The Chicano/Latino Literary Prize (19 page)

Francisco X. Alarcón

First Prize: Poetry

poems

fill up

pages

tattoos

puncture

flesh

After Derra Caulk in
About Time: “An Anthology
of California Prison Writing
(1980)

each morning

I wake up

alone

pretending

that my arm

is the flesh

of your body

pressing

against my lips

cada mañana

me despierto

solo

fingiendo

que mi brazo

es la carne

de tu cuerpo

pesando

sobre mis labios

teñida de noche

tengo la piel

en este país

de mediodía

pero más oscura

tengo el alma

de tanta luz

que llevo adentro

stupid

rags

soaked

in blood

trapos

imbéciles

empapados

en sangre

nosotros

los que nacimos

marcados

de extranjeros

en nuestra propia

tierra

los que pagamos

con moneda dura

hasta por este aire

que nos raja y niega

los que regalamos

todo lo que todavía

no nos roban

nosotros

los que nada poseemos

los reducidos

a sombras

los que llevamos

en los ojos

una noche cruel

y oscura

sólo nos reconocemos

en las estrellas:

sabemos que nuestra

patria

está por hacerse

un beso

es una puerta

que se abre

un secreto

compartido

un misterio

con alas

un beso

no admite

testigos

un beso can't

be captured

traded

or sated

un beso

is not just

a kiss

un beso is

more dangerous

sometimes

even fatal

Lucha Corpi

First Prize: Short Story

This morning I stood before their graves. Grandma and Silvia buried beneath my feet. I sat there for a while. It was peaceful and warm. I was ready to get up when I felt a short trembling just below my navel. It was like the soft flapping of wings inside me. Blood rushed to my face and my heart pounded in my chest as if to welcome the sign. And yet, I felt alone. All the people I wanted to share that moment with were unable to reach out and put their hands on my belly and touch you through me, my little one. The years of loneliness I had always managed to shun fell on me suddenly. And for the first time, I felt out of place in my natural surroundings. I did not belong any longer. But where did I belong? Mexico, I thought; I could go to Mexico, visit Grandma's hometown and all the other towns Grandma used to tell me about when I was little. Maybe I belonged there, but I knew I didn't. Mexico
was my past, the place that smelled like my grandmother's clothes, a smell of fresh herbs, the smell of wet soil after the storm … a refuge.

On my way back from the cemetery, I went past the spot where Silvia and I walked on that afternoon she arrived. Then we had talked all through her unpacking and bathing. And after preparing a light supper we had sat in the back patio overlooking the lake to wait for Laz.

“I had forgotten how beautiful the lake is,” Silvia said with a sigh.

“Yes, it is, but you must have seen many beautiful cities and lakes …” A silly comment I immediately regretted saying. I didn't want to awaken memories in her and make her long for any other time but then.

“Not as beautiful as this one now,” she said and looked at me as if she could read my mind and wanted to put it at ease. “What made Laz want to settle here? He's from Texas, isn't he?”

“Isn't that reason enough?” I answered quickly, and we both laughed. Grandma had always told us how ugly Texas was compared to California and how she hated those rude rednecks who had no love for the land, or for Mexicans for that matter.

“Grandpa Lewis was the exception, of course,” Silvia said amusedly, then looked away. “How wrong Grandma was. In the cities of California there is no love for the land or for Mexicans either.” She was silent for a while, then asked, “How did you convince Grandma to let you marry Laz?”

“Oh, that was no problem. Laz won her over. He told her he was the exception, too, just like Grandpa. And besides, his family had come from Mexico, too. Anyway, she was getting old and wanted to see me well cared for before she died.”

“Does he come from a rich family in Texas? I mean …,” Silvia hesitated, “you've never said anything about his family in your letters …” I knew she felt uncomfortable.

“Don't be embarrassed. I've asked him the same thing, but he doesn't tell me. He just laughs and says it doesn't matter,” I answered in a low voice. I knew Laz was in the house. I could hear the water running, doors opening and closing discretely, and his moving about getting dressed. “I guess I don't know much about his life before I met him.”

“Has he ever taken you back to Texas to meet them?” Silvia was intrigued.

“No. He says his parents are dead and he doesn't want to see his brother again. He left home when he was very young and hasn't been back since. He enlisted in the army and was sent overseas. From there on, I don't know much. He says he doesn't want to remember. He only wants what he has today, now, our life together on the ranch.” I must have looked troubled because Silvia came over and put her arms around me.

“Maybe he's right. It's not important.” She smiled. I tried to find comfort in her words and her warmth, but I couldn't.

“Anyway,” I said childishly, trying to cover up my uneasiness, “it's all very romantic, don't you think? I'm married to a man with a dark past!”

Silvia smiled. She walked to the far end of the patio to see the sun setting on the other side of the lake. I stayed close to the door waiting for Laz.

He came out a while later and kissed me. We didn't say a word. I looked at him, gentle, always smiling as if he had no care in the world, and my doubts were dispelled.

… Cheated my way out of death always darian loved me like a son no idealist went along with me no children only me laz, money is for you accept it can't accept it darian take it give it to the poor what you please don't care anything happens you are set for life bloody money darian can't refuse it laz blood on my soul not yours go they're near before it's too late i won't leave you darian such romantic go go they'll be here soon nothing left for you here boat on fire from the rocks single gunshot thundering in the inertness of the late afternoon from rock to rock to the small cavern darkness coldness stillness crouching a little boy numbness wanted to cry couldn't darian body growing colder colder crabs forced myself to eat vomited three times couldn't hold their raw meat darian nourishing me even after death eating his body through them tide finally took him back sea and time forever grave of water should have been mine crabs snapping off piece by piece while alive gunshots early morning noon late night men waging war to build peace naive like me worst kind of mercenaries we were pacts with the devil to win the way to heaven something better beyond the sea beyond and i found you eva and i found peace i thought silvia wasn't so lucky lucky no she was she died and i live i live …

Laz stretches his legs, rubs them up and down, as if they were numb. He is ready to get up and walk to the lakeshore as he does every evening. He looks in my direction, but he doesn't move from his chair. He seems to hesitate and then sags back in the chair. I want to run to him, have him hug me, tell me everything will be all right again. But I can't move from this chair, either.

That first night Silvia spent here we stood together by the door to the patio watching her. She seemed so enthralled by the reflections of twilight on the lake waters, and was so still that, for a moment, she looked like one of those beautiful mannequins I saw in a fashion magazine she'd sent me.

I was so eager to have them meet, I was ready to call her, but Laz held me back. Instead, he walked toward her and stopped a few steps from her. He looked intently at her. I stood motionless by the door, and for an instant, I felt like a spectator watching a play. I was the outsider. I saw them standing there, Laz holding her hand, not saying anything. My imagination took off at full
speed. Laz had always teased me about my romantic flights. He was right. As stupid as it was, I had already begun to see them as characters in one of those syrupy, romantic novels I used to read as a young woman. And I had forgotten they were my cousin and my husband, and not two estranged lovers meeting after a long and painful absence. I was so caught up in their fictitious love tale I had not noticed they were standing before me, looking bemusedly at me, Laz chuckling and Silvia waving her hands in front of my eyes.

I came back from my reverie only to feel embarrassed; a child caught play-acting, a torrid first kiss with a mirror. But I laughed. I was always laughing then, at myself, at anything that was funny.

Yes, it was a happy and fascinating evening that day my cousin Silvia came home. Through all the trying and painful evenings that followed after she was gone, I have chosen to remember that particular one. I listened to them talk about all the wonderful places they had visited. All of a sudden, Laz was transformed, renewed. He was fifty-one, but his face glowed youthfully. Before me was a man I had been married to for fifteen years, and a stranger at the same time, with whom I was falling in love all over again.

Yet in the back of my mind, questions were beginning to shape painfully and slowly. Why had he denied this part of himself to me? Why had he married me and settled here when he could have had an exciting life elsewhere? I couldn't even give him children. He was nineteen years older than me. Had I become his child-wife instead? God knows, during our married life I had been as foolish and playful as a child. But he seemed to enjoy my foolishness, and I so wanted to please him. It had never occurred to me someone in him starved for something else. But most of all, that night I became aware of my limited experience. A sense of loss was beginning to seize me. It made me tremble.

I have never been able to hold pain, embarrassment, or fear for very long. So by the time I was preparing for bed, I had already dismissed those thoughts as quickly as they had come to mind.

… Silvia the semidarkness of the patio the desolate look at one moment intense feverish brilliance in your eyes immediately after your lower lip trembling flushed cheeks dried mouth quiet feeling of desperation just above your stomach it was like looking into my own face i wanted to put my arms around you there is a way out there is instead i stood next to you paralyzed my own pain unbearable it was all coming back the man i was long ago back to haunt me you extended your hand to me distantly a cold hand trembling i held it in both hands we knew silvia not brave like you water am so cold moon shines shines relentless you mustn't lose hope no hope laz dying few months am so cold laz i will hold you silvia i won't go away don't be afraid not afraid laz i don't regret anything in my life pain hurt love disappointment hard work all my life looking
for a place like this no need to trade things off explain them away everything simple funny it had been here all along laz i can't see you am here won't go away i want you to go away laz i can't you must don't look back we must spare eva don't tell her promise laz let her think kindly of me she loves you silvia she needs you laz go away go back to the house this i must do alone silvia eva silvia …