(warning: very long story, grab a bag of popcorn.)
One day, walking home from school, Erick and I came upon a group of children beating a boy. I had seen this boy a few times and each time someone was either throwing a stone at him or would suddenly punch him. He was different from us because he was a white boy and he wore a black cap on his head. He and his family lived in a big house on our street, surrounded by a tall concrete fence and barbed wire. There were many big old trees inside their property. The concrete fence had a rectangular hole with iron bars, behind it a small variety store. I had often asked Mother why nobody went to buy from that store. We were certainly forbidden to buy anything from there.
Erick ran up to the group and joined in cursing the boy. I whacked him on the back with my umbrella telling him to stop. Then I saw blood on the ground where the boy was curled, trying to protect his face and head. This big boy, seemingly the leader of the pack, had this crazy look on his face and he was about to kick the boy when on reflex, I whacked him with the umbrella. He stopped and turned around. He was ready to punch me. I was horrified with what I did but the deed was done. The other boys stopped from beating the white boy.
“You’re a coward! You can’t fight without your sidekicks?”
It scared Erick because those kids knew he was my brother and they would surely harass him.
“You like the Jew boy, he’s your boyfriend!” I whacked him again but I missed. I was little and he was way taller.
“He’s not my boyfriend, you son of a bitch!” I had to say some bad works to make him think I was tough.
An ice cream vendor happened to pass by. He yelled at the boy. “You fighting with a little girl? Are you a sissy?” He slapped the boy on the back of his head. He was going to fight the man but the man was taller and stronger than him. He twisted the boy’s arm and told him that if he’s not so cowardly he should find someone his size to fight with. This made the other kids to disperse.
The white boy was already standing up and he walked alongside me. Erick walked ahead, not hiding his disgust that I was talking to the white boy.
His name was David and he lived in that fenced house on our street. I asked him why the other children were always beating him up but he never fought back. He just shook his head and thanked me for defending him. I asked if he was a mestizo and he replied he’s a Jew. His family came from Europe, but he and his sister were born in Manila.
When we got home, Erick told Mother that I almost had a fight with a boy and that I talked to the white boy. Mother pinched my ear and told me to stop getting into a fight or Father would beat me up again.
Later, I told her that I knew what a Jew looked like. I told her about David.
Mother said that the Jews killed our Lord Jesus Christ. A few times, though, Father and Uncle Cris in their drunken stupor would have a debate about the Jews and Jesus Christ. Father said that because Mary and Joseph were Jews, that made Jesus Christ a Jew, that in fact he was born a Jew.
That confused the heck out of me so I told Mother about it. She said nothing.
-o0o-
There was a sugar crisis in the country. Vendors and suppliers were hoarding the sugar supply to force the government to raise the prices. Meantime, we ran out of sugar at home. Father, whenever he came home from work, would always have coffee. With sugar. So, Mother gave me ten centavos and told me to go to the Chinese store near the highway, to buy sugar, because only the Chinese would sell sugar at the normal price. They didn’t have any, according to the Chinese man. So I walked back home without sugar in my hand. When I passed by David’s house, even though I had been told many times not to buy from there, I went to their store. His mother was tending the store and I asked if she had sugar to sell. She said yes. David was helping her and he told his mother that I saved him from the bullies some time ago.
"Oh, come in. Come in." She motioned for me to come through the iron gate as David was opening it. I entered. The yard was huge, there was a small tree house with a swinging “stairs” and from a large mango tree’s branch, two swings made of large tires were hung with thick ropes. Mrs. Goldman, David’s mother, gave me a big slice of cake with shredded cheese on top and a bottle of Coca-Cola. The only time I could have a whole bottle of soft drink was when I get sick. And here I was having a cake and the whole bottle of Coca-Cola. Mrs. Goldman fussed and thanked me for being a friend to David. I shrugged my shoulders because I couldn’t speak – my mouth was full as I was trying to eat fast and Mother had many times told me never to speak when my mouth is full, especially when I’m in another person’s house. In my mind, though, I knew I had already taken a long time going to the Chinese store and Mother would be worried as I had to cross a busy intersection to get there.
Sure enough, I heard Mother’s voice, she was walking towards the corner passing by the Goldman’s and she stopped right there in front of the gate but not looking in, yelling my name. I wouldn’t dare answer her call, but Mrs. Goldman, called out to my mother. “Your daughter is here, missus. Not to worry.”
I shoved the rest of the cake in my mouth and gulped the last of the Coca-Cola. Mrs. Goldman handed me the sugar and gave me some change. I forgot to say thank you as I ran out quickly to meet Mother.
The funny thing was when Father came home, he had a small bag of sugar with him. He said he bought it from the Goldman’s store up the street. Mother told him that she had me buy sugar, too, and I got it from the Goldman’s and that the little boy there was my friend. Father just nodded his head.
Great story and lovely shot!
@slash - thank you, susan.
@pandorasecho - ah, my friend, you flatter me too much!. thank you.
@barneyone - thank you, rita.
@ithinkithunk - true. sometimes i'm left wondering if i'm really part of my family or if i'm really adopted, or maybe i came from another planet but without superpowers! :-) i actually met david in high school, a boy invited me to his birthday party and david recognized me and it turned out he and jessie (the boy who invited me) were cousins. their families migrated to the states after high school and i lost contact with them. i forgot what his real last name was. thank you, k.
@sarasdadandmom - i'm trying to, but 365 gets in the way everyday! :-) thank you, terry.
Love how you have processed this. The end result is both dreamy and quite eerie