Chapter 12: Día de Cerdos

Father Paolo Da Rimini was preparing for St. Martin’s Feast. His day would be consumed with celebrating a noon mass in which the parishioners would bring their pigs in to be blessed. Father Paolo would bless the pigs before they were butchered. It was a Spanish tradition carried over from the first Franciscan priests that the fattened pigs would meet their fate on this feast day. The parishioners had a saying

"Todos los dias de cerdo es el dia de San Martin',

loosely translated it meant "every pig has its day on Saint Martin’s day”. Preparing the altar for the sacraments his routine was interrupted by Consuela, the rectory secretary.

“Father, you have a phone call in the rectory. I think it's your niece.”

“Why is my niece calling me today, of all days?"

"I don't know Father, she sounds upset. I think you better take it."

Father Paolo picked up the telephone as he reviewed crib notes on his yellow legal pad. A young woman’s voice was on the line.

"Hola, Tio?”

"Francesca, mi sobrina, Como esta? How are doing?"

“Not good Tio, I need to see Abuela, I’m in Lompoc at the bus station. I know it is a lot to ask but … can you pick me up?"

"Oh, my child, lo siento, I'm very busy. I’m celebrating mass in an hour and doing the blessings later.”

Paolo thought for a moment and continued. “I will ask Chico. You remember Chico? The young man that does chores for the Mission. He’s arriving shortly. I will tell him he has a more important job."

"Si, Tio. How will I know it's him? It’s been almost three years.”

“Francesca, he is very tall, over six feet and for the love of God he has his mother's eyes! He’ll be happy to see you."

“How will he remember me? I've changed also.”

“He’ll know” Paolo volunteered.

"Gracias Tio." she replied.

“Dios sea contigo. God be with you.”

Chico arrived at the bus station in a polished '58 sky blue Chevy Apache short bed pick-up. Raised panel guards dressed in white, ran from the front fender to the truck bed that resembled native American arrows. Other than his family, he loved that truck. He parked in a no parking zone and scanned the bus station looking for Francesca. She was sitting on a green wooden bench with a suitcase in her lap. He inched the truck forward and rolled down the window.

"Francesca Rimini?”

“Chico?” she asked.

"It's me, but don't call me Chico, I go by Chuck now. Please call me Chuck!”

“Chuck? That sounds awfully Anglo,” Francesca mused.

“Jump in and I’ll take you to Abuela’s!"

He stared at Francesca. “Wow, you look great! But you always looked good to me! What happened to your lip?” Francesca paused before she spoke.

“I... fell at work?"

"You fell? I hope it doesn’t hurt much. Boy, it’s so good to see you. How long has it been?”

" It’s been a long time." Francesca replied sadly.

“Have you seen my Abuela lately?” she continued.

"Yes but… Father Rimini didn't want to mention it when he spoke to you, he didn't want to worry you, but Abuela been acting very strange lately.”

"No, he didn’t. What do you mean strange?"

Chico released the parking brake and shifted the column shifter into drive. The Chevy lunged forward, as Chico drove forward and spoke.

“Strange like, two days ago, she was working in her garden, you know how she is, and she must have fainted and fell.She laid out in that field until nightfall before one of her neighbors found her. The neighbor said she was lying face up peaceably staring at the stars. Of course, the neighbor told me a barn owl told him to check on her. You know, the old one's still believe in that hocus pocus, mumbo jumbo.”

"Chico, she believes animals can talk.”

"Yeah, my people also, but you know what the old man also told me"

"What did he say?” she asked.

"He said, when he reached Abuela, she told him she was trying to die, but a crow came along and told her to live a little longer because you were coming home. And here you are! It sounded just like the crazy talk of an old woman. No disrespect Frankie, just saying. Is it true? Are you coming home to stay?”

Francesca could not contain her emotions. She started to sob, removed her shades to wipe her tears, and then realized that Chico was staring at her.

"What happened to your face? Is that the result of the fall also?” Chico asked suspiciously.

"Chico, please just take to me Abuela. I really need to see that beautiful wrinkled face. Please!"

Chico muttered under his breath.

"I pray to God you’re telling me the truth! I wouldn’t want to be the dude that hurt you!”

Chico pushed the chrome accelerator to the floor, kicking up stones and debris as he sped off. Francesca sat sobbing softly. Chico looked at her and pleaded.

“If someone hurt you Francesca, you have to tell me.”

Francesca didn’t answer and didn’t want to involve the only boy, that was ever good to her. She was ashamed and thought he would think less of her. She couldn’t stop thinking about the boys that raped her. She didn't know how or when, but her cousin and his friends would someday pay. But unlike the pigs that were blessed before their demise, there would be no blessing for Roberto Delgado and his accomplices on their "Día de Cerdos"