The next morning, I awoke to the sound of laughter, Spanish music playing, and Adam crying. Maggie
came in to say good morning and to make sure I had what I needed to get dressed. She said her sisters
were here again and that breakfast would be ready in an hour or so. She had brought me a large cup of
coffee and a bowl of freshly cut fruit and a small plate of empanadas.
“This is a pretty good meal right here. There’s more?, I asked as I attacked the fruit bowl and small pies.
“Yes Silly, we are preparing a traditional Southwest breakfast and Mom is making everything from
scratch.”
“Is it alright if I smoke in here?
“Of course, you see how my mom smokes. Richard and my older brothers are here if you want to join
them outside.” she added.
“I need to shower first, but I’ll be quick. I can’t wait to meet everyone.”
Maggie gave me a quick kiss and hug and left. I pulled out a Kool and enjoyed it with my coffee before a
quick shower and put on jeans and a t-shirt and slid into a pair of loafers. I opened the door and saw
that the kitchen was full of adults and small children. The ladies were rolling tortillas, frying sausage and
strips of bacon, and finishing another batch of the delicious small pies. Everyone looked up at the sound
of the door opening and I became the center of attention. Grandma Tina, as everyone called her, led the
charge and gave me a hug and a kiss on the cheek. She introduced her daughters, Lenore and Linda, the
fraternal twins, Priscilla, who was the oldest, and then moved on to the grandkids. Lenore and her
husband, Jerry had two girls, Melanie and Misti, and Priscilla had her daughter Tracy with her. The boys
came in during the introductions and I met Rudy, the oldest, then Pete and Richard. They grunted or
nodded greetings and one of them made a comment in Spanish that drew a withering look from Tina,
and created a silence. We went into a large living room and I was seated in a huge leather recliner that
was almost too comfortable. Jerry sat on an adjacent couch and we made small talk which lasted until
we were directed to our seats in the kitchen.
I was seated between Maggie and Grandma Tine, with Richard and Rudy directly in front of me. The
table was laden with food. In addition to what I had witnessed earlier, there was an egg casserole,

refried beans, homemade corn and flour tortillas wrapped in cloth, and placed in wicker baskets. The
settings were from the family’s China collection and included matching bowls for different sauces and
small vessels containing preserves, butter patties and syrups for the large platter of pancakes and
waffles in the center of the table. The plate in front of me looked huge but I doubt it could hold even a
small portion of what was in front of me. Maggie grabbed my plate and began to fill it without any
direction from me. What she couldn’t fit on the plate she added to paper plates between us. Jerry was
asked to bless the food and we dug. I noticed that nearly everyone had placed a dark green pepper on
their plates and took bites of it with their food. Grandma Tina caught me looking and asked if I liked hot
seasoning.
“The hotter the better. “, I said. I reached for the large pepper she handed me and took a healthy bite.
Almost immediately, I broke out in a sweat, my eyes were burning from the fumes , and I had to choke
back the urge to bring up the hot chili, and everything else in my stomach.
“That’s hot.”, I managed to gasp before reaching for a glass of ice water. Water seemed to make the
burning sensation worse.
“Keep eating, especially the tortillas and pancakes. They help soak up the oils from the chili and your
tongue will get used to the heat.”, Grandma Tina advised. The rest of the table were laughing so hard
they couldn’t eat as they saw me struggle to cool off. I was determined to prove I could handle it, so I
included bits of the pepper with large portions of my eggs and waffles, until it was gone. The burning
sensation on my tongue went away and I was abler to enjoy the flavor the chilli pepper added to the
meal. I thanked the ladies for their hard work and surprised them when I asked for recipes for the
morning’s dishes.
“You make him do the cooking Sis?”, Lenore asked.
“Wait until you taste his cooking and you’ll see why”, Maggie replied.
“Hey Barron, My brothers and I want to take you for a tour of Roswell if you’re done eating?”, Richard
asked as they got up from the table.
“Sure, give me a minute to let some of this out.”, I replied, massaging the large bulge in my stomach. I
motioned Maggie to follow me to the restroom.
“Did you know about this? “Nobody told me anything. But they seem to like you, it will be okay.”
“But you said they hated black people! They might take me out to the middle of nowhere and do
whatever.”
“They better not!”, Maggie assured me as we made our way to the front of the house.
The brothers were waiting for me in an old rust -colored pickup that was parked in the street. I sat
between Rudy who weas driving, and Richard who had the passenger seat. Pete was in the bed of the
truck with a guy I hadn’t met, and no one introduced me. Jerry had announced that they had to go open
their dry-cleaning business and would see me at dinner. I had no choice but to relax and keep aware of
my surroundings. I memorized the turns and noteworthy buildings or landmarks in case I needed to get
away from these guys. Richard gave me a little history of Roswell and the family. Their father was a
womanizer and Tina was a heavy drinker for most of their lives. They grew up in foster care and with
relatives and had only recently renewed the relationship with their mother. The town of Roswell was in
the midst of transitioning from the loss of the base, and its effect on the local economy. As he continued
the history lesson , I noticed the city was falling behind us and the paved roads were turning to dirt
roads with no signage or traffic markings. The dust trail behind us grew as we made our way deeper into
the countryside. The radio that had been playing a top twenty list was now belting out Spanish songs.
We pulled off of what was supposedly a road and after a sharp right turn, we stopped in the middle of a
rock formation that was hidden from the road. The guys in the back jumped out and dusted themselves,
coughing and laughing as they made their way to the front.
“We’re here, Richard said, now get out.”.
His voice had changed, and the roughness of his speech startled me. I glanced at Rudy and the look on
his face was as stern as Richard’s voice. I turned and jumped out of the truck, ready to put up as much of
a fight as I could. Pete was holding a large knapsack in one hand and a small plastic bag in the other. His
wide grin and cold stare added to the tension. He and the unknown guy who had ridden in the back with
him, slowly advanced towards us and I balled up my fists ready to lash out at whoever came close.
They switched to conversing in Spanish and I figured the end was near.
“We came out here to welcome you to the family , Esse!”, Rudy shouted out. He turned to Pete and
pointed to the knapsack. “Did you bring it Vato?”

“Si, I got it right here.” He reached into the bag and pulled out a large bottle. In the small plastic bag was
a package of red plastic cups.
The bottle was a gallon of cheap wine and for the next two hours we drank and smoked weed until the
sun began to sink and Rudy reminded us that the truck had no lights and that we had better get back to
town. I was officially a member of the Torrez clan and the brothers promised to have my back if I treated
their sister right. It was the last time I ever saw Rudy but it was a memorable time in what would
become a long-lasting relationship with the family. The rest of the weekend we spent with Jerry and
Lenore, then Priscilla and her family before leaving to go back to Las Vegas Sunday, with Grandma Tina
as our guest and temporary live-in babysitter. I had enjoyed the trip to the small town, but as we left I
remarked to Maggie that I could not imagine living in such a place.

Until next time,

Barron Broomfield