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Araceli's Path, Among Angels and Devils in Juarez

By Marion Surles

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Araceli
Araceli struggled to hang the heavy, wet clothes on the line. She was only eight years old. The wind blew the dirt from the grassless lots into the clothes. What was the point? she thought. Then she heard her mamá screaming at her to hurry up.
“Get in here, now. I need you to go get tortillas.”
Still getting a slight whiff of urine from the clean laundry, Araceli hung the last blanket, pushing the line up high with the tall post. She grabbed the few pesos and ran to the corner store, hurrying back to get herself and her sisters ready for school.
A tortilla rolled up around a thin strip of salchichón, pressed ham, would have to hold them until after school. Araceli grabbed her little sisters’ hands, and they walked against the dirty wind.
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Araceli was the oldest of a mishmash of family. She thought as she walked how she and her siblings were all connected as halves, wholes, and unknowns.
Araceli had an older brother who went to live with their father in the state of Zacatecas when their parents separated. Since she was only three at the time, she never knew her father or her brother so she considered herself the oldest. Then came another brother and sister from another father. That brother lived with that father too. Sarai was that sister, five years old and in kindergarten. Then came Zenaida. She was four and in pre-kinder. Mamá only had one baby with that man. When he wasn’t drinking, he treated them like one big family. But, the drinking always caused problems. Her family configuration was confusing but normal to most of her neighbors. Mamá was called Maite by her sisters and friends and didn’t have a man right now. No man in the house was good because there wasn’t any fighting and drinking, but there wasn’t much to eat either. Thank goodness for Abuela, her mamá’s mamá. She lived down the street and cooked for them when she could. She made good pozole. Araceli hoped Abuelita was cooking today.
The girls hurried on to school with other neighborhood kids. The boys always had a ball to kick between them. The girls rarely joined in. Several skinny dogs followed the group. They passed one dog sitting on a scrap of foam rubber that had blown in. He growled, daring any of the dogs passing by to try to take away his new bed. Trash and plastic bags from S-Mart blew in a whirlwind, some of it catching in the remains of chain-link fence that had once surrounded the schoolyard. Some of the chain-link sections were missing, stolen in the night for use elsewhere.

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At the entrance, a teacher checked them in, and each child ran to her classroom. Araceli loved school. She felt safe. She did her classwork, and no one yelled at her. She was a good student, and she was helpful to her teacher. At break, most of the kids ran to the vending tricycles parked outside the fence. Students usually had a couple of pesos to buy a baggie of churros with Valentina sauce. Araceli rarely had any pesos and was grateful when someone would share a snack with her.
After school, Araceli and her two sisters walked home. They were always hungry. They passed Abuela’s house, but no one was home. At their rough pallet house with the tarp roof, no one was home either. Araceli brought in the dry clothes, shaking out the dirt before folding them. She started a small fire in the stove and reheated a few tortillas and some leftover refried beans. After their meal, they worked on their homework and then went out to play in the dirt. At about five, as it was getting dark, Mamá came home with a small bag. She had found a job cleaning a home and earned enough to buy them a burrito each. “Go buy me a Coke at the store,” she screamed at Araceli. “Take that bottle with you to return.” Mamá never seemed to talk to her in a normal volume.
Araceli hurried to do as she was told. At the store, two doors down, a lady named Carmen asked Araceli about her mamá. “She’s fine. She had a job today,” Araceli replied.
“That’s good. Here, take this bag of bolillos home with you. I got a fresh delivery from the bakery.”
“Gracias, Señora.” Araceli skipped home. For today, they had a bit more.

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