1989: a story of two misfit kids from mid-west america making it big in the big apple. and in the true sense of the american dream they find themselves in a life of sex, money, drugs, and a little rock n roll too.
warnings: adult content, mature rea...
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Alma
She was born in Houston, Texas, in the spring of 1962. Her father, Antonio, was a multigenerational Tejano. Her mother, Maria, from Jalisco, Mexico, lived in Texas. They met through her brother. He and her father worked as young men together doing commercial landscaping. One day, he was invited for a cold beer after a hot, sticky, humid day on the job. On her brother's orders, she met the men sitting under the shade of the back porch with two bottles of beer for them. Politely, he took off his hat and thanked her, and from then on, he couldn't stop thinking about her.
Alma was nine months old when they left Texas. She had no recollection of her life there. Her parents left with others, mostly friends, who told them about good-paying work in Missouri. So they took the chance. Starting over fresh as a family unit now. They lived short-term in several other places until they ultimately settled in Strathburg when she was four. So it was the only place she'd ever known.
Growing up in the town, however, came with some strife. They didn't look like everyone else. They had tan skin, and their names were difficult for the hicks to pronounce. She didn't know it then, as she was too young, but when she got older, she could recall the racist remarks being made about them. Her parents didn't fight it, instead they took it. Eventually, everyone realized that they couldn't run them out of town, and so they tolerated them.
Her parents were as good as you'd want any parents to be. They wanted her so badly. They loved her so fiercely. Her dad would toss a ball around with her, and her mom would let her play in her makeup. They did their best to keep up with her, even in their older age. However, she could see a look flash across their faces, distant and mournful at times. Her mother thought of her sister Liliana, wondering if she had lived, would she and Alma look alike. Her dad taught her to be independent because he didn't know how long he and his wife would be around for her. Around him, she was a bit of a tomboy, learning to do oil changes and fixing flat tires. Activities he would have taught his son Leo if he had lived.
She learned she was under the shadow of her deceased siblings rather quickly. Ever since she could remember, they had an altar in their home under a framed photo of Our Lady of Guadalupe. Her hands clasped and her gaze low, keeping watch of the little white ceramic urn that stored their porcelain ashes. It may have been macabre to some, but Alma never thought it any different.
Being an only child, some nights she wished for them too. Wished to not be so lonely, wished that her parents wouldn't look at her sadly in times they thought she didn't notice. They loved her, but she was a reminder of what was lost and what they could have had too.
She longed to be seen. She was given freedom in exchange for good grades. Even if it was the late '70s and most kids were left to their own devices, she was the only focus of her parents. There was not much you could do when there was no one else to blame.
When she was thirteen, she went shopping with her mother for clothes that were more in style. Her mother freaked when she put on a more form-hugging cap-sleeve blouse. They left with knits and formless tunics, much to her dismay and protests. Alma's body was changing, and that upset her mother. It worried her. That evening, Alma pulled a tee-shirt taut behind herself and looked at her reflection in the vanity mirror. She had boobs. She knew that, but she didn't think about it any other way other than she was growing up. This was what was supposed to happen. That night, she saw just another thing that made her different. They were big for her age. She looked down at her hips, and they seemed even wider now, too. Her body was now just another barrier that kept her from being seen.
