She had this dream to get the whole family to the United States and people in her town did not understand why she wanted to leave. They would make fun of her and even call her names.

When we got here, she remained focused. Still worked her fingers-to-the-bone so time to make friends was not a top priority. Looking back, I can see that her tough character & her focus were a way to protect herself from people’s opinions.

Yesterday she had an argument with the wife of a deacon. Mom had been asking around if any of the ladies needed a seamstress to make dresses for Christmas. My mother explained “I’m starting a new business…” and the deacon’s wife interrupted her.

“Why do you consider yourself to be better then the rest of us?” She complained to my mother.

“Isn’t a job at a factory good enough for you?”

But I know a ‘job’ is not enough for my mother. Needless to say mom butt heads with this lady and several other ladies from the church group.

But mom just lets this go…

A few weeks back, this lady was doing a collection of unwanted clothes for the poor & needy. My father committed himself to donate clothes. Over the weeks leading up to Christmas, we had donated several bags of clothes, that we did not use anymore.

At the Wednesday service before Christmas, the ladies’ church group made one last request for more unwanted clothes. “There is a desperate need for these items…” was the last plea. Nobody raised their hands, and at the last minute my father raised his. Once again, he committed the whole family.

Now for Saturday service, we dragged a big bag of clothes with us on the train. We carried it for the 1hr commute to the Adventist Church. There my father handed the bag over to this lady. Danny gave up a green hooded, parka. It’s only problem was that it was old & had holes in the pockets. I gave up my US Navy blue Pea coat. It only had a small tear in the elbow and mom gave up a nice brown coat with a white fur collar. Even though the fur was a little torn and dirty, she liked it. begrudgingly she too gave it up for those more needy…

All because my dad said “the poor do not have clothes to keep them warm this winter and you have several!”

Saturday church service was beautiful and the Christmas theme left us feeling that giving up our items for the benefit of others was a good idea.

It is what a “good Christian” should do – right?
But now walking out of Saturday service, we see a difference in the floor mats the church is using. Stretched out on the floor were my mom’s fur-collar coat; my blue jacket & Danny’s parka there on the floor for people to wipe their feet.

This cut deep, like a knife, straight thru my mother’s heart. She had allowed herself to be vulnerable and allow people in. But now this lady had taken a direct hit at mom. I don’t know why, envy, anger, jealousy…

But again my mother lets this go and just moves on – like always. This time the pain was a little deeper.

A neighbor saw us walking & offered us a ride home. Mom was quiet all the way home and nobody else dare break the silence. All we could do was listen to Delta Dawn playing on the radio. I guess mom being vulnerable is now like a faded rose from days gone by…

When we got home, mom went straight up to her room. I hope we can find a way to cheer her up before Christmas.

As soon as I finish off these hems, the dresses go to Nancy. She trims off the excess threads that may be hanging and cleans the garment. From there Nancy will pass them off to dad for a steam ironing. Then Daniel will place them on a hanger & bag them.

We need to finish the last fifteen dresses and the order will be ready to go. The order is finalized by around 3:30 and Daniel needs to drive into the city – into Chinatown to deliver the order.

I lied to my mom. Telling her that I did not have homework to do so that she can let me go with Daniel. We loaded up the bug and off we go. The car is so overloaded with garments that my seat on the passenger side is pushed so close to the front that my knees are hitting the dashboard.

We drive north on the New Jersey Turnpike. Get off on the Holland Tunnel Exit No 14 and cross into the City right before 5:45pm – right before they closed the receiving dock. This order was a test of 50 garments to see if mom would get the full order of 1000 garments. If we were to miss the deadline, she would not have gotten a chance at it, so luckily we made it in time. He goes upstairs to make the delivery, while I sit in the car keeping an eye on it.

Now we can drive back into New Jersey without a worry. Getting back in the car, we drive uptown and towards the Lincoln Tunnel.

“Daniel! where are we going?” I question.

“We have one more stop before we can go home.” Daniel tells me. “We need to drop off a sewing order to Sra. Garcia in West New York.”

I lay back – now that I have some leg room – and decide to take a nap. When I wake up, I hear Daniel playing some brand new songs from Billy Joel’s latest album, The Stranger. Sitting in traffic, we are enjoying the whole album

As we pull up to Sra. Garcia’s house, the song “Only the Good Die Young” comes on and I just realized why we drove north for an extra 1/2hr. This is where Maria lives!

There she is walking home in her Catholic School uniform. Daniel is so excited.

“Come out Virginia, don’t let me wait…”

“Pass me that bundle from the back seat!” Daniel asks me.

He puts the bundle on his lap and brushes his hair. I reach for the door handle & he stops me. “No, I need you to wait here & keep an eye on the car.” OK I guess I can use this time to actually get my homework done.

As Daniel goes into the house, I turn on the overhead light & the radio.

www.youtube.com/watch?v=NJBoHa3GArA

I go back to listening as Billy Joel continue… You Catholic girls start much too late… But sooner or later it comes down to fate. I might as well be the one…”

I completed my homework & am still waiting. I’ve listened to the whole tape and its now repeating again.

Ice is forming on the windows, from the cold outside. Daniel is still not back and I’m starting to get pissed.

“They say there’s a heaven for those who will wait
Some say it’s better but I say it ain’t
I’d rather laugh with the sinners than cry with the saints
the sinners are much more fun…

you know that only the good die young
thats what i said
i tell ya
only the good die young…”

“What is taking so long. It’s freezing in here!” I think to myself. I coverup with some of the fabrics and doze off for a bit. Then I am awaken by Daniel banging on the glass! I freak out not realizing it’s him banging. He walks in with a smile on his face. It looks like he might have gotten a kiss from Maria – but he’s not talking.

“She’s a nice girl!” I can’t kiss & tell.” He replies as he pulls out into the street.

Its now 9pm and away we go! We are heading home having accomplished more then we had originally planned.

Just the idea of holding her soft hand makes my knees buckle.

And being able to stand next to her and smell the sweetness of her skin just warms my soul.

All year long I’ve wanted to say hi to her, but I’ve been too shy and could not even bring myself to walk up to her. Now summer camp is almost over and I still have not gotten the nerve to talk to her.

So imagine! Actually getting to dance with her tonight surely seems unlikely.

Eddie, my best friend, laughs at me. He says all I have to do is ask. “The worst that could happen is that she says no…” But this is what scares me! “What if she does say no?”

“Forget that man! The dance is about to start and we need to check out the hot girls.”

Eddie, a couple of friends & I are are hanging out in front of the dance hall. Checking out every girl that walks by. I do not notice any of them. The only girl I’m looking for is Joan. Sadly, she is nowhere to be found.

“Lets go in. The dance is starting!” Eddie yells out. I hang back to see if maybe Joan is coming around the corner of the building. But no luck.

Half hour into the dance, Eddie comes running up to me. “Joan is here! Are you going to get your nerve up and ask her to dance?” he asks.

“I don’t know if I can do it!” I reply. But deep down inside what I was really thinking is more like “I don’t know if I can – handle the rejection.” I can’t take that chance.

“You know what your problem is? You need to man up!” When he said this, I knew he was right. I’ve never been comfortable in my own skin.

“Go for it!” He eggs me on “She’s standing right over there by the punch bowl. You’ll never know until you try.”

TODAY that has to end! Summer is almost over & I’ve had my head up in the clouds. I may never get another chance.

Eddies strength & courage has given me a surge of courage.

“Eddie, I’m gonna do it! I’ll ask her to dance!”

I walk right over to her – before my injection of courage runs out. As soon as I approach her the dance song ends. I freak out & freeze for a second. But I ask anyway! “Do you want to dance?” and to my surprise she replies

“YES!”

I grab her hand and we walk out towards the dance floor. I’m expecting another fast dance song, but I can’t believe it – they start playing a slow romantic song.

I pause and look her in the eyes, as if asking “still wanted to dance?” – and she tugs my hand towards the dance floor. Waiting for Olivia Newton John to sing the first words, Joan whispers “Why haven’t you asked me before?”

As I’m searching for an answer, Olivia Newton John starts with…

“There was a time when I was…”

Joan steps closer to me. Suddenly the song fades to the background and all I can hear is the beating of my heart. As she tilts her head and leans in towards my shoulder, I feel my heart pounding like a drum. The beating rhythm creates a sense of peace & stillness. I allow myself to be in the moment & enjoy Joan in my arms.

Wow!! This is the greatest moment ever! We danced close together for what felt like a sweet eternity. Dancing cheek to cheek, I keep my eyes closed and savor the moment. Her hair and skin are sweet smelling – almost like roses. Her hands are soft and warm. Her fingertips firmly squeezing my hand.

The 3 1/2 minutes of this song, felt like a sweet eternity. I wanted it to last, but the song finishes with…

“Have you never been happy, just to hear your song…”

Yes, I am happy and a song of fulfillment is now playing in my heart.

Joan’s friends came up to her and swept her away. She turns and as she is pulled away, she looks over her shoulder and smiles at me. Her friends, giggling away, are oblivious to a moment in time that I will never forget.

Anyway I had a quick breakfast, of milk & cereal, and went off to school feeling like that anyway. The whole day just seemed to drag along. In gym class, we played soccer with the shirts vs. no-shirts. I ended up on the no-shirts team and it was a bit too cool outside. My asthma started acting up and I am having a hard time breathing.

The weather outside was stormy and the gray clouds just loomed overhead like spectators, looking down into the lion’s den at the zoo, waiting for something to happen. Even worse, when I went to take a shower, the hot water refused to flow for me!

What a day!!!!

I’m just glad school is over and I can finally get the school day done now!

So as I drive home, the feeling of dread is still present and getting stronger. It pulsates and causes the veins in my neck to bulge. I don’t know why it’s there nor what is causing it, but it’s just strange.

I guess not strange enough! Because as I turn the corner onto our block, I see exactly what is causing this feeling.

There in the middle of the street, in front of our house, is a growing commotion. The neighbors are standing together as a group frozen in their tracks. The lights are still flashing on the patrol car and the crowd has an expression of disbelief. They’re standing there with their hands clasped over their mouths. All seen to have experienced a horrific moment together. They are sobbing as the rain falls on their shoulders.

Oh God don’t tell me something happened!

As I am parking the car, the girls from upstairs bang on my window. “Open this window!” they scream. “Dammit open it now!”

“What’s going on?” I ask.

“Baby Daniel got sick. He was found in the crib and he was not breathing! His little face was blue!” they explained loudly. “Come with us, we will drive you to the hospital!”

“Wait!” I shouted “I haven’t finished parking the car!”

“Dammit, don’t worry about the car! I’ll get my dad to park it! We have to go now!” They shout as they drag me towards their car.

I leave the keys in the car. The door open and the engine running. My lunchbox is open on the front seat and I think I spilled my Coke on the rug from all this commotion. I don’t know why, but I am not even a little worried.

“He’s going to be alright!” I reassure the girls. “Don’t panic. Everything will be OK, You’ll see.”

Looking back, I must have been out of it, since I was not worrying. But as I look at the speedometer, I noticed that she is driving over 50mph on the city streets. Now I am starting to worry and even a little scared!

They pull up to the front door of the Perth Amboy General Hospital’s Emergency Room and the electric doors slide open. We climb out of the car clumsily and almost fell out even before the car was in park.

We rush into the emergency room and immediately run into the patient’s area. I see my mom, Beth and my baby sister, Patty crying. By the look in their face, I can see that same feeling of dread – only deeper and more painful.

No question had to be asked. My mother’s strong hug told me everything! Beth and Patty also came over to create a group hug in the middle of the hall. While crying, my mother uttered these words: “Little Daniel just died.”

Oh God, Why!!!! How am I going to tell my brother his son is dead!

The terror of the moment just fills me. I wonder how my brother would react to the news. Then my thoughts and wanderings go to Beth. She had been taking a nap and when she woke up, found Little Danny face down in the crib. She had been alone in the house at the time. The terror of finding her son dead must be horrific for her!

She is so far from her home & her family. She finds herself surrounded by a bunch of strangers who now find themselves to serve as her family. This house isn’t her home. Oh My! She is so far from home…

Beth, I know you’re lonely and I hope you’ll be alright…

You know kids in the neighborhood doing what kids are supposed to do – being innocent and having fun!

That is… all kids with the exception of little Peter. He is only 4 maybe 6 yrs old and his mom is really protective over him. The only times I see him out is when his mother takes a nap. He sneaks out of the house, not to play with us but to go to the gray house at the corner of Warren and Salem.

He skips and hops his way over to that house.

The gray house is the home of an older couple with no kids. The lady is quiet and goes to work six days a week. The man is gray-haired and seems to have retired early. Because he tends to the garden everyday and is always outside in his yard.

As we walk home from school, he greets us and offer us candy thru the bushes. My father is friends with this guy, but I find him to be very strange. I don’t know why but I am freaked out by him.

But Peter seems to like him enough to go to his house every week. He goes there by himself at least once a week and spends over an hour there.

One day I asked him “what do you do at his house all that time?” He replied, “We play games and eat candy.” But he would look away and not go into detail of what games they play together alone.

One day when he came out crying I asked him what happened. This time he did say that they danced to music and watched a movie that he did not like. The movie made him cry.

Yesterday my dad wanted to go visit the people in the gray house and he says that I have to go with him.

“No!” I replied “I’m not going!” But my dad insisted and we went anyway. My dad was going there to teach him the bible and wanted me to learn how to do it.

The house was dark. The furniture was wooden, stained dark brown, with a brown tweed fabric that even thought it was in good shape, always looked dirty. The walls were wood-panelled in a honey-colored stain. The grain was deep but looked worn from years of usage. The lighting was very dim with only table lamps lighting the immediate area.

I never understood why someone would choose to live in such darkness.

Anyway I asked my dad if I could leave. Finally after nagging him enough, he let me go. I rushed out the door so quickly. Later on my dad catches up to me and asks me “what happened back there?”

I finally broke down and told my dad what I felt. “I don’t like going to that house dad. Peter tells me that he does some weird things, dad! They play alone together and Peter sometimes comes out of that house crying.” My dad replied “What are you talking about?” He continued with “They are nice people, how do you know that Peter is telling the truth. You have to be sure of what you are saying before you judge anyone! You have to love thy neighbors no matter what you opinion of them.”

This is not unusual, dad never takes what I say seriously anyway. I wish I had someone to talk to, but my dad just won’t listen.

So today, I walked home alone and sure enough he was there working in his yard. He stops me by offering me my most favorite candy – a Three Musketeer bar. The words “love thy neighbor” ring in my head and I choose to give up my suspensions of him and accept him for who he is.

It was a mini bar and he said he had plenty more inside. We talked for a bit and he says “come inside & I will give you more Three Musketeers.”

The words “love thy neighbor” ring again so I accept his invitation and went inside.

No judgement!

Inside we played games and ate candy just like Peter said! Then about 45 minutes of playing he says…

“Can I teach it to you?”

He gets serious and says “the game is a secret though! It’s a big kids game – I’m not sure if you’re big enough to play this game…”

“Of course I am!” I insist “let me play!”

I should have notice something was off when he made me promise I wouldn’t tell anyone.

Anyway he gets off the floor puts on a record – I still remember it – it was Boogie Nights by Heatwave. I remember it well! It is my favorite song. It used to be, that is until now. He then comes over and sits right next to me on the sofa.

Instantly things start to feel weird. He speaks softly and moves in slowly now. Almost as if he is deliverate trying to avoid scaring me. He puts his hand, slowly, on my knee and tells me to relax. Now I am really shaking.

Then he says: “Open up your pants and …”

Before he could finish his sentence I was off that sofa and out the door! Sorry, I cannot love this neighbor… I knew what he wanted and I was not going to play those games.

But poor Peter! I just realized that he has played that game before and he is keeping that secret.

I now know why Peter’s attitude had change lately. He did not skip back & forth anymore. He walks there with his head down and his shoulder seem to just droop – like he has lost his spark.

I know he has a hard life at home, with his dad never being home & his mom being controlling. I’m sure he does not have anyone to talk to – even if they did listen – I’m not sure they would hear the secret he’s keeping.

This is enough to stress anybody out! Deep down inside, I know that Peter has changed from the many times he’s gone into the darkness of that gray house.

I know that the one and only time was enough for me. It left a lasting impression on me. Like a nightmare, it lingers in the shadows of secrecy. It is one thing that even though I want to forget, I have not been able to do.

I wonder if Peter has been able to forget.

Looking out the window, I see a beautiful Sunday morning. The sky is bright and a beautiful shade of blue with only one gray cloud.

Again the loud whirling of the vacuum cleaner wakes me up. I give in and decide to get out of bed and head downstairs for breakfast. The sounds of mom’s Spanish music fills the air as I descend down the staircase.

Loud, upbeat and a happy mood fills my mother’s way of being. I guess she is enjoying Spring cleaning…

“Mom, can I go outside and play?” I ask her excitedly. “Sure, after you clean up your room.” OK that sound fair enough. I can do my part of the Spring cleaning chores. I run back upstairs, make my bed and put the dirty clothes in the hamper. Again I charge down the stairs and I’m heading out the door, when my mom asks… “Did you sweep and mop the floor?”

Oh no! “do I have to do that?” I challenge her. “Just do it! Then you can go out and play.” was her reply.

While I mop, the music filling the air is soft ballads from the old country. They are love songs and patriotic ballads from Ecuador. I thought nothing of it. She would always play sounds from back home. It was music from her youth & her old friends. The ballads sang of hope and heraldry for the love of our country.

About 45 minutes later I am done mopping the floor & cleaning out the bucket so I head downstairs.

“Mom, I’m done! I’m going out to play?” This time there was no reply and she is nowhere to be found. The music changed and now there is a love song on the stereo. It sings of missed opportunities and love that cannot be.

It was melancholic and a bit dramatic.

I guess mom is missing the old days…

Anyway, where’s mom? I start searching for her & realize that she was in the front yard picking tomatoes for lunch. “OK mom, I’ll be back by lunchtime.”

“Where do you think you’re going?” she asks as if she forgot our deal. “out to play…”

“No. Go and clean the upstairs bathroom.” she demanded “But mom, you said I can go out when I was done with my room…”

“Now you need to do the bathroom!” she insisted.

Begrudgingly I went and did it. “Well, If I can go out and play after that, then it won’t be so bad.” I justified that to myself.

Again another 45 minutes passed, but I was done! Now I can go out to play. Heading down the stairs, the music still blaring, I hear my mother crying. This time the music went from melancholic to downright sad. It sang of loves lost & the longing for days gone by. It sang of missing out on what life has to offer.

Oh Boy! She is in her sad mood.

This time I try and sneak out the door. “Where do you think you are going?” mom stops me. “Umm, outside to play…” I reply

“Go to your room!” she yells. “Why mom?”

“Because I said so…” was her reply.

I look out the window & see that the gray cloud has decided to linger. It starts raining and I guess I’m not going anywhere!

I could see that, like that cloud, her mood was also gray. A sadness welts up in her eyes and a single tear rolls down her cheek. Immediately she wipes it off and turns so that I would not see it.

My mother always has to be strong and never allows us to see her vulnerability. But today I did see it and I can understand her pain. She gave up a lot to come to the United States. She gave up her education; her career; her friends and family; her hopes; but most of all she gave up her future & dreams so that we can have ours.

Once in a while she allows herself to feel this. I don’t think its of remorse for giving up her past but out of shear loneliness. Having to bear the burden of bringing up five kids – practically alone – in a new world can be a daunting task.

Carrying a heavy burden is daunting…
but even worse having to do it without much support from dad.

When I get there I feel the humid and stale smelling air that surrounds the playground. The bum laying next to the gate stopped me from entering, not physically, but just from his presence. What’s the point anyway – I convince myself – no one to play with.

So I decided to head over to the Prospect Ave train station. I walked several long, dark blocks just wondering around. Walking under the shadow of the Westchester Ave EL staring to the top of the buildings, to see which one actually had it’s top up in the light. The dark, chaotic street with the blaring banners, that provided the only lights; and the blaring horns, that provide the life of the street; had a few scattered buildings that survive the chaos. These blocks,with the broken-brick facades, broke up the long blocks where tumbled-down building and empty lots loomed.

The dark streets do not get a ray of sun cutting thru. The only ray of sunshine is my destination. The tiny, red-bricked hole-in-the-wall novelty shop with the screaming yellow sign. This shop, where even just two persons standing makes the place look packed, was craving for attention. They changed the merchandise to see who will respond, who will keep them alive.

Lucky for me, they started carrying those new miniature, hot wheel toy cars with the bright red paint job, crazy header pipes and the big, exaggerated rear wheels.

I spent the afternoon hiding out there, living a new found dream.

I see what the dog sensed. This strange, lanky guy with long greasy hair that covered his eyes was walking in my direction. He starts to cross the street at midblock and the cars approaching honk at him – he just responds with the finger. Nothing phases him, nothing matters! As he steps up onto my sidewalk, the air gets this strange chill. Even the people walking on the sidewalk feel the tension and step aside. I keep staring at him and he continues his approach towards me. I am frozen, like a deer – stopped dead in its track by the headlights approaching. I could not react and could not move. The only movement on my body are the salty sweat droplets running off my forehead.

As he comes closer to the front of my brownstone, he makes direct eye contact with me. I cannot turn my gaze away and we keep the eye contact as he approaches. Whaz the matta kid? – Whacha lookin’ at? I didn’t know what to say and just uttered the first words that spilled out of my open mouth. I asked him why is he wearing a trenchcoat in the middle of summer. He does not say a word and just stops in front of me. He turns to face me as I stand up. All the while we continue the chicken stare. Who is going to give in first – who is going to look away? At the instant, he gestures with his eyes down to his side and allows me to break formation. I take this chance and turn my gaze away, taking only a quick glance.

That is the first time I have ever seen a 12-gauge Model 88 shotgun.

The kids wanting to get into a gang talk about it all the time! But I’ve never physically seen a sawed-off shotgun, even less – one that is sawed-off at both the barrel and stock.

Perfect size for easy concealment. The black steel barrels glisten from the sun shining on it. The wood handle, chipped and worn, looks as if this gun has seen pleanty of action. Instantly he tucks the gun down to his side, closes his coat and gestures with the index finger up against his lips. Then he extends his thumb out and signals as slicing across his throat. He did not make a sound – did not need to – I heard clearly every word!

As he turns and walks away, I am clear that his future is set for him. We are no longer foes. His gesture and poise was of warning me not of threathening me. With his back towards me now, I cannot help but stare at the Savage Skull insignia on the back of his long coat.

Years from now, when I’m a teenager, I guess I will realize that I should have been scared shitless, but I hate to admit that I was in awe! He commands attention. That gun and insignia gives him power – he’s a tough guy (MOV – video link) and the world knows it!

But deep down inside, that gesture gave me the feeling that he was telling me to stay away – or his future will become mine. I respect that.