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The awful grandmother says it all in Spanish, which I understand when I'm paying attention.

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"What?" I say, though it's neither proper nor polite.

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"¿Quieres chicle?" the lady asks in a spanish way too big for her mouth.

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La Virgin de Guadalupe on the main altar because she's a big miracle, the crooked crucifix on a side altar because that's a little miracle.

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There are those walking to church on their knees. Some with fat rags tied around their legs and others with pillows, one to kneel on, and one to flop ahead.

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"Por favor," says the lady. "¿Un foto?" pointing to her camera.
"Sí."

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who only a few hours before was breakfasting on brain and goat tacos

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the awful grandmother hears as "¿Güat?"

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"I'm a B-Fifty-two bomber, you're a German," and shoots me with an invisible machine gun.

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la ofrenda box before the altar to La Divina Providencia. Lighting votive candles and genuflecting. Blessing herself and kissing her thumb.

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"who only a few hours before was breakfasting on brain and goat tacos "

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We cannot spend our allowance on fried cookies

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"What?" I say, though it's neither proper nor polite."

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I'd rather play flying feather dancers, but if I tell my brother this, he might not play with me at all.

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"There are those walking to church on their knees. Some with fat rags tied around their legs and others with pillows, one to kneel on, and one to flop ahead."

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"I'm a B-Fifty-two bomber, you're a German," and shoots me with an invisible machine gun. I'd rather play flying feather dancers

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my little brother is imagining he's a flying feather dancer, like the ones we saw swinging high up from a pole on the Virgin's birthday.

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"Por favor," says the lady. "¿Un foto?" pointing to her camera.

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dropping pesos into la ofrenda box before the altar to La Divina Providencia. Lighting votive candles and genuflecting. Blessing herself and kissing her thumb. Running a crystal rosary between her fingers.

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La Virgen de Guadalupe is waiting inside behind a plate of thick glass.

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those clear cone-shaped suckers that make everything look like a rainbow when you look through them

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We're waiting for the awful grandmother who is inside dropping pesos into la ofrenda box before the altar to La Divina Providencia.

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I leave Keeks running around in circles - "I'm the Lone Ranger, you're Tonto."

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who only a few hours before was breakfasting on brain and goat tacos

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"I'm a B-Fifty-two bomber, you're a German," and shoots me with an invisible machine gun. I'd rather play flying feather dancers, but if I tell my brother this, he might not play with me at all.

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There are those walking to church on their knees. Some with fat rags tied around their legs and others with pillows, one to kneel on, and one to flop ahead. There are women with black shawls crossing and uncrossing themselves.

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For Auntie Light-skin, who only a few hours before was breakfasting on brain and goat tacos after dancing all night in the pink zone.

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There are those walking to church on their knees. Some with fat rags tied around their legs and others with pillows, one to kneel on, and one to flop ahead.

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"Girl. We can't play with a girl." Girl. It's my brothers' favorite insult now instead of "sissy." "You girl," they'll yell at each other. "You throw the ball like a girl."

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There's also a gold crucifix bent crooked as a mesquite tree when someone once threw a bomb...the crooked crucifix on a side altar because that's a little miracle.

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Lighting votive candles and genuflecting. Blessing herself and kissing her thumb. Running a crystal rosary between her fingers. Mumbling, mumbling, mumbling.

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Keeks swoops past again, this time yelling, "I'm Flash Gordon. You're Ming the Merciless and the 🤬."

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I leave Keeks running around in circles - "I'm the Lone Ranger, you're Tonto."

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For the grandfather who hasn't believed in anything since the first PRI elections.

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"¿Quieres chicle?" the lady asks in a spanish way too big for her mouth"