Prologue
From the darkness on the street in front of a group of small storefronts nearby, Jesús stood watching as the smoke began to wisp out of the central office of the clinic, a stand-alone building across the street. A dark and evil humor took hold of him and in his agony, he felt a little relief and satisfaction, though he knew perfectly well that it was the most temporary of amusements. Tomorrow morning, the daylight might well bring his utter downfall, or at best, a new badge of guilt and shame.
Jesús had become quite a skilled electrician over the past years and had employed these very abilities in setting up this “accident”. The owner of the small medical center had requested his help recently in trying to correct several electrical problems and he had willingly accepted the work. The X-ray machine had been blinking on and off when in use, and the director hoped Jesús could fix the malady. It wasn’t any monetary recompense that interested Jesús in the small job; it was revenge, pure and simple.
Because of the director’s familiarity with Jesús (as the husband of one of the nurses in the clinic), he’d immediately thought of him for the work. Carmen, Jesús’ wife and the clinic’s nurse, had recently passed away. Through her, the manager of the clinic knew Jesús as an upright individual and a proficient tradesman in the construction industry and he had without concern given Jesús the keys to the building. Jesús would go into the office to do the repairs at night when the clinic was closed and his labor wouldn’t interfere with the office’s business.
Jesús had proposed that the office manager allow him in on this first night to look at the problems the office was worried about. If he was able, he would do the actual work. If other supplies or tools were necessary, he might have to come back a second time; but he said he felt confident he might finish the job in one night.
It might be a good plan for extracting his vengeance, but it wasn’t a fool-proof way to avoid detection and incarceration for the arson. He wasn’t sure how much he cared about that, though; although the thought of his girls being taken from his life was a deep concern. Nevertheless, his internal fury drove him relentlessly onward.
He'd gotten in after the midnight hour, and moved around in the office until he came to the X-ray room. He wouldn’t be doing any actual work here, but he removed the cover from the wall outlet and pulled the electrical socket slightly out from the metal box it was in.
This wall plug was a 220-volt circuit, and he knew he’d found the “flash point” of the fire he’d start. The old socket had been put in carelessly initially, and he knew he’d hit pay dirt when he removed the cover and saw the jumble of old wires running through the box. Years of temperature changes in the building's environment, moisture and corrosion had loosened the connections in the box, he saw, which was undoubtedly the cause of the problems they’d had with the machine’s power. It really was surprising that a fire hadn’t already started on its own! The wiring was old, and he suspected it wouldn’t take much to create a dangerous situation, even without his help. But he would help to speed things along.
He set up the fail, using his expertise to implement a condition that would create dangerous arcing in the wall socket’s wiring. The arc would create an incredible heat flashpoint—even up to 35,000 degrees Fahrenheit—far hotter than the surface of the sun, but for a very short period of time! Insulation would melt and sparks would ignite into flame. In this old building, a fire was more certain than not.
He felt just the slightest bit of guilt—not for burning down this gateway to hell, but because of the numerous poor people who would have to relocate to other healthcare facilities. But was this even a healthcare facility? He darkly decided, no, this was where death lurked and indifference to human life had proven fatal for his wife, for him, and for his family. He had a remedy for all that, though. Justice or revenge—it was hard to say. Maybe it was both.
Jesús knew the fire specialists would have a hard time proving the fire had been set intentionally if they even went that far in an investigation. It was documented that the building already desperately needed electrical repairs and renewing, so a bare nod to any examination was likely. Everything was in place.
Jesús left the doctored plug sitting slightly ajar from its housing in the wall. After hearing the definitive buzzing of the loose wires, seeing the arcing connections, and feeling the heat coming from the plug, he was confident all was proceeding according to his plan. When smoke began to appear from the socket, it was time to go. He left his tool bag and supplies in the X-ray room where its discovery would add credence to his false narrative.
His alibi would be that he had examined the plug, and prepared to replace it without realizing how badly the wiring inside was deteriorated and how immediate the threat was. Just by removing the plug from its box, he had unknowingly advanced the very condition he had come to resolve. He’d walked away for a few minutes to get his coffee thermos and take a quick break, only to come back and discover the fire. He had desperately searched for a working fire extinguisher, but the one in the office was expired and didn’t work (and that was true). Minutes passed, and the fire had grown out of control; he’d panicked as the building quickly filled with smoke, and finally, he’d thought only about escaping. He'd left his phone, and after getting away from the burning building, there were no other phones available nearby to call the fire emergency number. He’d run back out to his truck in the parking lot to go for help. But, as was sometimes the case for the old beater, it wouldn’t start, (this part was quite true), and he’d finally taken off in a sprint, not knowing what else to do.
He crossed the street and found some shadows in the unlit crevices outside the storefront and waited 15 minutes. When the flames popped through the roof and smoke was pouring out of windows, he began the 2-mile jog to the fire department. He’d left his phone in the tool bag so he’d had to run to the firehouse—but none too quickly. He arrived at the station about 30 minutes later, the fire well established prior to him even beginning his run. All part of the plan.
He pounded on the door of the firehouse building, and when a sleepy fireman came to the door, he found Jesús in a “panic”, sweating and nearly incoherent in some breathless complaint of a fire! It took a further 5 minutes to get the story out of Jesús who babbled for all he was worth before getting all the details out.
When the firefighters had finally rallied and were en route, the building Jesús had razed was fully engulfed with little to save. The crew arrived and poured water onto the fire, but in the end, they knew it was to no purpose; the clinic was gone. An old wooden structure, there were only ashes left and a few charred remnants of the wall studs, when the firefighters’ work was finished. All Jesús’s hard work to create an alibi through the physical evidence left behind now seemed almost irrelevant; the devastation of the fire left only silent and invisible clues, it would seem. The X-ray machine was a metal skeleton, all the plastic and other component materials burned away. Even parts made of aluminum on the machine showed signs of heat stress, the tower that held the body of the imager sagging from its previous normal condition. The heat must have been intense. Thank God no one was in the building Jesús thought.
Thank God no one was in the building Fire Inspector Victor James thought. He contemplated the view as he lifted the black and yellow caution tape and walked onto the smoldering ruins, while the fire crew finished up soaking the remains of the smoking hulk. Inspector James made his way systematically across the concrete floor, starting at one end of the rectangular foundation and working in a grid search. He saw no particular areas of great interest to his trained eye, and since most of the structure itself was gone, there was no way to determine much yet. There were various metal skeletons of what had once been chairs, and there was the distorted carcass of the X-ray machine.
But this was interesting, James thought. The frayed wire remains of the electrical connection cord were still attached to the melted plastic remains of its plug; and that was still attached to the metal remnants of the electrical socket. Both were still set in the steel electrical box, now lying in the ashes on the floor. This seemed a likely location for the initial flash point of the fire; it would have started here, at the wall socket and travelled quickly from there up and into the wall. It was suspicious as the possible starting point.
He used a pair of needle-nose pliers he had to lift the plug and socket in its metal box onto a tray he retrieved from his van, and used his phone to take several pictures from various angles. He got a large magnifying glass screen from the bag he carried and examined the burned wiring. He quickly noted a charred and fused wire on the neutral connection, and he wondered if there might have been a break there that caused an arc. Looking at the socket, he noted the ground wire was also broken. In old buildings from this era, he knew the construction often left much to chance—the misfortunes of inadequate building codes and materials, not to mention the many years without proper inspection or maintenance. They had built some of the buildings in the area as far back as the 1950s, with original electrical wiring and connections unchanged. In fact, a fire like this was nearly inevitable, and other businesses in this section of town had similarly suffered a fiery fate.
He sniffed the plug to see if there was any obvious scent of gasoline or kerosene, but detected nothing. He would later examine the plug thoroughly in the lab for signs of any accelerants. He doubted that would be the case.
Inspector James took several pictures through the magnifier and then cut the cord from the X-ray machine and from the wall with a pair of wire cutters, and placed the still connected plug, socket and metal box into a 2-gallon plastic bag, marking it with his notations.
His primary interest today would not be the destroyed remains of any forensic evidence from the fire, though. It would be the man who had reported the fire, an electrician, ironically, who had been working in the building prior to the blaze. It had been he who had alerted the fire department, and in fact, they found his electrical tool bag inside the building as well. They would temporarily hold it as evidence, too; although only to help understand what had happened and not necessarily to point an accusatory finger. Clearly, the work the electrician had been doing was a potential proximate cause, but this could indicate an accident just as easily as criminal intent—probably more so.
Inspector James found Jesús at the back of a fire truck drinking a bottle of water given to him by a firefighter. The firemen had quickly determined that Inspector James would want to speak with him and kept him in voluntary seclusion for the time being.
Inspector James made his way over. He wore a pair of tall, insulated-rubber fireman’s boots as he sloshed over through the lake of watery debris. Other than that, the inspector was not distinguishable as a fireman. He wore a dark blue windbreaker with the words CUERPO DE BOMBEROS (Fire Department) in a large arching yellow font on the back and CHIHUAHUA, centered under it. Underneath, he wore a light blue dress shirt, open collared.
He came over to Jesús with a smile and hand extended. His opening salutation was, “Hello, Mr. Sendero. I understand you are the person who alerted us to this fire. Correct?”
Jesús answered, anxiety still etching his face, “Yes, sir. I am.”
Inspector James said, “I’m Inspector Victor James, but please call me Victor. Would you mind answering a few brief questions for me about the fire? And, of course, thank you, for reporting this.”
“Yes, certainly, sir.” He answered.
“Great. Mr. Sendero, I understand the officials of the clinic hired you to do some electrical work here. Is that right?”
“Yes, sir. Please call me Jesús. They hired me because of a possibly faulty electrical problem with their X-ray machine. It had been experiencing cut outs during operation and the director suspected some electrical problems. The building was quite old, and they had had other similar issues with the electrical work in the past, although the circuit for the X-ray was not quite as old as the original building’s wiring.”
“Yes, thank you. That confirms my understanding of your presence here. And they had asked that you come at night after hours so as not to disturb the daytime work that went on in the clinic, correct?”
“That’s right. I got in about midnight or so and used the key they gave me to get in. I had just inspected the 220 volt plug at the wall where the X-ray machine was and had barely gotten started when the fire broke out.”
“Okay, when you say ‘inspected’, what exactly did you do?”
“Well, I had only removed the cover plate from the socket, removed the screws that held the socket in the metal box and pulled it out an inch or so to see the condition of the wires and connections inside. I could see that the wiring was in pretty bad condition with some signs of possible overheating and scorching. The screw connections holding the wires looked loose and the twist wire connectors were a real problem. Two of the connectors were too small for the gauge wire in use, and the third was completely missing! That connection was wrapped in old asphalt electrical tape and it was in a state of bad repair, the adhesiveness probably gone—it was coming unwrapped! The condition of the whole socket and wiring was in horrible disrepair. It was no wonder to me that there had been issues with the machine; the only thing that surprised me was that there had not actually been a fire here yet!”
“Did you cut the power prior to, or after doing this inspection, Jesús?”
Jesús looked down sheepishly. “No sir. I have been doing this for so long, I know what I can and can’t touch without being harmed, so I skipped that step for the inspection. I wanted to get this job done tonight if possible, so their X-ray machine would be working properly in the morning. So, I was hurrying, I guess.”
Victor was thoughtful. When he spoke, there wasn’t a hint of condemnation, but there was a serious focus to try to dive into what might be indiscernible in the end: motive. He hardly believed there was a crime here, but he dutifully explored every possibility.
He asked, “Jesús, when you removed the screws and pulled the plug out a bit to inspect it, did you see any arcing or sparks?”
“No, sir, not exactly. I mean, I thought I could hear a little buzz, but that was as soon as I took the cover off, and I didn’t realize it was critical right then; so, I decided I’d go grab a cup of coffee from my thermos in my truck, take a quick break, and then get to the repairs. I worked during the day and was really feeling the effects of the hours, so I was hoping to have a little caffeine to keep me going before I really got into the work, you know? And I was really tired.”
“Yes, I understand. That makes sense. I just wonder why you didn’t turn off that circuit at the breaker box right away.”
“Actually, it was a fuse box rather than a breaker box. I had glanced at it (it was in another office) when I came in. Typical of buildings built prior to the 60s. That box was in pretty awful shape, too. As I said, I can’t believe the building hadn’t had severe problems before tonight. Anyway, I was going to get my coffee and then pull the fuse for the circuit when I went back inside so I could actually start the work. That was probably a mistake. I should have done that right away, but I just didn’t realize how dangerous the conditions had become. And I didn’t know that anything was happening to the circuit right when I pulled it out.” Again, Jesús hung his head as if ashamed of this misstep.
Victor went on. "Jesús, we can’t make any real determinations yet, so let’s not assume the way you did your initial inspection caused the fire. As you said, the building was probably on its last leg regarding fire safety. And being a wooden building only increased the danger.”
I don’t quite understand what happened after you went back inside, though. Can you please go over that with me?”
Jesús answered, “After about a 10 minute break, I went in and walked back to the X-ray room…”
“Okay, hold on a second there, please. I thought you said you were going to pull the fuse before you went to work on the circuit. Why didn’t you do that immediately when you walked back inside?”
Jesús shifted uneasily on the metal bumper of the fire truck. “I… uh… I smelled smoke. I think I was beginning to be worried there might be a bigger problem and went straight into the X-ray room where the smell was strongest. That’s when I saw the fire. There was smoke coming from the socket and flames were already climbing the wall. There was a lot of smoke in the room and I panicked. I could only think about getting out of the building…”
“Was the fire already that bad? … that you believed you needed to get out of there?”
“Yes, I suppose that’s what I felt. I was afraid and shocked that I might have set this building on fire! I knew that smoke was the immediate danger and that a fire in a building like this could erupt into a major blaze very quickly. I didn’t even think to get my phone! I just panicked!”
Victor said, “I can completely understand that, Jesús! And you did right to get out immediately. It is truly unfortunate that you didn’t have your phone on your person, though; that might have made some difference in our response time. But you’re right—a fire in a building like that can become an inferno in mere minutes. I’m glad you didn’t stay to try to try to put it out yourself. But I wish you would have had your phone available. What happened then?”
Jesús answered, “I ran outside checking my pockets for the phone. When I realized I didn’t have it, I hoped it might be in the truck, so I started looking frantically for it there. Of course, it wasn’t there; it was in my tool bag. So, my next thought was to see if there was any business open or maybe a second story home over a mom-and-pop shop. None! I looked for a pay phone, but of course, those are nearly extinct these days, so I got into the truck and tried to start it. When I came here this evening, it took forever to get it cranked. It has a bad starter, and I had to beat on it with a hammer to get it running—finally. That happened again when I tried to head to the fire station. I had a hammer in the truck, so I tried beating the starter as I had earlier, but it was taking forever. After a few minutes, I could see smoke coming out of the window of the room where the X-ray machine was, and a little flame coming from the roof above the room, too. I decided to just run as fast as I could to the station.”
I’m not really a runner, exactly, but I ran all the way. By the time I got to the station, I was so out of breath I could hardly tell them what had happened. I finally got it out, though, and they brought me here in one of their trucks.”
“I see, Jesús,” Inspector James answered. “How long do you think it took to run to the station?”
“I don’t know,” he answered. “Maybe 20 minutes? More or less?”
“Okay, that’s not bad for someone who doesn’t run much. It’s about 2 miles, so for a non-runner, that would be about a 10-minute mile. And we thank you for making that effort.”
“I’m sure the adrenaline helped.” Jesús said.
“Yes, I’m sure it did.”
“Jesús, for now, I think that will be all I have to ask you about. This is a very unfortunate event tonight, and I thank you for shedding some light on what may have happened. I appreciate your openness and honesty. I may have other questions before I conclude my investigation, but for now, I’m satisfied that this seems to be accidental. I’m sorry you had to be on the scene when things went so badly.”
“Thank you, sir. I’m also very sorry. I feel bad about it since it must have had something to do with my being here.” Jesús didn’t want to say it was because of his work. Let the inspector make up his own mind about that; he wouldn’t be giving him any extra fuel for that fire.
Inspector Victor James gave Jesús one of his cards with his name and number, and shook Jesús’ hand, ending the conversation.
But before he’d gotten more than a few paces away, he turned back to Jesús and asked, “Oh, say, Jesús. Before we all leave the scene here, I need two things. First, I’ll need the number of the director to let him know what all has happened. And second, I wonder if you would mind trying to start your truck before I go?”
Jesús had been sweating that. It was absolutely true that the starter had begun to act up recently, although it wasn’t true that it had done so tonight—it had started fine when he left his house. This could be a problem.
He made his way to the old Chevrolet C-1500 single cab, slowly pulling out his keys as he made his way over. He got inside, and put his key into the ignition, sweating bullets. He turned the key, and as if by some divine help from his wonderful dearly departed Carmen, the engine whined, refusing to start and the iconic clicking of the starter pinged audibly from the motor. Jesús was shocked at his good fortune, if having a broken starter could be called “good fortune”!
Inspector James seemed pleased and said, “Okay, thank you Jesús. That confirms your story. Will you be alright, or can I get one of these men to run you home?”
Jesús was nearly ecstatic with relief that God or Carmen, or whoever, had miraculously reached down and confirmed his alibi. But he wouldn’t be tempting fate by now spending any more time with “the enemy”. No, he’d make his own way home.
As the two men now parted, Inspector James was mostly at peace with the story he’d heard; but there was just the smallest feeling he got that there was more to this than he’d heard. Call it a law enforcement hunch or a gut instinct; whatever. There was just a tiny feeling that something wasn’t quite right about this whole thing. He’d have to think more about this.
And Jesús left with sort of the same feeling; like maybe his story was believable to an extent; but he knew there were threads that this inspector might pull. He prayed that wouldn’t happen, but at this point in his miserable existence, he couldn’t get too worried about what might happen. His life was over anyway.
Chapter One - Carmen’s death
Alone owl hooted conversationally with the other denizens of the Mexican Chihuahuan desert basin, but the Senderos slept peacefully inside, oblivious to the raptor’s calls. The cool winter night meant the house was cold, and Jesús and his wife would have to radiate their own heat through the closeness of their bodies.
That was perfectly alright with both of them. The two young people were still in the “honeymoon” phase of their recent marriage, so cuddling warmly was a happy responsibility during the chilly nights. Jesús, a common, but gifted, construction worker, felt he had truly stumbled upon an incredible treasure when he had met Carmen in the Catholic church they both attended, Parroquia del Sagrado Corazón de Jesús (Sacred Heart Parrish).
The two quickly fell in love. At only 17 years old, Jesús was just slightly older than Carmen at 16 when they married.
Both of them had sheepishly informed Carmen’s parents and Jesús’s dad (his mom had passed) that they had given in to teenaged hormonal assaults with the predictable end result; Carmen had become pregnant. Jesús’s dad, José, took it in stride, more or less. It didn’t thrill him that his young son, who had lost his mother several years earlier, must now take on an even more adult life. (Fortune had also robbed José of his youth when his family suffered the not uncommon loss of a mother to the troubles of childbirth). Jesús had been nearly 11 years old when the loss of his mama had occurred; and it thrust him and his siblings into a devastatingly adult world. Their father, now burdened with severe pain in his heart that refused to abate, had turned to alcohol. He was never the same, and Jesús wasn’t either.
But José was in no condition to berate or condemn the children’s actions. He simply watched passively as their lives changed—just as he had done since God had ripped his precious Gracia from him. Jesús took his father’s indifference as grace (like his mother’s name) and, having lived with his miserable drunken dad for years, understood the man really needed grace even more than he and Carmen. The man had been absent as a father at a time when his children desperately needed him. At least he’d never been abusive in his drinking.
Carmen’s parents, though much more solid and respectable in their lives, were quite gracious as well. They didn’t condone what the young people had done in that they were unwed, and must now face the pragmatic issues of rearing a child, though they themselves were hardly more than children. The fact that they had violated the church’s doctrinal view on marriage was simply peripheral in their opinions; while it was a little distressing theologically, maybe, it was also the way many so called Christian couples lived these days—including many in the Catholic faith.
As a result, Carmen’s parents, Juan and Isabel Martín, after a brief and half-hearted scolding, afforded the young couple all the grace they could muster; under one condition. They must marry. There would be no need to make too much of a fuss about the baby’s unsettling start with the padre at the church so long as they quickly dealt with the outward appearances by having a proper wedding. Since the two had known each other for a few years, and the good father and other church members had watched their relationship go from 0 to 100 over time, it wouldn’t be too controversial; and if anyone harbored any self-righteous judgment, they’d just have to get over it. The time would come and they would baptize the baby without speculation or remonstration. That was that.
But beyond this requirement by Juan and Isabel, they would welcome the young couple as a new branch of the Martín family, and Jesús, in particular, would be a new son to Juan. He was excited about that new prospect since, while Isabel had provided him with two other beautiful daughters besides Carmen, they had no son. He needed help in a world dominated by the occasional “henhouse squawking” (he called it) and female drama. Often those disturbances had landed squarely in his otherwise well-ordered world, and he looked forward to male reinforcement.
Not that he minded the attention of his adoring female host; and he was so in love with Isabel that he could only smile on those occasions when life became tumultuous in the Martín home. As it turned out, Jesús and Carmen were apt students relishing the joy and success in her parent’s home and doing all they could to apply the lessons learned to their own new beginning.
When little Vida came along, Jesús could see the handwriting on the wall. He might be destined to suffer the same slings and arrows as his papa in law. He could see the coming double-team on the horizon; but honestly, he would never resist such a splendid predicament! From the moment of her birth, she unapologetically began to wrap papa around her little finger. Carmen could see it immediately, and to be honest, it delighted her. And it absolutely thrilled Jesús.
As for her and Jesús, she wondered how life could possibly get any better! She loved him fiercely, and though they lived in moderation that bordered on scarcity mostly, she never noticed. He sometimes came home in a funk birthed by his inability to better their condition, in his opinion, but at which she scoffed. His love transported her and little Vida to a different world, a fairytale world of love and joy untouched by human lack. She never complained, and that resulted in peace and solid inner strength for Jesús who depended on her deep faith, her unconditional love, and her always-in-bloom hope for their lives.
Juan, as predicted, employed Jesús in his home defense against the Amazonian horde that had only grown when Vida was born. He was thrilled with the young man, who was intelligent, ambitious and, most of all, deeply in love with his daughter and granddaughter. The entire family was happy, healthy, and prospering.
Carmen had taken on a job after Vida’s birth in a small family clinic near their home at the north end of the city of Chihuahua. The facility employed several nurses and their assistants, as well as a permanent physician’s assistant on staff. The family doctor visited twice a week to take care of patients, and other more specialized physicians made occasional rounds as well. Surprisingly, the small impoverished clinic had an X-ray machine and a diagnostic lab where they offered basic services. The building itself was old and in dire need of maintenance. The conditions were less than ideal for medical work, with sanitation basically the responsibility of the overworked nursing staff and two certified nurse’s assistants, who were more correctly the cleaning people. And the assistants were not too happy about that work either; they had not signed on to be the janitorial staff. But Carmen worked diligently, using every spare moment to study for her nursing classes with the private education her dad provided her with.
Her papa, Juan, had done much better than most. He had been educated solidly at the National Autonomous of Mexico in the most prestigious engineering program in all of Latin America. The university had excelled at providing higher education for 110 years, and Juan had been a super-star in the program. He had eventually settled into research as a PhD in Applied Physics with emphasis in the fields of Computer Science and Electrical Engineering. He was nearly genius level, and before long had initiated a start-up business that had risen to prominence almost overnight, with several innovative and patented designs propelling the company into international recognition. A new manufacturing facility in Hermosillo, in the nearby northwestern state of Sonora, had begun the work of producing new micro-chips that were taking the North American industrial complex by storm and making Juan, the CTO (the Chief Technology Officer) of the partnership quite wealthy almost overnight.
While he did not exactly fund his son-in-law and daughter’s new family completely, he quietly slipped money to them through Isabel as frequently as the Sendero family would tolerate it. Actually, Juan and Isabel were quite proud of Jesús and Carmen’s stubborn hard work to make their lives better. It was a good sign.
The little family had been prosperous so far, and Jesús’s bosses had positioned him more and more as a leader in the work he did. He had self-educated in electrical work at which he was gifted, and Juan had seen to helping him finance various training courses in a local trade school. Meanwhile, Carmen had pushed through the non-degreed LPN program and had soon finished her nursing education. She was now a fully certified Registered Nurse, making nearly as much money as her husband. It eased the pressure and Jesús and Carmen planned to buy and refurbish a home they had found not far from her parents.
When Carmen became pregnant with their second child, Juan and Isabel joined Jesús, Carmen, and Vida in ecstasy! Naturally, the men prayed for a boy, but in truth, a girl was acceptable!
Little Rosa came into the world with a loud, exuberant cry and a flushed face, lending to the decision to name her as they had. Now, their two girls, named “Life Path” and “Rose Path” (in English), left no doubt in anyone’s minds about the underlying tones of their names, that must someday define their lives. It was a tradition forged in either superstition or religious expectations. Or both.
From the very beginning, Vida, three years senior to her sister, had become the warrior “mommy”. She fairly hovered over Rosa, always vigilant, always protective. On one occasion, when the girls were 6 and 3, a starving mutt had appeared in the backyard of their home, snarling viciously at the girls, trying greedily to snatch some of their outdoor picnic lunch. It had terrified Carmen who retreated fearfully as she tried to gather her chicks in under her wings, while dad ran from a task he had been seeing to a short distance away. Before either of them could fully react to protect the girls, Vida had struck the beast with a stick she found on the ground, sending the mongrel off yelping unhappily. Mama and papa could only marvel, but Vida was undisturbed, and had treated the dangerous encounter with nonchalance. Meanwhile, little Rosa cheered her big sister on, saying, “consigue ese estúpido perro” (“get that stupid dog!”). She laughed, clapped her hands and squealed delightedly when her sister had accomplished that task as directed, and then checked Rosa carefully to ensure she was unharmed. This was to be the standard of behavior for the two children for all time.
Rosa was a child full of life, adventure and too much curiosity that left Vida with much work to fulfill her calling as Rosa’s body guard. She was always poking into whatever trouble she could find; unafraid, and often unwise. Still, the two maintained the happiest of childhoods, with no end to the good times in sight.
And that was quite true until Vida turned 15 years old and Rosa turned 12. Papa and Mama, along with Abuelo and Abuelita (Grand papa and mama) planned a grand Quinceañera celebration. It was a girl’s 15th year birthday and the traditional Mexican coming of age from girl to woman, and was celebrated all over Latin America. It was a marvelous party in Juan and Isabela’s large home, with all of their friends and family. It lasted late into the evening, and Vida was so excited and happy and she lavished in her mom and dad’s pride and joy over her. They introduced her to the attendees in the grandest traditions of royalty, ceremoniously delivered to the party in a limousine with her parents and Rosa. When she disembarked from the car, her spectacular Quinceañera gown stirred the onlookers to gasps of wonder and thunderous cheering and applause. It was a champagne-colored lace and bead embroidered affair, a ballroom gown with a deep V neck, and a built-in bra bodice. It was made of fine satin, sleeveless, with the gold lace applique forming the spaghetti straps that laced up on the back. It was incredibly beautiful on Vida!
The home’s wide foyer that stepped down into the rest of the home provided a fantasy entrance Cinderella would have been envious of. And, of course, all the young men in the room looked at this beauty in a new and dangerous way. That’s how Juan and Jesús saw things, anyway.
Part of the ceremony was the removal of Vida’s flat shoes from beneath her gown (by her papa), and their replacement with the more adult women’s high heels. Maybe, in a sense, it did mimic the story of Cinderella and her glass slippers.
The happy days of her blossoming into new womanhood floated by with her family thrilled at the changes forecast by the ceremony that now seemed to, in fact, be coming true. If Rosa knew her sister to be a watchful caretaker before, she saw in Vida a new love and camaraderie, as if Vida was now preparing the way for Rosa to join her sister in this new world soon. Rosa took great comfort and joy in that, knowing her own tendency toward adventure (and occasional mis-adventure) would never get out of hand with Vida nearby. Never any contention or petty jealousies between the girls, they were a happy team pushing into a wonderful future, it seemed.
One day soon after Vida’s celebration, though, their mother came home from the clinic coughing, blinded by an excruciating head-ache and seeming to suffer from some sort of flu. Additionally, she had a large foreboding warm, red swelling on her neck. The family put her to bed and fussed over her care for some days, but when the cough evolved into pneumonia, Carmen’s doctor became concerned. He did some tests, and the result was that Carmen had become infected with Methicillin-resistant Staphylococcus aureus (MRSA). The disease warranted concerned observation; though not unusually dangerous in most cases, it was troublesome in that it was resistant to multi-drug treatments often used to fight infections. In up to 30% of cases, the bacterial disease did turn fatal, often after the onset of associated sepsis. And MRSA infections often occurred in hospital or clinical settings where healthcare workers encountered sick patients and less than sanitary practices and conditions. Carmen knew all about this worrisome danger and worked conscientiously to avoid this very situation; but in the hectic work pace in the old building that never really saw a thorough cleaning, it seemed predestined that she (along with others) would eventually face this nemesis.
When Carmen didn’t respond well to the medications her doctor ordered, she gradually declined to the point of hospitalization. Jesús prayed for her, wept for her, and did everything in his power to coerce the hospital personnel to do everything in their power to heal her. But not his strength of will or her dad’s money could prevent the sad truth. She was dying.
On another dreary winter day, in her private room in the best hospital in Mexico, Medica Sur in Mexico City, she had her final moments with her family. She was weak, frail and barely able to remain conscious, although as her ultimate gift, she had seemed to rally a bit this day. Her eyes were brighter, her conversation less a breathless whisper than it had been earlier. The hospital staff had seen this phenomenon before and quietly warned the family that this might not be as much an indicator of healing as a final gift from God for the dying to say their last goodbyes, offer final words of love, or consider last reflections on their life. That had been the case with Carmen.
As her family gathered around, she glanced at each one and smiled a weak smile. Each one in the room tried their best to be strong and speak to their precious girl with self-control and a modicum of strained peacefulness, as they released her to God in good faith; with the hope of one day seeing her again in the new home they all looked for.
But for Rosa and her dad, there seemed to be no consolation and little in the way of ability to appear strong for mama. When Rosa collapsed to the floor at her bedside, in near hysterics, it wasn’t long until Jesús joined her in uncontrollable sobbing. A profoundly pitiful look overtook Carmen’s pretty features, now dimmed by her disease, and a tear trickled from her own eyes. She spoke a few final breathless words to her family, but especially to her husband and Rosa.
“I have loved you. I always will. Please remember me that way. Never despair; I am with you. I’m in your hearts always. And soon, we will be together again. I promise.” She then added a peculiar remark, “Great days lie ahead. I’ll be watching…”
At that final breath, her eyes closed peacefully, and a beatific smile came to her lips. The other family in the room now allowed the tears to flow, and attended to Jesús, Vida and Rosa as best they could. Juan helped Jesús into a chair by Carmen’s bedside, where her husband wailed and begged God to return her somehow. Juan, weeping himself, put his arms around Jesús as if he were a child and spoke soothing words that were of no effect, but revealed his sympathetic heart.
Isabel and Vida did the same for Rosa, who could barely take in a breath in the ferocity of her heaving sobs.
As the day ended, Juan and Isabel, even in their mourning and great sadness, met with the people who would now see to the final burial arrangements for Carmen. They would inter her in the graveyard of the Catholic Church in a beautiful spot, alone under an ancient spreading Chihuahua Oak tree.
The service had been a tender acknowledgement of Carmen’s gracious life with both family and community. Several of the family and Carmen’s co-workers (also in shock and pain) had given beautiful testimonies of Carmen’s wonderful life and care. The church priests had done what they could to comfort these wonderful parishioners, but a gray cloud loomed over them, as might be expected. The ceremony had been closed casket at the request of the family, who saw no good in lingering over an empty shell. Carmen was already home now, and their thoughts of her would look back to happier days.
At the graveside, the gentle padre had given a very brief and precious goodbye to her on behalf of those attending, using holy words from Scripture to remind everyone this wasn’t the end. Afterwards, a friend of Carmen from church sang the most beautiful and inspiring song; those gathered around would never forget it. Océanos, by Hillsong Worship reminded them Carmen’s soul would rest in God’s embrace; she was His.
At home, Jesús spent the better part of the next week in bed. Vida and Rosa went to stay with their grandparents, visiting papa occasionally to make sure he was okay, and was eating. Which he wasn’t.
A dark depression set in with him. While Rosa showed signs of coming out of her own funk with the special help of her sister in particular, Jesús had no such advocate—at least that was what he believed. He sank lower and lower, thinking only about Carmen’s death and why it had happened. Oh, yes! He had a lot of blame for God! In his midnights of agony, he cursed this supposed loving “Father” who could do such a thing to this now devastated family! But he also began to search feverishly for anyone else—any human being, or… business—who might have contributed to God’s cruel theft. As the days progressed, his mind wandered to the clinic.
If it had been cleaner. If the doctors had watched more closely for infections in their nursing staff. If the management had equipped them better and had better medicines at hand. If, if, if…
As can occur in people who have lived through a tragedy sometimes, Jesús began to focus his pain, anger, and confusion into a laser pinpoint. The clinic. However incredible it might seem to someone of a more rational frame of mind, his had descended into a fury completely fixed on the place of her work where she had contracted the disease.
It was a sort of shot in the arm to his energy. He started moving around, a sign to his daughters and in-laws that maybe he was on the mend. In reality, he lived every day to put together a some kind of plan to get payback for his loss. Or revenge.
And he secretly began to drink. At least, at first, it had been a secret. But eventually, his daughter’s visits revealed a disturbing new dependence on the bottle. He had never been a big drinker, although cerveza was nearly ubiquitous in Mexico as the beverage of preference. He hadn’t ever over indulged though; and his new turn wasn’t merely to more beer, but to hard liquor in the form of Tequila. He didn’t really enjoy the drink, and would probably not become dependent; but for now, he simply poured it on the fire of his misery for the numbing effect it had. It had the additional result of clouding his judgment.
It had now been almost a year since Carmen’s passing, and Jesús had gotten somewhat of a handle on the drinking. It still offered the sweet arms of eventual unconsciousness that ushered him into fitful sleep at night and was a weekend amigo that dulled his strained relationship with his children and family. But as his crazed strategy to seek revenge took form, he needed to have at least some clarity of thought. Strange, but in the end, his concentration on the task may have prevented him from entering the realm of full-blown alcoholism.
Meanwhile, the girls were doing all they could do to help papa while still groping their own ways through the darkness. Vida seemed to be able to join her grandparents in the search for healing, but Rosa’s outlook wasn’t so bright. She was definitely struggling to find new balance, and it showed in the way she was beginning to behave. The two girls had returned to their private schooling, but now Rosa’s grades were falling and she showed little of her former interest in her studies. She had gotten into trouble several times lately, for fighting; and in one case had been caught with a boy in a stairwell at school smoking and “hanging” on each other. When confronted, she’d been unrepentant and arrogant, something never seen in her behavior prior to the incident, in her family’s remembrance. More than the actual transgression, this frightened Isabel and Vida badly. What was happening to her? They had no idea how to deal with this new girl.
Juan was becoming impatient with Jesús, too. He made his way to work every day, and was always sober, but his company seemed to be less enthusiastic about the quality of his labor. He was making mistakes and had no more apparent ambition to improve in the business which truly disappointed his bosses. They did understand the reasons, and were completely sympathetic and supportive. But there comes a time when someone must somehow get over tragedies and go on with life, they believed. Juan had heard the whisperings from his job place, and couldn’t say he didn’t agree. It was time for Jesús to move on. Even from the memory of his daughter.
Jesús had no real plan beyond burning down the clinic. He would of course make sure it happened at night so no one would be hurt. And it was a “fortunate” coincidence that his skill matched the clinic’s need to be razed. He could have probably set the fire without ever having to set up the dangerous ruse; but it would probably have been more suspicious, not as easily concealed.
It came about that cold winter’s night, a dreary reminder of the day of Carmen’s death, that the Clinica Familiar (Family Clinic) fell to the raging fire of the fury of a husband who had little left to live for, in his own mind.
But that wasn’t true. Life, like sprouting pines on the blackened ground after a forest fire, would one day spring up again.
