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Fresa

On the return of his hometown, Valentino discovers that his hometown has changed along with the turbulent decade of the 1960's. His family stuck in the violent past of World War 2 as well as the contemporary fear of the Vietnam War loom over him and his two brothers. However, fear comes in many forms.

TonyT · realistisch
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10 Chs

Turn Around, Look at Me

"So how long has it been, Chente?" asks Tino.

"I never really thought as mom as Plato", says mom. "What's a Play-toe, who's a Play-toe?", asks their mom.

Chente and Tino look at each other and begin to laugh. " What's so funny? You two, aren't saying something dirty, are you?", questions their mom. The two brothers stop laughing at look each other, then they both start laughing harder. Their mom gets up and slaps Chente in the back of the head causing him to stop laughing.

"Ama calm down", says Tino while still laughing. "Plato is a greek-", says Chente but is cut off by Tino," Who had a big brain, you know. A real Poindexter."

"Siguele Poindexter and I'll throw you out of the house again!" yells their mom. "You didn't kick me out, I left", replies Tino with a smile. "Talking about leaving, have you heard anything about Salvador, Plato?", asks Tino.

"No, thankfully. Me and Chente watch the news every night and his name doesn't come on", says their mom. "That's good, I'm glad he is still alive", says Tino. Their mom stands up and prepares to put her dish away. "Ama, puedes servir me mas?", ask Tino. "We don't have anymore, that was whats left", says his mom.

That night, the family gathers around a small television set in their living room. They all sit silently waiting for the nightly Vietnam report. Tino opens another beer can in preparation. The sound of the can expelling gas cause's his mom to snap at him.

"Callate!", says their mom. Tino raises is arms to say what did I do but his mom doesn't look at him.

"Sometimes I have dreams that I'm over there with Salvi, I can't tell if they're dreams or nightmares. Maybe, it could just be that I miss mi carnal", says Tino.

"Sometimes I wish that he went with you Valentino, instead of trying to be like your dad. I dreamt many times that I get the letter from selective services with Vicente's name. Before I wake up, I kiss his corpse goodbye as he walks out the door", says his mom.

"Do you not have any faith in me?!" says Vicente. "No of course not. You're a lover not a fighter. You're too delicate for go into that hell", replies his mom.

As Tino takes his sip of beer he says," Chente? No what do you mean, he is a bonafide killer. I remember when he was little he ripped the wings off a butterfly with a smile. A smile! He's a cold blooded motherfucker!", says Tino. Chente begins to giggle from his brother's jokes. "If those commies are as tough as butterflies, Chente would end the war in a day. With no one's help," Tino continues.

"Ok be quiet now, it's starting", says their mom.

"For tonight casualty report", the news anchor says.

Then white text along a blue background begin to scroll across the tv. The white text reads Men's name along with their birthdate as well as their hometown.

In order the screen reads:

Mickey Burke, D.O.B- Jun. 14,1949. Bronx,NY.

Romero Hernandez, D.O.B.- Sept. 3,1948. Phoenix, TX.

Bennet Reader, D.O.B.- Aug. 22, 1948. Bronx, NY.

As they watch the names, they are focusing intensely. Almost as if all the oxygen in the room had escaped and the three family members were sitting in a vacuum. Chente begins to think about himself because he is at the doorstep of becoming 18.

He wonders what will he do if he got that draft notice, what his family would do, what Martha would do. Should he just be a draft dodger or just willing go fight. He also begins to think that maybe his mom is right and that there is a good chance that he will not return. Chente can't help but to think about dying lonely and afraid in the jungle, covered in mud and just thinking about a home he won't be coming home to.

Chente thinks to himself that if that were to ever come, he hopes that he would go out not knowing that he is going to die, like an explosion. A death without actual awareness of your death sounds comforting to him.

Clay Robinson,D.O.B- Nov. 17, 1946. New Orleans, LA.

Just like that, the broadcast is over. Just like that, the room is filled with air again.

"Did any of you see his name?" asks their mom.

"No", says Tino.

"Gracias Diosito!", exclaims their mom.