Tell Your True Tale at Your Library

Introduction to Volume Seven

The stories always get so good. That’s what I love about the storytelling project I began years ago known as Tell Your True Tale. Sometimes it takes a while. Writing, as our motto says, is about rewriting – and editing and more rewriting. But eventually you get to great, unexpected tales – like “Padrino,” which leads this volume by Lena Solis-Aguilera. Lena tells of her…

Padrino

I met Padrino in a dream before I met him in person. I dreamt about a man with a horsetail whisk, dancing and waving it around his head. He was dressed in white. I told Costello, my boyfriend, about my dream. “That’s my padrino,” he said. His godfather. He wasn’t just Costello’s padrino; he was his surrogate father. After leaving the City (and Costello) in…

Manifest Destiny

I wore a pink satin dress with a bow that tied in the back. My dad wore a white short-sleeved button down shirt. His mother taught him to always wear a collared shirt when going out in public. It was 1989. It must have been summer. I sat on my dad’s left arm. It was easy to carry a four-year old who weighed so little.…

Aureliano and Esther

Aureliano Valdovinos is walking under the October moonlight. The dirt road is full of shadows, but he is not afraid. He can feel his gun at his waist, moving with him. He's been walking for more than one hour. Once he gets to the crossroad, he will catch a bus to Sahuayo; a second bus drops him off in San Pedro Caro, Michoacan, where he…

Smoke Screen

In our family no one ever separated and God forbid they even think of divorcing. Granny Love always said, “Course they’s some orta-had nevah got hitched in the first place.” My Aunt Bertha Mae was scared to divorce. “God may strike me dead ifen I divorce. I jest wants to be rid of ‘im,” she would say. This is her story. Bertha Mae was the…

Toque de Chicharra

Naked, standing in a puddle of water, my hands were cuffed behind my back, and the redhead again asked where I got the weed. Once more, I lied. Behind me, he inched closer and spread my legs with a kick from his boot. Pain exploded from my balls to my brain, zapped through my eyes and singed the ends of my hair. Dressed in khaki…

Fruit of Labor

The flat-bed truck rumbled along the back roads of Ventura County, California. Don Luis crouched in a corner. His buddies’ elbows poked his ribs. It had been a long day, climbing ladders, filling sacks, emptying lemons into crates on the way down. But it beat picking beets in Nebraska. He’d returned home penniless after that stint, despite pleas to officials at the border bracero office…

Crazies In The Hood

My family thought I was crazy buying a house in a crime-infested, gang-ridden part of L.A. Upon my return from Spain I had lived with my sister in the San Fernando Valley to get back on my feet, then eventually moved over to West L.A. into an apartment on Beverly Glen that a friend was vacating. Staying with my older sister and her partner in…

Heaven Knows

I remember my brother Oscar and his friend Richard sneaking into Richard’s bedroom with the album under his armpit covered by his jacket. My parents decided to visit the Garcia family for a while on that Saturday afternoon in March of 1976. We kids attended Our Lady of Soledad School in East Los Angeles. “Hey Oscar, there’s a record player in here,” Richard said. Then…

Sonias

1984 “I bought a theater for the house,” Manuel beamed. He had been waiting outside the apartment complex to catch Sonia when she pulled in. “What’s that?,” Sonia asked eyeing the huge box Manuel was holding. Manuel started for the door with an impish grin. Once inside he tore open the box and began connecting the contraption to the TV, “it’s a VCR!” They had…

My Okasan

There I was butt-naked in all my glory. All of my fullness on display to behold. Though I dug deep to exude some composure, I moved as graceful as a mother seal sliding past a flock of watching seagulls. I pushed myself forward, head high. Being fully exposed with nothing to hide behind, I sensed that this was going to be a moment to remember.…

Fire

The average house fire burns at 1,100 degrees Fahrenheit. So I am in San Francisco having dinner; gorgonzola penne with shrimp, clam chowder, and sourdough toast at Cioppino’s on the wharf. My cell phone rings. It is my younger sister. “You have to come home! There’s been a fire. The house burned. Please hurry.” “Is everyone OK? Mom?” “Yes, she made it out. But ...the…

Susana

The men from Rancho Chacuiloca knocked on Susana’s door bearing the news of her husband, Santiago. In an attempt to defend his friend from a grave accusation made by the Federales, he received a blow to the head with a .30-30 rifle. It was the 13th of November, 1913, three years into the Mexican Revolution; Zacatecas had become the battlefield between the agraristas – land…

¡Ay Te Wacho!

When I was little, my Gramma would chase me around saying “I’m gonna eat you up!” and when she would catch me, she would pinch me and bite me. I would squeal – not because I was in pain, but because I found delight in her love and attention. As an adult, I turned the tables. I would grab her and hug her tight, kiss…