamafainted.AbuelitaandHortensiarantoherside.Esperanzafeltherheartdrop.Anoisecamefromhermouthandslowly,herfirstbreathofgriefgrew

intoatormentedcry.Shefelltoherkneesandsankintoadarkholeofdespairanddisbelief.

E

“EstassonlasmañanitasquecantabaelReyDavidalasmuchachasbonitas;selascantamosaquí.ThesearethemorningsongswhichKingDavidusedtosingtoalltheprettygirls;wesingthemheretoyou.”

speranzaheardPapaandtheotherssinging.Theywereoutsideherwindowandtheirvoiceswereclearandmelodic.Beforeshewasaware,shesmiledbecauseherfirst thoughtwas that todaywasherbirthday.IshouldgetupandwavekissestoPapa.Butwhensheopenedhereyes,sherealizedshewasinherparents’bed,onPapa’ssidethatstillsmelledlikehim,andthesonghadbeeninherdreams.Whyhadn’tshesleptinherownroom?Thentheeventsoflastnightwrenchedhermindintoreality.Hersmilefaded,herchesttightened,andaheavyblanketofanguishsmotheredhersmallestjoy.Papaandhisvaqueroshadbeenambushedandkilledwhilemendingafenceonthefarthestreachesof

theranch.Thebanditsstoletheirboots,saddles,andhorses.AndtheyeventookthebeefjerkythatPapahadhiddeninhispocketsforEsperanza.Esperanzagotoutofbedandwrappedunchalaroundhershoulders.Theshawlfeltheavierthanusual.

Wasittheyarn?Orwasherheartweighingherdown?Shewentdownstairsandstoodinlasala,thelargeentryhall.Thehousewasemptyandsilent.Wherewaseveryone?ThensherememberedthatAbuelitaandAlfonsoweretakingMamatoseethepriestthismorning.BeforeshecouldcallforHortensia,therewasaknockingatthefrontdoor.“Whoisthere?”calledEsperanzathroughthedoor.“ItisSeñorRodríguez.Ihavethepapayas.”Esperanzaopenedthedoor.Marisol’sfatherstoodbeforeher,hishatinhishand.Besidehimwasabig

boxofpapayas.“Yourfatherorderedthesefrommeforthefiestatoday.Itriedtodeliverthemtothekitchenbutnoone

answered.”ShestaredatthemanwhohadknownPapasincehewasaboy.Thenshelookedatthegreenpapayas

ripening to yellow. She knew why Papa had ordered them. Papaya, coconut, and lime salad wasEsperanza’sfavoriteandHortensiamadeiteveryyearonherbirthday.Her facecrumbled. “Señor,” she said, chokingback tears. “Haveyounotheard?My…mypapa is

dead.”SeñorRodríguezstaredblankly,thensaid,“¿Quépasó,niña?Whathappened?”Shetookaquiverybreath.Asshetoldthestory,shewatchedthegrieftwistSeñorRodríguez’sfaceand

overtakehimashe satdownon thepatiobench, shakinghishead.She felt as if shewere in someoneelse’sbody,watchingasadscenebutunabletohelp.HortensiawalkedoutandputherarmaroundEsperanza.ShenoddedtoSeñorRodríguez,thenguided

Esperanzabackupthestairstothebedroom.“Heorderedthepa…papayas,”sobbedEsperanza.“Iknow,”whisperedHortensia,sittingnexttoheronthebedandrockingherbackandforth.“Iknow.”

Therosaries,masses,andfunerallastedthreedays.PeoplewhomEsperanzahadneverseenbeforecametotheranchtopaytheirrespects.Theybroughtenoughfoodtofeedtenfamilieseveryday,andsomanyflowersthattheoverwhelmingfragrancegavethemallheadachesandHortensiafinallyputthebouquetsoutside.Marisol came with Señor and Señora Rodríguez several times. In front of the adults, Esperanza

modeledMama’srefinedmanners,acceptingMarisol’scondolences.Butassoonastheycould,thetwogirlsexcusedthemselvesandwenttoEsperanza’sroomwheretheysatonherbed,heldhands,andweptasone.The house was full of visitors and their polite murmurings during the day.Mamawas cordial and

attentivetoeveryone,asifentertainingthemgaveherapurpose.Atnight,though,thehouseemptied.TheroomsseemedtoobigwithoutPapa’svoicetofillthem,andtheechoesoftheirfootstepsdeepenedtheirsadness.Abuelita sat byMama’sbed everynight and strokedher headuntil she slept; then shewouldcomearound to theothersideanddo thesameforEsperanza.Butsoonafter,Esperanzaoftenwoke toMama’s soft crying. OrMama woke to hers. And then they held each other, without letting go, untilmorning.Esperanzaavoidedopeningherbirthdaygifts.Every timeshe lookedat thepackages, they reminded

her of thehappy fiesta shewas supposed to have.Onemorning,Mama finally insisted, saying, “Papawouldhavewantedit.”AbuelitahandedEsperanzaeachgiftandEsperanzamethodicallyopenedthemandlaidthembackon

thetable.AwhitepurseforSundays,witharosaryinsidefromMarisol.AropeofbluebeadsfromChita.Thebook,DonQuijote,fromAbuelita.AbeautifulembroidereddresserscarffromMama,forsomeday.Finally,sheopenedtheboxsheknewwas thedoll.Shecouldn’thelp thinkingthat itwas the last thingPapawouldevergiveher.Handstrembling,sheliftedthelidandlookedinsidethebox.Thedollworeafinewhitebatistedress

and awhite lacemantilla over her black hair.Her porcelain face lookedwistfully at Esperanzawithenormouseyes.“Oh,shelookslikeanangel,”saidAbuelita,takingherhandkerchieffromhersleeveandblottingher

eyes.Mamasaidnothingbutreachedoutandtouchedthedoll’sface.Esperanza couldn’t talk. Her heart felt so big and hurt somuch that it crowded out her voice. She

huggedthedolltoherchestandwalkedoutoftheroom,leavingalltheothergiftsbehind.

TíoLuisandTíoMarcocameeverydayandwentintoPapa’sstudyto“takecareofthefamilybusiness.”At first, they stayed only a few hours, but soon they became like la calabaza, the squash plant inAlfonso’s garden, whose giant leaves spread out, encroaching upon anything smaller. The uncleseventuallystayedeachdayuntildark,takingalltheirmealsattheranchaswell.EsperanzacouldtellthatMamawasuneasywiththeirconstantpresence.Finally,thelawyercametosettletheestate.Mama,Esperanza,andAbuelitasatproperlyintheirblack

dressesastheuncleswalkedintothestudy.Alittletooloudly,TíoLuissaid,“Ramona,grievingdoesnotsuityou.Ihopeyouwillnotwearblack

allyear!”Mamadidnotanswerbutmaintainedhercomposure.TheynoddedtoAbuelitabut,asusual,saidnothingtoEsperanza.Thetalkbeganaboutbankloansandinvestments.ItallseemedsocomplicatedtoEsperanzaandher

mindwandered.Shehadnotbeenin thisroomsincePapadied.She lookedaroundatPapa’sdeskandbooks, Mama’s basket of crocheting with the silver crochet hooks that Papa had bought her inGuadalajara, the table near the door that held Papa’s rose clippers and beyond the double doors, hisgarden.Heruncles’paperswerestrewnacrossthedesk.Papaneverkepthisdeskthatway.TíoLuissatinPapa’schairasifitwerehisown.AndthenEsperanzanoticedthebeltbuckle.Papa’sbeltbuckleonTíoLuis’sbelt.Itwaswrong.Everythingwaswrong.TíoLuisshouldnotbesittinginPapa’schair.HeshouldnotbewearingPapa’sbeltbucklewiththebrandoftheranchonit!Forthethousandthtime,shewiped the tears that slippeddownher face, but this time theywere angry tears.A lookof indignationpassedbetweenMamaandAbuelita.Weretheyfeelingthesame?“Ramona,”saidthelawyer.“Yourhusband,SixtoOrtega,leftthishouseandallofitscontentstoyou

and your daughter. You will also receive the yearly income from the grapes. As you know, it is notcustomarytoleavelandtowomenandsinceLuiswasthebankerontheloan,Sixtoleftthelandtohim.”“Whichmakesthingsratherawkward,”saidTíoLuis.“Iamthebankpresidentandwouldliketolive

accordingly.Now that I own this beautiful land, Iwould like to purchase the house from you for thisamount.”HehandedMamaapieceofpaper.Mamalookedatitandsaid,“Thisisourhome.Myhusbandmeantforustolivehere.Andthehouse…

itisworthtwentytimesthismuch!Sono,Iwillnotsell.Besides,wherewouldwelive?”“I predicted you would say no, Ramona,” said Tío Luis. “And I have a solution to your living

arrangements.Aproposalactually.Oneofmarriage.”Whoishetalkingabout?thoughtEsperanza.Whowouldmarryhim?Heclearedhisthroat.“Ofcourse,wewouldwaittheappropriateamountoftimeoutofrespectformy

brother.Oneyeariscustomary,isitnot?Evenyoucanseethatwithyourbeautyandreputationandmy

positionatthebank,wecouldbeaverypowerfulcouple.DidyouknowthatI,too,havebeenthinkingofentering politics? I am going to campaign for governor. And what woman would not want to be thegovernor’swife?”Esperanzacouldnotbelievewhatsheheard.MamamarryTíoLuis?Marryagoat?Shelookedwide-

eyedathim,thenatMama.Mama’sfacelookedasifitwereinterriblepain.Shestoodupandspokeslowlyanddeliberately.“I

havenodesiretomarryyou,Luis,noworever.Frankly,yourofferoffendsme.”TíoLuis’sfacehardenedlikearockandthemusclestwitchedinhisnarrowneck.“Youwillregretyourdecision,Ramona.Youmustkeepinmindthatthishouseandthosegrapesareon

myproperty.Icanmakethingsdifficultforyou.Verydifficult.Iwillletyousleeponthedecision,foritismorethangenerous.”TíoLuisandTíoMarcoputontheirhatsandleft.Thelawyerlookeduncomfortableandbegangatheringdocuments.“Vultures!”saidAbuelita.“Canhedothis?”askedMama.“Yes,”saidthelawyer.“Technically,heisnowyourlandlord.”“Buthecouldbuildanotherhouse,biggerandmorepretentiousanywhereontheproperty,”saidMama.“Itisnotthehousethathewants,”saidAbuelita.“Itisyourinfluencehewants.Peopleinthisterritory

lovedSixtoandrespectyou.Withyouashiswife,Luiscouldwinanyelection.”Mamastiffened.Shelookedatthelawyerandsaid,“PleaseofficiallyrelaythismessagetoLuis.Iwill

never,ever,changemymind.”“Iwilldothat,Ramona,”saidthelawyer.“Butbecareful.Heisadevious,dangerousman.”ThelawyerleftandMamacollapsedintoachair,putherheadinherhandsandbegantocry.Esperanzarantoher.“Don’tcry,Mama.Everythingwillbeallright.”Butshedidn’tsoundconvincing,

eventoherself.BecauseallshecouldthinkaboutwaswhatTíoLuishadsaid,thatMamawouldregretherdecision.

That evening, Hortensia and Alfonso sat withMama and Abuelita discussing the problem. EsperanzapacedandMiguelquietlylookedon.“Willtheincomefromthegrapesbeenoughtosupportthehouseandtheservants?”saidMama.“Maybe,”saidAlfonso.“ThenIwillstayinmyhome,”saidMama.“Doyouhaveanyothermoney?”askedAlfonso.“Ihavemoneyinthebank,”announcedAbuelita.Andthenmorequietlysheadded,“Luis’sbank.”

“Hewouldpreventyoufromtakingitout,”saidHortensia.“Ifweneedhelp,wecouldborrowmoneyfromourfriends.FromSeñorRodríguez,”saidEsperanza.“Yourunclesareverypowerfulandcorrupt,”saidAlfonso.“Theycanmakethingsdifficultforanyone

whotriestohelpyou.Remember,theyarethebankerandthemayor.”The conversation continued to go in circles. Esperanza finally excused herself. She walked out to

Papa’sgardenandsatonastonebench.Manyoftheroseshaddroppedtheirpetals,leavingthestemandtherosehip,thegreen,grapelikefruitoftherose.Abuelitasaidtherosehipcontainedthememoriesoftherosesandthatwhenyoudrankteamadefromit,youtookinallthebeautythattheplanthadknown.TheseroseshaveknownPapa,shethought.ShewouldaskHortensiatomakerosehipteatomorrow.Miguelfoundherinthegardenandsatbesideher.SincePapadied,hehadbeenpolitebutstillhadnot

talkedtoher.“Anza,” he said, using her childhood name. “Which rose is yours?” In recent years, his voice had

becomeadeepthrottle.Shehadn’trealizedhowmuchshemissedhearingit.Thesoundbroughttearstohereyesbutshequicklyblinkedthemaway.Shepointedtotheminiaturepinkbloomswithdelicatestemsthatclimbedupthetrellises.“Andwhere ismine?”askedMiguel,nudgingher likehedidwhentheywereyoungerand toldeach

othereverything.Esperanzasmiledandpointedtotheorangesunburstnexttoit.Theyhadbeenyoungchildrentheday

Papahadplantedoneforeachofthem.“Whatdoesitallmean,Miguel?”“Thereare rumors in town thatLuis intends to takeover the ranch,onewayoranother.Now that it

seemstrue,wewillprobablyleavefortheUnitedStatestowork.”Esperanzashookherheadasiftosayno.ShecouldnotimaginelivingwithoutHortensia,Alfonso,and

Miguel.“MyfatherandIhavelostfaithinourcountry.Wewerebornservantshereandnomatterhowhardwe

workwewillalwaysbeservants.Yourfatherwasagoodman.Hegaveusasmallpieceoflandandacabin. But your uncles… you know their reputation. They would take it all away and treat us likeanimals.Wewillnotworkforthem.TheworkishardintheUnitedStatesbutat leasttherewehaveachancetobemorethanservants.”“ButMamaandAbuelita…theyneed…weneedyou.”“Myfathersayswewon’tleaveuntilitisnecessary.”Hereachedoverandtookherhand.“I’msorry

aboutyourpapa.”His touchwaswarmandEsperanza’sheartskipped.Shelookedatherhandinhisandfelt thecolor

rushingtoherface.Surprisedatherownblush,shepulledawayfromhim.Shestoodandstaredat theroses.Anawkwardsilencebuiltawallbetweenthem.

Sheglancedquicklyathim.Hewasstill lookingather,witheyes fullofhurt.BeforeMiguel lefther there,hesaidsoftly,“You

wereright,Esperanza.InMexicowestandondifferentsidesoftheriver.”

Esperanzawentup toherroom, thinking thatnothingseemedright.Shewalkedslowlyaroundherbed,runningherhandoverthefinelycarvedposts.Shecountedthedollslineduponherdresser:thirteen,oneforeachbirthday.WhenPapawasalive,everythingwasinorder,likethedollslinedupinarow.Sheputona longcottonnightgownwithhand-sewn lace,pickedup thenewdoll andwalked to the

open window. Looking out over the valley, she wondered where they would go if they had to livesomewhereelse.TheyhadnootherfamilyexceptAbuelita’ssistersandtheywerenunsinaconvent.“Iwon’teverleavehere,”shewhispered.Asuddenbreezecarrieda familiar,pungent smell.She lookeddown into thecourtyardand saw the

woodenboxstillsittingonthepatio.Itheld thepapayasfromSeñorRodríguez, theonesthatPapahadordered, thatshouldhavebeenservedonherbirthday.Theiroverripesweetnessnowpervaded theairwitheachbreathofwind.Shecrawledintobedbeneaththelinensedgedwithlace.Huggingthedoll,shetriedtosleepbuther

thoughtskeptreturningtoTíoLuis.ShefeltsickatthethoughtofMamamarryinghim.Ofcourseshehadtoldhimno!Shetookadeepbreath,stillsmellingthepapayasandPapa’ssweetintentions.WhydidPapahavetodie?WhydidheleavemeandMama?Sheclosedhereyestightanddidwhatshetriedtodoeachnight.Shetriedtofindthedream,theone

wherePapawassingingthebirthdaysong.

Thewindblewhardthatnightandthehousemoanedandwhistled.Insteadofdreamingofbirthdaysongs,Esperanza’ssleepwasfilledwithnightmares.Anenormousbearwaschasingher,gettingcloserandcloserandfinallyfoldingherinatightembrace.Itsfurcaughtinhermouth,makingithardtobreathe.Someone tried to pull the bear away but couldn’t. The bear squeezed harder until it was smotheringEsperanza.Thenwhenshethoughtshewouldsuffocate,thebeargrabbedherbytheshouldersandshookheruntilherheadwaggedbackandforth.Hereyesopened,thenclosedagain.Sherealizedshewasdreamingandforaninstant,shefeltrelieved.

Buttheshakingbeganagain,harderthistime.Someonewascallingher.“Esperanza!”Sheopenedhereyes.“Esperanza!Wakeup!”screamedMama.“Thehouseisonfire!”Smokedriftedintotheroom.“Mama,what’shappening?”“Getup,Esperanza!WemustgetAbuelita!”EsperanzaheardAlfonso’sdeepvoiceyellingfromsomewheredownstairs.“SeñoraOrtega!Esperanza!”“Here! We are here!” called Mama, grabbing a damp rag from the washbowl and handing it to

Esperanza toputoverhermouthandnose.Esperanza swungaround in a circle looking for something,anything, to save. She grabbed the doll. Then she andMamahurried down the hall towardAbuelita’sroom,butitwasempty.“Alfonso!”screamedMama.“Abuelitaisnothere!”“Wewillfindher.Youmustcomenow.Thestairsarebeginningtoburn.Hurry!”Esperanzaheldthetoweloverherfaceandlookeddownthestairs.Curtainsflamedupthewalls.The

housewasenvelopedinafogthatthickenedtowardtheceiling.MamaandEsperanzacroucheddownthestairswhereAlfonsowaswaitingtoleadthemoutthroughthekitchen.Inthecourtyard,thewoodengateswereopen.Nearthestables,thevaqueroswerereleasingthehorses

fromthecorrals.Servantsscurriedeverywhere.Whereweretheygoing?“Where’sAbuelita?Abuelita!”criedMama.Esperanzafeltdizzy.Nothingseemedreal.Wasshestilldreaming?Wasthisherownimaginationgone

wild?Miguelgrabbedher.“Where’syourmotherandAbuelita?”Esperanzawhimperedand looked towardMama.He lefther, stoppedatMama, then ran toward the

house.Thewind caught the sparks from the house and carried them to the stables. Esperanza stood in the

middleof it all,watching theoutlineofherhome silhouetted in flames against thenight sky.Someonewrappedablanketaroundher.Wasshecold?Shedidnotknow.Miguel ranoutof theburninghouse carryingAbuelita inhis arms.He laidherdownandHortensia

screamed.Thebackofhisshirtwasonfire.Alfonsotackledhim,rollinghimoverandoveronthegrounduntilthefirewasout.Miguelstoodupandslowlytookofftheblackenedshirt.Hewasn’tbadlyburned.MamacradledAbuelitainherarms.“Mama,”saidEsperanza,“Isshe…?”“No,sheisalive,butweakandherankle…Idon’tthinkshecanwalk,”saidMama.Esperanzakneltdown.“Abuelita,wherewereyou?”Her grandmother held up the cloth bag with her crocheting and after some minutes of coughing,

whispered,“Wemusthavesomethingtodowhilewewait.”The fire’sangercouldnotbecontained. It spread to thegrapes.The flames ranalong thedeliberate

rowsofthevines,likelongcurvedfingersreachingforthehorizon,lightingthenightsky.EsperanzastoodasifinatranceandwatchedElRanchodelasRosasburn.

Mama,Abuelita, and Esperanza slept in the servants’ cabins. They really didn’t sleepmuch, but theydidn’tcryeither.Theywerenumb,as ifencased ina thickskin thatnothingcouldpenetrate.Andtherewasnopointintalkingabouthowithappened.Theyallknewthattheuncleshadarrangedthefire.Atdawn,stillinhernightgown,Esperanzawentoutamongtherubble.Avoidingthesmolderingpiles,

shepickedthroughtheblackwood,hopingtofindsomethingtosalvage.Shesatonanadobeblocknearwhatusedtobethefrontdoor,andlookedoveratPapa’srosegarden.Flowerlessstemswerecoveredinsoot.Dazedandhuggingherself,Esperanzasurveyedthesurvivingvictims:thetwistedformsofwrought-ironchairs,unharmedcast-ironskillets,andthemortarsandpestlesfromthekitchenthatweremadefromlavarockandrefusedtoburn.Thenshesawtheremainsofthetrunkthatusedtositatthefootofherbed,themetal strapsstill intact.Shestoodupandhurried toward it,hoping forunmilagro, amiracle.Shelookedclosely,butallthatremainedwereblackcinders.Therewasnothingleftinside,forsomeday.

Esperanzasawherunclesapproachingonhorsebackandrantotelltheothers.Mamawaitedonthesteps

of the cabinwithher arms crossed, looking like a fierce statue.Alfonso,Hortensia, andMiguel stoodnearby.“Ramona,”saidTíoMarco,remainingonhishorse.“Anothersadnessinsoshortatime.Wearedeeply

sorry.”“Ihavecometogiveyouanotherchance,”saidTíoLuis.“Ifyoureconsidermyproposal,Iwillbuilda

bigger,morebeautifulhouseandIwillreplanteverything.Ofcourse,ifyouprefer,youcanliveherewiththeservants,aslongasanothertragedydoesnothappentotheirhomesaswell.Thereisnomainhouseorfieldswheretheycanwork,soyouseethatmanypeople’slivesandjobsdependuponyou.AndIamsureyouwantthebestforEsperanza,doyounot?”Mamadidnotspeakforseveralmoments.Shelookedaroundattheservantswhohadgathered.Now,

herfacedidnotseemsofierceandhereyesweredamp.EsperanzawonderedwheretheservantswouldgowhenMamatoldTíoLuisno.MamalookedatEsperanzawitheyesthatsaid,“forgiveme.”Thenshedroppedherheadandstaredat

theground.“Iwillconsideryourproposal,”saidMama.TíoLuissmiled.“Iamdelighted!Ihavenodoubtthatyouwillmaketherightdecision.Iwillbeback

inafewdaysforyouranswer.”“Mama,no!”saidEsperanza.SheturnedtoTíoLuisandsaid,“Ihateyou!”TíoLuisignoredher.“AndRamona,ifEsperanzaistobemydaughter,shemusthavebettermanners.In

fact,todayIwilllookintoboardingschoolswheretheycanteachhertoactlikealady.”Thenheturnedhishorse,dughisspursintotheanimal,androdeaway.Esperanzabegantoweep.ShegrabbedMama’sarmandsaid,“Why?Whydidyoutellhimthat?”ButMamawasnotlisteningtoher.Shewaslookingup,asifconsultingtheangels.Finally,shesaid,“Alfonso.Hortensia.WemusttalkwithAbuelita.EsperanzaandMiguel,comeinside,

youareoldenoughtohearthediscussions.”“ButMama…”MamatookEsperanzabytheshouldersandfacedher.“Mija,mydaughter,donotworry.IknowwhatI

amdoing.”

Theyallcrowded intoHortensiaandAlfonso’s tinybedroomwhereAbuelitawas resting,her swollenankleproppedonpillows.EsperanzasatonAbuelita’sbedwhileMamaandtheothersstood.“Alfonso,whataremyoptions?”saidMama.“If youdon’t intend tomarryhim,Señora, you cannot stayhere.Hewouldburndown the servants’

quartersnext.Therewillbeno incomebecause therearenograpes.Youwouldhave todependon thecharityofothers,andtheywouldbeafraidtohelpyou.YoucouldmovetosomeotherpartofMexico,but

inpoverty.Luis’sinfluenceisfar-reaching.”Theroomwasquiet.Mamalookedoutthewindowandtappedherfingersonthewoodensill.HortensiawenttoMama’ssideandtouchedherarm.“Youshouldknowthatwehavedecidedtogoto

theUnited States.Alfonso’s brother has beenwriting to us about the big farm inCaliforniawhere heworksnow.Hecanarrangejobsandacabinforus,too.Wearesendingthelettertomorrow.”MamaturnedandlookedatAbuelita.Withnowordsspoken,Abuelitanodded.“WhatifEsperanzaandIwentwithyou?TotheUnitedStates,”saidMama.“Mama,wecannotleaveAbuelita!”AbuelitaputherhandonEsperanza’s.“Iwouldcomelater,whenIamstronger.”“Butmyfriendsandmyschool.Wecan’tjustleave!AndPapa,whatwouldhethink?”“Whatshouldwedo,Esperanza?DoyouthinkPapawouldwantmetomarryTíoLuisandlethimsend

youtoaschoolinanothercity?”Esperanza felt confused. Her uncle said he would replace everything as it was. But she could not

imagineMamabeingmarried toanyonebutPapa.She lookedatMama’sfaceandsawsadness,worry,and pain.Mamawould do anything for her. But ifMamamarried Tío Luis, she knew that everythingwould not really be as it was. Tío Luis would send her away and she andMamawouldn’t even betogether.“No,”shewhispered.“Youaresurethatyouwanttogowithus?”saidHortensia.“Iamsure,”saidMama,hervoicestronger.“Butcrossingtheborderismoredifficultthesedays.You

haveyourpapersbutourswerelostinthefireandtheyforbidanyonetoenterwithoutavisa.”“Iwillarrangeit,”saidAbuelita.“Mysisters,intheconvent.Theycandiscreetlygetyouduplicates.”“Noonecouldknowaboutthis,Señora,”saidAlfonso.“Wewouldallhavetokeepitasecretifyou

come.ThiswillbeagreatinsulttoLuis.Ifhefindsout,hewillpreventyoufromleavingtheterritory.”AtinysmileappearedonMama’stiredface.“Yes,itwouldbeagreatinsulttohim,wouldn’tit?”“InCaliforniathereisonlyfieldwork,”saidMiguel.“Iamstrongerthanyouthink,”saidMama.“Wewillhelpeachother.”HortensiaputherarmaroundMama.AbuelitasqueezedEsperanza’shand.“Donotbeafraidtostartover.WhenIwasyourage,IleftSpain

withmymother,father,andsisters.AMexicanofficialhadofferedmyfatherajobhereinMexico.Sowecame.We had to take several ships and the journey lastedmonths.Whenwe arrived, nothingwas aspromised.Thereweremanyhardtimes.Butlifewasalsoexciting.Andwehadeachother.Esperanza,doyourememberthestoryofthephoenix,thelovelyyoungbirdthatisrebornfromitsownashes?”Esperanzanodded.Abuelitahadreadittohermanytimesfromabookofmyths.“Wearelikethephoenix,”saidAbuelita.“Risingagain,withanewlifeaheadofus.”Whensherealizedshewascrying,Esperanzawipedhereyeswithhershawl.Yes,shethought.They

couldhaveahomeinCalifornia.Abeautifulhome.AlfonsoandHortensiaandMiguelcouldtakecareofthem and they’d be rid of the uncles. And Abuelita would join them, as soon as she was well. Stillsnifflingandcaughtupintheiraffectionandstrength,Esperanzasaid,“And…andIcouldwork,too.”Theyalllookedather.AndforthefirsttimesincePapadied,everyonelaughed.

The next dayAbuelita’s sisters came for her in awagon. The nuns, dressed in their black andwhitehabits,gentlyliftedAbuelitaintotheback.TheypulledablanketunderherchinandEsperanzawenttoher and held her hand. She remembered the night that Alfonso andMiguel brought Papa home in thewagon.Howlongagowas that?Sheknewthat ithadonlybeena fewweeks,but it seemed likemanylifetimesago.EsperanzatenderlyhuggedandkissedAbuelita.“Minieta,wewon’tbeabletocommunicate.ThemailisunpredictableandI’msureyouruncleswill

bewatchingmycorrespondence.ButIwillcome,ofthatyoucanbecertain.Whileyouarewaiting,finishthisforme.”ShehandedEsperanzathebundleofcrocheting.“Lookatthezigzagoftheblanket.Mountainsandvalleys.Rightnowyouareinthebottomofthevalleyandyourproblemsloombigaroundyou.Butsoon,youwillbeat thetopofamountainagain.Afteryouhavelivedmanymountainsandvalleys,wewillbetogether.”ThroughhertearsEsperanzasaid,“Pleasegetwell.Pleasecometous.”“Ipromise.AndyoupromisetotakecareofMamaforme.”NextitwasMama’sturn.Esperanzacouldnotwatch.SheburiedherheadinHortensia’sshoulderuntil

sheheardthewagonpullingaway.ThenshewenttoMamaandputherarmsaroundher.Theywatchedthewagondisappeardownthepathuntilitwasaspeckinthedistance,untileventhedustwasgone.That’swhenEsperanzanoticedtheoldtrunkwiththeleatherstrapsthatthenunshadleft.“Whatisinthetrunk?”sheasked.“Ourpaperstotravel.Andclothesfromthepoorboxattheconvent.”“Thepoorbox?”“Peopledonatethem,”saidMama,“forotherswhocannotaffordtobuytheirown.”“Mama,atatimelikethis,mustweworryaboutsomepoorfamilywhoneedsclothes?”“Esperanza,”saidMama.“WehavelittlemoneyandHortensia,Alfonso,andMiguelarenolongerour

servants.Weareindebtedtothemforourfinancesandourfuture.Andthattrunkofclothesforthepoor?Esperanza,itisforus.”

SeñorRodríguezwas theonlyperson theycould trust.Hecameafterdark for secretmeetings, alwayscarryingabasketof figs for thegrieving family todisguisehis real reason forvisiting.Esperanza fellasleepeachnightonablanketon thefloor, listeningto theadults’hushedvoicesandmysteriousplans.Andsmellingtheplentifulpilesofwhitefigsthatsheknewwouldneverbeeaten.AttheendoftheweekEsperanzawassittingonthesmallsteptoHortensiaandAlfonso’scabinwhen

TíoLuisrodeup.HeremainedonhishorseandsentAlfonsotobringMama.Inafewmoments,Mamawalkedtowardthem,dryingherhandsonherapron.Sheheldherheadhigh

andlookedbeautiful,evendressedintheoldclothesfromthepoorbox.“Luis,IhaveconsideredyourproposalandintheinterestoftheservantsandEsperanza,Iwillmarry

you, in due time.But youmust begin replanting and rebuilding immediately, as the servants need theirjobs.”Esperanzawasquietandstaredatthedirt,hidingthesmirkonherface.Tío Luis could not contain his grin. He sat up straighter. “I knew youwould come to your senses,

Ramona.Iwillannouncetheengagementatonce.”Mamanodded,almostbowing.“Onemorething,”shesaid.“WewillneedawagontovisitAbuelita.

SheisattheconventinLaPurísima.Imustseetohereveryfewweeks.”“Iwillsendoneoverthisafternoon,”saidTíoLuis,smiling.“Anewone.Andthoseclothes,Ramona!

They are not fitting for a woman of your stature, and Esperanza looks like a waif. I will send adressmakernextweekwithnewfabrics.”Inthenicestwaypossible,Esperanzalookedupandsaid,“Thankyou,TíoLuis.Iamhappythatyou

willbetakingcareofus.”“Yes,ofcourse,”hesaid,notevenglancingather.Esperanzasmiledathimanyway,becausesheknewshewouldneverspendanightinthesamehouse

withhimandhewouldneverbeherstepfather.Shealmostwishedshewouldbeabletoseehisfacewhenherealizedthattheyhadescaped.Hewouldn’tbegrinninglikeaproudroosterthen.

The night before the dressmakerwas scheduled to come,MamawokeEsperanza in themiddle of thenight,andtheyleftwithonlywhattheycouldcarry.Esperanzaheldavalisefilledwithclothes,asmallpackageoftamales,andherdollfromPapa.SheandMamaandHortensiawerewrappedindarkshawlstoblendinwiththenight.They could not take a chance ofwalkingon the roads, soMiguel andAlfonso led them through the

graperows,weavingacrossPapa’slandtowardtheRodríguezranch.Therewasenoughmoonlightsothattheycouldseetheoutlinesofthetwistedandcharredtrunks,theburnt-outvinesrollinginparallellinestowardthemountains.Itlookedasifsomeonehadtakenagiantcomb,dippeditinblackpaint,andgently

swirleditacrossahugecanvas.TheyreachedthefigorchardthatseparatedPapa’slandfromSeñorRodríguez’s.Alfonso,Hortensia,

andMiguelwalkedahead.ButEsperanzaheldback,andpulledonMama’shandtokeepherthereforamoment.TheyturnedtolookatwhatusedtobeElRanchodelasRosasinthedistance.Sadness and anger tangled in Esperanza’s stomach as she thought of all that she was leaving: her

friendsandherschool,herlifeasitoncewas,Abuelita.AndPapa.Shefeltasthoughshewasleavinghim,too.Asifreadinghermind,Mamasaid,“Papa’sheartwillfinduswhereverwego.”ThenMamatooka

determinedbreathandheadedtowardthesprawlingtrees.Esperanzafollowedbuthesitatedeveryfewsteps,lookingback.Shehatedleaving,buthowcouldshe

stay?Witheachstride,Papa’slandbecamesmallerandsmaller.ShehurriedafterMama,knowingthatshe

mightnevercomebacktoherhomeagain,andherheartfilledwithvenomforTíoLuis.Whensheturnedaroundone last time, shecould seenothingbehindherbuta trailof splattered figs shehad resentfullysmashedbeneathherfeet.

They emerged from the fig orchard and continued through a pear grove. When they came into aclearing,theysawSeñorRodríguezwaitingwithalanternbythebarndoors.Theyhurriedinside.Pigeonsflutteredintherafters.Theirwagonwaswaiting,surroundedbycratesofgreenguavas.“DidMarisolcome?”askedEsperanza,hereyessearchingthebarn.“Icouldtellnooneaboutyourdeparture,”saidSeñorRodríguez.“Whenthetimeisright,Iwilltellher

thatyoulookedforherandsaidgood-bye.Nowwemusthurry.Youneedtheprotectionofdarkness.”Alfonso,Miguel,andSeñorRodríguezhadbuiltanotherfloorinthewagon,higherthantherealoneand

open at theback,withbarely enough roombetween forMama,Esperanza, andHortensia to lie down.Hortensialineditwithblankets.Esperanzahadknownabouttheplan,butnowshehesitatedwhenshesawthesmallspace.“Please,canIsitwithAlfonsoandMiguel?”“Mija,itisnecessary,”saidMama.“There are toomany bandits,” saidAlfonso. “It is not safe forwomen to be on the roads at night.

Besides,youruncleshavemanyspies.Remember?ThatiswhywemusttakethewagontoZacatecasandcatchthetrainthere,insteadoffromAguascalientes.”“Luishasbraggedabout theengagement to everyone,” saidHortensia. “Thinkhowangryhewillbe

whenhediscoversyouhavegone.Wecannottakethechanceofyoubeingseen.”MamaandHortensiasaidgratefulgood-byes toSeñorRodríguez, thenslidbetweenthefloorsof the

wagon.Esperanzareluctantlyscootedonherbackbetweenthem.“Whencanwegetout?”“Everyfewhours,wewillstopandstretch,”saidMama.Esperanzastaredatthewoodplanksjustafewinchesfromherface.ShecouldhearAlfonso,Miguel,

andSeñorRodríguezdumpingcrateaftercrateofguavasontothefloorabovethem,thealmost-ripefruitrollingandtumblingasitwaspiledon.Theguavassmelledfreshandsweet,likepearsandorangesallinone.ThenshefelttheguavasrollinaroundherfeetasAlfonsoandMiguelcoveredtheopening.Ifanyonesawthewagonontheroad,itwouldlooklikeafarmerandhisson,takingaloadoffruittomarket.“Howareyou?”Alfonsoasked,soundingfaraway.“Wearefine,”calledHortensia.Thewagonpulledoutofthebarnandtheguavasshifted,thensettled.Itwasdarkinsideanditfeltlike

someonewas rocking them in a bumpy cradle, sometimes side to side and sometimes back and forth.Esperanzabegantofeelfrightened.Sheknewthatwithafewkicksofherfeetshecouldgetout,butstillshefelttrapped.Suddenly,shethoughtshecouldn’tbreathe.“Mama!”shesaid,gaspingforair.

“Righthere,Esperanza.Everythingisfine.”“Doyouremember,”saidHortensia,takingherhand,“whenyouwereonlyfiveyearsoldandwehid

fromthethieves?Youweresobraveforsuchalittlegirl.YourparentsandAlfonsoandtheotherservantshadgonetotown.ItwasjustyouandmeandMiguelinthehouse.WewereinyourbedroomandIwaspinning the hemof your beautiful blue silk dress.Do you remember that dress?Youwanted it pinnedhighersoyournewshoeswouldshow.”Esperanza’s eyes were beginning to adjust to the darkness and to the pitch and roll of the wagon.

“Miguel ran into the house because he had seen bandits,” said Esperanza, exhaling. She rememberedstandingonachairwithherarmsoutstretchedlikeabirdreadyforflightwhileHortensiafittedthesidesofthedress.Andsherememberedthenewshoes,shinyandblack.“Yes,” said Hortensia. “I looked out the window to see six men, their faces covered with

handkerchiefs, and they all held rifles.Theywere renegadeswho thought theyhadpermission to stealfrom the rich andgive to the poor.But they didn’t always give to the poor and they sometimes killedinnocentpeople.”“Wehidunderthebed,”saidEsperanza.“Andwepulleddownthebedcoverssotheycouldn’tseeus.”

Sherememberedstaringstraightupatthebedboards.Muchliketheboardsenclosingtheminthewagonnow.Shetookanotherlongbreath.“Whatwedidn’tknowwasthatMiguelhadabigfieldmouseinhispocket,”saidHortensia.“Yes.Hewasgoingtoscaremewithit,”saidEsperanza.Thewagon creaked and swayed. They could hearAlfonso andMiguelmurmuring above them. The

persistentsmelloftheguavasfilledtheirnoses.Esperanzarelaxedalittle.Hortensiacontinued. “Themencame into thehouseandwecouldhear themopeningcupboardsand

stealing thesilver.Thenweheard themclimb thestairs.Twomencame into thebedroomandwesawtheirbigbootsthroughacrackinthebedcover.Butwedidn’tsayaword.”“UntilapinpokedmeandImovedmylegandmadeanoise.”“Iwassofrightenedtheywouldfindus,”saidHortensia.“ButMiguel pushed themouse out from under the bed and it ran around the room. Themen were

startledbutstartedlaughing.Andthenoneofthemsaid,‘Itisjustaratón.We’vegotplenty.Let’sgo,’andtheyleft,”saidEsperanza.Mamasaid,“Theytookalmostallofthesilver,butPapaandIonlycaredthatallofyouweresafe.Do

yourememberhowPapasaidthatMiguelwasverysmartandbraveandaskedhimwhathewantedforprotectingyou,hismostprizedpossession?”Esperanzaremembered.“Miguelwantedtogoonatrainride.”HortensiastartedtohumsoftlyandMamaheldEsperanza’shand.Miguel’sreward,thatday-longtrainridetoZacatecas,seemedlikeyesterday.Miguelhadbeeneight

and Esperanza five. Shewore the beautiful blue silk dress and could still seeMiguel standing at the

station,wearing a bow tie andpractically shining, as ifHortensia had cleaned and starchedhis entirebody.Evenhishairwasslickeddownsmoothandhiseyesgleamedwithexcitement.Hewasmesmerizedbythelocomotive,watchingitslowlypullin.Esperanzahadbeenexcited,too.Whenthetrainarrived,allsputteringandblustery,portershadhurriedtoescortthem,showingthemthe

way to theircar.Papa tookherhandandMiguel’sand theyboarded,wavinggood-bye toAlfonsoandHortensia.Thecompartmenthadseatsofsoftleather,andsheandMiguelhadbouncedhappilyuponthem.Later, theyate in thediningcar at little tables covered inwhite linensand setwith silver andcrystal.Whenthewaitercameandaskediftherewasanythinghecouldbringthem,Esperanzasaid,“Yes,pleasebring lunch,now.”Themenandwomendressed in theirhatsandfancyclothessmiledandchuckledatwhatmusthavelookedlikeadotingfatherandtwoprivilegedchildren.WhentheyarrivedinZacatecas,awomanwrappedinacolorfulrebozo,ablanketshawl,boardedthetrainsellingmangoesonastick.Themangoeswerepeeledandcarvedtolooklikeexoticflowers.Papaboughtoneforeachofthem.Onthereturnride,sheandMiguel,withtheirnosespressedagainstthewindow,andtheirhandsstillstickyfromthefreshmango,hadwavedtoeverypersontheysaw.Thewagonjostledthemnowasithitaholeintheroad.EsperanzawishedshecouldgettoZacatecas

asfastasshehadthatdayonthetraininsteadoftravelingonbackroads,hiddeninaslowwagon.Butthistime,shewasburiedbeneathamountainofguavasandcouldnotwavetoanyone.Therewasnocomfort.AndtherewasnoPapa.

Esperanzastoodat the station inZacatecas, tuggingat the second-handdress. Itdidn’t fitproperlyandwas themost awfulyellow.Andeven though theyhadbeenoutof thewagon for somehours, she stillsmelledlikeguavas.IthadtakenthemtwodaystoarriveinZacatecas,butfinally,thatmorning,theyleftthewagonhiddenin

athicketofshrubsandtreesandwalkedintotown.Afterthediscomfortofthewagon,shewaslookingforwardtothetrain.Thelocomotivearrivedpullingalineofcarsandhissingandspewingsteam.Buttheydidnotboardthe

fancycarwiththecompartmentsandleatherseatsorthediningcarwiththewhitelinens.Instead,Alfonsoled them toacarwith rowsofwoodenbenches, likechurchpews facingeachother,alreadycrowdedwithpeasants.Trashlitteredtheflooranditreekedofrottingfruitandurine.AmanwithasmallgoatonhislapgrinnedatEsperanza,revealingnoteeth.Threebarefootchildren,twoboysandagirl,crowdedneartheirmother.Theirlegswerechalkywithdust,theirclotheswereintatters,andtheirhairwasgrimy.Anold, frail beggarwomanpushedby them to thebackof the car, clutching apictureofOurLadyofGuadalupe.Herhandwasoutstretchedforalms.Esperanzahadneverbeensoclose tosomanypeasantsbefore.Whenshewent toschool,allofher

friendswerelikeher.Whenshewenttotown,shewasescortedandhurriedaroundanybeggars.Andthepeasantsalwayskepttheirdistance.Thatwassimplythewayitwas.Shecouldn’thelpbutwonderiftheywouldstealherthings.“Mama,”saidEsperanza,stoppinginthedoorway.“Wecannottravelinthiscar.It…itisnotclean.

Andthepeopledonotlooktrustworthy.”EsperanzasawMiguelfrownasheedgedaroundhertositdown.MamatookherhandandguidedhertoanemptybenchwhereEsperanzaslidovernexttothewindow.

“PapawouldneverhavehadussithereandAbuelitawouldn’tapprove,”shesaid,stubbornly.“Mija, it is all we can afford,” said Mama. “We must make do. It is not easy for me either. But

remember,wearegoingtoaplacethatwillbebetterthanlivingwithTíoLuis,andatleastwewillbetogether.”The trainpulledoutandsettled intoasteadymotion.HortensiaandMama tookout theircrocheting.

Mamawasusingasmallhookandwhitecottonthreadtomakecarpetas,lacedoilies,toputunderalamporavase.SheheldupherworktoEsperanzaandsmiled.“Wouldyouliketolearn?”Esperanzashookherhead.WhydidMamabothercrochetinglace?Theyhadnovasesorlámparas to

putontopofthem.Esperanzaleanedherheadagainstthewindow.Sheknewshedidnotbelonghere.Shewas Esperanza Ortega from El Rancho de las Rosas. She crossed her arms tight and stared out thewindow.Forhours,Esperanzawatchedtheundulatinglandpassinfrontofher.Everythingseemedtoremindher

ofwhat she had left behind: thenopales reminded her ofAbuelitawho loved to eat the prickly pearcactus slicedandsoaked invinegarandoil; thedogs fromsmallvillages thatbarkedand ranafter thetrain remindedher ofMarisol,whose dog,Capitán, chased after trains the sameway.And every timeEsperanzasawashrinedecoratedwithcrosses,flowers,andminiaturestatuesofsaintsnexttotherails,shecouldn’thelpbutwonderifithadbeensomeone’sfatherwhohaddiedonthetracksandifsomewheretherewasanothergirlwhomissedhim,too.Esperanza opened her valise to check on the doll, lifting it out and straightening her clothes. The

barefootpeasantgirlranover.“Mona,”shesaid,andreacheduptotouchthedoll.Esperanzaquicklyjerkeditawayandputitbackin

thevalise,coveringitwiththeoldclothes.“¡Mona!¡Mona!”saidthelittlegirl,runningbacktohermother.Andthenshebegantocry.MamaandHortensiabothstoppedtheirneedlesandstaredatEsperanza.Mamalookedacrossatthegirl’smother.“Iamsorryformydaughter’sbadmanners.”Esperanza looked atMama in surprise.Whywas she apologizing to these people? She andMama

shouldn’tevenbesittinginthiscar.Hortensialookedfromonetotheotherandexcusedherself.“IthinkIwillfindAlfonsoandMigueland

seeiftheyboughttortillasatthestation.”

MamalookedatEsperanza.“Idon’tthinkitwouldhavehurttoletherholditforafewmoments.”“Mama,sheispooranddirty…”saidEsperanza.ButMamainterrupted.“Whenyouscornthesepeople,youscornMiguel,Hortensia,andAlfonso.And

youembarrassmeandyourself.Asdifficultasitistoaccept,ourlivesaredifferentnow.”The child kept crying.Her facewas so dirty that her tearswashed clean streaks down her cheeks.

Esperanza suddenly felt ashamedand the color rose in her face, but she still pushed thevalise fartherundertheseatwithherfeetandturnedherbodyawayfromMama.Esperanzatriednottolookbackatthelittlegirlbutshecouldn’thelpit.Shewishedshecouldtellthe

littlegirl’smotherthatshehadalwaysgivenheroldtoystotheorphanage,butthatthisdollwasspecial.Besides,thechildwouldhavesoileditwithherhands.Mamareached inherbagandpulledoutaballofblanketyarn.“Esperanza,holdoutyourhandsfor

me.”Sheraisedhereyebrowsandnoddedtowardthegirl.EsperanzaknewexactlywhatMamaintendedtodo.Theyhaddoneitmanytimesbefore.MamawrappedtheyarnaroundEsperanza’soutstretchedhandsaboutfiftytimesuntiltheywerealmost

covered.Thensheslippeda stringofyarn through themiddleof the loopsand tieda tightknotbeforeEsperanzaremovedherhands.Afewinchesbelowtheknot,Mamatiedanothersnugknotaroundalltheyarn,formingahead.Thenshecutthebottomloops,separatedthestrandsintosections,andbraidedeachsectionintowhatlookedlikearmsandlegs.Sheheldtheyarndollup,offeringittothelittlegirl.SherantoMama,smiling,tookthedoll,andranbacktoherownmother’sside.Themotherwhisperedintothegirl’sear.Shyly,shesaid,“Gracias.Thankyou.”“Denada.You’rewelcome,”saidMama.Thewomanandthechildrengotoffthetrainatthenextstop.Esperanzawatchedthelittlegirlstopin

frontoftheirwindow,wavetoMama,andsmileagain.Beforeshewalkedaway,shemadetheyarndollwavegood-bye,too.Esperanzawasgladthegirlgotoffthetrainandtookthesillyyarndollwithher.Otherwise,shewould

havebeenremindedofherownselfishnessandMama’sdisapprovalformilestocome.

Clicketta,clicketta,clicketta.Thesongofthelocomotivewasmonotonousastheytravelednorth,andthehoursseemedlikeMama’snever-endingballofthreadunwindinginfrontofthem.EachmorningthesunpeekedoveronespuroftheSierraMadre,sometimesshiningthroughpinetrees.Intheevening,itsetontheleft,sinkingbehindanotherpeakandleavingpinkcloudsandpurplemountainsagainstthedarkeningsky.Whenpeoplegotonandoff,Esperanzaand theotherschanged theirseats.Whenthecar filledup,theysometimesstood.Whenthecarwaslesscrowded,theyputtheirvalisesundertheirheadsandtried

tosleeponthebenches.Ateverystop,MiguelandAlfonsohurriedoffthetrainwithapackage.Fromthewindow,Esperanza

watchedthemgotoawatertrough,unwrapanoilcloth,anddampenthebundleinside.Thentheywouldwrapitintheoilclothagain,boardthetrain,andputitcarefullybackintoAlfonso’sbag.“Whatisinthere?”EsperanzafinallyaskedAlfonso,asthetrainpulledawayfromyetanotherstation.“Youwillseewhenwegetthere.”HesmiledandaknowinglookpassedbetweenhimandMiguel.Esperanzawas annoyedwithAlfonso for taking the packageon andoff the trainwithout telling her

what was inside. She was tired of Hortensia’s humming and weary of watchingMama crochet, as ifnothingunusualwerehappeningtothem.ButmostofallshewasboredwithMiguel’sconstanttalkabouttrains.Hechattedwiththeconductors.Hegotoffateverystopandwatchedtheengineers.HestudiedthetrainscheduleandwantedtoreportitalltoEsperanza.HeseemedashappyasEsperanzawasirritable.“WhenIgettoCalifornia,Iamgoingtoworkfortherailroad,”saidMiguel,lookinganxiouslytoward

thehorizon.Theyhadspreadpiecesofbrownpaper in their lapsandwereeatingpepinos, cucumberssprinkledwithsaltandgroundchiles.“I’mthirsty.Aretheysellingjuiceintheothercar?”askedEsperanza.“IwouldhaveworkedattherailroadinMexico,”continuedMiguel,asifEsperanzahadnottriedto

changethesubject.“ButitisnoteasytogetajobinMexico.Youneedunapalanca,alever,togetajobattherailroads.Ihadnoconnectionsbutyourfatherdid.SinceIwasasmallboy,hegavemehiswordthathewouldhelpme.Andhewouldhavekepthispromise.He…healwayskepthispromisestome.”At thementionofPapa,Esperanza felt that sinking feeling again. She looked atMiguel.Hequickly

turnedhisheadawayfromherandlookedhardoutthewindow,butshesawthathiseyesweredamp.ShehadneverthoughtabouthowmuchherpapamusthavemeanttoMiguel.ItdawnedonherthateventhoughMiguelwasaservant,Papamayhavethoughtofhimasthesonheneverhad.ButPapa’sinfluencewasgone.WhatwouldhappentoMiguel’sdreamsnow?“AndintheUnitedStates?”sheaskedquietly.“IhearthatintheUnitedStates,youdonotneedunapalanca.Thateventhepoorestmancanbecome

richifheworkshardenough.”

Theyhadbeenonthetrainforfourdaysandnightswhenawomangotonwithawirecagecontainingsixred hens. The chickens squawked and cackled andwhen they flapped theirwings, tiny russet feathersfloated around the car.Thewoman sat oppositeMama andHortensia andwithinminutes she had toldthemthathernamewasCarmen,thatherhusbandhaddiedandleftherwitheightchildren,andthatshehadbeenatherbrother’shousehelpinghisfamilywithanewbaby.“Wouldyoulikedulces,sweets?”sheaskedEsperanza,holdingopenabag.

EsperanzalookedatMama,whosmiledandnoddedherapproval.Esperanzahesitantlyreachedinsideandtookoutasquareofcoconutcandy.Mamahadneverpermitted

hertotakecandyfromsomeoneshedidn’tknowbefore,especiallyfromapoorperson.“Señora,whydoyoutravelwiththehens?”askedMama.“Iselleggstofeedmyfamily.Mybrotherraiseshensandhegavethesetome.”“Andyoucansupportyourlargefamilythatway?”askedHortensia.Carmensmiled.“Iampoor,butIamrich.Ihavemychildren,Ihaveagardenwithroses,andIhavemy

faithandthememoriesofthosewhohavegonebeforeme.Whatmoreisthere?”Hortensia andMama smiled, nodding their heads. And after a few thoughtfulmoments,Mamawas

blottingawaystraytears.The three women continued talking as the train passed fields of corn, orange orchards, and cows

grazingonrollinghills.Theytalkedasthetraintraveledthroughsmalltowns,wherepeasantchildrenranafterthecaboose,justforthesakeofrunning.Soon,MamawasconfidinginCarmen,tellingherallthathadhappenedwithPapaandTíoLuis.Carmenlistenedandmadecluckingnoiseslikeoneofherhens,asif she understood Mama’s and Esperanza’s problems. Esperanza looked from Mama to Carmen toHortensia. She was amazed at how easily Carmen had plopped herself down and had plunged intointimateconversation.Itdidn’tseemcorrectsomehow.Mamahadalwaysbeensoproperandconcernedaboutwhatwassaidandnotsaid.InAguascalientes,shewouldhavethought itwas“inappropriate”totellaneggwomantheirproblems,yetnowshedidn’thesitate.“Mama,”whisperedEsperanza,takingonatoneshehadheardMamausemanytimes.“Doyouthinkit

iswisetotellapeasantourpersonalbusiness?”Mamatriednottosmile.Shewhisperedback,“Itisallright,Esperanza,becausenowwearepeasants,

too.”Esperanza ignoredMama’s comment.Whatwaswrongwith her?Had all ofMama’s rules changed

sincetheyhadboardedthistrain?When they pulled intoCarmen’s town,Mama gave her three of the beautiful lace carpetas she had

made.“Foryourhouse,”shesaid.CarmengaveMamatwochickens,inanoldshoppingbagthatshetiedwithstring.“Foryourfuture,”

shesaid.ThenMama,Hortensia,andCarmenhuggedasiftheyhadbeenfriendsforever.“Buenasuerte,goodluck,”theysaidtooneanother.AlfonsoandMiguelhelpedCarmenwithherpackagesandthecageofchickens.WhenMiguelgotback

onthetrain,hesatnexttoEsperanza,nearthewindow.TheywatchedCarmengreetherwaitingchildren,severalofthelittleonesscramblingintoherarms.Infrontofthestation,acrippledIndianwomancrawledonherknees,herhandoutstretchedtowarda

group of ladies and gentlemen who were finely dressed in clothes like the ones that used to hang in

Esperanza’s and Mama’s closets. The people turned their backs on the begging woman but Carmenwalkedoverandgaveheracoinandsome tortillas fromherbag.Thewomanblessedher,makingthesignofthecross.ThenCarmentookherchildren’shandsandwalkedaway.“She has eight children and sells eggs to survive.Yetwhen she can barely afford it she gave your

mother twohensandhelpedthecrippledwoman,”saidMiguel.“Therich takecareof therichandthepoortakecareofthosewhohavelessthantheyhave.”“ButwhydoesCarmenneed to take care of the beggar at all?” saidEsperanza. “Look.Only a few

yardsawayisthefarmer’smarketwithcartsoffreshfood.”MiguellookedatEsperanza,wrinkledhisforehead,andshookhishead.“ThereisaMexicansaying:

‘FullbelliesandSpanishbloodgohandinhand.’”Esperanzalookedathimandraisedhereyebrows.“Have you never noticed?” he said, sounding surprised. “Thosewith Spanish blood,who have the

fairestcomplexionsintheland,arethewealthiest.”Esperanzasuddenlyfeltguiltyanddidnotwanttoadmitthatshehadnevernoticedorthatitmightbe

true.Besides,theyweregoingtotheUnitedStatesnowanditcertainlywouldnotbetruethere.Esperanzashrugged.“Itisjustsomethingthatoldwivessay.”“No,”saidMiguel.“Itissomethingthepoorsay.”

TheyreachedtheborderatMexicaliinthemorning.Finally,thetrainstoppedmovingandeveryonedisembarked. The land was dry and the panorama was barren except for date palms, cactus, and anoccasionalsquirrelor roadrunner.Theconductorsherdedeveryone intoabuildingwhere theystood inlonglineswaitingtopass throughimmigration.Esperanzanoticedthat thepeople in thefirstcarswereescortedtotheshortestlinesandpassedthroughquickly.Inside, theairwasstagnantand thickwith thesmellofbodyodor.EsperanzaandMama, their faces

shinywithgrimeandperspiration,lookedtiredandwiltedandtheyslumpedwitheventheslightweightoftheirvalises.ThecloserEsperanzagottothefront, themorenervousshebecame.Shelookedatherpapersandhopedtheywereinorder.Whatiftheofficialsfoundsomethingwrong?Wouldtheysendherbacktoheruncles?Wouldtheyarrestherandputherinjail?Shereachedthedeskandhandedoverthedocuments.Theimmigrationofficialseemedangryfornoreason.“Whereareyoucomingfrom?”ShelookedatMamawhowasbehindher.“WearefromAguascalientes,”saidMama,steppingforward.“AndwhatisyourpurposeforenteringtheUnitedStates?”Esperanzawasafraidtospeak.Whatifshesaidthewrongthing?“Towork,”saidMama,handinghimherdocumentsaswell.“Whatwork?”demandedtheman.Mama’s demeanor changed. She stood up straight and tall and deliberately blotted her face with a

handkerchief.Shelookeddirectlyintotheofficial’seyesandspokecalmlyasifsheweregivingsimpledirectionstoaservant.“Iamsureyoucanseethateverythingis inorder.Thenameoftheemployeriswrittenthere.Peopleareexpectingus.”ThemanstudiedMama.Helookedattheirfaces,thenthepages,thentheirfacesagain.Standingtallandproud,Mamanevertookhereyesfromhisface.Whywasittakingsolong?Finally,hegrabbedthestampandpoundedeachpagewiththewords“MexicanNational.”Heshoved

their papers at them and waved them through. Mama took Esperanza’s hand and hurried her towardanothertrain.Theyboardedandwaitedanhourforallthepassengerstogetthroughimmigration.Esperanzalooked

out the window. Across the tracks, several groups of people were being prodded onto another trainheadedbacktowardMexico.“Myheartachesforthosepeople.Theycameallthiswayjusttobesentback,”saidMama.“Butwhy?”askedEsperanza.

“Many reasons. They had no papers, false ones, or no proof of work. Or theremight have been aproblemwithjustonememberofthefamilysotheyallchosetogobackinsteadofbeingseparated.”EsperanzathoughtaboutbeingseparatedfromMamaandgratefullytookherhandandsqueezedit.AlmosteveryonehadboardedexceptAlfonso,Hortensia,andMiguel.Esperanzakeptlookingforthem,

andshebecamemoreanxiouswitheachpassingminute.“Mama,wherearethey?”MamasaidnothingbutEsperanzacouldseeworryinhereyes,too.Finally,Hortensiagoton.Thetrain’senginesbegantochug.Hervoicetense,Esperanzasaid,“WhathappenedtoAlfonsoandMiguel?”Hortensiapointedoutthewindow.“Theyhadtofindsomewater.”Alfonso was running toward the train with Miguel close behind, waving the secret package and

grinning.Thetrainslowlystartedmovingastheyhoppedon.Esperanzawantedtobeangryatthemformakingheranxious.Shewantedtoyellatthemforwaiting

until the very last minute just so they could find water for their package that was probably nonsenseanyway.Butlookingfromonetotheother,shesatback,limpwithrelief,happytohavethemalltogethersurroundingher,andsurprisedthatshecouldbesogladtobebackonthetrain.

“Anza,we’rehere.Wakeup!”Shesatupgroggily,barelyopeninghereyes.“Whatdayisthis?”sheasked.“You’vebeenasleepforhours.Wakeup!ItisThursday.AndwearehereinLosAngeles!”“Look, there they are!” saidAlfonso, pointingout thewindow. “Mybrother, Juan, and Josefina, his

wife.Andhischildren,Isabelandthetwins.Theyhaveallcome.”Acampesinofamilywavedtothem.JuanandJosefinaeachheldababyaboutayearoldintheirarms.

Itwaseasytoseethat themanwasAlfonso’sbrother,eventhoughhedidn’thaveamustache.Josefinawasplumpwitha round faceandacomplexion thatwas fairer thanEsperanza’s.Shewassmilingandwavingwithherfreehand.Nexttoherstoodagirlabouteightyearsold,wearingadressthatwastoobigandshoeswithnosocks.Delicateandfrail,withbigbrowneyes,longbraids,andskinnylegs,shelookedlikeayoungdeer.Esperanzacouldn’thelpbutthinkhowmuchshelookedlikethedollPapahadgivenher.Therewasmuchhuggingamongalltherelatives.Alfonsosaid,“Everyone,thisisSeñoraOrtegaandEsperanza.”“Alfonso,pleasecallmeRamona.”“Yes,ofcourse,Señora.Myfamilyfeelsliketheyknowyoubecausewehaveallwrittenlettersabout

youforyears.”MamahuggedJuanandJosefinaandsaid,“Thankyouforallyouhavedoneforusalready.”

Miguelteasedhiscousin,pullingherbraids.“Esperanza,thisisIsabel.”IsabellookedatEsperanza,hereyeswidewithwonder,andinavoicethatwassoftandwhisperysaid,

“Wereyoureallysoverywealthy?Didyoualwaysgetyourway,andhaveallthedollsandfancydressesyouwanted?”Esperanza’smouthpressedintoanirritatedline.ShecouldonlyimaginethelettersMiguelhadwritten.

HadhetoldIsabelthatinMexicotheystoodondifferentsidesoftheriver?“Thetruckisthisway,”saidJuan.“Wehavealongride.”EsperanzapickeduphervaliseandfollowedIsabel’sfather.Shelookedaroundandwasrelievedto

see that compared to the desert, LosAngeles had lush palms and green grass and even though itwasSeptember,roseswerestillbloomingintheflowerbeds.Shetookadeepbreath.Thearomaoforangesfromanearbygrovewasreassuringandfamiliar.Maybeitwouldn’tbesodifferenthere.Juan,Josefina,Mama,andHortensiacrowdedontothefrontseatofthericketytruck.Isabel,Esperanza,

Alfonso,andMiguelsatinthetruckbedwiththebabiesandthetworedhens.Thevehiclelookedlikeitshouldbehaulinganimalsinsteadofpeople,butEsperanzahadsaidnothingtoMama.Besides,aftersomanydaysonthetrain,itfeltgoodtostretchoutherlegs.TheoldjalopyrockedandswayedasitclimbedoutoftheSanFernandoValley,weavingupthrough

hillscoveredwithdried-outshrubs.Shesatwithherbackagainstthecabandthehotwindwhippedherloosehair.Alfonsotiedablanketacrossthewoodenslatstomakeacanopyofshade.Thebabies,LupeandPepe,agirlandaboy,weredark-eyedcherubs,withthickmopsofblackhair.

Esperanzawassurprisedathowmuchtheylookedalike;theonlydifferencewasthetinygoldearringsinLupe’sears.PepecrawledintoEsperanza’slapandLupeintoIsabel’s.WhenthebabyfellasleepagainstEsperanza,hisheadsliddownherarm,leavingastreamofperspiration.“Isitalwayssohothere?”sheasked.“Mypapasaysitisthedryairthatmakesitsohotandsometimesitisevenhotter,”saidIsabel.“Butit

isbetterthanlivinginElCentrobecausenowwedonothavetoliveinatent.”“Atent?”“LastyearweworkedforanotherfarminElCentrointheImperialValley,nottoofarfromtheborder.

Wewerethereduringthemelons.Welivedinatentwithadirtfloorandhadtocarrywater.Wecookedoutside.But thenwemoved north toArvin. That’swherewe’re going now.A big company owns thecamp.Wepay sevendollars amonthandmypapa says it isworth it tohavepiped-in coldwater andelectricityandakitcheninside.Hesaysthefarmissixthousandacres.”IsabelleanedtowardEsperanzaandgrinnedasifsheweretellingabigsecret.“Andaschool.Nextweek,Igettogotoschool,andIwilllearntoread.Canyouread?”“Ofcourse,”saidEsperanza.“Willyougotoschool?”askedIsabel.“Iwent toprivate school and startedwhen Iwas four so Ihavealreadypassed through level eight.

Whenmygrandmothercomes,maybeIwillgotohighschool.”“Well,whenIgotoschool,IwilllearninEnglish,”saidIsabel.Esperanzanoddedandtriedtosmileback.Isabelwassohappy,shethought,aboutsuchlittlethings.Thebrown,barrenmountainsrosehigherandared-tailedhawkseemedtofollowthemformiles.The

truckrattledupasteepgradepastsparse,drycanyonsandEsperanza’searsbegantofeelfullandtight.“Howmuchlonger?”“Wewillstopforlunchsoon,”saidIsabel.Theywove through thegoldenhills, softly sculptedwith rounded tops,until Juan finally slowed the

truckandturneddownasideroad.Whentheycametoanareashadedbyasingletree,theypiledoutofthe truckandJosefinaspreadablanketon theground, thenunwrappedabundleofburritos,avocados,andgrapes.Theysatintheshadeandate.Mama,Hortensia,andJosefinachattedandwatchedthebabieswhileIsabellaydownontheblanketbetweenAlfonsoandJuan.Shewassoonasleep.Esperanzawanderedawayfromthegroup,gratefulnottoberockinginatruckoratrain.Shewalkedto

anoverlook.Below,canyonsplungedtoanarroyo,asilverlineofwaterfromanunknownriver.Itwasquietandpeacefulhere,thesweetsilencebrokenonlybytheswishofdriedgrassesfromthewind.Withherfeetsolidonthegroundforthefirsttimeinmanydays,EsperanzarememberedwhatPapahad

taughtherwhen shewas little: If she layon the land, andwasvery still andquiet, shecouldhear theheartbeatofthevalley.“CanIhearitfromhere,Papa?”She stretched out on her stomach and reached her arms to the side, hugging the earth. She let the

stillnesssettleuponherandlistened.Sheheardnothing.Bepatient,sheremindedherself,andthefruitwillfallintoyourhand.She listenedagain,but theheartbeatwasnot there.She triedonemore time,desperatelywanting to

hearit.Buttherewasnoreassuringthumprepeatingitself.Nosoundoftheearth’sheartbeat.OrPapa’s.Therewasonlythepricklysoundofdrygrass.Determined,Esperanzapressedherearhardertotheground.“Ican’thearit!”Shepoundedtheearth.

“Letmehearit.”Tearsburstfromhereyesasifsomeonehadsqueezedanoverripeorange.Confusionanduncertaintyspilledforthandbecameanarroyooftheirown.Sherolledonherback,hertearswormingdownherfaceintoherears.Seeingnothingbutthevastsky

indizzyingswirlsofblueandwhite,shebegantofeelasifshewerefloatinganddriftingupward.Sheliftedhigherandpartofherlikedthesensationbutanotherpartofherfeltuntetheredandfrightened.Shetriedtofindtheplaceinherheartwhereherlifewasanchored,butshecouldn’t,sosheclosedhereyesandpressed thepalmsofherhandsagainst theearth,makingsure itwas there.She feltas if shewerefalling,careeningthroughthehotair.Herskinperspiredandshefeltcoldandnauseous.Shetookshortbreaths,heavinginandout.

Suddenly,theworldwentblack.Someonehoveredoverher.Shesatupquickly.Howlonghadshebeeninthedarkness?Sheheldherpoundingchestandlookedup

atMiguel.“Anza,areyouallright?”Shetookadeepbreathandbrushedoffherdress.Hadshereallyfloatedabovetheearth?HadMiguel

seenher?Sheknewherfacewasredandblotchy.“I’mfine,”shesaidquickly,wipingthetearsfromherface.“Don’ttellMama.Youknow…sheworries…”Miguelnodded.Hesatdownclosetoher.Withoutaskinganyquestions,hetookherhandandstayed

withher,thequietinterruptedonlybyheroccasionalstaccatobreaths.“Imisshim,too,”Miguelwhispered,squeezingherhand.“ImisstheranchandMexicoandAbuelita,

everything.AndIamsorryaboutwhatIsabelsaidtoyou.Imeantnothingbyit.”Shestaredatthedarkbrownandpurpleridgesstaggeredinthedistanceandlettheripetearscascade

downhercheeks.Andthistime,EsperanzadidnotletgoofMiguel’shand.

TheywereheadingdownasteepgradeonHighway99whenIsabelsaid,“Look!”Esperanzaleanedaroundthesideofthetruck.Astheyroundedacurve,itappearedasifthemountains

pulledawayfromeachother,likeacurtainopeningonastage,revealingtheSanJoaquinValleybeyond.Flatandspacious,itspreadoutlikeablanketofpatchworkfields.Esperanzacouldseenoendtotheplotsofyellow,brown,andshadesofgreen.Theroadfinally leveledouton thevalley floor,andshegazedback at themountains fromwhere they’d come.They looked likemonstrous lions’ paws resting at theedgeoftheridge.AbigtruckblewitshornandJuanpulledovertoletitpass,itsbedbulgingwithcantaloupes.Another

truckandanotherdidthesame.Acaravanoftruckspassedthem,allpiledhighwiththeroundmelons.Ononesideofthehighway,acresofgrapevinesstretchedoutinsoldieredrowsandswallowedupthe

arbors.Ontheotherside,fieldsandfieldsofdarkgreencottonplantsbecameaseaofmilk-whitepuffs.ThiswasnotagentlyrollinglandscapelikeAguascalientes.Forasfarastheeyecouldtravel,thelandwasunbrokenbyevenahillock.Esperanzafeltdizzylookingattherepeatedstraightrowsofgrapesandhadtoturnherheadaway.They finally turnedeastoff themainhighway.The truckwent slowernowandEsperanzacould see

workersinthefields.PeoplewavedandJuanhonkedthetruckhorninreturn.Thenhepulledthetrucktothe side of the road and pointed to a field that had been cleared of its harvest.Dried, rambling vinescoveredtheacreandleftovermelonsdottedtheground.“Thefieldmarkersaredown.Wecantakeasmanyaswecancarry,”hecalledbacktothem.

Alfonsojumpedout,tossedadozencantaloupestoMiguel,thensteppedupontherunningboardandslapped the topof the truck for Juan to start again.Themelons,warmedby thevalley sun, rolled andsomersaultedwitheachbumpofthetruck.TwogirlswalkingalongtheroadwavedandJuanstoppedagain.Oneofthemclimbedin,agirlabout

Miguel’sage.Herhairwasshort,black,andcurlyandherfeaturesweresharpandpointed.Sheleanedbackagainstthesideofthetruck,herhandsbehindherhead,andshestudiedEsperanza,hereyesdartingatMiguelwhenevershecould.“ThisisMarta,”saidIsabel.“Shelivesatanothercampwheretheypickcottonbutit isownedbya

differentcompany.Herauntanduncleliveatourcampsoshestayswiththemsometimes.”“Whereareyoufrom?”askedMarta.“Aguascalientes.ElRanchodelasRosas,”saidEsperanza.“IhaveneverheardofElRanchodelasRosas.Isthatatown?”“Itwastheranchtheylivedon,”saidIsabelproudly,hereyesroundandshining.“Esperanza’sfather

owneditandthousandsofacresofland.Shehadlotsofservantsandbeautifuldressesandshewenttoprivateschool,too.Miguelismycousinandheandhisparentsworkedforthem.”“Soyou’reaprincesswho’scometobeapeasant?Where’sallyourfinery?”Esperanzastaredatherandsaidnothing.“What’sthematter,silverspoonstuckinyourmouth?”Hervoicewassmartandbiting.“Afiredestroyedeverything.Sheandhermotherhavecometowork,liketherestofus,”saidMiguel.Confused,Isabeladded,“Esperanza’snice.Herpapadied.”“Well,my father died, too,” saidMarta. “Before he came to this country, he fought in theMexican

revolutionagainstpeoplelikeherfatherwhoownedalltheland.”EsperanzastaredbackatMarta,unblinking.Whathadshedonetodeservethisgirl’sinsults?Through

grittedteeth,shesaid,“Youknownothingofmypapa.Hewasagood,kindmanwhogavemuchofhispropertytohisservants.”“Thatmightbeso,”saidMarta.“Buttherewereplentyoftherichwhodidnot.”“Thatwasnotmypapa’sfault.”Isabelpointedtooneofthefields,tryingtochangethesubject.“ThosepeopleareFilipinos,”shesaid.

“Theyliveintheirowncamp.Andseeoverthere?”Shepointedtoafielddowntheroad.“ThosepeoplearefromOklahoma.TheyliveinCamp8.There’saJapanesecamp,too.Weallliveseparateandworkseparate.Theydon’tmixus.”“Theydon’twantusbanding together forhigherwagesorbetterhousing,”saidMarta.“Theowners

thinkifMexicanshavenohotwater,thatwewon’tmindaslongaswethinknoonehasany.Theydon’twantustalkingtotheOkiesfromOklahomaoranyoneelsebecausewemightdiscoverthattheyhavehotwater.See?”“DotheOkieshavehotwater?”askedMiguel.

“Notyet,butiftheygetit,wewillstrike.”“Strike?”saidMiguel.“Youmeanyouwillstopworking?Don’tyouneedyourjob?”“OfcourseIneedmyjob,butifalltheworkersjointogetherandrefusetowork,wemightallgetbetter

conditions.”“Aretheconditionssobad?”askedMiguel.“Somearedecent.Theplaceyouaregoingtoisoneofthebetterones.Theyevenhavefiestas.There’s

ajamaicathisSaturdaynight.”IsabelturnedtoEsperanza.“Youwilllovethejamaicas.WehavethemeverySaturdaynightduringthe

summer.Thereismusicandfoodanddancing.ThisSaturdayisthelastforthisyearbecausesoonitwillbetoocold.”EsperanzanoddedandtriedtopayattentiontoIsabel.MartaandMigueltalkedandgrinnedbackand

forth.Anunfamiliar feelingwascreepingup insideofEsperanza.Shewanted to tossMartaoutof themovingtruckandscoldMiguelforeventalkingtoher.Hadn’theseenherrudeness?Shebroodedastheyrodepastmilesofyoungtamarisktreesthatseemedtobetheborderofsomeone’s

property.“BeyondthosetreesistheMexicancamp,”saidIsabel,“wherewelive.”MartasmirkedatEsperanzaandsaid,“Justsoyouknow.Thisisn’tMexico.Noonewillbewaitingon

youhere.”Thenshegaveheraphonysmileandsaid,“¿Entiendes?Understand?”Esperanza stared back at her in silence.Theone thing she did understandwas that she did not like

Marta.

“We’rehere,”saidIsabel,asthetruckturnedintocampandslowedtoacrawl.Esperanzastoodupandlookedoverthecab.

Theywere in a large clearing, surroundedbygrape fields.Rowupon rowofwhitewooden cabinsformedlonglines,connectedlikebunkhouses.Eachcabinhadonesmallwindowandtwowoodenstepsthatledtothedoor.Shecouldn’thelpbutthinkthattheyweren’tevenasniceastheservants’cabinsinAguascalientes.TheyremindedEsperanzamoreofthehorsestallsontheranchthanofaplaceforpeopletolive.Abigmountainloomedintheeast,framingonesideofthevalley.Martajumpedoutandrantowardsomegirlsstandingtogethernearthecabins.Esperanzacouldhear

themtalkinginEnglish,thewordshardandclipped,asiftheywerespeakingwithsticksintheirmouths.They all looked at her and laughed. She turned away, thinking that if Isabel could learn English, thenmaybesomedayshecouldlearnit,too.A lineof flatbed truckspulled into a clearing andcampesinos hopped down, home from the fields.

Peoplecalled tooneanother.Children ran to their fathersyelling,“Papi!Papi!”Esperanza feltadeeppang.Shewatchedandwonderedhowshewouldfitintothisworld.Isabelpointedtoawoodenbuildingofftotheside.“That’swheretheyhaveallthetoilets.”Esperanzacringedasshetriedtoimaginehavingnoprivacy.“We’relucky,”saidIsabelsolemnly.“Insomecamps,wehadtogoinditches.”Esperanzalookeddownather,swallowed,andnodded,suddenlythankfulforsomething.AforemancameoverandshookhandswithJuanandAlfonsoandpointedtothecabininfrontofthe

truck.Thewomengotout,tookthebabies,andhelpedMiguelwiththebags.MamaandEsperanzawalkedintothecabin.Ithadtwosmallrooms.Onehalfofthefrontroomwasthe

kitchenwith a stove, sink, and counter, and a table and chairs.Apile ofwoodwaitednear the stove.Across the roomwas amattresson the floor.Theback roomhadanothermattressbig enough for twopeopleandatinycot.Inbetweensatawoodenfruitcrate,tobeusedasanighttable,itssidestouchingeachbed.Abovewasanothersmallwindow.MamalookedaroundandthengaveEsperanzaaweaksmile.“IsthisourcabinorHortensia’sandAlfonso’s?”askedEsperanza,hopingthathersandMama’smight

bebetter.“Wearealltogetherinthiscabin,”saidMama.“Mama,wecan’tpossiblyallfit!”“Esperanza,theywillonlygiveonecabinforeachmanwithafamily.Thereisnohousingforsingle

women.Thisisafamilycampsowemusthaveamaleheadofhouseholdtoliveandworkhere.AndthatisAlfonso.”Mamasanktothebed.Hervoicesoundedtired.“Hehastoldthemwearehiscousinsandif

anyoneasksus,wemustsayit’strue.Otherwisewecannotstay.WearenextdoortoJuanandJosefinasowe can adjust the sleeping arrangements.Miguelwill sleep next doorwith them and the babies.AndIsabelwillsleepherewithAlfonso,Hortensia,andus.”Miguelcameinandsetdowntheirvalises,thenleft.EsperanzacouldhearAlfonsoandHortensiainthe

nextroom,talkingaboutthecampoffice.Mamagotuptounpackandbegantosing.Esperanza felt anger crawling up her throat. “Mama,we are living like horses!Howcan you sing?

Howcanyoubehappy?Wedon’tevenhavearoomtocallourown.”Thetalkingsuddenlystoppedintheotherroom.MamagaveEsperanzaalong,hardlook.Shecalmlywalkedoverandshutthedoortothesmallroom.“Sitdown,”shesaid.Esperanzasatonthetinycot,itsspringsscreeching.Mamasatonthebedoppositeher,theirkneesalmosttouching.“Esperanza,ifwehadstayedinMexico

andIhadmarriedTíoLuis,wewouldhavehadonechoice.Tobeapartandmiserable.Here,wehavetwochoices.Tobe togetherandmiserableor tobe togetherandhappy.Mija,wehaveeachother andAbuelita will come. Howwould she want you to behave? I choose to be happy. So which will youchoose?”SheknewwhatMamawantedtohear.“Happy,”shesaidquietly.“Doyouknowhowluckyweare,Esperanza?Manypeoplecometothisvalleyandwaitmonthsfora

job.Juanwenttoalotoftroubletomakesurewehadthiscabinwaitingforuswhenwegothere.Pleasebegratefulforthefavorsbestoweduponus.”Mamabentoverandkissedher,thenlefttheroom.Esperanzalaiddownonthecot.Afewminuteslater,Isabelcameinandsatonthebed.“Willyoutellmewhatitwasliketobesovery

rich?”ShelookedatIsabel,hereyesanticipatingsomewonderfulstory.Esperanzawasquietforamoment,clingingtoonepossiblethought.Thenshesaid,“Iamstill rich, Isabel.WewillonlybehereuntilAbuelita iswellenough to travel.

Thenshewillcomewithhermoneyandwewillbuyabighouse.Ahouse thatPapawouldhavebeenproudforustolivein.MaybewewillbuytwohousessothatHortensia,Alfonso,andMiguelcanliveinoneandworkforusagain.Andyoucanvisitus,Isabel.Yousee,thisisonlytemporary.Wewillnotbehereforlong.”“¿Deveras?”askedIsabel.“Yes,itisthetruth,”saidEsperanza,staringattheceilingthatsomeonehadcoveredwithnewspaper

andcardboard.“Mypapawouldneverhavewantedustoliveinaplacelikethis.”SheclosedhereyesandheardIsabeltiptoeoutoftheroomandshutthedoor.Thewearinessfromthedaysoftravelfloodedoverher,andhermindwanderedfrompeoplepeeingin

ditches,toMarta’srudeness,tothehorsestallsatElRanchodelasRosas.Howcouldshebehappyorgratefulwhenshehadneverbeenmoremiserableinherlife?

WhenEsperanzaopenedhereyesagain,itwasalmostlightandsheheardMama,Hortensia,andAlfonsotalkinginthenextroom.Shehadsleptthroughdinnerandtheentirenight.Shesmelledcaféandchorizo.The coffee and sausagemade her stomach growl and she tried to rememberwhen she had last eaten.IsabelwasstillasleepinthebednexttoherssoEsperanzaquietlypulledonalongwrinkledskirtandwhiteblouse.Shebrushedherhairandwentintotheotherroom.“Goodmorning,”saidMama.“Sitdownandeatsomething.Youmustbestarved.”Atthetable,Hortensiapattedherhand.“Youmissedgoingtotheforeman’sofficelastnight.Wesigned

thepaperstolivehere.Wealreadyhaveworktoday.”Mamaputaplateoftortillas,eggs,andsausageinfrontofher.“Wheredidallthefoodcomefrom?”askedEsperanza.“Josefina,”saidHortensia.“Shebroughtsomegroceriesuntilwecangotothestorethisweekend.”“Esperanza,” saidMama, “you and Isabel will be watching the babies while the rest of us work.

Alfonso and Juanwill be picking grapes andHortensia, Josefina, and Iwill be packing grapes in thesheds.”“ButIwanttoworkwithyouandHortensiaandJosefina!”“You’renotoldenoughtoworkinthesheds,”saidMama.“AndIsabelisnotoldenoughtowatchthe

babies by herself. If you watch the babies, then Josefina can work and that is one more paying jobbetweenus.Wemustalldoourpart.Youwillhaveacampjob,too,sweepingthewoodenplatformeveryafternoon,forwhichtheywilldeductalittlefromourrenteachmonth.Isabelcanshowyouwhattodolater.”“What’stheplatform?”Esperanzaasked.“It’s thebigwoodenfloor,outside, in themiddleof thecamp.Juansaid theyuseit formeetingsand

dances,”saidMama.Esperanzastaredatherfood.Shedidnotwanttobestuckincampwiththechildren.“Where’sMiguel?”shesaid.“HealreadyleftforBakersfieldwithsomeothermentolookforworkattherailroad,”saidAlfonso.Isabelcameoutofthebedroomrubbinghereyes.“Misobrina,my niece,” saidHortensia, hugging Isabel. “Go say goodmorning to yourmother and

fatherbeforeweallleaveforwork.”Isabelhuggedherandrannextdoor.EsperanzastudiedMamaas shemadeunburritode frijoles for lunchandwrapped the soft tortilla

filledwithpintobeansinpaper.Shelookeddifferent.Wasitthelongcottondressandthebigfloweredaprontiedatherwaist?No,itwasmorethanthat.“Mama,”saidEsperanza.“Yourhair!”Mama’shairrandownherbackinasinglelongbraid,almosttouchingherwaist.Esperanzahadnever

seenMamawearherhairthatway.Itwasalwaysdoneupinherbeautifulplaitedbun,orwhenshewasready for bed, brushed out and flowing. Mama looked shorter and, somehow, not herself. Esperanzadidn’tlikeit.Mamareachedupandstrokedthebackofherhead.Sheseemedembarrassed.“I…IfiguredoutthatI

can’twearahatwithmyhairontopofmyhead.Andthismakesmoresense,doesitnot?Afterall,Iamgoingtoworktoday,nottoafiesta.”ThenshehuggedEsperanza.“Wemustgonow.Thetrucksleaveat6:30totakeustothesheds.TakegoodcareofthebabiesandstaywithIsabel.Sheknowsthecamp.”As the three of themwalked out, Esperanza noticedMama reaching up, hesitantly touching her hair

again.WhenEsperanzafinishedeating,shewentoutsideandstoodonthefrontstep.Insteadoffacinganother

rowofcabins,theircabinwasinthelastrowfacingthefields.Straightahead,acrossadirtroad,wereseveralchinaberrytreesandamulberrytreethatprovideddeepshadeoverawoodentable.Beyondtherowoftreesweregrapefields,stilllush.Totheright,acrossagrassyfield,wasthemainroad.Atruckpiledhighwithproducedroveby,losingacloudofdebris.After itpassed, thesharpsmell toldher theywereonions, thedryouterskinsbeingshreddedby the

wind.Anothertruckfollowed.Againthesmellbitintohersenses.Itwasstillearlysotheairwascool,butthesunwasbrightandsheknewitwouldbehotsoon.The

henspeckedandpokedaroundthefrontsteps.Theymusthavebeenhappytobeoffthetrain.Esperanzashooedthemoutofherwayassheturnedandwalkednextdoor.The babieswere still in their pajamas. Isabelwas struggling to feedLupe her oatmealwhile Pepe

crawledonthefloor.Splotchesofhiscerealstillstucktohischeeks.AssoonashesawEsperanza,hereachedupforher.“Let’scleanthemup,”saidIsabel.“AndthenI’llshowyouthecamp.”First,IsabeltookEsperanzatotheplatformshewastosweepandshowedherwherethebroomswere

stored.Thentheywalkedthroughtherowsofcabins,eachwithababyonherhip.Astheypassedopendoors, Esperanza could already smell the beans and onions that someone had started simmering fordinner.Womenweredraggingbigmetalwashtubsbeneaththeshadetrees.Agroupofyoungboyskickedaballupanddownthedirtroad,stirringupdust.Alittlegirl,wearingaman’sundershirtasadress,ranuptoIsabelandtookherhand.“ThisisSilvia.Sheismybestfriend.Nextweek,wewillgotoschooltogether.”SilviaswitchedaroundandgrabbedEsperanza’sfreehand.EsperanzalookeddownatSilvia’sdirtyhands.SilviagrinnedupatherandEsperanza’sfirstthought

wastopullherhandawayandwashitassoonaspossible.ThensherememberedMama’skindnesstothepeasantgirlonthetrain—andherdisappointmentinEsperanza.Shedidn’twantSilviatostartcryingifsheweretopullaway.Shelookedaroundatthedustycampandthoughtthatitmustbehardtostaycleaninsuchaplace.ShesqueezedSilvia’shandandsaid,“Ihaveabestfriend,too.HernameisMarisolandshelivesinAguascalientes.”Isabel introducedEsperanza to IreneandMelina, twowomenwhowerehangingclothes todryona

long linestretchedbetween thecabinsanda tree. Irenehad longgrayhair tied ina tail.Melinadidn’tlookmucholderthanMiguelandshealreadyhadababyofherown.“WeheardthestoryofhowyoucamefromAguascalientes,”saidMelina.“Myhusbandisfromthere.

HeusedtoworkforSeñorRodríguez.”Esperanza’sfacelitupatthisnews.“Heknewmyfathersincehewasaboy.Doyouthinkyourhusband

knewMarisol,SeñorRodríguez’sdaughter?”Melina laughed. “No, no. I’m sure he didn’t.Hewasuncampesino, a field servant.Hewould not

knowthefamily.”Esperanza felt awkwardanddidn’tmean tomakeMelinaadmit thatherhusbandwasa servant.But

Melina didn’t seem bothered and began recalling other farms her husband had worked on inAguascalientes.IsabelpulledonEsperanza’sarm.“Weneedtochangethebabies.”Astheywalkedbacktothecabin,shesaid,“Theyaremotheranddaughter.Theycomeovertotalkand

crochetwithmymotherallthetime.”“Howdotheyknowallaboutusalready?”Isabelraisedherhandandmadeherfingerstapupanddownonherthumbasifamouthwastalking.

“Everyoneincampknowseachother’sbusiness.”

“Doyouknowhowtochangeadiaper?”askedEsperanzawhentheygotbacktothecabin.“Certainly,”saidIsabel.“Iwillchange themandyoucanrinseout thediapers.Weneed todosome

laundry,too.”Esperanzawatchedastheyounggirllaidthebabiesdownoneatatime,unpinnedtheirdiapers,wiped

theirbottomsclean,andpinnedonfreshdiapers.IsabelhandedEsperanzathesmellybundlesandsaid,“TakethemtothetoiletsanddumpthemandI’ll

fillthewashtub.”Esperanzaheldthematarm’slengthandalmostrantothetoilets.Severalmoreoniontruckspassedby,

their smell accosting her eyes and nose asmuch as the diapers. By the time she got back, Isabel hadalready filled twowashtubswithwater fromanoutsidepipe andwas swirling soap around in oneof

them.Awashboardwasproppedinside.Esperanzawenttothewashtubandhesitated,staringintothewater.Bitsofonionskinsfloatedonthe

surfaceof thesoapywater.Sheheldacornerofoneof thediapers, lightlydipping it inandoutof thewater, her hand never gettingwet.After a few seconds, she gingerly lifted the diaper from thewater.“Nowwhat?”shesaid.“Esperanza!Youmustscrubthem!Likethis.”Isabelwalkedover,tookthediapers,andplungedthem

into thewater up to her elbows.Thewater quickly becamemurky.She rubbed the diaperswith soap,vigorously scrubbed themback and forth on thewashboard, andwrung themout.Then she transferredthemtothenexttub,rinsingandwringingagain.Isabelshookoutthecleandiapersandhungthemonthelinestretchedbetweenthechinaberryandmulberrytrees.Thenshestartedontheclothes.Esperanzawasamazed.ShehadneverwashedanythinginherlifeandIsabel,whowasonlyeightyearsold,madeitlooksoeasy.Puzzled,IsabellookedatEsperanza.“Don’tyouknowhowtowashclothes?”“Well,Hortensia tookeverythingout to the laundryquarters.And the servants, theyalways…”She

lookedatIsabelandshookherheadno.Isabel’seyesgotbiggerandshelookedworried.“Esperanza,whenIgotoschoolnextweek,youwill

beherealonewiththebabiesandwillhavetodothelaundry.”Esperanzatookadeepbreathandsaidweakly,“Icanlearn.”“Andlatertoday,youmustsweeptheplatform.You…youdoknowhowtosweep?”“Ofcourse,”saidEsperanza.Shehadseenpeoplesweepmanytimes.Many,manytimes,sheassured

herself.Besides,shewasalreadytooembarrassedaboutthewashingtoadmitanythingelsetoIsabel.

Isabel satwith thebabieswhileEsperanzawent to sweep theplatform.Thecampwasquiet andeventhough it was late in the day, the sun was unrelenting. She retrieved the broom and stepped onto thewoodenfloor.Driedandbrittleonionskinswereeverywhere.Inherentirelife,Esperanzahadneverheldabroominherhand.ButshehadseenHortensiasweepand

shetriedtovisualizethememory.Itcouldn’tpossiblybethathard.Sheputbothhandsnearthemiddleofthebroomstickandmoveditbackandforth.Itswungwildly.Themotionseemedawkwardandthefinedirtonthewoodenplanksliftedintoacloud.OnionjacketsflewintotheairinsteadofgatheringtogetherinaneatpilelikeHortensia’s.Esperanza’selbowsdidnotknowwhattodo.Neitherdidherarms.Shefeltstreamsofperspirationslidingdownherneck.Shestoppedforamomentandstaredatthebroom,asifwillingittobehave.Determined,shetriedagain.Shehadn’tnoticedthatseveraltruckswerealreadyunloadingworkersnearby.Thensheheardit.Firstasmalltitteringandthenlouder.Sheturnedaround.Agroupofwomenwerelaughingather.AndinthemiddleofthegroupwasMarta,pointing.

“¡LaCenicienta!Cinderella!”shelaughed.Burningwithhumiliation,Esperanzadroppedthebroomandranbacktothecabin.Inherroom,shesatontheedgeofthecot.Herfaceflushedagainatthethoughtoftheridicule.Shewas

stillsittingthere,staringatthewall,whenIsabelfoundher.“IsaidIcouldwork.ItoldMamaIcouldhelp.ButIcannotevenwashclothesorsweepafloor.Does

thewholecampknow?”Isabelsatdownonthebednexttoherandpattedherback.“Yes.”Esperanzagroaned.“Iwillneverbeable toshowmyface.”Sheputherhead inherhandsuntil she

heardsomeoneelsecomeintotheroom.EsperanzalookeduptoseeMiguel,holdingabroomandadustpan.Buthewasn’tlaughing.Shelooked

downandbitherlipsoshewouldn’tcryinfrontofhim.Heshutthedoor,thenstoodinfrontofherandsaid,“Howwouldyouknowhowtosweepafloor?The

onlythingthatyoueverlearnedwashowtogiveorders.Thatisnotyourfault.Anza,lookatme.”Shelookedup.“Payattention,”hesaid,hisfaceserious.“Youholdthebroomlikethis.Onehandhereandtheother

here.”Esperanzawatched.“Thenyoupushlikethis.Orpullittowardyoulikethis.Here,youtry,”hesaid,holdingoutthebroom.Slowly,Esperanzagotupand took thebroomfromhim.Hepositionedherhandson thehandle.She

triedtocopyhimbuthermovementsweretoobig.“Smallerstrokes,”saidMiguel,coaching.“Andsweepallinonedirection.”Shedidashesaid.“Now,whenyougetallthedirtintoapile,youholdthebroomdownhere,nearthebottom,andpush

thedirtintothepan.”Esperanzacollectedthedirt.“See,youcandoit.”Miguelraisedhisthickeyebrowsandsmiled.“Someday,youjustmightmakea

verygoodservant.”Isabelgiggled.Esperanzacouldnotyetfindhumorinthesituation.Somberlyshesaid,“Thankyou,Miguel.”Hegrinnedandbowed.“Atyourservice,mireina.”Butthistime,hisvoicewaskind.Sherememberedthathehadgonetolookforworkattherailroad.“Didyougetajob?”Hissmilefaded.Heputhishandsinhispocketsandshruggedhisshoulders.“Itisfrustrating.Icanfix

anyengine.ButtheywillonlyhireMexicanstolaytrackanddigditches,notasmechanics.I’vedecidedtoworkinthefieldsuntilIcanconvincesomeonetogivemeachance.”Esperanzanodded.After he left the room, Isabel said, “He calls youmi reina!Will you tell me about your life as a

queen?”Esperanzasatonthemattressandpattedthespotnexttoher.Isabelsatdown.“Isabel, Iwill tell you all about how I used to live.About parties andprivate school andbeautiful

dresses. Iwill even showyou thebeautiful dollmypapaboughtme, if youwill teachmehow topindiapers,howtowash,and…”Isabelinterruptedher.“Butthatissoeasy!”Esperanzastoodupandcarefullypracticedwiththebroom.“Itisnoteasyforme.”

“Ay,myneckhurts,”saidMamaasshemassaged thebackofherheadwithherhand.“It isnotmyneck.It’smyarmsthataresore,”saidHortensia.

“Itisthesameforeveryone,”saidJosefina.“Whenyoufirststartinthesheds,thebodyrefusestobend,butintime,youwillgetusedtothework.”Everyonehadcomehomethatnighttiredandwithvariousachesandpains.Theygatheredinonecabin

for dinner, so it was crowded and noisy. Josefina warmed a pot of beans and Hortensia made freshtortillas. Juan and Alfonso talked about the fields while Miguel and Isabel played with the babies,making themsquealwith laughter.Mamacookedarroz, andEsperanzawas surprised thatMamaknewjusthow tobrown it first inoilwithonionsandpeppers.Esperanzachopped tomates for a salad andhopednoonewouldmentionthesweeping.Shewasgladthisdaywasover.Herbruiseshadbeentoherpride.Isabel took a fresh tortilla, sprinkled itwith salt, rolled it up like a cigar andwaved it atMiguel.

“HowcomeyouandTíoAlfonsowon’tletmegobehindthecabinwithyou?”“Shhh,”hesaid.“It’sasurprise.”“Whyareyousofullofsecrets?”askedEsperanza.ButneitherAlfonsonorMiguelanswered.Theysimplysmiledwhiletheypreparedtheirplates.Theyatedinner,butbeforetheycouldsliceacantaloupefordessert,AlfonsoandMigueldisappeared,

withinstructionsnottofollowthem.“Whataretheydoing?”demandedIsabel.Hortensiashruggedasifsheknewnothing.Miguelcamebackjustbeforesunset.“SeñoraandEsperanza,wehavesomethingtoshowyou.”Esperanza looked atMama. Itwas obviousMamawas as confused as shewas. They all followed

MigueltowhereAlfonsowaswaiting.Behindthecabinwasanoldovalwashtubwithoneendcutoff.Ithadbeensetonitsside,forminga

littleshrinearoundaplasticstatueofOurLadyofGuadalupe.Someonehadbuiltagrottoofrocksaroundthebaseofthetub.Aroundit,alargeplotofearthhadbeenfencedinbysticksandropeandplantedwiththornystems,eachwithonlyafewbranches.Isabelgasped.“It’sbeautiful.Isthatourstatue?”Josefinanodded.“Buttherosescomefromfaraway.”EsperanzasearchedMiguel’sface,hereyeshopeful.“Papa’s?”“Yes,theseareyourpapa’sroses,”saidMiguel,smilingather.Alfonsohaddug circlesof earth around eachplant,casitas, little houses, thatmademoats for deep

watering.JustlikehehaddoneinAguascalientes.

“Buthow?”Esperanzarememberedtherosegardenasablackenedgraveyard.“Afterthefire,myfatherandIdugdowntotheroots.Manywerestillhealthy.Wecarriedthecuttings

fromAguascalientes.Andthat’swhywehadtokeepthemwet.Wethinktheywillgrow.Intime,wewillseehowmanybloom.”Esperanzabentclosertolookatthestemsrootedinmulch.Theywereleaflessandstubby,butlovingly

planted.Sherememberedthenightbeforethefire,whenshehadlastseentherosesandhadwantedtoaskHortensiatomakerosehiptea.Butshe’dneverhadthechance.Now,iftheybloomedshecoulddrinkthememoriesof the roses thathadknownPapa.She lookedatMiguel,blinkingback tears.“Whichone isyours?”Miguelpointedtoone.“Whichoneismine?”Hesmiledandpointedtotheonethatwasclosesttothecabinwallandalreadyhadamakeshifttrellis

proppedagainstit.“Soyoucanclimb,”hesaid.Mamawalkedupanddown,carefullytouchingeachcutting.ShetookAlfonso’shandsinherownand

kissedhimoneachcheek.ThenshewenttoMiguelanddidthesame.“Muchasgracias,”shesaid.MamalookedatEsperanza.“Didn’tItellyouthatPapa’sheartwouldfinduswhereverwego?”

The nextmorning, Hortensia put a piece of fabric over the window and sent Alfonso next door withMiguel,Juan,andthebabies.Hortensia,Mama,andJosefinabroughtinthebigwashtubsandfilledthemhalffullwithcoldwater.Thentheyheatedpotsofwateronthestoveandwarmedthebaths.Esperanzawasexcitedattheideaofgettingintoatub.Alltheyhaddonesincetheyarrivedwaswashtheirfacesandarmswith coldwater in the sink.Shehadn’t had a real bath since she leftAguascalientes.But itwasSaturdayandtonightwasthejamaica,sotheentirecampwasgettingcleanedup.Bathswerebeingtaken,shirtsironed,andhairwashedandcrimped.Hortensia hadgivenEsperanzaher baths since shewas a baby and theyhad an established routine.

EsperanzastoodnearthetubwithherarmsoutstretchedwhileHortensiaundressedher.Thenshegotinthe tuband triednot towigglewhileHortensiawashedher.She’d tiltherheadback,keepinghereyesclosed,whileHortensiarinsedherhair.Finally,shestoodupandnodded,whichwasHortensia’ssignaltowrapthetowelaroundher.Esperanzawenttooneofthewashtubs,putherhandsouttohersides,andwaited.Josefinalookedat

Hortensiaandraisedhereyebrows.Isabelsaid,“Esperanza,whatareyoudoing?”MamawalkedovertoEsperanzaandsaidsoftly,“I’vebeenthinkingthatyouareoldenoughtobathe

yourself,don’tyouthink?”

EsperanzaquicklydroppedherarmsandrememberedMarta’stauntingvoicesaying,“Noonewillbewaitingonyouhere.”“Yes,Mama,” she said, and for the second time in two days, she felt her face burning as everyone

staredather.Hortensiacameover,putherarmaroundEsperanzaandsaid,“Weareaccustomed todoing thingsa

certainway,aren’twe,Esperanza?ButIguessIamnottoooldtochange.Wewillhelpeachother.IwillunbuttonthebuttonsyoucannotreachandyouwillhelpIsabel,yes?Josefina,weneedmorehotwaterinthesetubs.Ándale,hurry.”AsHortensiahelpedherwithherblouse,Esperanzawhispered,“Thankyou.”IsabelandEsperanzawentfirst,bathinginthetubs,thenbendingtheirheadsovertowashtheirhair.

MamaandJosefinapouredcupsofwaterover themtorinseoff thesoap.Thewomen took turnsgoingbackandforthtothestoveforhotwater.Esperanzalikedbeingwithalloftheminthetinyroom,talkingandlaughing,andrinsingeachother’shair.JosefinaandHortensiatalkedaboutallthegossipinthecamp.Mamasat inherslipandcombedoutIsabel’s tangles.Thewomentooktheir turnsandwhenHortensianeededhotwater,Esperanzarushedtogetitforherbeforeanyoneelsecould.Cleananddressed,withstill-wethair,EsperanzaandIsabelwentoutsidetothewoodentableunderthe

trees. Josefina had given them a burlap bag of almonds that shewanted shelled. Isabel bent over andbrushedherhairinthedryair.“Areyoucomingtothejamaicatonight?”sheasked.Esperanza didn’t answer at first. She had not left the cabin since she had made a fool of herself

yesterday.“Idon’tknow.Maybe.”“Mymamasaiditisbesttogetitoverwithandfacepeople.Andthatiftheyteaseyou,youshouldjust

laugh,”saidIsabel.“Iknow,”saidEsperanza,fluffingherownhairthatwasalreadyalmostdry.Shedumpedthenutsonto

thetableandpickedupanalmondstillinitsflattenedpod.Thesoftandfuzzyoutsidehulllookedliketwohands pressed together, protecting something inside. Esperanza popped it open and found the almondshell.Shesnappedtheedgeoftheshellandprieditapart,thenpulledthemeatfromitsdefensesandateit.“IsupposeMartawillbetheretonight?”“Probably,”saidIsabel.“Andallofherfriends,too.”“HowdoessheknowEnglish?”“Shewas born here andhermother, too.They are citizens,” said Isabel, helping shell the almonds.

“HerfathercamefromSonoraduringtherevolution.TheyhaveneverevenbeentoMexico.There’slotsof kidswho live in our campwho have never been toMexico.My father doesn’t like itwhenMartacomestoourjamaicas,though,becausesheisalwaystalkingtopeopleaboutstriking.Therewasalmostastrikeduringalmondsbutnotenoughpeopleagreed tostopworking.Mymamasays that if therehadbeenastrike,wewouldhavehadtogointotheorchardandshakethetreesourselvesforthesealmonds.”“Thenwe’relucky.Whatisyourmothermakingwiththesenuts?”

“Flandealmendra,”saidIsabel.“Shewillsellslicesatthejamaicatonight.”Esperanza’s mouth watered. Almond flan was one of her favorite sweets. “Then I’ve made my

decision.Iwillcome.”

Theplatformwaslitupwithbiglights.Menfromthecamp,instarchedandpressedshirtsandcowboyhats,satinchairstuningtheirguitarsandviolins.Longrowsoftableswerecoveredinbrighttableclothswherewomensoldtamales,desserts,andthespecialty,AguadeJamaica,HibiscusFlowerWaterpunchmadewiththeredMexicanjamaicabloom.Therewasbingoonwoodentablesandalonglineofchairscirclingthedanceareaforthosewhowantedtowatch.That’swhereMamaandHortensiasat,talkingtootherwomen.Esperanzastayedclosetothem,watchingthegrowingcrowd.“Wheredoall thepeoplecomefrom?”sheasked.Theothernight,shehadheardJuansaythatabout

twohundredpeoplelivedintheircamp,butthereweremanymorethanthatnow.“These fiestas are popular. People come fromother camps,” said Josefina. “And fromBakersfield,

too.”Whenthemusicstarted,everyonecrowdedaroundtheplatform,clappingandsinging.Peoplestarted

dancingintheareaaroundthestage.Childrenraneverywhere,chasingandhiding.Menheldyoungboyson their shoulders, andwomen swaddled their infants, all of them swaying to the sounds of the smallband.Afterawhile,EsperanzaleftMamaandtheothersandwanderedthroughthenoisycrowd,thinkinghow

strangeitwasthatshecouldbeinthemiddleofsomanypeopleandstillfeelsoalone.Shesawagroupof girls who seemed about her age but they were huddled together. More than anything, she wishedMarisolwerehere.Isabelfoundherandpulledonherhand.“Esperanza,comeandsee.”Esperanzaletherselfbeledthroughthecrowd.Someonefromtownhadbroughtalitterofkittens.A

groupofgirlswerecrowdednexttothecardboardbox,cooingandcradlingthem.ItwasclearthatIsabeldesperatelywantedone.Esperanzawhispered toher, “Iwill goaskyourmother.”Shewoveback through thecrowd to find

Josefina,andwhensheagreed,EsperanzapracticallyranbacktothespottotellIsabel.Butwhenshegotthere,abiggercrowdhadgatheredandsomethingelsewasgoingon.Martaandsomeofherfriendsstoodinthebedofatruckthatwasparkednearby,eachofthemholding

uponeofthetinykittens.“This iswhatweare!” sheyelled.“Small,meekanimals.And that ishow they treatusbecausewe

don’tspeakup.Ifwedon’taskforwhatisrightfullyours,wewillnevergetit!Isthishowwewanttolive?”Sheheld thekittenby thebackof theneck,waving ithigh in theair. Ithunglimpinfrontof the

crowd.“Withnodecenthomeandatthemercyofthosebiggerthanus,richerthanus?”Isabeltrembled,hereyesinapanic.“Willshedropit?”Amancalledout,“Maybeallthatcatwantstodoisfeeditsfamily.Maybeitdoesn’tcarewhatallthe

othercatsaredoing.”“Señor, does it not bother you that some of your compadres live better than others?” yelled one of

Marta’sfriends.“Wearegoingtostrikeintwoweeks.Atthepeakofthecotton.Forhigherwagesandbetterhousing!”“Wedon’tpickcottononthisfarm!”yelledanothermanfromtheircamp.“Whatdoesitmatter?”yelledMarta.“Ifweallstopworking,ifalltheMexicansarejuntos, together

…”Shemadeafistandhelditintheair,“…thenmaybeitwillhelpusall!”Heyelledback,“Thatisachancewecannottake.Wejustwanttowork.That’swhywecamehere.Get

outofourcamp!”Acheerroseuparoundhim.PeoplestartedshovingandEsperanzagrabbedIsabel’shandandpulled

heraside.Ayoungmanjumpedintothetruckandstartedtheengine.Martaandtheotherstossedthekittensinto

thefield.Thentheypulledsomeoftheirsupportersintothebackofthetruckwiththemandraisedtheirarms,chanting,“¡Huelga!¡Huelga!Strike!Strike!”

“Whyisshesoangry?”askedEsperanza,asshewalkedbacktothecabinafewhourslaterwithJosefina,Isabel,andthebabies,leavingtheotherstostaylater.Isabelcarriedthesoft,mewingorangekitteninherarms.“Sheandhermothermovearound to findwork, sometimes all over the state,” said Josefina. “They

workwhereverthereissomethingtobeharvested.Thosecamps,themigrantcamps,aretheworst.”“LikewhenwewereinElCentro?”saidIsabel.“Worse,”saidJosefina.“Ourcampisacompanycampandpeoplewhoworkheredon’tleave.Some

livehereformanyyears.Thatiswhywecametothiscountry.Towork.Totakecareofourfamilies.Tobecomecitizens.Weareluckybecauseourcampisbetterthanmost.Therearemanyofuswhodon’twanttoget involved in the strikebecausewecan’t afford to loseour jobs, andweare accustomed tohowthingsareinourlittlecommunity.”“Theywanttostrikeforbetterhouses?”askedEsperanza.“Thatandmoremoneyforthosewhopickcotton,”saidJosefina.“Theyonlygetsevencentsapound

forpickingcotton.Theywanttencentsapound.Itseemslikesuchasmallpricetopay,butinthepast,thegrowerssaidno.Andnow,morepeoplearecomingtothevalleytolookforwork,especiallyfromplaceslikeOklahoma,wherethereislittlework,littlerain,andlittlehope.IftheMexicansstrike,thebigfarms

willsimplyhireothers.Thenwhatwouldwedo?”EsperanzawonderedwhatwouldhappenifMamadidnothaveajob.Wouldtheyhavetogobackto

Mexico?Josefinaputthebabiestobed.ThenshekissedIsabelandEsperanzaontheirforeheadsandsentthem

nextdoor.Isabel and Esperanza lay in their beds listening to the music and the bursts of laughter in the

background. The kitten, after drinking a bowl of milk, curled up in Isabel’s arms. Esperanza tried toimagineconditionsthatweremoreshabbythanthisroomthatwascoveredinnewspapertokeepoutthewind.Couldthingspossiblybeworse?Sleepily,Isabelsaid,“DidyouhavepartiesinMexico?”“Yes,”whisperedEsperanza,keepingherpromisetotellIsabelaboutheroldlife.“Bigparties.Once,

mymama hosted a party for one hundred people.The tablewas setwith lace tablecloths, crystal andchina, and silver candelabras. The servants cooked for aweek…” Esperanza continued, reliving theextravagantmoments, butwas relievedwhen she knew that Isabelwas asleep. For some reason, afterhearingaboutMartaandherfamily,shefeltguiltytalkingabouttherichnessofherlifeinAguascalientes.Esperanza was still awake whenMama came to bed later. A stream of light from the other room

allowedjustenoughbrightnessforhertowatchMamaunbraidherhairandbrushitout.“Didyouliketheparty?”Mamawhispered.“Imissmyfriends,”saidEsperanza.“Iknowitishard.DoyouknowwhatImiss?Imissmydresses.”“Mama!”Esperanzasaid,laughingthatMamawouldadmitsuchathingtoher.“Shhh,”saidMama.“YouwillwakeIsabel.”“Imissmydresses,too,butwedon’tseemtoneedthemhere.”“Thatistrue.Esperanza,doyouknowthatIamsoproudofyou?Forallthatyouarelearning.”Esperanzasnuggledclosetoher.Mamacontinued.“TomorrowwearegoingtoachurchinBakersfield.Afterchurch,wearegoingto

unatienda,calledCholita’s.Josefinasaidshesellseverytypeofsweetroll.AndMexicancandies.”Theywerequiet,listeningtoIsabel’sbreathing.“Inchurch,whatwillyouprayfor,Esperanza?”askedMama.Esperanzasmiled.SheandMamahaddonethismanytimesbeforetheywenttosleep.“Iwill light a candle for Papa’smemory,” she said. “Iwill pray thatMiguelwill find a job at the

railroad.IwillaskOurLadytohelpmetakecareofLupeandPepewhileIsabelisatschool.AndIwillprayforsomewhitecoconutcandywitharedstripeonthetop.”Mamalaughedsoftly.“Butmostofall,IwillpraythatAbuelitawillgetwell.Andthatshewillbeabletogethermoneyfrom

TíoLuis’sbank.Andthatshewillcomesoon.”

MamastrokedEsperanza’shair.“Whatwillyouprayfor,Mama?”“Iwillprayforallthethingsyousaid,Esperanza,andonemorethingbesides.”“What’sthat?”Mamahuggedher.“Iwillprayforyou,Esperanza.Thatyoucanbestrong.Nomatterwhathappens.”

As theywalkedto thebusstop,Isabelreciteda listofconcerns toEsperanza,soundingexactlyasJosefinaandMamahadsoundedearlierthatmorning.“PutPepedownforanapfirst,andwhenhefallsasleep,putLupedown.Otherwisetheywillplayand

nevergotosleep.AndLupewillnoteatbananas…”“Iknow,”saidEsperanza,repositioningPepeonherhip.IsabelhandedherLupeandclimbedthestepsoftheyellowbus.Shefoundaseatandwavedfromthe

window.Esperanzawonderedwhowasmoreworried,sheorIsabel?Esperanzastruggledtocarrybothbabiesbacktothecabin.ThankgoodnessIsabelhadalreadyhelped

herfeedanddressthem.Shesettledthemonablanketonthefloorwithsometincupsandwoodblocks,thenputthebeansintoabigpotonthestove.Hortensiahadpreparedthemearlierwithabigonionandafewclovesofgarlicand instructedEsperanza tostir themoccasionallyand let themcookon lowheat,addingmorewater throughout the day. She stirred the beans andwatchedLupe andPepe play. IwishAbuelitacouldseeme,shethought.Shewouldbeproud.Later,Esperanza lookedforsomething to feed thebabies for lunch.Abowlof ripeplumssaton the

table.Theyshouldbesoftenoughtoeat,shethought.Shetookseveral,removedthepitandmashedthemwitha fork.Bothbabies loved them, reaching formoreaftereachspoonful.Esperanzamashedanotherthreeplumsandtheygobbledeverybite.Sheletthemhavetheirfilluntiltheystartedfussingandreachingfortheirbottlesofmilk.“Enoughof lunch,”saidEsperanza,cleaning their facesandgratefully thinking that itwouldsoonbe

naptime.Sheslowlychangedtheirwetdiapers,rememberingallofJosefina’sandIsabel’sinstructions.SheputPepedownfirstwithhisbottle,asdirected,andwhenhefellasleep,sheputLupenexttohim.Esperanzalaydown,too,wonderingwhyshewassotired,andshedozed.She woke up to Lupe’s whimpering and an atrocious smell. Brown liquid leaked from her diaper.

Esperanzapickedherupandcarriedheroutoftheroomsoshewouldn’twakePepe.Shechangedherintoadrydiaperandrolledthesoiledoneintoaballandputitbythedooruntilshecouldtakeittothetoilets.WhensheputLupebackdown,Pepewassittingupinbed,inthesamecondition.Sherepeatedthediaperchanging.Withbothbabiesclean,shelefttheminthebedanddashedtothetoiletstorinsethediapers.Thensheranbacktothecabin.Adifferentsmellgreetedher.Thebeans!Shehadforgottentoaddmorewater.Whenshecheckedthe

pot,theyappearedtobescorchedonlyonthebottom,soshepouredinwaterandstirredthem.Thebabiescriedandneverwentbacktosleep.Bothdirtiedtheirdiapersagain.Thewaddedpileby

thedoorgrew.Theymustbeill,worriedEsperanza.Didtheyhavethefluorwasitsomethingtheyate?No one else had been sick recently.What had they eaten today?Only theirmilk and the plums. “The

plums,”shegroaned.Theymusthavebeentoohardontheirstomachs.WhatdidHortensiagiveherwhenshewasachildandwassick?Shetriedtoremember.Ricewater!

Buthowdidshemakeit?Esperanzaputapotonthestoveandaddedacupofrice.Shewasn’tsurehowmuchwater to add but she remembered that when rice didn’t come out soft Hortensia always said itneededmorewater.Sheaddedplentyandboiledtherice.Thenshepouredoffthewaterandletitcool.She sat on the floorwith the babies and fed them teaspoons of ricewater all afternoon, counting theminutesuntilIsabelwalkedthroughthedoor.“Whathappened?”saidIsabelwhenshearrivedandsawthepileofdiapersbythedoor.“Theyweresickfromtheplums,”saidEsperanza,noddingtowardtheplatestillonthetablewhereshe

hadmashedthem.“Oh,Esperanza, they are too young for rawplums!Everyone knows that plumsmust be cooked for

babies,”saidIsabel.“Well,Iamnoteveryone!”yelledEsperanza.Shedroppedherheadandputherhandsoverherface.

Pepecrawledintoherlap,makinghappygurglingnoises.ShelookedatIsabel,alreadysorryforscreamingather.“Ididn’tmeantoyell.Itwasalongday.Igave

themsomericewaterandtheyseemtobefinenow.”Soundingsurprised,Isabelsaid,“Thatwasexactlytherightthingtodo!”Esperanzanoddedandletoutalongsighofrelief.Thatnight,noonementionedthenumberofrinsedandwrungdiapersinthewashtuboutsidethedoor.

Orthebeansthatwereobviouslyburntorthepanofriceinthesink.AndnoonequestionedEsperanzawhenshesaidthatshewasexhaustedandwantedtogotobedearly.

Thegrapeshadtobefinishedbeforethefirstfallrainsandhadtobepickedrápido,quickly,sonowtherewerenoSaturdaysorSundaysintheweek,justworkdays.Thetemperaturewasstilloverninetyeachday,soassoonas Isabel’sbus left forschool,Esperanza took thebabiesback to thecabin.Shefixed theirbottlesofmilkandletthemplaywhileshemadethebeds.ThenshefollowedHortensia’sinstructionsforstartingdinnerbeforeturningtothelaundry.Shewasamazedatthehot,dryair.Often,bythetimeshehadfilledtheclotheslinesthatwerestrungbetweenthetrees,shehadonlyminutestorestbeforethevalleysundriedtheclothescrispandtheywerereadytofold.IreneandMelinacameoverafterlunchandEsperanzaspreadablanketintheshade.Esperanzaliked

Melina’s company. In someways, shewas a young girl, sometimes playingwith Isabel andSilvia, ortellingEsperanzagossipasiftheywereschoolfriends.Inotherways,shewasgrownup,withanursingbabyandahusband,andpreferringtocrochetwiththeolderwomenintheevenings.“Doyoucrochet?”Melinaasked.

“Iknowa little, butonly a few stitches,” saidEsperanza, rememberingAbuelita’sblanketof zigzagrowsthatshehadbeentoopreoccupiedtounpack.Melinalaidhersleepingbabygirlontheblanketandpickedupherneedlework.Irenecutapartafifty-

poundfloursackthatwasprintedwithtinyflowers,touseasfabricfordresses.EsperanzatickledPepeandLupeandtheylaughed.“Theyadoreyou,”saidMelina.“TheycriedyesterdaywhenIwatchedthemforthefewminutesittook

youtosweeptheplatform.”It was true. Both babies smiled when Esperanza walked into the room, always reaching for her,

especiallyPepe.Lupewasgood-naturedandlessdemanding,butEsperanzalearnedtowatchherclosely,assheoftentriedtowanderaway.Ifsheturnedherbackforaminute,EsperanzafoundherselffranticallysearchingforLupe.EsperanzarubbedLupe’sandPepe’sbacks,hopingtheywouldgotosleepsoon,buttheywererestless

andwouldn’t settle even though they had their bottles. The afternoon sky looked peculiar, tingedwithyellow,andtherewassomuchstaticintheairthatthebabies’softhairstuckout.“Todayisthedayofthestrike,”saidMelina.“Iheardthattheyweregoingtowalkoutthismorning.”“Everyonewas talkingabout it lastnightat the table,”saidEsperanza.“Alfonsosaidhe isglad that

everyonefromourcampagreedtocontinueworking.Heisproudthatwewon’tstrike.”Irene continued working on the flour sack and shaking her head. “So many Mexicans have the

revolutionstillintheirblood.Iamsympathetictothosewhoarestriking,andIamsympathetictothoseofuswhowanttokeepworking.Weallwantthesamethings.Toeatandfeedourchildren.”Esperanzanodded.Shehaddecided that if sheandMamawere togetAbuelitahere, theycouldnot

affordtostrike.Notnow.Notwhentheysodesperatelyneededmoneyandaroofovertheirheads.Sheworriedaboutwhatmanyweresaying:Iftheydidn’twork,thepeoplefromOklahomawouldhappilytaketheirjobs.Thenwhatwouldtheydo?AsuddenblastofhotwindtookthefloursackfromIrene’shandandcarriedittothefields.Thebabiessatup,frightened.Anotherhotblasthitthem,butkepton,andwhentheedgesoftheblanket

blewup,LupereachedforEsperanza,whining.Irenestoodupandpointedtotheeast.Theskywasdarkeningwithambercloudsandseveralbrown

tumbleweedsbouncedtowardthem.Aroilofbrownloomedoverthemountains.“¡Unatormentadepolvo!Duststorm!”saidIrene.“Hurry!”Theypickedupthebabiesandraninside.Ireneclosedthedoorandbeganshuttingthewindows.“What’shappening?”askedEsperanza.“Aduststorm,likenothingyouhaveseenbefore,”saidMelina.“Theyareawful.”“WhataboutMamaandHortensiaandtheothers?AlfonsoandMiguel…theyareinthefields.”“Theywillsendtrucksforthem,”saidIrene.

Esperanza looked out the window. Thousands of acres of tilled soil were becoming food for latormentaandtheskywasturningintoabrownswirlingfog.Already,shecouldnotseethetreesjustafewyardsaway.Thenthesoundbegan.Softlyatfirst,likeagentlerain,thenharderasthewindblastedthetinygrainsofsandagainstthewindowsandmetalroofs.Thedirtshoweredagainstthecabin,pittingeverythinginitspath.“Getawayfromthewindow,”warnedIrene.“Thedirtandwindcanbreaktheglass.”Thefinerdustseepedinsideandtheytriedtosealthedoorbystuffingragsunderit.Esperanzacouldn’t

stop thinking about the others. Isabelwas at school. The teacherswould take care of her. ButMama,Hortensia, and Josefinawere in the open shed. She hoped the truckswould bring them soon.And thefields.Shecouldonlyimagine.AlfonsoandJuanandMiguel,couldtheybreathe?Irene,Melina,andEsperanzasatonthemattressinthefrontroomtryingtocalmthebabies.Therewas

norelieffromtheheatintheclosedroomandsoontheairwashazy.Irenedampenedsometowelssotheycouldwipethebabies’andtheirownfaces.Whentheytalkedtooneanother,theytastedtheearth.“Howlongdoesitlast?”askedEsperanza.“Sometimeshours,”saidIrene.“Thewindwillstopfirst.Andthenthedust.”Esperanzaheardameowingfromthedoor.Sherantoitand,pushinghardagainstthewind,openedita

crack.Isabel’skitten,Chiquita,dartedin.Therewasnotraceofherorangefur.Thecatwaspowderedbrown.Thebabiesfinallyfellasleep,drowsyfromtheheavyair.Irenewasright.Thewindstopped,butthe

duststillswirledas ifpropelledby itsownpower. IreneandMelina leftwithMelina’sbaby,coveredbeneathablanket,andrushedtotheircabin.Esperanzawaited,nervouslypacingtheroomandworryingabouttheothers.Theschoolbuscamefirst.Isabelburstintothecabin,crying,“¡Migata,Chiquita!”Esperanzahuggedher.“Sheisfinebutverydirtyandhidingunderthebed.Areyouallright?”“Yes,” said Isabel. “Wegot to sit in the cafeteria all afternoon andplaygameswith erasers onour

heads.ButIwasworriedaboutChiquita.”The door opened again and Mama walked into the cabin, her skin covered with an eerie brown

chalkiness,andherhairdusted,likethecat’sfur.“Oh,Mama!”“Iamfine,mija,”shesaid,coughing.HortensiaandJosefinafollowedandIsabelputherhandsonhercheeksinworriedsurprise.“You…

youlooklikeraccoons,”shesaid.Alloftheirfaceshadcirclesofpinkaroundtheireyeswheretheyhadsquintedagainstthedust.“Thetruckscouldnotfindtheirwaytotheshedsoallwecoulddowassitandwait,”saidHortensia.

“Wehidbehindsomecratesandburiedourheadsbutitdidnothelpmuch.”

Josefina took the babies next door andMama andHortensia beganwashing their arms in the sink,makingmuddywater.Mamacontinuedtocough.“WhataboutAlfonsoandJuanandMiguel?”askedEsperanza.“Ifthetruckscouldnotgettous,theycouldnotgettothefields.Wewillhavetowait,”saidHortensia,

exchangingaworriedlookwithMama.A few hours later, Juan, Alfonso, and Miguel arrived, their clothes stiff and brown, all of them

coughingandclearing their throatseveryfewminutes.Their facesweresoencrustedwithdrydirt thattheyremindedEsperanzaofcrackedpottery.Theytookturnsrinsinginthesink, thepileofbrownclothesgrowinginthebasket.WhenEsperanza

lookedoutside,shecouldalmostseethetrees,butthedustwasstillthickintheair.MamahadacoughingspasmandHortensiatriedtosettleherwithaglassofwater.Whentheadultsallfinallysatdownatthetable,Esperanzaasked,“Whathappenedwiththestrike?”“Therewasnostrike,”saidAlfonso.“Weheardthattheywereallready.Andthattherewerehundreds

ofthem.Theyhadtheirsigns.Butthestormhit.Thecottonisnexttothegroundandthefieldsarenowburiedindirtandcannotbepicked.Tomorrow,theywillhavenojobsbecauseofanactofGod.”“Whatwillwedotomorrow?”askedEsperanza.“Thegrapesarehigherofftheground,”saidAlfonso.“Thetrunksofthevinesarecoveredbutthefruit

wasnotaffected.Thegrapesarereadyandcannotwait.Somañana,wewillgobacktowork.”Thenextmorning,theskywasblueandcalmandthedusthadlefttheair.Ithadsettledontheworld,

coveringeverything likeasuedeblanket.Everyonewho livedat thecampshookout thepowderysoil,wentbacktowork,andcamehomeagain,asifnothinghadhappened.In aweek, they finished cutting the grapes. Thenwhile they finished packing the grapes, theywere

alreadytalkingaboutpreparingforpotatoes.Thecamproutinerepeateditselfliketheregimentedrowsinthe fields.Very little seemed to change, thought Esperanza, except the needs of the earth.AndMama.Mamahadchanged.Becauseafterthestorm,sheneverstoppedcoughing.

“Mama,you’resopale!”saidEsperanza.Mamacarefullywalked into thecabinas if shewere trying tokeepherbalanceand slumped intoa

chairinthekitchen.Hortensiawasbustlingbehindher.“Iamgoingtomakeherchickensoupwithlotsofgarlic.Shehadto

sitdownatworktodaybecauseshefeltfaint.Butitisnowonderbecausesheisnoteating.Lookather,shehaslostweight.Shehasnotbeenherselfsincethatstormandthatwasamonthago.Ithinksheshouldgotothedoctor.”“Mama,listentoher,”pleadedEsperanza.

Mamalookedatherweakly,“Iamfine.Justtired.I’mnotusedtothework.AndI’vetoldyou,doctorsareveryexpensive.”“IreneandMelinaare comingover afterdinner to crochet,” saidEsperanza.She thought thatwould

cheerMama.“You sit with them,” saidMama. “I’m going to lie down until the soup is ready because I have a

headache.Thenafterdinner,I’llgostraighttobedandgetagoodrest.I’llbefine.”Shecoughed,gotup,andslowlywalkedfromtheroom.HortensialookedatEsperanza,shakingherhead.Afewhourslater,EsperanzastoodoverMama.“Yoursoupisready,Mama.”But she didn’tmove. “Mama, dinner,” saidEsperanza, reaching for her arm and gently shaking her.

Mama’sarmwasburning,hercheekswereflushedred,andshewasn’twaking.Esperanzafeltpanicsqueezingherandshescreamed,“Hortensia!”

Thedoctorcame.HewasAmerican,lightandblond,buthespokeperfectSpanish.“Helooksveryyoungtobeadoctor,”saidHortensia.“Hehascometothecampbeforeandpeopletrusthim,”saidIrene.“Andtherearenotmanydoctors

whowillcomeouthere.”Alfonso,Juan,andMiguelsatonthefrontsteps,waiting.Isabelsatonthemattress,hereyesworried.

Esperanzacouldnotsitstill.Shepacednearthebedroomdoor,tryingtohearwhatwasgoingoninside.Whenthedoctorfinallycameout,helookedgrim.Hewalkedovertothetablewhereallthewomen

sat.Esperanzafollowedhim.Thedoctorsignaledforthemenandwaiteduntileveryonewasinside.“ShehasValleyFever.”“Whatdoesthatmean?”askedEsperanza.“It’sadiseaseofthelungsthatiscausedbydustspores.Sometimes,whenpeoplemovetothisareaand

aren’tusedtotheairhere,thedustsporesgetintotheirlungsandcauseaninfection.”“Butwewereallintheduststorm,”saidAlfonso.“Whenyouliveinthisvalley,everyoneinhalesthedustsporesatonetimeoranother.Mostofthetime,

thebodycanovercometheinfection.Somepeoplewillhavenosymptomsatall.Somewillfeelliketheyhavethefluforafewdays.Andothers,forwhateverreason,cannotfighttheinfectionandgetverysick.”“Howsick?”askedHortensia.Esperanzasatdown.“Shemayhaveafeveronandoffforweeksbutyoumusttrytokeepitdown.Shewillcoughandhave

headachesandjointaches.Shemightgetarash.”

“Canwecatchitfromher?Thebabies?”askedJosefina.“No,”saidthedoctor.“Itisn’tcontagious.Andthebabiesandyoungchildrenhaveprobablyhadamild

formofitalready,withoutyouevenknowing.Oncethebodyfightsofftheinfection,itdoesn’tgetitagain.For thosewho live heremost of their lives, they are naturally immunized. It is hardest on adultswhomovehereandarenotaccustomedtotheagriculturaldust.”“Howlonguntilsheiswell?”askedEsperanza.Thedoctor’sfacelookedtired.Heranhishandthroughhisshortblondhair.“Therearesomemedicinesshecantake,buteventhen,ifshesurvives,itmighttakesixmonthsforher

togetherfullstrengthback.”EsperanzafeltAlfonsobehindher,puttinghishandsonhershoulders.Shefelttheblooddrainfromher

face.ShewantedtotellthedoctorthatshecouldnotloseMama,too.ThatshehadalreadylostPapaandthatAbuelitawastoofaraway.Hervoicestrangledwithfear.Allshecoulddowaswhisperthedoctor’suncertainwords,“Ifshesurvives.”

EsperanzaalmostneverleftMama’sside.Shespongedherwithcoolwaterandfedherteaspoonsofbroththroughouttheday.Miguelofferedtotakeoverthesweepingjobforher,butEsperanzawouldn’tlethim.IreneandMelinaarrivedeachmorning,tocheckonMamaandtotakethebabies.AlfonsoandJuanputupextralayersofnewspaperandcardboardinthebedroomtokeepouttheNovemberchillandIsabeldrew pictures to hang on thewalls because she did not think the newspaper looked pretty enough forMama.The doctor came back a fewweeks laterwithmoremedicine. “She is not gettingworse,” he said,

shakinghishead.“Butsheisnotgettingbetter,either.”Mamadrifted in andout of fitful sleep and sometimes she calledout forAbuelita.Esperanza could

barelysitstillandoftenpacedaroundthesmallroom.Onemorning,Mamasaidweakly,“Esperanza…”Esperanzarantoherandtookherhand.“Abuelita’sblanket…”shewhispered.Esperanzapulledhervalisefromunderthebed.Shehadnotopeneditsincebeforetheduststormand

sawthatthefinebrownpowderhadevenfounditswaydeepinside.AsithadfounditswayintoMama’slungs.SheliftedoutthecrochetingthatAbuelitahadstartedthenightPapadied.Itseemedlikealifetimeago.

Haditonlybeenafewmonths?Shestretchedoutthezigzagrows.TheyreachedfromonesideofMama’sbedtotheother,butwereonlyafewhandswide,lookingmorelikealongscarfthanthebeginningsofablanket.EsperanzacouldseeAbuelita’shairswovenin,sothatallherloveandgoodwisheswouldgowiththemforever.Sheheldthecrochetingtoherfaceandcouldstillsmellthesmokefromthefire.Andthefaintestscentofpeppermint.EsperanzalookedatMama,breathinguneasily,hereyesclosed.ItwasclearsheneededAbuelita.They

bothneededher.ButwhatwasEsperanzatodo?ShepickedupMama’slimphandandkissedit.ThenshehandedthestripofzigzagrowstoMama,whoclutchedittoherchest.WhathadAbuelitatoldherwhenshe’dgivenherthebundleofcrocheting?Andthensheremembered.

Shehadsaid,“Finishthisforme,Esperanza…andpromisemeyou’lltakecareofMama.”AfterMamafellasleep,EsperanzapickeduptheneedleworkandbeganwhereAbuelitahadleftoff.

Tenstitchesuptothetopofthemountain.Addonestitch.Ninestitchesdowntothebottomofthevalley,skipone.Herfingersweremorenimblenowandherstitchesweremoreeven.Themountainsandvalleysintheblanketwereeasy.Butassoonasshereachedamountain,shewasheadedbackdownintoavalleyagain.Wouldsheeverescapethisvalleyshewaslivingin?ThisvalleyofMamabeingsick?WhatelsehadAbuelitasaid?Aftershehadlivedmanymountainsandvalleystheywouldbetogether

again.Shebentoverherwork,intent,andwhenherhairfellintoherlap,shepickeditupandwoveitintotheblanket.Shecriedwhenshethoughtofthewishesthatwouldgointotheblanketforever.BecauseshewaswishingthatMamawouldnotdie.Theblanketgrewlonger.AndMamagrewmorepale.Womeninthecampbroughtherextraskeinsof

yarn and Esperanza didn’t care that they didn’t match. Each night when she went to bed, she put thegrowingblanketbackoverMama,coveringherinhopefulcolor.Lately, it seemedEsperanzacouldnot interestMama inanything.“Please,Mama,”shebegged,“you

musteatmoresoup.PleaseMama,youmustdrinkmorejuice.Mama,letmecombyourhair.Itwillmakeyoufeelbetter.”ButMamawaslistlessandEsperanzaoftenfoundherweepinginsilence.Itwasasifafterallherhard

workingettingthemthere,herstronganddeterminedmotherhadgivenup.

ThefieldsfrostedoverandMamabegantohavetroublebreathing.Thedoctorcameagain,withworsenews. “She shouldbe in thehospital.She’sveryweakbutmore than that, she isdepressedandneedsnursingaround theclock if she is toget stronger. It isacountyhospital soyouwouldnothave topay,exceptfordoctorbillsandmedicines.”Esperanzashookherheadno.“Thehospitaliswherepeoplegotodie.”Shebegantocry.Isabelrantohercrying,too.Hortensiawalkedoverandfoldedthembothintoherarms.“No,no,sheisgoingtothehospitaltoget

better.”Hortensia wrapped Mama in blankets and Alfonso drove them to Kern General Hospital in

Bakersfield.ThenurseswouldletEsperanzastaywithMamaonlyafewminutes.AndwhenEsperanzakissedhergood-bye,Mamadidn’tsayaword,butjustshuthereyesanddriftedofftosleep.Ridinghomein the truck thatevening,Esperanzastaredstraight into thealleyof lightmadefromthe

truck’sheadlamps,feelingasifshewereinatrance.“Hortensia,whatdidthedoctormeanwhenhesaidthatMamawasdepressed?”“Inonlyafewmonths,shehaslostherhusband,herhome,hermoney.Andsheisseparatedfromher

mother.Itisalotofstrainonherbodytocopewithsomanyemotionsinsuchashorttime.Sometimessadnessandworrycanmakeapersonsicker.Yourmotherwasverystrongthroughyourfather’sdeathandher journey here. For you.Butwhen she got sick, everything became toomuch for her. Think of howhelplessshemustfeel.”Hortensiatookoutherhandkerchiefandblewhernose,tooupsettocontinue.EsperanzafeltlikeshehadfailedMamainsomewayandwantedtomakeituptoher.Mamahadbeen

strong forher.Now itwasher turn tobe strong forMama.Shemust showher that shedidn’tneed toworryanymore.Buthow?“Abuelita.ImustwritetoAbuelita.”

Hortensiashookherhead.“I’msureyourunclesarestillwatchingeverythingthatgoesinandoutoftheconventandprobablythepostoffice,too.ButmaybewecanfindsomeonegoingtoAguascalienteswhocancarryaletter.”“Ihavetodosomething,”saidEsperanza,holdingbacktears.HortensiaputherarmaroundEsperanza.

“Don’tworry,” she said. “Thedoctors andnursesknowwhat sheneeds andwewill take careof oneanother.”Esperanzadidn’tsaywhatshereallythought,thatwhatMamareallyneededwasAbuelita.Becauseif

sadnesswasmakingMama sicker, thenmaybe somehappinesswouldmakeherbetter.She just had tofigureoutawaytogetherhere.Whenshegotbacktocamp,shewentbehindthecabintoprayinfrontofthewashtubgrotto.Someone

had knit a shawl and draped it over Our Lady’s shoulders and the sweetness of the gesture madeEsperanzacry. “Please,” she said throughher tears. “IpromisedAbuelita Iwould takecareofMama.ShowmehowIcanhelpher.”

Thenextday,EsperanzapulledaheavyshawlaroundhershouldersandwaitedforMigueltocomehomefromthefields.Shepacedintheareawherethetrucksunloaded,andwrappedthewooltighteragainsttheearlywintercold.Shehadbeenthinkingalldayaboutwhattodo.EversinceMamahadfirstbecomesickoveramonthago,theyhadnomoneycomingin.Thedoctor’sbillsandmedicineshadusedupmostofwhatthey’dsaved.Nowthereweremorebills.AlfonsoandHortensiaofferedtohelpbuttheyhaddonesomuchalreadyandtheydidnothavemuchtospare.Besides,shecouldnotaccepttheircharityforever.Abuelita’sanklewasprobablyhealedbynow,butifshehadn’tbeenabletogethermoneyoutofTío

Luis’sbank,thenshewouldhavenomoneywithwhichtotravel.IfEsperanzacouldsomehowgetmoneytoAbuelita,thenmaybeshecouldcomesooner.WhenMigueljumpedoffoneofthetrucks,shecalledtohim.“WhathaveIdonetodeservethishonor,mireina?”hesaid,smilingandwalkingtowardher.“Please,Miguel,noteasing.Ineedhelp.IneedtoworksoIcanbringAbuelitatoMama.”HewasquietandEsperanzacouldtellhewasthinking.“Butwhatcouldyoudo?Andwhowouldtake

careofthebabies?”“IcouldworkinthefieldsorintheshedsandMelinaandIrenehavealreadyofferedtowatchPepeand

Lupe.”“It’sonlymeninthefieldsrightnow,andyou’renotoldenoughtoworkinthesheds.”“Iamtall.I’llwearmyhairup.Theywon’tknow.”“The problem is that it’s thewrong time of year. They aren’t packing anything right now.Not until

asparagus in the spring.Mymotherand Josefinaaregoing tocutpotatoeyes for thenext threeweeks.

Maybeyoucangowiththem?”“Butitisjustthreeweeks,”saidEsperanza.“Ineedmoreworkthanthat!”“Anza,ifyou’regoodatcuttingpotatoeyes,theywillhireyoutotiegrapes.Ifyouaregoodattying

grapes,theywillhireyouforasparagus.That’showitworks.Ifyou’regoodatonething,thentheyhireyouforanother.”Shenodded.“Canyoutellmeonemorething,Miguel?”“Claro.Certainly.”“Whatarepotatoeyes?”

EsperanzahuddledwithJosefina,Hortensia,andasmallgroupofwomenwaitingforthemorningtrucktotakethemtothesheds.Athicktulegroundfogthathuggedtheearthsettledinthevalley,surroundingthem,asiftheystoodwithinadeepgraycloud.Therewasnowind,onlysilenceandpenetratingcold.Esperanzabundledinalltheclothingthatshecouldputon,oldwoolpants,asweater,araggedjacket,

awool cap, and thick gloves over thin gloves, all borrowed from friends in the camp.Hortensia hadshownherhowtoheatabrickintheovenandbundleitinnewspaper,andshehuggedittoherbodytokeepwarmastheyrodeonthetruck.Since thedrivercouldonlyseeafewyardsahead, the truckrumbledslowlyonthedirt roads.They

passedmilesofnakedgrapevines,strippedoftheirharvestandbereftoftheirleaves.Fadingintothemist,thebrownandtwistedtrunkslookedfrigidandlonely.The truck stopped at the big packing shed. It was really one long building with different open-air

sections,aslongassixtraincars.Therailroadtracksranalongoneside,anddocksfortrucksranalongthe other. Esperanza had heardMama and the others talk about the sheds. How they were busy withpeople;womenstandingatlongtables,packingthefruit;truckscomingandgoingwiththeirloadsfreshfromthefields;andworkersstockingthetraincarsthatwouldlaterbehookedtoalocomotivetotakethefruitallovertheUnitedStates.Butcuttingpotatoeyeswasdifferent.Sincenothingwasbeingpacked,therewasn’ttheusualactivity.

Onlytwentyorsowomengatheredinthecavernousshed,sittinginacircleonupturnedcrates,protectedfromthewindbyonlyafewstacksofemptyboxes.TheMexicansupervisortooktheirnames.Withalltheclothingtheywerewearing,hebarelylookedat

their faces. Josefina had toldEsperanza that if shewas a goodworker, the bosseswould not concernthemselveswithherage,sosheknewshewouldhavetoworkhard.Esperanza copied everything that Hortensia and Josefina did. When the women put the hot bricks

between their feet to keep themwarmwhile theyworked, so did she.When they took off their outerglovesandworkedinthincottonones,shedidthesame.Everyonehadametalbinsittingbehindthem.

Thefield-workersbroughtcoldpotatoesandfilleduptheirbins.Hortensiatookapotatoandthen,withasharpknife,shecutitintochunksaroundthedimples.Shetappedherknifeononeofthedimples.“Thatisaneye,”shewhisperedtoEsperanza.“Leavetwoeyesineverypiecesotherewillbetwochancesforittotakeroot.”Thenshedroppedthechunksintoaburlapsack.Whenthesackwasfull,thefield-workerstookitaway.“Wheredotheytakethem?”sheaskedHortensia.“Tothefields.Theyplanttheeyepiecesandthenthepotatoesgrow.”Esperanzapickedupaknife.Nowsheknewwherepotatoescamefrom.Thewomenbeganchatting.Somekneweachotherfromcamp.AndoneofthemwasMarta’saunt.“Isthereanymoretalkofstriking?”askedJosefina.“Thingsarequietnow,buttheyarestillorganizing,”saidMarta’saunt.“Thereistalkofstrikinginthe

springwhenitistimetopick.Weareafraidtherewillbeproblems.Iftheyrefusetowork,theywilllosetheircabinsinthemigrantcamps.Andthenwherewilltheylive?Orworse,theywillallbesentbacktoMexico.”“Howcantheysendallofthemback?”askedHortensia.“Repatriation,”saidMarta’saunt.“LaMigra—theimmigrationauthorities—rounduppeoplewho

causeproblemsandcheck theirpapers. If theyarenot inorder,or if theydonothappen tohave theirpaperswiththem,theimmigrationofficialssendthembacktoMexico.Wehaveheardthattheyhavesentpeoplewhosefamilieshavelivedhereforgenerations,thosewhoarecitizensandhaveneverevenbeentoMexico.”Esperanza remembered the train at the border and the people being herded on to it. She had been

thankfulforthepapersthatAbuelita’ssistershadarranged.Marta’sauntsaid,“ThereisalsosometalkaboutharmingMexicanswhocontinuetowork.”Theotherwomen sitting around the circlepretended to concentrateon their potatoes, butEsperanza

noticedworriedglancesandraisedeyebrows.ThenHortensia cleared her throat and said, “Are you saying that ifwe continue towork during the

spring,yournieceandherfriendsmightharmus?”“We are praying that does not happen.My husband sayswewill not join them.We have toomany

mouths to feed.Andhehas toldMarta shecannot staywithus.Wecan’t riskbeingasked to leave thecamporlosingourjobsbecauseofourniece.”Headsnodded in sympathy and the circlewas silent, except for the soundsof theknives cutting the

crisppotatoes.“Is anyone going toMexico for LaNavidad?” asked another woman, wisely changing the subject.

Esperanza kept cutting the potato eyes but listened carefully, hoping someone would be going toAguascalientesforChristmas.Butnooneseemedtobetravelinganywherenearthere.A worker refilled Esperanza’s metal bin with another load of cold potatoes. The rumbling noise

broughther thoughtsback towhatMarta’s aunthad said. If itwas true that the strikerswould threatenpeoplewhokeptworking,theymighttryandstopher,too.EsperanzathoughtofMamainthehospitalandAbuelitainMexicoandhowmuchdependedonherbeingabletowork.Ifshewasluckyenoughtohaveajobinthespring,noonewasgoingtogetinherway.

AfewnightsbeforeChristmas,EsperanzahelpedIsabelmakeayarndollforSilviawhiletheotherswenttoacampmeeting.EversinceEsperanzahadtaughtIsabelhowtomakethedolls,itseemedtherewasanewoneborneachday,andmonasofeverycolornowsatinalineontheirpillows.“Silviawillbesosurprised,”saidIsabel.“Shehasneverhadadollbefore.”“We’llmakesomeclothesforit,too,”saidEsperanza.“WhatwasChristmaslikeatElRanchodelasRosas?”IsabelnevertiredofEsperanza’sstoriesabout

herpreviouslife.Esperanzastaredupattheceiling,searchinghermemories.“MamadecoratedwithAdventwreathsand

candles.Papasetupthenativityonabedofmossinthefronthall.AndHortensiacookedfordays.Therewere empanadas filled with meat and sweet raisin tamales. You would have loved how Abuelitadecoratedhergifts.Sheuseddriedgrapevinesand flowers, insteadof ribbons.OnChristmasEve, thehousewas always filledwith laughter and people calling out, ‘FelizNavidad.’ Later,wewent to thecatedralandsatwithhundredsofpeopleandheldcandlesduringmidnightmass.Thenwecamehomeinthemiddleofthenight,stillsmellingofincensefromthechurch,anddrankwarmatoledechocolate,andopenedourgifts.”Isabelsuckedinherbreathandgushed,“Whatkindofgifts?”“I… I can’t remember,” said Esperanza, braiding the yarn doll’s legs. “All I remember is being

happy.” Then she looked around the room as if seeing it for the first time.One of the table legswasunevenandhadtobeproppedbyapieceofwoodso itwouldn’twiggle.Thewallswerepatchedandpeeling.The floorwaswoodplank and splintery andnomatter howmuch she swept, it never lookedclean. The disheswere chipped and the blankets frayed and no amount of beating could remove theirmusty smell.Herother life seemed likea story shehad read inabooka long timeago,un cuentodehadas,afairytale.Shecouldseetheillustrationsinhermind:theSierraMadre,ElRanchodelasRosas,andacarefreeyounggirlrunningthroughthevineyard.Butnow,sittinginthiscabin,thestoryseemedasifitwereaboutsomeothergirl,someoneEsperanzadidn’tknowanymore.“WhatdoyouwantforChristmasthisyear?”askedIsabel.“IwantMamatogetwell.Iwantmorework.And…”Shestaredatherhandsandtookadeepbreath.

Afterthreeweeksofpotatoeyes,theyweredriedandcrackedfromthestarchthathadsoakedthroughhergloves.“…Iwantsofthands.Whatdoyouwant,Isabel?”

Isabellookedatherwithherbigdoeeyesandsaid,“That’seasy.Iwantanything!”Esperanzanoddedandsmiled.Admiring thecompleteddoll, shehanded it to Isabel,whoseeyes,as

usual,wereexcited.Theywent to bed, Isabel in her cot, andEsperanza in the bed that she andMamahad slept in. She

turnedtowardthewall,yearningfortheholidaysofherpast,andrepeatedwhatwasbecominganightlyritualofsilenttears.Shedidn’tthinkanyoneeverknewthatshecriedherselftosleep,untilshefeltIsabelpattingherback.“Esperanza,don’tcryagain.Wewillsleepwithyou,ifyouwant.”We?SheturnedtowardIsabel,whowasholdingthefamilyofyarndolls.Esperanza couldn’t help but smile and lift the covers. Isabel slid in beside her, arranging the dolls

betweenthem.Esperanzastaredintothedark.Isabelhadnothing,butshealsohadeverything.Esperanzawantedwhat

shehad.Shewantedsofewworriesthatsomethingassimpleasayarndollwouldmakeherhappy.

OnChristmasDayEsperanzawalkedupthefrontstepsofthehospitalwhileAlfonsowaitedinthetruck.Acouplepassedhercarryinggiftswrapped in shinypaper.Awomanhurriedby, carryingapoinsettiaplant and wearing a beautiful red wool coat with a rhinestone Christmas tree pinned to the lapel.Esperanza’seyesrivetedonthecoatandthejewelry.ShewishedshecouldgiveMamaawarmredcoatandapin thatsparkled.She thoughtof thegift shehad inherpocket. Itwasnothingmore thanasmallsmoothstonethatshehadfoundinthefieldswhileweedingpotatoes.ThedoctorhadmovedMamatoawardforpeoplewithlong-termillnesses.Therewereonlyfourother

peopleon the floorand thepatientswerespreadout, theiroccupiedbedsscatteredamong the rowsofbaremattressesinthelongroom.Mamasleptanddidn’twakeeventosayhello.Nevertheless,Esperanzasatnext toher,crochetedafewrowsontheblanketandtoldMamaabout theshedsandIsabelandthestrikers.She toldher thatLupe andPepe could almostwalknow.And thatMiguel thought thatPapa’srosesshowedsignsofgrowth.Mamadidn’twake to say good-bye either.Esperanza tucked the blanket around her, hoping that the

colorfromtheblanketwouldslowlyseepintoMama’scheeks.SheputthestoneonthenighttableandkissedMamagood-bye.“Don’tworry.Iwilltakecareofeverything.Iwillbelapatronaforthefamilynow.”

Esperanza’sbreathmadesmokyvaporsinfrontofherfaceasshewaitedforthetrucktotakehertotiegrapevines.SheshiftedfromfoottofootandclappedherglovedhandstogetherandwonderedwhatwassonewabouttheNewYear.Italreadyseemedold,withthesameroutines.Sheworkedduringtheweek.She helpedHortensia cook dinner in the late afternoons. In the evenings she helped Josefinawith thebabiesandIsabelwithherhomework.ShewenttoseeMamaonSaturdaysandSundays.Shehuddledinthefieldnearasmudgepottokeepwarmandmentallycountedthemoneyshewould

need tobringAbuelitahere.Everyotherweek,with thesmallamounts shesaved, sheboughtamoneyorder from themarket and put it in her valise. She figured that if she keptworking until peaches, shewouldhaveenoughforAbuelita’stravel.HerproblemthenwouldbehowtoreachAbuelita.Themenwentdown the rowsfirst,pruning the thickgrapevinesand leavinga few longbranchesor

“canes” on each trunk. She followed, alongwith others, and tied the canes on the taut wire that wasstretchedposttopost.Sheachedfromthecoldandhadtokeepmovingalldaylongtostaywarm.Thatnight,asshesoakedherhandsinwarmwater,sherealizedthatshenolongerrecognizedthemas

herown.Cutandscarred,swollenandstiff,theylookedlikethehandsofaveryoldman.“Areyousurethiswillwork?”askedEsperanza,asshewatchedHortensiacutaripeavocadoinhalf.“Of course,” said Hortensia, removing the big pit and leaving a hole in the heart of the fruit. She

scoopedoutthepulp,masheditonaplate,andaddedsomeglycerine.“Youhaveseenmemakethisforyourmothermanytimes.Weareluckytohavetheavocadosthistimeofyear.SomefriendsofJosefinabroughtthemfromLosAngeles.”HortensiarubbedtheavocadomixtureintoEsperanza’shands.“Youmustkeepitonfortwentyminutes

soyourhandswillsoakuptheoils.”EsperanzalookedatherhandscoveredinthegreasygreenlotionandrememberedwhenMamausedto

sit like this, aftera longdayofgardeningorafterhorseback rideswithPapa through thedrymesquitegrasslands.When shewas a little girl, she had laughed atMama’s hands covered inwhat looked likeguacamole.But shehad loved forher to rinse thembecauseafterward,Esperanzawould takeMama’shandsandputthepalmsonherownfacesoshecouldfeeltheirsupplenessandbreatheinthefreshsmell.EsperanzawassurprisedatthesimplethingsshemissedaboutMama.Shemissedherwayofwalking

intoa room,gracefuland regal.Shemissedwatchingherhandscrocheting,her fingersmovingnimbly.Andmostofall,shelongedforthesoundofMama’sstrongandassuredlaughter.Sheputherhandsunderthefaucet,rinsedofftheavocado,andpattedthemdry.Theyfeltbetter,butstill

lookedredandweathered.Shetookanotheravocado,cutitinhalf,swungtheknifeintothepitandpulledit from the flesh. She repeated Hortensia’s recipe and as she sat for the second time with her handssmothered, she realized that itwouldn’tmatterhowmuchavocadoandglycerine sheputon them, they

wouldneverlooklikethehandsofawealthywomanfromElRanchodelasRosas.Becausetheywerethehandsofapoorcampesina.

Itwas at the end of grape-tyingwhen the doctor stoppedEsperanza andMiguel in the hallway of thehospitalbeforetheycouldreachMama’sroom.“Iaskedthenursestoalertmewhentheysawyoucoming.I’msorrytotellyouthatyourmotherhas

pneumonia.”“Howcanthatbe?”saidEsperanza,herhandsbeginningtoshakeasshestaredatthedoctor.“Ithought

shewasgettingbetter.”“Thisdisease,ValleyFever,makesthebodytiredandsusceptibletootherinfections.Wearetreating

herwithmedications.She isweak. I know this is hard for you, butwe’d like to ask that she havenovisitorsforatleastamonth,maybelonger.Wecan’ttakeachancethatshewillcontractanotherinfectionfromanyoutsidegermsthatmightbebroughtintothehospital.”“CanIseeher,justforafewmoments?”Thedoctorhesitated,thennodded,andwalkedaway.EsperanzahurriedtoMama’sbedandMiguelfollowed.Esperanzacouldn’timaginenotseeingherfor

somanyweeks.“Mama,”saidEsperanza.MamaslowlyopenedhereyesandgaveEsperanzathesmallestsmile.Shewasthinandfrail.Herhair

wasstrewnandbedraggled.Andherfacewassowhite that itseemedtofadeinto thesheets,as ifshewouldsinkintothebedanddisappearforever.Mamalookedlikeaghostofherself.“ThedoctorsaidIcan’tcometovisitforawhile.”Mamanodded,hereyelidsslowlyfallingbackdown,asifithadbeenaburdentokeepthemup.EsperanzafeltMiguel’shandonhershoulder.“Anza,weshouldgo,”hesaid.ButEsperanzawouldnotmove.Shewanted todosomething forMama tohelpmakeherbetter.She

noticedthebrushandhairpinsonthebedsidetable.ShecarefullyrolledMamaonhersideandgatheredallofherhairtogether.Shebrusheditandplaited

it intoa longbraid.Wrapping itaroundMama’shead,shegentlypinned it intoplace.ThenshehelpedMamalieonherback,herhairnowframingherfaceagainstthewhitelinens,likeabraidedhalo.Likesheusedtowearit,inAguascalientes.Esperanza bent down close to Mama’s ear. “Don’t worry, Mama. Remember, I will take care of

everything.IamworkingandIcanpaythebills.Iloveyou.”Mamasaidsoftly,“Iloveyou,too.”AndasEsperanzaturnedtoleave,sheheardMamawhisper,“No

matterwhathappens.”

“Youneedtogetawayfromthecamp,Esperanza,”saidHortensiaasshehandedherthegrocerylistandaskedhertogotothemarketwithMiguel.“Itisthefirstofspringandit’sbeautifuloutside.”“IthoughtyouandJosefinaalwayslookedforwardtomarketingonSaturday,”saidEsperanza.“Wedo,buttodaywearehelpingMelinaandIrenemakeenchiladas.Couldyougoforus?”Esperanzaknewtheyweretryingtokeepheroccupied.Mamahadbeeninthehospitalforthreemonths

andEsperanzahadn’tbeenallowedtovisitforseveralweeks.Sincethen,Esperanzahadn’tbeenactinglike herself. She went through the motions of living. She was polite enough, answering everyone’squestionswiththesimplestanswers,butshewastormentedbyMama’sabsence.Papa,Abuelita,Mama.Whowouldbenext?Shecrawledintobedasearlyaspossibleeachnight,curledherbodyintoatightball,anddidn’tmove

untilmorning.SheknewJosefinaandHortensiawereworriedabouther.ShenoddedtoHortensia,tookthelist,and

wenttofindMiguel.“BesureyoutellMigueltogotoMr.Yakota’smarket!”Hortensiacalledafterher.Hortensiahadbeenrightabouttheweather.Thefogandgraynesshadgone.Thevalleyairwascrisp

andcleanfromrecentrains.Theydrovealongfieldsoftall,featheryasparagusplantsthatshewouldsoonbe packing.Citrus groves displayed their leftover fruit like decorations onChristmas trees.And eventhough it was still cool, there was an expectancy that Esperanza could smell, a rich loamy odor thatpromisedspring.“Miguel,whymustwealwaysdrivesofartoshopattheJapanesemarketwhenthereareotherstores

closertoArvin?”“Someoftheothermarketownersaren’taskindtoMexicansasMr.Yakota,”saidMiguel.“Hestocks

manyofthethingsweneedandhetreatsuslikepeople.”“Whatdoyoumean?”“Esperanza,peopleherethinkthatallMexicansarealike.Theythinkthatwearealluneducated,dirty,

poor,andunskilled.ItdoesnotoccurtothemthatmanyhavebeentrainedinprofessionsinMexico.”Esperanzalookeddownatherclothes.SheworeashirtwaistdressthatusedtobeMama’sandbefore

that,someoneelse’s.Overthedresswasaman’ssweaterwithseveralbuttonsmissing,whichwasalsotoobig.Sheleanedupandlookedinthemirror.Herfacewastannedfromtheweeksinthefields,andshehad taken towearingherhair ina longbraid likeHortensia’sbecauseMamahadbeen right—itwasmorepracticalthatway.“Miguel,howcouldanyonelookatmeandthinkIwasuneducated?”Hesmiledatherjoke.“Thefactremains,Esperanza,thatyou,forinstance,haveabettereducationthan

mostpeople’schildreninthiscountry.Butnooneislikelytorecognizethatortakethetimetolearnit.Americansseeusasonebig,browngroupwhoaregoodforonlymanuallabor.Atthismarket,noonestaresatusortreatsuslikeoutsidersorcallsus‘dirtygreasers.’MyfathersaysthatMr.Yakotaisaverysmartbusinessman.Heisgettingrichonotherpeople’sbadmanners.”Miguel’s explanationwas familiar. Esperanza’s contact with Americans outside the camp had been

limitedtothedoctorandthenursesatthehospital,butshehadheardstoriesfromothersabouthowtheywere treated. There were special sections at the movie theater for Negroes and Mexicans. In town,parentsdidnotwanttheirchildrengoingtothesameschoolswithMexicans.Livingawayfromtowninthe company camp had its advantages, she decided. The children all went to school together: white,Mexican, Japanese, Chinese, Filipino. It didn’t seem tomatter to anyone because theywere all poor.Sometimesshefeltasifshelivedinacocoon,protectedfrommuchoftheindignation.Miguelpulledthetruckintotheparkinglotatthemarket.“I’llmeetyou.I’mgoingtotalkaboutrailroad

jobswiththosemengatheredonthecorner.”Esperanzawent inside.Mr.Yakotawas fromTokyoand the storehadall sortsof Japanese cooking

ingredientslikeseaweedandginger,andafreshfishcounterwithfishthatstillhadtheirheads.ButtherewereMexicanproducts, too, likemasadeharina for tamales,chiles for salsa, and big bags of driedbeansforfrijoles.Therewasevencow’s intestine in themeatcaseformenudo.Andotherspecialties,likechorizoandpigs’feet.Esperanza’sfavoritepartofthestorewastheceilingthatwascrowdedwithapeculiarcombinationofJapanesepaperlanternsandpiñatasshapedlikestarsanddonkeys.TherewasasmalltissuedonkeythatEsperanzahadnotnoticedbefore.ItwasliketheoneMamahad

boughtherafewyearsago.Esperanzahadthoughtitsocutethatshehadrefusedtobreakit,eventhoughithadbeenfilledwithsweets.Instead,shehadhungitinherroomaboveherbed.A clerk walked by and impulsively, she pointed to the miniature piñata. “Por favor,” she said.

“Please.”Sheboughttheotherthingssheneeded,includinganothermoneyorder.Thatwasonemorebenefitof

Mr.Yakota’smarket:Shecouldbuymoneyordersthere.ShewaswaitinginthetruckwhenMiguelcameback.“Anothermoneyorder?Whatdoyoudowiththemall?”askedMiguel.“Isavetheminmyvalise.Theyareforsuchsmallamountsbuttogether,they’llbeenoughtosomeday

bringAbuelitahere.”“Andthepiñata?It’snotanyone’sbirthday.”“IboughtitforMama.I’mgoingtoaskthenursestoputitnearherbed,soshe’llknowthatI’mthinking

ofher.Wecanstopbythehospitalonthewayback.WillyoucutaholeinthetopformesoIcanputthecaramelsinside?Thenursescaneatthem.”Hetookouthispocketknifeandmadeanopeninginthepiñata.WhileMigueldrove,Esperanzabegan

feedinginthecaramels.

Notfardownthemainroad,theyapproachedanalmondgrove,thetreesflushwithgray-greenleavesandwhiteblossoms.Esperanzanoticedagirlandawomanwalkinghandinhand,eachwithagrocerybagin her other arm. She couldn’t help but thinkwhat a nice scene itmade,with the twowomen framedagainstsomanyspringblossoms.Esperanzarecognizedoneofthem.“IthinkthatisMarta.”Miguelstoppedthetruck,thenslowlybackedup.“Weshouldgiveheraride.”Esperanza reluctantly nodded, remembering the last time they’d given her a lift, but she opened the

door.“Esperanza andMiguel,quebuena suerte.What good luck,” saidMarta. “This ismymother,Ada.

Thanksfortheride.”Marta’smotherhadthesameshort,curlyblackhairbutherswassprinkledwithgray.Miguelgotoutandputallthegroceriesinthetruckbedsotheycouldsitinthefront.Adasaid,“IheardaboutyourmotherandI’vebeenprayingforher.”Esperanzawassurprisedandtouched.“Thankyou,I’mgrateful.”“Areyoucomingtoourcamp?”askedMiguel.“No,”saidMarta.“Asyouprobablyknow, I’mnotwelcome there.We’regoingamileor soup the

roadtothestrikers’farm.Weweretossedoutofthemigrantworkers’campandweretoldeithertogoback toworkor leave.Sowe left.We aren’t going toworkunder thosedisgusting conditions and forthosepitifulwages.”AdawasquietandnoddedwhenMartatalkedaboutthestrike.Esperanzafeltatwingeofenvywhen

shenoticedthatMartaneverletgoofhermother’shand.“Therearehundredsofustogetheratthisfarm,butthousandsaroundthecountyandmorepeoplejoin

ourcauseeachday.Youarenewhere,butintime,you’llunderstandwhatwe’retryingtochange.Turnleft,”shesaid,pointingtoadirtroadruttedwithtiremarks.Miguel turned down the path bordered in cotton fields. Finally, they reached several acres of land

surroundedby chain-link fencing andbarbedwire, its singleopeningguardedby severalmenwearingarmbands.“Aquí.Righthere,”saidAda.“Whataretheguardsfor?”askedEsperanza.“They’reforprotection,”saidMarta.“Thefarmerwhoownsthelandissympathetictousbutalotof

peopledon’tlikethestrikerscausingtrouble.We’vehadthreats.Thementaketurnsattheentrance.”Miguelpulledthetrucktothesideoftheroadandstopped.TherewereonlytenwoodentoiletstallsforhundredsofpeopleandEsperanzacouldsmelltheeffects

fromthetruck.Somepeoplelivedintentsbutothershadonlyburlapbagsstretchedbetweenpoles.Somewerelivingintheircarsoroldtrucks.Mattresseswereontheground,wherepeopleanddogsrested.Agoatwastiedtoatree.Therewasalongpipethatlayontopofthegroundandalineofwaterspigots

sticking up from it. Near each spigotwere pots and pans and campfire rings, themakings of outdoorkitchens.Inanirrigationditch,womenwerewashingclothes,andchildrenwerebathingatthesametime.Clotheslinesraneverywhere.Itwasagreatjumbleofhumanityandconfusion.Esperanzacouldnotstoplooking.ShefelthypnotizedbythesqualorbutMartaandhermotherdidn’t

seemtheleastbitembarrassed.“Home,sweethome,”saidMarta.Theyallclimbedoutofthetruck,butbeforeMartaandAdacouldretrievetheirgroceries,acampesino

familycomingfromtheoppositedirectionapproachedthem.Thechildrenweredirtyandskinnyandthemotherheldaninfant,whowascrying.“DoyouhavefoodsothatIcanfeedmyfamily?”saidthefather.“Wewerethrownoutofourcamp

becauseIwasstriking.Myfamilyhasnoteatenintwodays.Therearetoomanypeoplecomingintothevalleyeachdaywhowillworkforpennies.YesterdayIworkedalldayandmadelessthanfiftycentsandIcannotbuyfoodforonedaywith that. Iwashopingthathere,withotherswhohavebeenthroughthesame…”“Youarewelcomehere,”saidAda.Esperanzareachedintothetruckbedandopenedthelargebagofbeans.“Handmeyourhat,Señor.”Themanhandedoverhislargesunhatandshefilleditwiththedriedbeans,thengaveitbacktohim.“Gracias,gracias,”hesaid.Esperanzalookedatthetwoolderchildren,theireyeswateryandvacant.Sheliftedthepiñataandheld

itouttothem.Theysaidnothingbuthurriedtowardher,tookit,andranbacktotheirfamily.Martalookedather.“Areyousureyouaren’talreadyonourside?”Esperanzashookherhead.“Theywerehungry, that’sall.EvenifIbelievedinwhatyouaredoing,I

musttakecareofmymother.”AdaputherhandonEsperanza’sarmandsmiled.“Wealldowhatwehavetodo.Yourmotherwould

beproudofyou.”Miguel handed them their bags, and theywalked toward the farmer’s field.Before they reached the

gate,Martasuddenlyturnedandsaid,“Ishouldn’tbetellingyouthis,butthestrikersaremoreorganizedthantheyappear.Inafewweeks,duringasparagus,thingsaregoingtohappenalloverthecounty.We’regoingtoshutdowneverything,thefields,thesheds,therailroad.Ifyouhavenotjoinedusbythen,beverycareful.”Thenshehurriedtocatchupwithhermother.AsMiguel andEsperanza rodeback toArvin, neitherof themsaid aword formanymiles.Marta’s

threatandtheguiltofhavingajobweighedheavilyonEsperanza’smind.“Doyouthinktheyareright?”sheasked.“Idon’tknow,”saidMiguel.“Whatthemansaidistrue.Ihaveheardthattherewillbetentimesthe

peopleherelookingforjobsinthenextfewmonths,fromOklahoma,Arkansas,Texas,andotherplaces,too.Andthattheyarepoorpeoplelikeus,whoneedtofeedtheirfamilies,too.Ifsomanycomeandare

willing toworkforpennies,whatwillhappen tous?Butuntil then,withsomany joining thestrikes, Imightbeabletogetajobattherailroad.”Esperanza’smindwrestledwithMiguel’swords.Forhim,thestrikewasanopportunitytoworkatthe

jobhelovedandtomakeitinthiscountry,butforher,itwasathreattoherfinances,Abuelita’sarrival,and Mama’s recuperation. Then there was the matter of her own safety. She thought of Mama andAbuelita,andsheknewtherewasonlyonethingforhertodo.

EsperanzastudiedherhandsafewnightslaterasshewalkedtowardthecabinandhopedHortensiahadafewmoreavocados. Itwas later thanusual.Shehadbeenweedingasparagus ina far fieldsoshehadbeen on the last truck.When she arrived at the cabin, everyonewas crowded around the small table.TherewerefreshtortillasonaplateandHortensiawasstirringapanofmachaca,scrambledeggswithshreddedmeat,onions,andpeppers.ItwasMiguel’sfavoritebuttheyusuallyateitforbreakfast.“Whatistheoccasion?”askedEsperanza.“Igotajobinthemachineshopattherailroad.”“Oh,Miguel!That’sgoodnews!”“Somanyrailroadworkershavejoinedthestrikers.Iknowitmightbetemporarybut ifIdoagood

job,maybetheywillkeepme.”“Thatisright,”saidAlfonso.“Youdogoodwork.Theywillseeit.Theywillkeepyou.”Esperanza sat down and listened toMiguel tell the others about the job, but shewasn’t hearing his

words.Shewasseeinghiseyes,dancinglikePapa’swhenheusedto talkabout the land.ShewatchedMiguel’sanimatedface,thinkingthatatlast,hisdreamwascomingtrue.

Martawas right.The strikersweremore organized than ever.They handed out flyers in front ofeverystore.Theypaintedthesidesofoldbarnswiththeirslogansandheldbigmeetingsatthefarm.Forthosewhocontinuedtowork,therewerestilljobs,butEsperanzacouldhearthetightnessandworryinherneighbors’voices.Sheworried,too,aboutwhatwouldhappenifshedidn’thaveajob.Asparaguswouldbealongseason,sometimesuptotenweeks.Butithadtobepickedbeforethehigh

temperaturestouchedthevalleyinJune.Thestrikersknewthatiftheycouldslowdowntheworkers,itwouldaffectthegrowers,sowhenthetenderstalkswereready,thestrikerswereready,too.Esperanza got on the flatbed truck with Hortensia and Josefina for the first day of packing. The

companyhadsentamanwithaguntorideonthetruckwiththem,forprotectiontheysaid,but thegunfrightenedEsperanza.Whentheyarrivedatthesheds,acrowdofwomeneruptedintoshoutingandbooing.Theycarriedsigns

thatsaid,“¡Huelga!Strike!”AmongthemwereMartaandherfriends.Andtheywereyelling.“Helpusfeedourchildren!”“Wemustalljointogetherifwearealltoeat!”“Saveyourcountrymenfromstarving!”When Esperanza saw their menacing faces, she wanted to run back to the safety of the camp, do

laundry,cleandiapers,anythingbutthis.Shewantedtotellthemthathermotherwassick.Thatshehadtopaythebills.ShewantedtoexplaintothemaboutAbuelitaandhowshehadtofindawaytogetsomemoneytohersoshecouldtravel.Thenmaybethey’dunderstandwhysheneededherjob.Shewantedtotellthemthatshedidnotwantanyone’schildrentostarve.Butsheknewitwouldnotmatter.Thestrikersonlylistenedifyouagreedwiththem.She reached forHortensia’s hand and pulled her close. Josefinamarched toward the shed, looking

straightahead.HortensiaandEsperanzastayedclosebehind,neverlettinggoofeachother.Oneof thewomenfromtheircampcalledout.“Wemake lessmoneypackingasparagus thanyoudo

whenyoupickcotton.Leaveusalone.Ourchildrenarehungry,too.”Whentheguardwasn’tlooking,oneofthestrikerspickeduparockandthrewitatthewoman,barely

missingherhead,andtheworkersallhurriedtowardtheshed.Thestrikersstayedneartheroad,butEsperanza’sheartwasstillbeatingwildlyassheandthewomen

tooktheirplacestopacktheasparagus.Allday,asshesortedandbundledthedelicatespears,sheheardtheirchantingandtheirthreats.That night at dinner Alfonso and Juan told how they had the same problems in the fields. Strikers

waited for them and they had to cross picket lines to get towork.Once in the fields, theywere safe,protectedbyguardsthecompanyhadsent.Butthelugsofasparagusthatweresentbacktotheshedshad

tobetakenacrossthepicketlinesandthestrikersoftenslippedsurprisesbeneaththeharvest.Thestrikecontinuedfordays.Oneafternoon,asJosefinatookahandfulofasparagusfromacrate,a

largeratjumpedoutather.Afewdayslater,Esperanzaheardaterriblescreamfromoneofthewomenandseveralwrithinggophersnakesslitheredoutofacrate.Theyfoundrazorbladesandshardsofglassinthefieldbinsandthewomen,usuallyefficientandquicktounpacktheasparagus,sloweddownandwerehesitanttograbthevegetablesfromtheirboxes.Whenseveralofthemheardarattlingfrombeneathapileofstalks,thesupervisorstooktheentirecrateouttotheyard,dumpedit,andfoundanangryrattlesnakeinside.“Itwasamiraclethatnoonewasbittenbythatsnake,”saidHortensiathatnightatdinner.Theywere

allgatheredinonecabin,eatingcaldodealbóndigas,meatballsoup.“Didyouseeit?”askedIsabel.“Yes,”saidEsperanza.“Weallsawit. Itwasfrighteningbut thesupervisorcut itsheadoffwith the

hoe.”Isabelcringed.“Can’ttheydoanythingtothestrikers?”askedHortensia.“It’safreecountry,”saidMiguel.“Besides,thestrikersarecareful.Aslongastheystayneartheroad

andtheguardsdon’tactuallyseethemdoanythingaggressive,thenno,there’snotmuchanyonecando.It’sthesameattherailroad.Ipassthepicketlineseveryday,andlistentotheyellingandtheinsults.”“It’stheyellingalldaylongthatbothersme,”saidHortensia.“Remember,donotrespondtothem,”saidAlfonso.“Thingswillgetbetter.”“Papa,”saidMiguel.“Thingswillgetworse.Haveyouseen thecarsand truckscoming through the

passinthemountains?Everyday,moreandmorepeople.Someofthemsaytheywillpickcottonforfiveandsixcentsapound,andwillpickproduceforless.Peoplecannotsurviveonsuchlowwages.”“Wherewillitend?”saidJosefina.“Everyonewillstarveifpeopleworkforlessandlessmoney.”“Thatisthestrikers’point,”saidEsperanza.Noonesaidanything.Forksclinkedontheplates.Pepe,whowassittinginEsperanza’slap,droppeda

meatballonthefloor.“Arewegoingtostarve?”askedIsabel.“No,mija,”saidJosefina.“Howcouldanyonestarveherewithsomuchfoodaroundus?”

Esperanzahadgrownsoaccustomedtothestrikers’chantingwhileshepackedasparagusthatthemomentitstopped,shelookedupfromherworkasifsomethingwaswrong.“Hortensia,doyouhearthat?”“What?”

“Thesilence.Thereisnomoreyelling.”Theotherwomenonthelinelookedateachother.Theycouldn’tseethestreetfromwheretheystood

sotheymovedtotheotherendoftheshed,cautiouslylookingouttowherethestrikersusuallystood.Inthedistance,acaravanofgraybusesandpolicecarsheadedfasttowardtheshed,dustflyingintheir

wakes.“Immigration!”saidJosefina.“Itisasweep.”Thepicketsignslayontheground,discarded,andlikeamassofmarblesthathadalreadybeenhit,the

strikers scattered into the fields and toward the boxcars on the tracks, anywhere they could hide. Thebusesandcarsscreechedtoastopandimmigrationofficialsandpolicecarryingclubsjumpedoutandranafterthem.Thewomeninthepackingshedhuddledtogether,protectedbythecompany’sguard.“Whataboutus?”saidEsperanza,hereyesrivetedontheguardswhocaught thestrikersandshoved

thembacktowardthebuses.TheywouldsurelycomeintotheshednextwithsomanyMexicansworkinghere.HerfingersdesperatelyclenchedHortensia’sarm.“IcannotleaveMama.”Hortensiaheardthepanicinhervoice.“No,no,Esperanza.Theyarenothereforus.Thegrowersneed

theworkers.Thatiswhythecompanyguardsus.”Severalimmigrationofficialsaccompaniedbypolicebegansearchingtheplatform,turningoverboxes

anddumpingoutfieldbins.Hortensiawasright.Theyignoredtheworkersintheirstainedaprons,theirhands still holding the green asparagus. Finding no strikers on the dock, they jumped back down andhurriedtowhereacrowdwasbeingloadedontothebuses.“¡Americana! ¡Americana!” yelled one woman and she began to unfold some papers. One of the

officialstookthepapersfromherhandandtorethemintopieces.“Getonthebus,”heordered.“Whatwilltheydowiththem?”askedEsperanza.“TheywilltakethemtoLosAngeles,andputthemonthetraintoElPaso,Texas,andthentoMexico,”

saidJosefina.“Butsomeofthemarecitizens,”saidEsperanza.“Itdoesn’tmatter.Theyarecausingproblemsforthegovernment.Theyaretalkingaboutformingafarm

workers’unionandthegovernmentandthegrowersdon’tlikethat.”“Whatabouttheirfamilies?Howwilltheyknow?”“Wordgetsout.Itissad.Theyleavethebusesparkedatthestationuntillateatnightwiththosethey

capturedonboard.Familiesdon’twanttobeseparatedfromtheirlovedonesandusuallygowiththem.Thatistheidea.Theycallitavoluntarydeportation.Butitisnotmuchofachoice.”Two immigration officials positioned themselves in front of the shed. The others left on the buses.

Esperanzaandtheotherwomenwatchedthedespondentfacesinthewindowsdisappear.Slowly, the women reassembled on the line and began to pack again. It had all lasted only a few

minutes.

“Whathappensnow?”askedEsperanza.“LaMigra will keep their eyes open for any strikers that might be back,” said Josefina, nodding

towardthetwomenstationednearby.“Andwegobacktoworkandfeelthankfulitisnotusonthatbus.”Esperanza took a deep breath and went back to her spot. She was relieved, but still imagined the

anguishofthestrikers.Troubledthoughtsstayedinhermind.Somethingseemedverywrongaboutsendingpeopleawayfromtheirown“freecountry”becausetheyhadspokentheirminds.Shenoticedsheneededmorebandstowraparoundtheasparagusbundlesandwalkedtothebackof

thedocktogetthem.Withinamazeoftallcrates,shesearchedforthethickrubberbands.Someoftheboxeshadbeen tossedoverby the immigrationofficials and as shebent down to set one straight, shesuckedinherbreath,startledbywhatwasinfrontofher.Martawashuddledinacorner,holdingherfingertoherlips,hereyesbeggingforhelp.Shewhispered,

“Please,Esperanza.Don’ttell.Ican’tgetcaught.Imusttakecareofmymother.”Esperanzastoodfrozenforamoment,rememberingMarta’smeannessthatfirstdayinthetruck.Ifshe

helpedherandsomeonefoundout,Esperanzawouldbeonthenextbusherself.Shecouldn’triskitandstartedtosayno.But thenshethoughtaboutMartaandhermotherholdinghands,andcouldn’t imaginethembeingseparatedfromeachother.Andbesides,theywerebothcitizens.Theyhadeveryrighttobehere.Sheturnedaroundandheadedbacktowheretheotherswereworking.Noonepaidanyattentiontoher.

Theywereallbusytalkingaboutthesweep.Shepickedupabundleofasparagus,severalburlapsacksfromastack,andadirtyapronthatsomeonehadleftonahook.ShequietlywanderedbacktoMarta’shidingplace.“LaMigraisstilloutfront,”shesaidinahushedvoice.“Theywillprobablyleaveinanhourwhentheshedcloses.”ShehandedtheapronandtheasparagustoMarta.“Whenyouleave,putontheapronandcarrytheasparagussoyou’lllooklikeaworker,justincaseanyonestopsyou.”“Gracias,”whisperedMarta.“I’msorryImisjudgedyou.”“Shhh,” said Esperanza, repositioning the crates and draping the burlap sacks across their tops so

Martacouldn’tbeseen.“Esperanza,”calledJosefina,“whereareyou?Weneedtherubberbands.”Esperanza stuck her head around the corner and saw Josefinawith her hands on her hips, waiting.

“Coming,”shecalled.Shegrabbedabundleofbandsandwentbacktoworkasifnothinghadhappened.

Esperanzalayinbedthatnightandlistenedtotheothersinthefrontroomtalkaboutthesweepsandthedeportations.“Theywenttoeverymajorgrowerandputhundredsofstrikersonthebuses,”saidJuan.“Somesaytheydidittocreatemorejobsforthosecomingfromtheeast,”saidJosefina.“Wearelucky

thecompanyneedsusrightnow.Iftheydidn’t,wecouldbenext.”“Wehavebeenloyaltothecompanyandthecompanywillbeloyaltous!”saidAlfonso.“I’mjustgladit’sover,”saidHortensia.“It isnotover,”saidMiguel.“Intime, theywillbeback,especiallyif theyhavefamilieshere.They

willreorganizeandtheywillbestronger.Therewillcomeatimewhenwewillhavetodecidealloveragainwhethertojointhemornot.”Esperanzatriedtogotosleepbut thedayspuninhermind.Shewasgladshehadkeptworkingand

thankful thathercamphadvotednot tostrike,butsheknewthatunderdifferentcircumstances, itcouldhavebeenheronthatbus.AndthenwhatwouldMamahavedone?Herthoughtsjumpedbackandforth.Some of those people did not deserve their fate today.Howwas it that theUnited States could sendpeopletoMexicowhohadneverevenlivedthere?Shecouldn’tstopthinkingaboutMarta.Itdidn’tmatterifEsperanzaagreedwithhercauseornot.No

one should have to be separated fromher family.HadMartamade herwayback to the strikers’ farmwithoutgettingcaught?Hadshefoundhermother?Forsomereason,Esperanzahadtoknow.

Thenextmorning,shebeggedMigueltodrivebythefarm.Thefieldwasstillsurroundedbythechain-linkfence,butnoonewasprotectingtheentrancethistime.

All theevidenceofpeopleshehadseenbeforewas there,butnotonepersonwas tobeseen.Laundrywavedontheclothesline.Plateswithriceandbeanssatoncratesandswarmedwithbusyflies.Shoeswerelinedupinfrontoftents,asifwaitingforsomeonetostepintothem.Thebreezepickeduploosenewspapersandfloatedthemacrossthefield.Itwasquietanddesolate,exceptforthegoatstilltiedtothetree,bleatingforfreedom.“Immigrationhasbeenhere, too,”saidMiguel.Hegotoutof the truck,walkedover to the tree,and

untiedthegoat.Esperanza looked out over the field that used to be crawling with people who thought they could

change things — who were trying to get the attention of the growers and the government to makeconditionsbetterforthemselvesandforher,too.Morethananything,EsperanzahopedthatMartaandhermotherweretogether,butnowtherewouldbe

nowayforhertofindout.MaybeMarta’sauntwouldhear,eventually.Somethingcolorfulcaughthereye.Danglingfromatreebranchweretheremnantsofthelittledonkey

piñatathatshehadgiventhechildren,itstissuestreamersflutteringinthebreeze.Ithadbeenbeatenwithastick,itsinsidestornout.

Now,alongwithherprayersforAbuelitaandMama,EsperanzaprayedforMartaandhermotheratthewashtubgrotto.Papa’sroses,althoughstillshortandsquat,hadpromisingtightbuds,buttheyweren’ttheonlyflowersthere.Sheoftenfoundthatsomeonehadputaposyofsweetalyssuminfrontofthestatue,orasingleiris,orhaddrapedahoneysucklevineoverthetopofthetub.Lately,shehadseenIsabelthereeveryeveningafterdinner,kneelingonthehardground.“Isabel, areyou sayinganovena?”askedEsperanzawhen she foundher at the statue,yet againone

night.“Itseemsyouhavebeenprayingforatleastninedays.”IsabelgotupfromherdedicationandlookedupatEsperanza.“ImightbeQueenof theMay.Intwo

weeks,onMayDay,thereisafestivalatmyschoolandadancearoundapolewithcoloredribbons.Theteacherwillchoosethebestgirlstudentinthethirdgradetobequeen.Andrightnow,IamtheonlyonewhohasstraightAs.”“Thenitmightbeyou!”saidEsperanza.“Myfriendstoldmethatit isusuallyoneoftheEnglishspeakersthatischosen.Theoneswhowear

nicerdresses.SoI’mgoingtoprayeveryday.”Esperanza thoughtaboutall thebeautifuldresses shehadoutgrown inMexico.Howshewishedshe

couldhavepassedthemontoIsabel.Esperanzabegantoworrythatshewouldbedisappointed.“Well,evenifyouarenotthequeen,youwillstillbeabeautifuldancer,right?”“Oh,butEsperanza.Iwantsomuchtobethequeen!Iwanttobelareina,likeyou.”Shelaughed.“Butregardless,youwillalwaysbeourqueen.”Esperanzaleftherthere,devoutlypraying,andwentintothecabin.“HasaMexicangirleverbeenchosenQueenoftheMay?”sheaskedJosefina.Josefina’s face tookonadisappointed lookandshesilentlyshookherheadno.“Ihaveasked.They

alwaysfindawaytochooseablonde,blue-eyedqueen.”“Butthat’snotright,”saidEsperanza.“Especiallyifitisbasedongrades.”“There is always a reason.That is theway it is,” said Josefina. “Melina toldme that last year the

Japanesegirlhadthebestmarksinthethirdgradeandstilltheydidnotchooseher.”“Thenwhatisthepointofbasingitonmarks?”askedEsperanza,knowingtherewasnoanswertoher

question.HerheartalreadyachedforIsabel.

AweeklaterEsperanzaputyetanotherbundleofasparagusonthetableafterwork.Thetallandfeatheryasparagus plants seemed to be as unrelenting as Isabel’s desire to be queen. Theworkers picked the

spearsfromthefieldsandafewdayslater,thesamefieldshadtobepickedagainbecausenewshootswerealreadyshowingtheirheads.AndIsabeltalkedofnothingelse,exceptthepossibilityofwearingthewinner’scrownofflowersonherhead.“Ihateasparagus,”saidIsabel,barelylookingupfromherhomework.“Duringgrapes,youhategrapes.Duringpotatoes,youhatepotatoes.Andduringasparagus,youhate

asparagus.Isupposethatduringpeaches,youwillhatepeaches.”Isabellaughed.“No,Ilovepeaches.”HortensiastirredapotofbeansandEsperanzatookoffthestainedapronsheworeintheshedsandput

onanother.Shebeganmeasuringtheflourtomake tortillas.Inafewminutes,shewaspattingthefreshdoughthatleftherhandslookingasifsheworewhitegloves.“MyteacherwillchoosetheQueenoftheMaythisweek,”saidIsabel.Herentirebodywiggledwith

excitement.“Yes,youhavetoldus,”saidEsperanza,teasingher.“Doyouhaveanythingnewtotellus?”“TheyaremakinganewcampforpeoplefromOklahoma,”saidIsabel.EsperanzalookedatHortensia.“Isthattrue?”Hortensianodded.“Theyannounceditatthecampmeeting.Theownerofthefarmboughtsomearmy

barracksfromanoldmilitarycampandismovingthemontothepropertynottoofarfromhere.”“Theyget inside toiletsandhotwater!Andaswimmingpool!”said Isabel.“Our teacher toldusall

aboutit.Andwewillallbeabletoswiminit.”“One day aweek,” saidHortensia, looking at Esperanza. “TheMexicans can only swim on Friday

afternoons,beforetheycleanthepoolonSaturdaymornings.”Esperanzapoundedthedoughalittletoohard.“Dotheythinkwearedirtierthantheothers?”Hortensiadidnot answerbut turned to the stove to cooka tortilla on the flat blackcomal over the

flame.ShelookedatEsperanzaandheldherfingertohermouth,signalinghernottodiscusstoomuchinfrontofIsabel.Miguelwalkedin,kissedhismother,thenpickedupaplateandafreshtortillaandwenttothepotof

beans.Hisclotheswerecoveredinmudthathaddriedgray.“Howdidyougetsodirty?”askedHortensia.Miguelsatdownatthetable.“AgroupofmenshowedupfromOklahoma.Theysaidtheywouldwork

forhalfthemoneyandtherailroadhiredallofthem.”Helookedintohisplateandshookhishead.“Someofthemhaveneverevenworkedonamotorbefore.Mybosssaidthathedidn’tneedme.Thattheyweregoingtotrainthenewmen.HesaidIcoulddigditchesorlaytracksifIwanted.”Esperanzastaredathim,herflouredhandsinmidair.“Whatdidyoudo?”“Canyounottellfrommyclothes?Idugditches.”Hisvoicewassharpbuthecontinuedeating,asif

nothingwerewrong.“Miguel,howcouldyouagreetosuchathing?”saidEsperanza.

Miguelraisedhisvoice.“Whatwouldyouhavemedoinstead?Icouldhavewalkedout.ButIwouldhavenopayfortoday.ThosemenfromOklahomahavefamilies,too.Wemustallworkatsomethingorwewillallstarve.”AtemperEsperanzadidnotrecognizeragedtothesurface.Then,liketheirrigationpipesinthefields

whenthewaterisfirst turnedon,herangerburstforth.“Whydidn’tyourbosstell theotherstodigtheditches?!”Shelookedatthedoughshewasholdinginherhandandthrewitat thewall.Itstuckforaninstant,andthenslowlysliddownthewall,leavingadarkenedtrail.Isabel’sseriouseyesdartedfromMigueltoEsperanzatoHortensia.“Arewegoingtostarve?”“No!”theyallansweredatthesametime.Esperanza’seyeswereonfire.Shestampedoutofthecabin,slammingthedoor,andwalkedpastthe

mulberryandthechinaberrytreestothevineyard.Shehurrieddownarow,thencutovertoanother.“Esperanza!”SheheardMiguel’svoiceinthedistancebutshedidn’tanswer.Whenshegottotheendofonerow,she

moveduptoanother.“Anza!”Shecouldhearhimrunningdowntherows,catchingupwithher.Shekepthereyesonthetamarisktreesinthefardistanceandwalkedfaster.Migueleventuallycaughtherarmandpulledheraround.“Whatisthematterwithyou?”“IsthisthebetterlifethatyouleftMexicofor?Isit?Nothingisrighthere!Isabelwillcertainlynotbe

queennomatterhowbadlyshewantsitbecausesheisMexican.YoucannotworkonenginesbecauseyouareMexican.Wehavegonetoworkthroughangrycrowdsofourownpeoplewhothrewrocksatus,andI’mafraidtheymighthavebeenright!TheysendpeoplebacktoMexicoeveniftheydon’tbelongthere,justforspeakingup.Weliveinahorsestall.Andnoneofthisbothersyou?Haveyouheardthattheyarebuilding a new camp for Okies, with a swimming pool? The Mexicans can only swim in it on theafternoonbefore theyclean it!Haveyouheard theywillbegiven inside toiletsandhotwater?Whyisthat,Miguel?Isitbecausetheyarethefairestintheland?Tellme!IsthislifereallybetterthanbeingaservantinMexico?”Miguellookedoutoverthegrapeswherethesunsetlowonthehorizon,castinglongshadowsinthe

vineyard.Heturnedbacktoher.“InMexico,Iwasasecond-classcitizen.Istoodontheothersideoftheriver,remember?AndIwould

havestayedthatwaymyentirelife.Atleasthere,Ihaveachance,howeversmall,tobecomemorethanwhatIwas.You,obviously,canneverunderstandthisbecauseyouhaveneverlivedwithouthope.”Sheclenchedherfistsandclosedhereyestightinfrustration.“Miguel,doyounotunderstand?Youare

still a second-class citizenbecauseyouact likeone, letting them takeadvantageofyou like that.Whydon’tyougotoyourbossandconfronthim?Whydon’tyouspeakupforyourselfandyourtalents?”“Youarebeginningtosoundlikethestrikers,Esperanza,”saidMiguelcoldly.“Thereismorethanone

waytogetwhatyouwantinthiscountry.MaybeImustbemoredeterminedthanotherstosucceed,butIknowthatitwillhappen.Aguántatetantitoylafrutacaeráentumano.”Thewordsstoppedherasifsomeonehadslappedherface.Papa’swords:Waitalittlewhileandthe

fruitwillfallintoyourhand.Butshewastiredofwaiting.ShewastiredofMamabeingsickandAbuelitabeing far away and Papa being dead.As she thought about Papa, tears sprang from her eyes and shesuddenly feltweary, as if she had been clinging to a rope but didn’t have the strength to hold on anylonger.Shesobbedwithhereyesclosedandimaginedshewasfalling,withthewindwhooshingpastherandnothingbutdarknessbelow.“Anza.”CouldIfallallthewaybacktoMexicoifIneveropenedmyeyesagain?ShefeltMiguel’shandonherarmandopenedhereyes.“Anza,everythingwillworkout,”hesaid.Esperanzabackedawayfromhimandshookherhead,“Howdoyouknowthese things,Miguel?Do

youhavesomeprophecythatIdonot?Ihavelosteverything.EverysinglethingandallthethingsthatIwasmeant tobe.See theseperfect rows,Miguel?Theyare likewhatmy lifewouldhavebeen.Theserowsknowwheretheyaregoing.Straightahead.NowmylifeislikethezigzagintheblanketonMama’sbed.IneedtogetAbuelitahere,butIcannotevensendhermypitifulsavingsforfearmyuncleswillfindoutandkeepherthereforever.IpayMama’smedicalbillsbutnextmonththerewillbemore.Ican’tstandyourblindhope.Idon’twanttohearyouroptimismaboutthislandofpossibilitywhenIseenoproof!”“Asbadasthingsare,wehavetokeeptrying.”“Butitdoesnogood!Lookatyourself.Areyoustandingontheothersideoftheriver?No!Youare

stillapeasant!”Witheyesashardasgreenplums,Miguelstaredatherandhisfacecontortedintoadisgustedgrimace.

“Andyoustillthinkyouareaqueen.”

Thenextmorning,Miguelwasgone.HehadtoldhisfatherhewasgoingtonorthernCaliforniatolookforworkontherailroad.Hortensia

wasconfusedandworriedthathewouldleavesosuddenly,butAlfonsoreassuredher.“Heisdetermined.Andheisseventeennow.Hecantakecareofhimself.”Esperanza was too ashamed to tell anyone what was said in the vineyard and she secretly knew

Miguel’sleavingwasherfault.WhenshesawHortensia’sanxiety,Esperanzafelttheheavyresponsibilityforhissafety.ShewenttoPapa’srosesandwhenshesawthefirstbloom,herheartachedbecauseshewishedshe

could run and tellMiguel.Please,OurLady, sheprayed, don’t let anything happen to him or Iwill

neverbeabletoforgivemyselfforthethingsIsaid.

EsperanzakepthermindoffMiguelbyworkinghardandconcentratingonIsabel.WhenEsperanzasawalugofearlypeachescomeinto theshed,shesetasideabagtobringhometoher.Shejusthadtohavethem,especiallytoday.Asshewalkeddowntherowofcabinsafterwork,shecouldseeIsabelinthedistance,waitingforher.

Isabelsatupstraight,primly,withhersmallhandsfoldedinherlap,hereyessearchingtherow.WhenshesawEsperanza,shejumpedupandrantowardher.Asshegotcloser,Esperanzacouldseethetearstreaksonhercheeks.IsabelthrewherarmsaroundEsperanza’swaist.“IdidnotwinQueenoftheMay!”shesaid,sobbing

intothefoldsofherskirt.“Ihadthebestgradesbuttheteachersaidshechoseonmorethanjustgrades.”Esperanzawanteddesperatelytomakeituptoher.Shepickedherupandheldher.“I’msorry,Isabel.

I’msosorrythattheydidnotchooseyou.”Sheputherdownandtookherhandandtheywalkedbacktothecabin.“Haveyoutoldtheothers?Yourmother?”“No,”shesniffed.“Theyarenothomeyet.IwassupposedtogotoIreneandMelina’sbutIwantedto

waitforyou.”Esperanzatookherintothecabinandsatonthebednexttoher.“Isabel,itdoesnotmatterwhowon.

Yes,youwouldhavemadeabeautifulqueenbutthatwouldhavelastedforonlyoneday.Adaygoesbyfast,Isabel.Andthenitisover.”Esperanzabentdown,pulledhervalisefromunderthebed,andopenedit.Theonlythingleft inside

wastheporcelaindoll.ShehadshownittoIsabelmanytimes,tellingherthestoryofhowPapahadgivenittoher.Althoughalittledusty,thedollstilllookedlovely,itseyeshopefullikeIsabel’susuallywere.“Iwantyou tohavesomething thatwill lastmore thanoneday,” saidEsperanza.She lifted thedoll

fromthevaliseandhandedittoIsabel.“Tokeepasyourown.”Isabel’seyeswidened.“Ohn…no,Esperanza,”shesaid,hervoicestillshakyandherfacewetwith

tears.“Yourpapagavehertoyou.”EsperanzastrokedIsabel’shair.“Doyouthinkmypapawouldwantherburiedinsideavaliseallthis

timewithnooneplayingwithher?Lookather.Shemustbelonely.Sheisevengettingdusty!Andlookatme.Iammuchtoooldfordolls.PeoplewouldmakefunofmeifIcarriedheraround,andyouknowhowIhateitwhenpeoplelaughatme.Isabel,youwouldbedoingmeandmypapaafavorifyouwouldloveher.”“Really?”saidIsabel.“Yes,”saidEsperanza.“AndIthinkthatyoushouldtakehertoschooltoshowallyourfriends,don’t

youagree?I’msurenoneofthem,noteventheQueenoftheMay,haseverownedanythingasbeautiful.”Isabelcradledthedollinherarms,hertearsdryingonherface.“Esperanza,Iprayedandprayedabout

beingQueenoftheMay.”“OurLadyknewthatbeingqueenwouldnotlast,butthatthedollwouldbeyoursforalongtime.”Isabelnodded,asmallsmilebeginning.“Whatwillyourmamasay?”Esperanzahuggedher,“Ihaveameetingwiththedoctorthisweeksoifheletsme,Iwillaskher.ButI

think thatMamawouldbeveryproud that shebelongs toyou.”Then,grinning, sheheldout thebagofpeaches.“Ihateasparagus,too.”

EsperanzaandHortensiawaitedinthedoctor’soffice.Hortensiasatandtappedherfoot,andEsperanzapaced,lookingatthediplomasonthewall.Finally,thedoorswungopenandthedoctorwalkedin,thenscootedbehindhisdeskandsatdown.“Esperanza,Ihavegoodnews,”hesaid.“Yourmother’shealthhasimprovedandshe’llbewellenough

toleavethehospitalinaweek.SheisstillalittledepressedbutIthinksheneedstobearoundallofyou.Pleaseremember,though,thatonceshegoeshome,shewillhavetoresttobuildupherstrength.Thereisstillachanceofarelapse.”Esperanzastartedlaughingandcryingatthesametime.Mamawascominghome!Forthefirsttimein

thefivemonthssinceMamahadenteredthehospital,Esperanza’sheartfeltlighter.Thedoctorsmiled.“Shehasbeenaskingforhercrochetneedlesandyarn.Youcanseehernowfora

fewminutesifyoulike.”EsperanzarandownthehospitalhallswithHortensiabehindhertoMama’sbedside,wheretheyfound

hersittingupinbed.Esperanzaflungherarmsaroundherneck.“Mama!”Mamahuggedher thenheldheratarm’s lengthandstudiedher.“Oh,Esperanza,howyou’vegrown.

Youlooksomature.”Mamastilllookedthinbutnotsoweak.Esperanzafeltherforeheadandtherewasnofever.Mamalaughedather.Itwasn’tastronglaughbutEsperanzalovedthesound.Hortensiapronouncedthathercolorwasgoodandpromisedtopurchasemoreyarnsothatitwouldbe

waitingwhenshecamehome.“Youwouldnotbelieveyourdaughter,Ramona.Shealwaysgetscalledtoworkinthesheds,shecooksnow,andtakescareofthebabiesaswellastheirownmother.”Mamareachedup,pulledEsperanzatoherchest,andhuggedher.“Iamsoproudofyou.”EsperanzahuggedMamaback.Whenthevisitinghourwasover,shehatedtoleavebutkissedMama

andsaidhergood-byes,promisingtotellhereverythingassoonasshecamehome.

AllweektheypreparedforMama’shomecoming.HortensiaandJosefinascrubbedthelittlecabinuntilitwasalmostantiseptic.Esperanzawashedall theblanketsandproppedthepillowsinthebed.JuanandAlfonsocushionedachairandseveralcratesunder theshade treesso thatMamacouldreclineoutsideduringthehotafternoons.OnSaturday, as soon asEsperanzahelpedMama from the truck, shewanted aquick tour ofPapa’s

rosesandshegotweepywhenshesawtheblooms.Visitorscameallafternoon,butHortensiawouldonlyletpeoplestayafewminutes,thensheshooedthemawayforfearMamawouldn’tgetherrest.Thatnight,IsabelshowedMamathedollandhowshewastakingcareofitandMamatoldherthatshe

thought Isabeland thedollbelonged together.When itwas timeforbed,Esperanzacarefully laydownnext to Mama, hoping she wouldn’t disturb her, but Mama moved closer and put her arms aroundEsperanza,andheldhertightly.“Mama,Miguelisgone,”shewhispered.“Iknow,mija.Hortensiatoldme.”“ButMama,itwasmyfault.Igotangryandtoldhimhewasstillapeasantandthenheleft.”“Itcouldnothavebeenallyourfault.I’msureheknowsyoudidn’tmeanit.He’llcomebacksoon.He

couldn’tbeawayfromhisfamilyforlong.”Theywerequiet.“Mama,we’vebeenawayfromAbuelitaforalmostayear,”saidEsperanza.“Iknow,”saidMamaquietly.“Itdoesnotseempossible.”“ButI’vesavedmoney.Wecanbringhersoon.Doyouwanttoseehowmuch?”BeforeMamacould

answer,Esperanzaturnedonthelight,checkingtomakesureshehadn’twokenIsabel.Shetiptoedtotheclosetandtookouthervalise.ShegrinnedatMama,knowinghowproudshewouldbeofallthemoneyorders.Sheopenedthebagandhermouthdroppedopen.Shecouldn’tbelievewhatshesaw.Shetippedthevaliseupsidedownandshookithard.Itwasempty.Themoneyordersweregone.

Miguelwas the only onewho could have taken themoneyorders.Noone doubted that.Alfonsoapologized toEsperanza, butMamagraciously said thatMiguelmust haveneeded themoney to get tonorthernCalifornia.Alfonsopromisedthemoneywouldbepaidback,onewayoranother,andEsperanzaknewitwouldbe,butshewasangrywithMiguel.Howdarehegointohervaliseandtakewhatwasnothis.Andafterallherhardwork.Mamaseemedtogetalittlestrongereveryday,althoughshestilltookmanynaps.Hortensiawashappy

thatshewaseatingwell,andeverydayEsperanzabroughthomejust-pickedfruittotempther.A fewweeks later, Esperanza stood on the shed dock in themorning andmarveled at the peaches,

plums,andnectarinesthatpouredintotheshed.“Howwillweeversortthemall?”sheasked.Josefinalaughed.“Onepieceatatime.Itgetsdone.”TheystartedwiththesmallwhiteclingstonepeachesandthenthelargeryellowElbertas.Mamaloved

thewhitepeachessoEsperanzasetasideabagforher.Thenafter lunch, theysorted theFlamingGoldnectarines.Laterthatafternoontheywouldstillhavetosortafewbushelsofplums.Esperanza loved the elephant-heart plums.Mottledgreenon theoutside andbloodredon the inside,

theyweretangyandsweetatthesametime.Shestoodinthemidsummersunduringherlunchbreakandateone,bentoversothejuicewouldn’trundownherchin.Josefinacalledtoher.“Mira,”shesaid.“Look.There’sAlfonso.Whatishedoinghere?”Alfonsowastalkingtooneofthesupervisors.Hehadneverleftthefieldsinthemiddleofthedayand

cometothesheds.“Somethingmustbewrong,”saidEsperanza.“Maybeitisthebabies?”saidJosefinaandshehurriedtowardhim.Esperanzacouldseethemtalkingandslowlybeganwalkingtowardthem,leavingthelineofwomen

andthestacksof lugsandplums.Shetried toreadfromJosefina’sexpressionswhethersomethingwaswrong.ThenJosefinaturnedtolookather.EsperanzafelttheblooddrainfromherfaceandshesuddenlyknewwhyAlfonsowashere.Ithadtobe

Mama.Thedoctorhadsaidshecouldhavearelapse.Somethingmusthavehappenedtoher.Esperanzasuddenlyfeltweakbutshekeptwalking.“IsitMama?”“No,no.Ididn’tmeantoalarmyou,Esperanza,butIneedyoutocomewithme.Hortensia is in the

truck.”“Butit’ssoearly.”“It’sokay,Italkedtothesupervisor.”She followedhim to the truck.Hortensiawaswaiting inside. “Wegot amessage fromMiguel,” she

said.“WearetomeethimatthebusstationinBakersfieldatthreeo’clock.HesaidheiscomingfromLosAngelesandthatweshouldbringyou.That’sallweknow.”“Butwhywouldhewantmetocome?”askedEsperanza.“Icanonlyhopethatit’stoapologizeforhisactions,”saidHortensia.It was over a hundred degrees. Hot wind whipped inside the cab. Esperanza felt the perspiration

slidingdownherskinbeneathherdress.Itfeltstrangetoberidingtotownonaworkday,breakingherroutine in the sheds. She kept thinking of all the elephant hearts that the others would have to packshorthanded.Hortensiasqueezedherhand.“Ican’twaittoseehim,”shesaid.Esperanzaofferedatightsmile.They arrived at the bus station and sat on a bench in front. The clerks all spoke to one another in

English, their hard, sharpwordsmeaning nothing toEsperanza. It always startled herwhen she heardEnglishandshehatednotknowingwhatpeopleweresaying.Somedayshewouldlearnit.Shestrainedtoheareachannouncementthatwasmade,finallyhearingthewordsshewaswaitingfor,“LosAngeles.”Asilverbusturnedthecornerandpulledintothebayinfrontofthestation.Esperanzasearchedthrough

thepassengersseatedonthebusbutcouldn’tseeMiguel.SheandHortensiaandAlfonsostoodupandwatched everyone get off.And then, finally, therewasMiguel standing in the doorwayof the bus.Helookedtiredandrumpledbutwhenhesawhisparents,hejumpedfromthesteps,grabbinghismotherandhuggingher,thenhisfather,clappinghimontheback.HelookedatEsperanzaandsmiled.“Ihavebroughtyouproofthatthingswillgetbetter,”hesaid.Shelookedathim,tryingtobeangry.Shedidn’twanthimtothinkshewasgladtoseehim.“Didyou

bringbackwhatyouhavestolen?”“No,butIbroughtyousomethingbetter.”Thenhe turned tohelp the lastpassenger fromthebus,asmall,olderwoman trying togetdown the

steepsteps.Thesun,reflectingofftheshinybus,glintedinEsperanza’seyes.Sheshadedthemwithherhand,tryingtoimaginewhatMiguelwastalkingabout.Foramoment,shesawunfantasma,aghostofAbuelitawalkingtowardher,withonearmreachingout

toherandtheotherpressingonawoodencane.“Esperanza,”saidtheghost.SheheardHortensiasuckinherbreath.Suddenly,Esperanzaknewthathereyeswerenotdeceivingher.Herthroattightenedandshefeltasif

shecouldn’tmove.Abuelitacamecloser.Shewassmallandwrinkled,withwispsofwhitehairfallingoutofherbunat

the back of her head. Her clothes looked mussed from travel, but she had her same white lacehandkerchieftuckedintothesleeveofherdressandhereyesbrimmedwithtears.Esperanzatriedtosayher name but couldn’t. Her throatwas cramping from her emotions. She could only reach out for her

grandmotherandburyherheadinthefamiliarsmelloffacepowder,garlic,andpeppermint.“Abuelita,Abuelita!”shecried.“Aquíestoy.Iamhere,minieta.HowIhavemissedyou.”Esperanzarockedherbackandforth,daringtobelievethatitwastrue,lookingatherthroughtearsto

makesureshewasnotdreaming.Andlaughingfinally.Laughingandsmilingandholdingherhands.ThenHortensiaandAlfonsotooktheirturns.EsperanzalookedatMiguel.“How?”sheasked.“IneededtohavesomethingtodowhileIwaitedforwork.SoIwentforher.”After theypulled intocamp, theyescortedAbuelita into theircabinwhere theyfoundJosefina,Juan,

andthebabieswaiting.“Josefina,where’sMama?”“Itwaswarmsowesettledherintheshade.Shefellasleep.Isabelissittingwithher.Iseverythingall

right?”Hortensia introducedAbuelita to Juanand Josefina,whose faces litup.Esperanza thenwatchedher

grandmother lookaround the tiny room thatnowheldpiecesof theirnew life. Isabel’spictureson thewall,abowlofpeachesonthetable,thebabies’toysunderfoot,Papa’srosesinacoffeecan.EsperanzawonderedwhatAbuelitathoughtofthesadconditions,butshejustsmiledandsaid,“Pleasetakemetomydaughter.”Esperanza tookAbuelita’s hand and led her toward the trees. She could seeMama reclining in the

shadenearthewoodentable.Aquiltwasspreadonthegroundnearbywherethebabiesusuallyplayed.Isabel was running back from the vineyard, her hands full of wildflowers and grapevines. She sawEsperanzaandrantowardherandAbuelita.Isabelstoppedinfrontofthem,herfaceflushedandsmiling.“Isabel,thisisAbuelita.”Isabel’s eyeswidened andhermouthpoppedopen in surprise. “Doyou reallywalkbarefoot in the

grapesandcarrysmoothstonesinyourpockets?”Abuelitalaughed,reacheddeepintothepocketofherdress,pulledoutaflat,slickstoneandgaveitto

Isabel.Shelookedatitinamazement,thenhandedAbuelitathewildflowers.“IthinkyouandIwillbegoodfriends,Isabel,yes?”IsabelnoddedandsteppedasidesoAbuelitacouldgotoherdaughter.TherewasnowaytoprepareMama.Esperanza watched Abuelita walk to whereMama slept, resting on the makeshift lounge. She was

framedbythevineyard,thegrapesripeandreadytodrop.AbuelitastoppedafewfeetfromMamaandlookedather.A stack of lace carpetas was at Mama’s side as well as her crochet needle and thread. Abuelita

reachedoutandstrokedherhair,gentlypullingtheloosestrandsawayfromMama’sfaceandsmoothingthemagainstherhead.Softly,Abuelitasaid,“Ramona.”Mamadidnotopenhereyes,butsaidasifshewasdreaming,“Esperanza,isthatyou?”“No,Ramona,itisme,Abuelita.”Mamaslowlyopenedhereyes.ShestaredatAbuelitawithnoreaction,asifshewasnotreallyseeing

heratall.Thensheliftedherhandandreachedouttotouchhermother’sface,makingsurethatthevisionwastrue.Abuelitanodded,“Yes,itisme.Ihavecome.”AbuelitaandMamautterednowordsthatanyonecouldunderstand.Itwastheirownlanguageofhappy

exclamations and overwhelming emotions. Esperanzawatched them cry and shewondered if her ownheartwouldburstfromsomuchjoy.“Oh,Esperanza!”saidIsabel,jumpingupanddownandclapping.“Ithinkmyheartisdancing.”Esperanzabarelychokedoutthewhisper,“Mine,too.”ThenshepickedupIsabelandspunheraround

inherarms.MamawouldnotletgoofAbuelita.ShescootedoverandmadeAbuelitasitnexttoherandheldonto

herarmsasifshemightdisappear.Suddenly,Esperanzarememberedherpromise,ranbacktothecabinandreturned,carryingsomething

inherarms.“Esperanza,”saidAbuelita,“Couldthatpossiblybemyblanket?Didyoufinishit?”“Notyet,”shesaid,unfoldingtheblanket.Mamaheldoneend,andEsperanzapulledtheotherend.It

reachedfromthechinaberrytreetothemulberry.Itcouldhavecoveredthreebeds.Theyalllaughed.Theyarnwasstillconnected,waitingforthelastrowtobefinished.Theyallgatheredonthequiltandatthetable.Esperanzasatdownandpulledthemassiveblanketnext

toher,tooktheneedle,andbegancrochetingthefinalstitches.WhenMamacouldfinallyspeak,shelookedatAbuelitaandaskedthesamethingEsperanzahadasked,

“Howdidyougethere?”“Miguel,” saidAbuelita. “He came forme. Luis andMarco have been impossible. If Iwent to the

market, one of their spieswould followme. I think they thought youwere still in the area andwouldeventuallycomebackforme.”Tenstitchesuptothetopofthemountain.EsperanzalistenedtoAbuelitatellMamaabouthowinfuriatedTíoLuishadbeenwhenhefoundout

theyweregone.He’dbecomeobsessedwithfindingthemandquestionedalloftheirneighbors,includingSeñorRodríguez.Theyhadevencometotheconventtoquestionhersisters.Butnoonetoldhimanything.Addonestitch.A fewmonths after they left, she’d had a premonition that something was wrong withMama. The

feelingwouldnotletgoofhersoshelitcandleseverydayformonthsandprayedfortheirsafety.Ninestitchesdowntothebottomofthevalley.Thenoneday,whenshehadalmostgivenuphope,shefoundaninjuredbirdinthegardenthatshedid

notthinkwouldflyagain,butthenextmorningwhensheapproachedit, thebirdliftedintothesky.Sheknewitwasasignthatwhateverhadbeenwrong,wasbetter.Skiponestitch.Thenoneofthenunsbroughtheranotethatsomeonehadleftinthepoorboxaddressedtoher.Ithad

beenfromMiguel.Hesuspected thatAbuelitawasbeingwatchedsohedeliveredhisnotesafterdark,tellingherofhisplan.Tenstitchesuptothetopofthemountain.MiguelandSeñorRodríguezcameinthemiddleofthenightandtookhertothetrainstation.Itwasall

veryexciting.AndMigueldidn’t leavehersideonceduring theentire trip.Hebroughtherall thewayhere.Addonestitch.HesaidthatRamonaandEsperanzaneededher.“Hewasright,”saidMama,hereyestearyagain,gratefullylookingatMiguel.Mountainsandvalleys.Mountainsandvalleys.Somanyofthem,thoughtEsperanza.Whenastrandof

herhairfell intoherlap,shepickeditupandwoveit intotheblanket,sothatallof thehappinessandemotionshefeltatthismomentwouldgowithitforever.WhenEsperanzatoldAbuelitatheirstory,aboutallthathadhappenedtothem,shedidn’tmeasuretime

bytheusualseasons.Instead,shetolditasafield-worker,inspansoffruitsandvegetablesandbywhatneededtobedonetotheland.Theyhadarrivedinthevalleyattheendofthegrapes:Thompsonseedless,RedMalagas,andtheblue-

blackRibiers.Mamabreathedinthedustattheendofthegrapesandthat’swhenshegotsick.Thenithadbeentimetoprunethegrapesandgetreadyforpotatoes.Workingpotatoeswastheheartofwinterandthecoldthatdampenedthebones.Andduringpotatoeyes,Mamahadgonetothehospital.Therehadbeennomonthswith names, only the time of tying canes amidst the ghosts of grapes and gray days that neverwarmed. But afterward came the anticipation of spring and a valley pregnant with needs: gracefulasparagus,ripeningvineyards,andgroaningtrees.Thenearlypeachescalled,cricketsinthefieldsstartedtheir nightly symphonies, andMama came home.Abuelita arrived during plums.And now, the grapesweredeliveringanotherharvestandEsperanzawasturninganotheryear.

A fewdays before her birthday,Esperanza beggedMiguel to drive her to the foothills before sunrise.Therewassomethingshewantedtodo.Shewokeinthedarkandtiptoedfromthecabin.

Theyfollowedthedirtroadthatheadedeastandparkedwhentheycouldgonofarther.Inthegraylight,theycouldseeasmallfootpathtoaplateau.Whentheygottothetop,Esperanzalookedoutoverthevalley.Thecool,almost-morningairfilledher

senses.Below,shecouldseethewhiteroofsofthecabinsinstraightrows,thefieldsbeginningtotakeform,andovertheeasternmountains,ahopefulbrightening.Shebentoverandtouchedthegrass.Itwascoolbutdry.Shelaydownonherstomachandpattedthe

groundnexttoher.“Miguel,didyouknowthatifyoulieonthegroundandstayverystill,youcanfeeltheearth’sheartbeating?”Helookedatherskeptically.Shepattedthegroundagain.Thenhelaydownasshewas,facingher.“Willthishappensoon,Esperanza?”“Aguántate tantitoy la frutacaeráen tumano.Wait a littlewhile and the fruitwill fall intoyour

hand.”Hesmiledandnodded.Theywerestill.ShewatchedMiguelwatchingher.Andthenshefeltit.Beginningsoftly.Agentlethumping,repeatingitself.Thenstronger.Sheheardit,

too.Shoomp.Shoomp.Shoomp.Theearth’sheartbeat.JustlikeshehadfeltitthatdaywithPapa.Miguelsmiledandsheknewthathefeltit,too.Thesunpeekedovertherimofadistantridge,burstingthedawnontothewaitingfields.Shefeltits

warmthwashingoverherand turnedonherbackand faced thesky, staring into thecloudsnow tingedwithpinkandorange.As the sun rose,Esperanza began to feel as if she rosewith it. Floating again, like that day on the

mountain,whenshefirstarrivedinthevalley.Sheclosedhereyes,andthistimeshedidnotcareenoutofcontrol.Instead,sheglidedabovetheearth,unafraid.Sheletherselfbeliftedintothesky,andsheknewthatshewouldnotslipaway.SheknewthatshewouldneverlosePapaorElRanchodelasRosas,orAbuelitaorMama,nomatterwhathappened.ItwasasCarmen,theeggwoman,hadsaidonthetrain.Shehadherfamily,agardenfullofroses,herfaith,andthememoriesofthosewhohadgonebeforeher.Butnow,shehadevenmorethanthat,anditcarriedherup,asonthewingsofthephoenix.Shesoaredwiththeanticipationofdreamssheneverknewshecouldhave,oflearningEnglish,ofsupportingherfamily,ofsomedaybuyingatinyhouse.Miguelhadbeenrightaboutnevergivingup,andshehadbeenright, too,aboutrisingabovethosewhoheldthemdown.Shehoveredhighabovethevalley, itsbasinsurroundedbythemountains.SheswoopedoverPapa’s

roseblooms,buoyedbyrosehipsthatrememberedallthebeautytheyhadseen.ShewavedatIsabelandAbuelita,walking barefoot in the vineyards,wearing grapevinewreaths in their hair. She sawMama,

sittingonablanket,acacophonyofcolor thatcoveredanacre inzigzagrows.ShesawMartaandhermotherwalkinginanalmondgrove,holdinghands.Thensheflewoverariver,athrustingtorrentthatcutthroughthemountains.Andthere,inthemiddleofthewilderness,wasagirlinabluesilkdressandaboywithhishair slickeddown, eatingmangoesona stick, carved to look likeexotic flowers, sittingonagrassybank,onthesamesideoftheriver.Esperanza reached forMiguel’shandand found it, andeven thoughhermindwassoaring to infinite

possibilities,histouchheldherhearttotheearth.

“EstassonlasmañanitasquecantabaelReyDavidalasmuchachasbonitas;selascantamosaquí.Despierta,mibien,despierta.Miraqueyaamaneció.Yalospajaritoscantan,lalunayasemetió.ThesearethemorningsongswhichKingDavidusedtosingtoalltheprettygirls;wesingthemheretoyou.Awake,mybeloved,awake.See,itisalreadydawn.Thebirdsarealreadysinging,themoonhasalreadygone.”

On themorning of her birthday, Esperanza heard the voices coming from outside her window. ShecouldpickoutMiguel’s,Alfonso’s,andJuan’s.Shesatup inbedand listened.Andsmiled.Esperanzaliftedthecurtain.Isabelcameovertoherbedandlookedoutwithher,clutchingherdoll.Theybothblewkissestothemenwhosangthebirthdaysong.ThenEsperanzawavedtheminside,nottoopengifts,butbecauseshecouldalreadysmellcoffeecomingfromthekitchen.Theygatheredforbreakfast:MamaandAbuelita,HortensiaandAlfonso,JosefinaandJuan,thebabies

andIsabel.IreneandMelinacame,too,withtheirfamily.AndMiguel.Itwasn’texactlylikethebirthdaysofherpast.But itwouldstillbeacelebration,under themulberryandchinaberry trees,withnewbornrosebudsfromPapa’sgarden.Althoughtherewerenopapayas,therewascantaloupe,lime,andcoconutsalad.Andmachacaburritos toppedwith lotsof laughterand teasing.At theendof themeal,Josefinabroughtoutaflandealmendras,Esperanza’sfavorite,andtheysangthebirthdaysongtoheragain.Isabel sat next toAbuelita at thewooden table. They each held crochet hooks and a skein of yarn.

“Nowwatch,Isabel.Tenstitchesuptothetopofthemountain.”AbuelitademonstratedandIsabelcarefullycopiedhermovements.Theneedlerockedawkwardlyandattheendofherbeginningrows,Isabelheldupherworktoshow

Esperanza.“Mineisallcrooked!”Esperanzasmiledandreachedoverandgentlypulledtheyarn,unravelingtheunevenstitches.Thenshe

lookedintoIsabel’strustingeyesandsaid,“Donoteverbeafraidtostartover.”

Icanstillseemygrandmothercrochetingblanketsinzigzagrows.Shemadeoneforeachofhersevenchildren,manyofhertwenty-threegrandchildren(Iamtheeldestofthegrandchildren),andforthegreat-grandchildrenshelivedtosee.Mygrandmother,EsperanzaOrtega,wastheinspirationforthisbook.WhenIwasayounggirl,Grandmausedtotellmewhatherlifewaslikewhenshefirstcametothe

United States from Mexico. I had heard stories about the company farm camp where she lived andworked,andthelifelongfriendsshemadethere.Whenshetalkedaboutthosepeopleandhowtheyhadhelpedherthroughdesperate,tryingtimes,shesometimescriedatthememories.Itwasn’tuntilIhadchildrenofmyownthatmygrandmothertoldmeaboutherlifeinMexico,abouta

fairy-taleexistencewithservants,wealth,andgrandeur,whichhadprecededherlifeinthecompanyfarmcamp.Iwrotedownsomeofherrecollectionsfromherchildhood.HowIwishIhadwrittendownmorebeforeshediedbecauseIcouldneverstopwonderingabouthertransitionfromMexicotoCaliforniaandwhatitmusthavebeenlike.Eventually,Istartedtoimagineastorybasedonthegirlwhomighthavebeenher.This fictional story parallels her life in some ways. She was born and raised in Aguascalientes,

Mexico.HerfatherwasSixtoOrtegaandhermother,Ramona.TheylivedonElRanchodelaTrinidad(which I changed to El Rancho de las Rosas) and her uncles did hold prominent positions in thecommunity.Aseriesofcircumstances,includingherfather’sdeath,eventuallyforcedmygrandmothertoimmigrate to the United States to a company-owned farm labor camp in Arvin, California. UnlikeEsperanza in the story, my grandmother had already married my grandfather, JesúsMuñoz, when sheimmigrated to California. LikeMiguel, he had been her father’smechanic. In the segregatedMexicancamp,withmygrandfather, she livedmuch like the characters in the story. Shewashed her clothes incommunaltubs,wenttojamaicasonSaturdaynights,andcaredforherfirstthreedaughters.That’swheremymother,EsperanzaMuñoz,wasborn.During the early 1930s thereweremany strikes in theCalifornia agricultural fields.Often, growers

evicted the strikers from their labor camps, forcingmany to live together inmakeshift refugee camps,sometimesonfarmsontheoutskirtsoftowns.Thegrowerswerepowerfulandcouldsometimesinfluencelocal governments. In Kern County, sheriffs arrested picketers for obstructing traffic, even though theroadsweredeserted.InKingsCounty,oneMexicanmanwasarrestedforspeakingtoacrowdinSpanish.Sometimes the strikes failed, especially in areas that were flooded with people from states likeOklahoma, who were desperate for work at any wage. In other instances, the strong voices of manypeoplechangedsomeofthepitifulconditions.TheMexicanRepatriationwasveryrealandanoftenoverlookedpartofourhistory.InMarchof1929,

thefederalgovernmentpassedtheDeportationActthatgavecountiesthepowertosendgreatnumbersof

Mexicansback toMexico.Governmentofficials thought thiswouldsolve theunemploymentassociatedwiththeGreatDepression(itdidn’t).CountyofficialsinLosAngeles,California,organized“deportationtrains”andtheImmigrationBureaumade“sweeps”intheSanFernandoValleyandLosAngeles,arrestinganyone who lookedMexican, regardless of whether or not they were citizens or in the United Stateslegally.Many of those sent toMexicowere native-bornUnited States citizens and had never been toMexico.Thenumbers ofMexicansdeportedduring this so-called “voluntary repatriation”wasgreaterthan the Native American removals of the nineteenth century and greater than the Japanese-AmericanrelocationsduringWorldWarII. Itwas the largest involuntarymigration in theUnitedStatesup to thattime. Between 1929 and 1935 at least 450,000Mexicans andMexican Americans were sent back toMexico.Somehistoriansthinkthenumberswereclosertoamillion.Eventhoughmygrandmotherlivedinthiscountryforoverfiftyyears,Icanstillrememberherbreaking

outinnervousperspirationandtremblingasherpassportwascheckedattheborderwhenwereturnedtotheUnitedStatesfromashoppingtripinTijuana.Shealwayscarriedthefearthatshecouldbesentbackonawhim,eventhoughrepatriationhadlongbeenover.My father, Don Bell, came to California during the Dust Bowl from the Midwest and, ironically,

workedforthesamecompanyfarmwheremymotherwasborn.Bythattime,mygrandmotherhadmovedherfamilytoasmallhouseinBakersfieldat1030PStreet.MomandDadweren’tdestinedtomeetquiteyet.Dadwas twelveyearsoldwhenhepickedpotatoesduringWorldWar IIwith the“DiaperCrew,”children paid to pick the fields because of the great shortage ofworkers due to thewar.He says thechildrenweren’t always themost diligent employees and admits hemoreoften threwdirt clods at hisfriends than he picked potatoes.Later,when hewas sixteen, he spent a summerworking for the samefarm,drivingtrucksbackandforthfromthefieldsanddeliveringworkers.Muchofournation’sproducecomesfromthisoneareainCalifornia.Itishotinthesummerandcoldin

thewinter.Therearedust stormsand tule fogand somepeopledocontractValleyFever.Before Igotmarried, I took the required blood test in SanDiegowhere I had lived duringmy college years. Thedoctor calledbecauseof an “urgent finding”onmy lab results. Iworried that somethingdramatic hadbeenfound,untilthedoctorsaid,“YoutestedpositiveforValleyFever.”I letoutasighof relief. Igrewupseeing lugsofgrapesonkitchen tables. Ipickedplums,peaches,

apricots, nectarines, persimmons, almonds, walnuts, and pecans from backyard trees. Every year inAugust,Isawthegrapeslaiddownonthegroundtomakeraisinsthesamewaythey’vebeenmadeforgenerations.Lemons,tomatoes,orsquashappearedonourdoorstepfromneighbors’ormygrandmothers’gardens.I’dneverbeenconsciousofhavinganysymptomsofValleyFever.TheonlyfeverIrecollectedwasmyburningaffectionformybeginningsandbelongings.“OfcourseItestedpositive,”Isaidtothedoctor.“IgrewupintheSanJoaquinValley.”IknewthatI

hadbeennaturally immunized to the actualdiseasebymerely living there, from the air I hadbreathedgrowingup.

Myfamily’sfeelingsforthecompanycamparedeep-rootedandstillfilledwithloyaltyfortheirstartinthiscountryandforthejobstheyhadatatimewhensomanyhadnone.MostofthepeopleIinterviewedwholivedinthesamecampwithmygrandmotherheldnogrudgesagainsttheOklahomansorotherswhocompetedfortheirjobsatthattime.OnemanIinterviewedsaid,“Wewereallsopoor.TheOkies,theFilipinos, theywerepoor, too.Weallknewthefeelingofwanting toworkandfeedourfamilies.Thatwaswhyitwassohardforsomanyofustostrike.”WhenIaskedaboutprejudiceIwastold,“Suretherewasprejudice,horribleprejudice,butthat’show

thingswerethen.”Manystruggledjusttoputfoodonthetableandsometimesseemedtoberesignedtothesocialissuesof

the time. They focused only on survival and put their hopes and dreams into their children’s andgrandchildren’sfutures.That’swhatGrandmadid.Shesurvived.AllofherchildrenlearnedEnglishandsodidshe.Someof

herchildrenwenttocollege.Onebecameaprofessionalathlete,anotheramemberoftheUnitedStatesForeignService;othersbecamesecretaries,awriter,anaccountant.Andhergrandchildren:newscasters,socialworkers,florists,teachers,filmeditors,lawyers,smallbusinessowners,andanotherwriter:me.Ouraccomplishmentswereheraccomplishments.Shewishedthebestforallofusandrarelylooked

backonthedifficultiesofherownlife.ItisnowonderthatinSpanish,esperanzameans“hope.”

AbouttheAuthor

PamMuñozRyanwasbornand raised inCalifornia’sSanJoaquin (pronouncedwah-keen)Valley.Shegrew up with many of her aunts and uncles and her grandparents nearby and considers herself trulyAmericanbecauseherculturalbackgroundisanethnicsmorgasbord.SheisSpanish,Mexican,Basque,Italian,andOklahoman.Asakid,Pamspentmanylong,hotvalleysummersridingherbiketothepubliclibrary.Itbecameher

favoritehangoutbecauseher familydidn’thavea swimmingpooland the librarywasair-conditioned!That’showshegothookedonreadingandbooks.Whenshewasn’treadingsheusuallycouldbefounddaydreamingorputtingonplaysinherbackyard.Pam didn’t always know she wanted to be a writer. Before graduating from college she was a

babysitter,anexerciseinstructor,asalesgirlinabridalstore,acashieratahardwarestore,asecretary,anda teacher’s assistant.After college, sheknew that shewanteda job thathad something todowithbooks,soshebecameateacher.SheworkedasabilingualHeadStartteacherinEscondido,California.AfterPamwasmarriedandhadfourchildren,shewentbacktoschool togethermaster’sdegreein

education.Oneday,outoftheblue,aprofessoraskedifshe’deverthoughtaboutwritingprofessionally.Then,aboutthreeweekslater,acolleagueaskedifPamwouldhelpherwriteabook.Beforethatpoint,Pamhadneverconsideredwritingasacareer.After that, shecouldn’t stop thinkingabout it and that’swhenshefinallyknewwhatshereallywantedtodo.Pamisalsotheauthoroftheaward-winningnovelsRidingFreedom,withdrawingsbyBrianSelznick,

andBecomingNaomiLeón,aswellasnumerouspicturebooksincludingMiceandBeans,illustratedbyJoeCepeda,andAmeliaandEleanorGoforaRideandWhenMarianSang,both illustratedbyBrianSelznick.FormoreinformationaboutPamMuñozRyan,youcanvisitherWebsiteat:www.pammunozryan.com.

Q&AwithPamMuñozRyan

Q:Whatdidyouwanttobewhenyougrewup?A: Iwanted tobe theboss.Athome Iwas theoldest of three sisters, andnext door tous there livedanotherthreegirls,allyoungerthanme,too.Wheneverweplayedtogether,Iwasinchargeofwhatwedid.Iwasthedirectoroftheplay,theconductorofthetrain,theMominapretendfamily,ortheheroinewhosavedtheday.Iwasalsotheoldestofthetwenty-threecousinsonmymother’ssideofthefamily.Whenwe had a get-together atmy grandmother’s house, Iwas the self-appointed coordinator again. Iwouldsay,“Let’spretendthisisacircusoraschoolorajungle.”ThenIwouldtelleveryonewhattodoandwhattosay.Ididn’tknowitatthetime,butIwasalreadycreatingstorieswithacastofcharacters.

Q:Haveyoualwaysbeenawriter,evenasachild?A: As a schoolgirl, I never kept a journal, made a book in class, or had an author visit my school.Curriculumwasdifferent thenand Ineverknew thatanauthorwassomething Icouldbe someday.So,whenstudentsaskme,“Didyouwriteasachild?” theanswer is,notexactly.But Icould imagine justaboutanything.Iwasabenevolentqueen,anexplorer,oradoctorsavingpeoplefromprecariousdeaths.Itneveroccurredtometowriteastoryonpaper,butIpretendedmany,rightinmyownbackyard.Also,Icomefromafamilythatlikestotalk.Itwasn’tunusualtositaroundafterabigSaturdaymiddaymealand“visit”forhours,tellingstories.Thiswasallagreatfoundationforwriting.

Q:Asachild,whattypesofbooksdidyouread?A:Idon’trememberallofthebooksIreadasachildbutsomearememorable.IreadtheLittleHouseonthe Prairie books. I read (and reread) Sue Barton, Student Nurse and other series-type stories. IrememberreadingTreasureIsland,TheSwissFamilyRobinson,andGonewiththeWindinjuniorhighschool.

Q:Howwouldyoudescribeyourbooks?A: Iwritebooksaboutdreams,discoveries,anddaringwomen. Iwriteshort storiesabouthard times,picture books about mice and beans, and novels about journeys. I write fiction, nonfiction, historicalfiction, andmagical realism. That’s part of the enchantment of writing and creating characters— thevariety.ThemostwonderfulthingaboutbeingawriterhasbeenthatIcan“tryon”manylivesthatmightbe different from my own. Part of the appeal of writing (and reading, too) is the well of strengths,weaknesses,andidiosyncrasiesthatIcansampleandthenkeep,discard,orconsiderformycharacters,andultimatelyformyself.

Q:ThegirlsandwomeninEsperanzaRisingarestrong-mindedandvibrant,andtheirbondsarethethreadsthatbindthestory.Howdoesthisreflectyourownexperiences?Whatwomen—personallyorhistorically—haveinspiredyouthemost?A:Itiseasytoseehowmyfamily,especiallymygrandmother,influencedmywriting.Icomefromaverymatriarchalfamilywithmygrandmotheratthehelm.EsperanzaRisingisbasedonherimmigrationstory.PerhapstherecurringthemeoffeministdeterminationhaditsimpetusinmyfamilyhistorybecauseIdoseeminterestedinstorieswherethecharactersucceedsdespitecircumstancesthatsocietystackedagainsther. The quirky, preoccupied Rosa Maria in my picture bookMice and Beans is also based on mygrandmother.Ironically,JoeCepedaagreedtoillustratethebookbecausehethoughtthegrandmotherinthestorywassomuchlikehismother.CertainlynotallMexicangrandmothersarelikethischaracter,butIthinkthereisacertainHispanicveritythatiscapturedwithinthesestories—anadorationofchildren,bigfamilycelebrations,proverbstoliveby,andofcourse,food.ThewomenwhohaveinspiredmearetheonesaboutwhomIhavewritten:CharlotteParkhurst,AmeliaEarhart,EleanorRoosevelt,andmyowngrandmother.

Q:WhydidyounamethechaptersinEsperanzaRisingafterfruitsandvegetables?A:Thatwasn’tsomethingthatcameaboutearlyintheplanningofthebook.Itcameaboutlater.IstartedtofeelthatEsperanza’slifewastakingontherhythmoftheharvest,soIcalledmyeditorandsaid,“WhatifInamedthechaptersaftertheharvestthatshe’sexperiencingineachchapter?”ShesaidIshouldgiveitatry,anditworked.ThenIwentbackandreworkedthechaptersalittletopullthatthreadalittletighterandtomakethosechapterheadingsmoresymbolic.

Q:Howdidyoulearnaboutlifeinthecompanycamps?Diditrequirealotofresearch?A:Ilearnedaboutthecampsfrommygrandmotherwhenshewasalive.ButIbeganthisbookmanyyearsafter she died, so of course when I startedwriting, I hadmany detailed questions to which I neededanswers.Didtheyhaveelectricityinthecabins?Werethecabinswoodandplasterorjustwoodwalls?Did they use gas stoves or wood stoves? How many rooms did the cabins have? Did people plantgardens? Did they go to town for church or did a priest come to the camp? What did they do forentertainment?Howdidpeoplefeelaboutstriking?Andonandon.Aftermanyphonecalls,IfoundJessMarquez who moved to the camp when he was eleven years old. He lived there for five years andactuallyrememberedmygrandmotherandherfamily.Severalmembersofmyfamilyhadworkedintheshedssothat’showIgotthatinformation,andoneofmyauntstoldmeaboutpotatoeyesbecauseshehadcutpotatoeyesforseveralyears.WhenIcamehometoBakersfieldwhileIwasworkingonthebook,mydaddrovemeouttotheactualsiteoftheshedsandtherailroadtracks.Ididn’thavetoresearchthelandortheareabecauseIgrewupthereandwewenttoLamontandArvinalmosteverySaturdayduringmy

childhood.

Q:Martaisapassionategirlwhobelievesinfightingforhercauses.Isshemodeledaftersomeoneyouknoworadmire?A:No,atleastnotconsciously.Martacametomefullyrealizedwithallofherdeterminationandvigor.IneededacharactertoantagonizeEsperanza,togoadhertowardsgrowth,andMartasimplywalkedintomymindandsaid,“Putmeonpaper!”

Q:Yourcharactersseesigns ineverydaylife:Esperanzapricksher fingerandworries itwillbringbadluck;Abuelitaseesaninjuredbird’sflightasasignthateverythingisokay.Doyoubelieveinandseethesekindsofsignsinyourlife?A:Ithinkthatthecoincidencesweexperienceinoureverydaylifesometimeshavemeaning.Howmuchimportanceapersongivesthesesignshastodowithherownpersonalbeliefs.Oursubconsciousisfarmoredevelopedthanwethink.We’veallhad“gutfeelings”orhavedone“whatourhearttellsus.”Wehaveassimilatedmanysubconsciouscuesandtrustedourselvestomakedecisionsbasedonthosecues.Sometimesa“sign”simplyvalidateswhatwealreadyknowtobemostlikelytrue.

Q:Whatadvicedoyouhaveforyoungpeoplewhoareinterestedinwritingorfindingoutabouttheirownculturalbackgroundandfamilyhistory?A:Well,theobvious,ofcourse,istointerviewyourgrandparentsandparents.Ithinkthatoneofthebestways is to keep things. Keep old photos, save date books and calendarswhere you’vewritten downevents.Ifyouknowthatyourfamilyisfromaparticulartowninanothercountryorthiscountry,goontheweb and find out about the town. Look at family picture albums or home videos to solidify yourmemories. Be curious and ask questions so that you store up lots of memories. That way, thoserecollectionswillbetherewhenyou’rereadytoreflectorwriteaboutthem,ifyou’resoinclined.

Q:Whatdoyoudowhenyou’renotwriting?Doyoucrochet?A:Iread,goforwalks,gotothemovies,andgettogetherwithfriendsandfamily.Idonormalthingslikeshoppingforgroceriesandpayingbills.Idocrochetbutit’susuallysimplethingslikescarvesorbabyblanketsforagiftforsomeone.

Q:Doyouhaveafavoriteobjectinyourhouse?Whatisitandwhatmakesitspecial?A:Mydadrestoresoldtrunks—theantiquesteamertypeoftrunks.Hetakesthemapart,piecebypiece,polishes,paints,andlinesthemwithcedarandold-fashionedwallpaper.They’respectacular.Ihavefour

inmyhomeandallofmychildrenhavetheirown.Whatmakesthemspecialisthetimeheputintothemforus.

Q:Doyouhaveawritingroutine?Ifso,whataresomeofyourwritinghabits?A:WhenI’mworkingonabook,especiallyanovel,I’llgetupearly,makecoffee,eatbreakfast,andheadstraightforthecomputer.Myofficeisinanextrabedroomofourhome.I’lloftenworkstraightthroughuntilabout2:00,withseveraltripstothekitchenforsnacksanddrinks.Ialwaysfeelmorecreativeandenergetic during the early part of the day and feel less so in the afternoons. I’m definitely amorningperson. Ihearotherauthors talkaboutstayingupuntil2:00or3:00 in themorningandIcan’t imaginedoing that. I almost always take a walk at some point during the day, either at the beach or in theneighborhood.

Q:Wheredoyourideascomefrom?A:Ideascomefromaconfluenceofriversthatmeetinaroilingwhitewaterinmymind.

MakeYourOwnJamaicaFlowerPunch(HibiscusFlowerPunch)

RecipefromPamMuñozRyan

Ingredients30 single red hibiscus blooms, rinsed well. (If you can’t find hibiscus flowers, try using 6 hibiscus

flavoredteateabags)½oz.freshgingerroot(rinsed,patteddry,andthengrated)3quartsofwaterjuicefrom6limessugarforsweetening

Boilthegingerinonequartofwaterforabout2minutes.Addthehibiscusblooms(orteabags),removefromheatandcover.When the liquid iscool, strain it intoapitcheror largebowl.Add the remainingwaterandlimejuice.Sweetentosuityourtaste.Chillandserve.

MakingMama’sYarnDoll

Mamamadeayarndollforthechildonthetrain(muchtoEsperanza’schagrinatthetime).Youcancreateone,too!You’llneedaballofyarn, scissors,a ruler,andabook(at least thesizeof thisone,nosmaller) to

wraptheyarnaround.

1.Cut712"-longpiecesofyarnandsetthemaside.You’llusetheselater.

2.Holdingtheballofyarninonehandandthebookintheother,wraptheyarnaroundthebookfromtoptobottom50times.Thencuttheyarntoseparateitfromtheball.

3.Useoneofthe12"piecesofyarnandplaceitbetweenthebookandtheyarn.(Imagineyouareputtingtheyarnthroughthecenterofadoughnut.)Tightlytietogetherthe50strandsofyarnwrappedaroundthebook.

4.Pulltheyarnoffthebook.Holdtheyarnloopsothetieisatthetop.Thiswillbethetopofyourdoll’shead.Tieanother12"pieceofyarnaninchortwobelowthefirstone,gatheringall100strandsofyarntocreatearoundhead.Tieittightlywithadoubleknot.

5.Cuttheyarnloopsapartattheendoppositethehead.Thesestrandsofyarnwillbeusedtomakethedoll’sbodyandlimbs.

6.Separatetheyarnbelowtheheadintothreesections—twoarms(12strandseach)andthetorso(26strands).Tiea12"pieceofyarnaroundthemiddlesection,2inchesbelowthehead,toformthedoll’storso.Remembertoleavethearmsfree.

7.Separatethebottomyarnbelowthetorsointotwolegs.Braideacharmandlegandusethe4remaining12"piecesofyarntotieateachend.Leaveatleastaninchoflooseyarnattheendsashandsandfeet.Trimanystrayyarn.

Nowyouryarndolliscomplete!

ThoseFamiliarSayings

Esperanza’sfathersaystoher,“Aguántatetantitoylafrutacaeráentumano.Waitalittlewhileandthefruit will fall into your hand.” This is a proverb, a saying that guides or advises.Most proverbs arepasseddownverbally,andtheoriginsofmanyproverbsareunknown.Almosteverycultureandcountryhasproverbsorsayingsthatareusedonaregularbasis.Haveyoueverheard:“Peopleinglasshousesshouldn’tthrowstones”or“Likefather,likeson”?Theseareproverbs,too.PamMuñozRyanoffersafewMexican proverbs at the beginning of this book, and below is an additional sampling fromMexicanSayings:TheTreasureofaPeoplebyOctavioA.Ballesteros,Ed.D.andMaríadelCarmenBallesteros,M.Ed.WhetheryourfamilyisfromAguascalientes,Mexico,orFlorence,Italy,orTulsa,Oklahoma,thereare probably proverbs to be found, considered, and talked about. Some may be funny, others morethoughtful.Whatproverbsdoyouknow?

Nohayrosasinespinas.Thereisnotarosewithoutthorns.

Quienadelantenomira,atrássequeda.Thepersonwhodoesnotlookaheadstaysbehind.

Elsabiomudaconsejo,elnecio,no.Thewisemanchangeshisopinion,thefoolishmandoesnot.

WhatStoryDoYouHavetoTell?

Even though Pam Muñoz Ryan was born and raised in the San Joaquin Valley, the same place hercharacterEsperanzamigratesto,itisn’twhereherstorybegins.Pam’slife,likeEsperanza’s,wasshapedby thosewho came before her.Asmembers of a family—big or small—our stories startwith thehistoryofourparentsandgrandparentsandgreat-grandparents.EsperanzatraveledfromMexicotoSouthernCaliforniaandAbuelitafromSpaintoMexico.Ifyoulook

atamapyoucantracktheirjourneysandseeforyourselfthedistancestheytraveled.Didyourfamily’sstorystartinanothercountry,state,ortown?Talktoyourparentsorgrandparents,learnwherethey(andyou)comefrom,andtrackyourownfamily’sjourney.Andwhileyou’vegotyour family talking, reminiscing, and remembering, ask them to tellyouabout

theirexperiences(maybeeventakenotes!).ThenjustasPamMuñozRyandid,buildonthatinformation—investigateyourfamily,findoldfamilyphotographs,hoponthewebtodiguptidbitsaboutthecitiesortownswherefamilymembershavelived.Andwhenyouhavevariouspiecestoplaywith,begintotellyourstory.

Turnthepageforasneakpeekatanotheraward-winningnovelbyPamMuñozRyan!

FromBecomingNaomiLeónbyPamMuñozRyan

arabbleofyesterdays

Ialwaysthoughtthebiggestprobleminmylifewasmyname,NaomiSoledadLeónOutlaw,butlittle

didIknowthatitwastheleastofmytroubles,orthatsomedayIwouldliveuptoit.

IthadbeenadoublemonthofSundayssinceGram,Owen,andIwereknittedtogethersnugasanew

mitten.Icanpointastick,though,attheexacteveningwestartedtounravel,attheprecisemoment

when I felt like that dog in an old Saturdaymorning cartoon. The onewhere themuttwears a big

woolysweaterandafoxrunsupandpullsahanging-downpieceofyarn.Thenthefoxracesoffwith

it,undoingthetidystitchesonebyone.Prettysoonthepoordogisbaretoitsskin,shivering,andall

thathadkeptitwarmisnothingmorethanabedraggledstring.

apaddlingofducks

Therewewere,mindingourliveswiththesameobedienceasaclockticking.Afewweeksearlierthesunhadswitched to itswinterbedtime, soeven though itwasearlyevening, theskywasdarkaspinepitch.ThatmeantthatGram,Owen,andIcouldn’tsitoutsideonthewhiterockpatio.Insteadwehadtocrowd around the drop-down table in the living room/kitchen of Baby Beluga. That was what GramcalledourAirstreamtrailer.Shewastheabsoluteexpertatcallingthingswhattheyresembledandthoughtitlookedlikeaminiaturewhalenexttoallthedouble-widesatAvocadoAcresTrailerRancho.Thetrailerparkwascalledthisbecauseitwassurroundedonthreesidesbythelargestavocadoranch

inLemonTree,California.ThenameLemonTreedidnotappealtoGram’ssenseofdescriptionbecause,asshepointedout,therewasn’tastickofcitrusinsight.AgiantplasticlemondidsitonapedestalattheSpray’nPlay,acombinationcarwash–deli–playgroundandoneofourfavoriteplaces.ThatlemonwasatributetothefactthatthereusedtobefruitorchardsinSanDiegoCounty,beforethebuilderscameandputahouseoneveryscratchofsparedirt.Exceptfortheavocadogrove,whichwassmackinthemiddleoftownandthelastcountrifiedlandinLemonTree.Wehad already put away the dinner dishes fromWednesday chicken bake andOwen started racing

throughhissecond-gradehomeworklikeahorseonatear.Peoplewereusuallyfooledbyhislooksandthoughthewaslowinschoolduetobeingbornwithhisheadtiltedtoonesideandscruncheddownnexttohisshoulder.IthadstraightenedalittleafterthreesurgeriesatChildren’sHospital,buthestilltalkedwithapermanentfrogvoicebecauseofsomethinginsidebeingpinched.Oneofhislegswasshorterthantheothersohewalkedlikearockinghorse,butotherthanthat,hewasjustfine.Contrarytopeople’sfirstopinions,hegotthebestgradesinhisclass.Gram, inherusualpolyesterpantsuitandrunningshoes,wasdoingherweeklyhairset, rollingwhat

littlebluehairshehadonthosenewbristlecurlersthatrequirenohairpins.(Iwasnotbeingmeanaboutherhair.Itreallylookedblueinthesunlight.)AndImulledovermysorrysituationatschool,whichwasthreeboysinmyfifth-gradeclasswhohaddecidedthatOutlawwasthefunniestlastnameintheuniverse.Theydidnotgivemeanounceofpeace.“Haveyourobbedanybankslately?”wasoneoftheirfavoritesayings,alongwithjumpingoutatme,

throwingtheirarmsintheair,andyelling,“Isthisastickup?”Myteacher,Ms.Morimoto,saidtoignorethem,butIhadtriedanditdidnogood.Iwasfedup,soI

wasmakingalistofwhatIcouldsaybacktothemthatmightbeembarrassing.Iwroteacrossthetopofmynotebookpage,“HowtoGetBoystoStopMakingFunofMyName.”IscootedmybookinfrontofGramtoseeifshehadanyideas.“Naomi,IhavelivedwiththatnamesinceImarriedyourgreat-grandpa,resthissoul,almostfiftyyears

ago,andIamdueproud.Besides,thereareworsethingsinlife.”

“Butyoudon’tgotoBuenaVistaElementary,”Isaid.She laughed.“That’s true,but I can tellyou thatboyshavenotchangedan iotaand theyarehard to

humble.Youknowmytruefeelingsonthesubject.Howaboutwriting,‘Thoseboyswillnotbotherme’?”Gramsaid thatwhenyouthoughtpositive,youcouldmakethingshappen,andwhenitdidhappen, it

wascalledaself-prophecy.Ifyouwantedtobethebestspellerintheclass,yousaidtoyourselfoverandover,“Iamthebestspellerintheclass,”andthenbeforeyouknewit,youwerepracticingandbecomingit. Itwas sort of likemagic, andGrambelieved it to her bones.But it didn’t alwayswork theway Ihoped.AtonetimeOwenandIweretheonlychildreninthetrailerpark.IthoughtpositiveeverydayforamonthformorekidsatAvocadoAcresbutallthatmovedinwasafamilywithateenagerandabrand-newbaby.Graminsistedmypositivethinkinghadsucceeded,butIhadbeengreatlydisappointed.Before I could write down Gram’s suggestion, Owen sneezed, and it was a big one, the kind that

sprinkledspittleandlefthiseyesallteary.“Owen,yougotitonmypage!”Isaid,smoothingmypaper,whichonlysmearedthewetspots.“Sorry,”hesaid,andthenhesneezedagain.“Company’scomin’twice,”saidGram,matter-of-fact.ItwasanotherofherOklahomanotions,andshe

hadamillionofthemthatshebelievedwholeheart.Thisonebeingifabodysneezed,someonewouldpayavisit.“WealreadyknowforsurethatFabiola’scomingover,”saidOwen.FabiolaMorales livedwith her husband, Bernardo, just a stone’s throw away in themiddle of the

avocadogrove.Bernardotookcareofthethreehundredtrees,andinreturnhedidn’thavetopayrentontheirtinyhouse.FabiolaandGramwerenewlyretiredfromWalkerGordondepartmentstore,wheretheyhadworkedforthirty-fiveyearsasseamstresses,doingalterationswiththeirsewingtablesface-to-face.Ifthatwasn’tenoughfamiliarity,Fabiolacameovereverynight,MondaythroughFriday,towatchWheelofFortune.Sofar,GramandFabiolahadwatched743during-the-weekepisodeswithoutmissingonce.Itwastheirclaimtofame.“Well then, Fabiola counts for one,” saidGram, patting a curler in place. “Iwonderwho’ll be the

other?”IlookedatOwenandrolledmyeyes.AflyzoominginwouldfulfillGram’sprediction.“MaybeMrs.Maloney?”saidOwen.Mrs.Maloneywaseighty-eightandlivedinthedouble-widenextdoor.Shecameouteveryafternoon

towaterhercactuses,rocks,andcementbunnies,andonlythendidsheevercomeoverforavisit.Gramsaidwe could count onMrs.Maloney for two things in life: onewaswearing the samepink-checkedcottonrobeeveryday(Isuspectedshehadadozenhanginginhercloset),andtheotherwasgoingtobedatsixintheevening.“Nope,itwon’tbeMrs.Maloney,”Isaid.“It’spastsix.”Chewingontheendofmypencil,Igotbacktomylist,whichGramsaidwasoneofthethingsIdid

best.Ihadallkindsoflistsinmynotebook,theshortestbeing“ThingsIAmGoodAt”whichconsistedof1)Soapcarving,2)Worrying,and3)Makinglists.Therewasmy“RegularandEverydayWorries”list,whichincluded1)Gramwasgoingtodiebecause

shewasold,2)Owenwouldneverberight,3)IwillforgetsomethingifIdon’tmakealist,4)Iwilllosemylists,and5)Abominations.Imadelistsofsplendidwords,typesofrocks,booksIread,andunusualnames.NottomentionthelistsIhadcopied,including“BabyAnimalNames,”“BreedsofHorses,”andmycurrent favorite,“AnimalGroups fromTheCompleteandUnabridgedAnimalKingdomwithover200Photographs.”Mr.Marble, the librarianand theabsolutebestpersonatBuenaVistaElementary,gaveme thebook

yesterdaywhenIwalkedintothelibraryatlunchtime.Hesaid,“NaomiOutlaw(healwayscallsmebothnames),todayisyourluckyday.IhaveatreasureforyouandI’vealreadycheckeditoutonyourcard.Igivethistoyouwithaflourish.”Thenhescoopedthebookintohispalms,kneltdownononeknee,andhelditouttomeasifitwasaboxofjewels.(Iaddedflourishtomy“SplendidWords”list.)Mr.Marbleallowedmeandtwootherstudentstoeatlunchatoneoftheovallibrarytableseveryday.

Itwasbreakingschoolrulestoeatthere,butMr.Marbledidn’tmind.Hejustsmiledatus,straightenedhisbowtie,andsaid,“Welcometothesanctuary.”(Sanctuaryalsowentstraightto“SplendidWords.”)John Lee was one of the library lunch students. His parents owned Lemon Tree Donuts. He was theroundest boy atBuenaVistaElementary, and one of the nicest.The otherwasMimiMessmaker. (Hername was on my “Unusual Names” list, along with Delaney Pickle, Brian Bearbrother, and PhoebeLively.)Mimi didn’t hang out with all the other girls in our grade either, the oneswhowere alwayscomparingmakeupandgoingtosleepovers.Shewasnobodyspecialatschool,justlikeme,butshedidn’tknowit.Shehadnouseformeandoncewhispered,“trailertrash”whenIwalkedby.AfterthatIneversaidawordtoher,andthatsuitedusboth.“Naomi,”saidGram,“isthereapageinyournotebooktitled‘WaystoAnnoyMyGram’?Becauseif

thereis,I’dappreciateitifyou’daddyourunrulybangstothatlist.”Iquickly reachedupandcorralleda triangleofhairhanging inmyeyes. Iwas trying to letmyhair

growallonelength,butinordertokeepmybangspinnedbackIneededthreeclipsoneachside.Gramhadtakentocallingme“brownshaggydog”becauseofmywildmopandmypredispositiontobrown-ness(eyes,hair,andskin).ItookaftertheMexicansideofthefamily,orsoI’dbeentold,andeventhoughOwenwasmyfull-bloodedbrother,hetookaftertheOklahomalot.Hedidhavebrowneyeslikeme,butwithfairskinandblondhairinabowlhaircutthatGramcalledaDutchboy.Duetomycoloring,Owencalledmethecenterofapeanutbuttersandwichbetween twopiecesofwhitebread,meaninghimandGram.“Thankyouformakingyouroldgrannyhappy,”saidGram,tuckingastraylockofhairbehindmyear.“You’renotthatold,”Isaid.Shelaughed.“Naomi,Iamyourgreat-grandmaandaccordingtomostfolks,Ihadnobusinessraising

youandOwen.ThosewhocarriedgossipsaidIhadonefootinthegraveandshould’veknownbetter,butItookyouonlikespringcleaninganyhow.ThejokewasoneveryoneelsebecauseIgottheprizes.ThatwasmyluckydaywhenIgotyoutwo.”Owen lookedup fromhis binder. “Today’smy lucky day.Guesswhat’s one ofmy spellingwords?

Bicycle!”AnycoincidenceinOwen’slife,suchaswantinganewbicycleandhavingthewordshowuponhis

spellinglist,madehimfeellucky.Whistling,hestartedwritingbicycleoverandoveronapieceofpaper.Gramfinishedrollingherhair,leavinglinesofwhitescalpstaringatus.“Myclownheadison,”sheannounced.Owen and I never arguedwith that description because the yellow and purple curlers did give that

effect.Gramclickedthetelevisionremotetofindthetailendofthenightlynews.Iclosedmynotebook,givingupfornowonmylistandknowingfullwellIwouldn’tbeabletosaybootothoseboysanyway.Ireachedintothebuilt-incabinetabovemyheadandpulledouttheplasticsaladbowlholdingmylatestsoapcarving.WhenOwenandIfirstcametolivewithGram,Ihadslippedintobeingsilentandmyhandsshookall

thetime.Iwastooyoungtorememberwhatcauseditall,butGram’spracticalsolutionwastokeepmymindandhandsbusy.SoapcarvinghadbeenBernardo’s idea,andhesaid Iwasborn to it.Hewouldworkinhissheddoinghishobby,makingwoodboxesandlittleminiaturebookshelves,thenpaintingthemeverybrightcolorwithscenesoflittletownsandsunsets.Itwasartfromhiscity,Oaxaca,farawayinMexico.AndIwouldsitnexttohimwithabarofsoapandacarvingtool.Gramwasnervoustodeathaboutme using a knife, so Bernardo startedme out with a bent paper clip. As I provedmyworth, Igraduatedtoaplasticknife,abutterknife,andfinally,aparingknife.Ipickedupthepartiallycarvedduckandmyknifefromthepileofslipperyshavingsinthebottomof

thebowl.Ihadalreadyfinishedtwootherducks,eachalittlesmallerthantheother,butIwantedathirdfortheshelfabovethekitchensink.Iwasnevercontenttocarveoneofanything,preferringatleasttwoorthreeforacompanionshipoflionsoracircleofbears.IpulledtheknifeacrossthebarofNature’sPureWhite.Thesoapsloughedoffeasyintothebowl,lookinglikeshreddedwhitecheese.Iscrapedinanarc,finishingoffthecurveofthebackanduptothetail.Thedryfilmonmyhandsfeltlikeathinglove,andeveryfewminutesIputmypalmsuptomynosetotakeawhiffofasmellthatremindedmeofbeingababy.“Donewithspelling!”saidOwen,closinghisbooks.Hecameoverandstoodnext tome,watching.

“Naomi,howdoyouknowwhattocarve?”“Iimaginewhat’sinsideandtakeawaywhatIdon’tneed,”Isaid,notlookingup.Slowly,Iaddedthe

finishing touches on the duckling, scratching out the appearance of featherswith the pointy end of theknife.Ilovedthispartofcarving,theetchingandthegroovesthatmadethefigurelooktruetolife.Iwasgettingreadytolevelthebottom,soitwouldsitflatandnotwobbleontheshelf,butIdidn’tgetonemore

pullofthebladebeforesomeoneknockedonourdoor.

MexicanproverbsonpageixfromMexicanSayings:TheTreasureofaPeoplebyOctavioA.BallesterosandMariadelCarmenBallesteros.ReprintedcourtesyofEakinPress.

Copyright©2000byPamMuñozRyan.Allrightsreserved.

PublishedbyScholasticInc.SCHOLASTIC,APPLEPAPERBACKS,AFTERWORDS,andassociatedlogosaretrademarksand/orregisteredtrademarksofScholasticInc.

Thiseditionfirstprinting,June2007

IllustrationsbyJoeCepeda•BookdesignbyMarijkaKostiwCoverart©2000byJoeCepedaCoverdesignbyMarijkaKostiw

e-ISBN978-0-545-53234-1

AllrightsreservedunderInternationalandPan-AmericanCopyrightConventions.Nopartofthispublicationmaybereproduced,transmitted,downloaded,decompiled,reverseengineered,orstoredinor

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