The Difference: Part II

An interesting comparison between two smart kids.

 ~Elizabeth awakens to the sound of a rooster. Who lives in a clabbered together cage outside her window. She rises from her cushion, the dirt floor cool on her feet. A brisk wind brings the sound of the gaviota and smell of the surf. She takes her worn blankets outside the plywood and tar paper shack and hangs them on the corral fence.

A badly undernourished dog smiles and wags his tail, doing his best to look dignified. In back of the house she puts wood in the oven of the once electric range and lights it. She turns the fry pan and the coffee pot right side up on top. Carefully she adjusts the rock under the low corner of the old BBQ grill that serves to support the pot of beans she sets upon it.

 

There is another smaller shack in the back corner of the yard. It is a shower stall, with a toilet that you pour water through to flush, and a piece of garden hose sticking in through the opposite wall, that serves as shower head and flusher.It has more pressure than one would imagine. Naked, she holds the hose crimped until it is aimed directly at the top of her head. There is two seconds of shock as her skin acclimates. Elizabeth practices good hygiene and does so as quickly as possible. She dries with a towel that has never been washed in a machine and dresses carefully. Her school uniform is stiff from the line, and also hand washed. As she dresses she thinks of her science class. Her teacher is new and very challenging, a woman educated in astronomy, who has come from the capital to live here in this old fishing village of less than 5ooo.

Elizabeth loves the cosmos and lives in a good place to be a fan. There is no light pollution here and clear nights open an incredible panorama above. She has a National Geographic with an article on Hubble space telescope including many of the famous images. It is treasured above her crucifix though she may not admit it. Her teacher knows of Elizabeth’ bright mind and tried to shrewdly outfox the system in order to acquire a small telescope using public funding. It was to no avail as she had figured. She had not told the eager student the bad news having decided to look elsewhere for financial assistance, though she had little idea where. Salute the teacher who understands the value of interest and intelligence and takes it on as a service as opposed to an income. Elizabeth hums a tune as she gazes at her reflection in a broken mirror. She is beautiful and in perfect physical and mental health. Her black hair glistens in the rising sun as she pulls a brush through it.

 

Elizabeth’s fragile innocence would be shattered at the very knowledge of what Stephany calls ‘sexting’. She lives in a world that is more human than the one Stephany lives in. Not that it is naïve or prude, Elizabeth knows the fundamentals of sex and has had various conversations about the subject with her schoolmates, up to and including various ways in which they might utilize some muchacho with bright eyes and an uninhibited singing voice. Giggling with hormones, they learn what they need to know about sex, on the grapevine, as it were. In a world where advertising and diabolical programming schemes, haven’t yet turned sex into a casual diversion, that abominates the natural world and brings shame to the intelligent species.

With the creeping disease of corporation, and it's methodical destruction of community, this is changing fast. 'Progress', is destroying the corner store and the guy with a one ton pickup that supplies the same. The smiling fisherman and the energetic children are only beginning to feel the symptoms of the conquest for More. In addition to losing their ability to compete in the free market, the are losing touch with the fragile ecosystem that is their home. This little fishing village is suffering from economic problems and a methamphetamine epidemic as well. Elizabeth' mother, Trinidad, speaks of creepy things that have brought sickness not to her body, but to her life. She is lucky to be able to see through the Billboard signs that promise a 'bright future' for her paisanos.

 

Elizabeth throws a golf ball sized rock onto the tin roof of the house in the next corral. This is to awaken her brothers, though she knows it will not work and she will have to turn the heat up, as usual.

 

She wonders what her father looks like more than where he lives as she cracks eggs into the sizzling pan. She pours water from the garaphone into a sauce pan and puts it to boil.

A home recording, blaring from a battered Pioneer 100w speaker attached, somewhat functionally, to the roof of a thrashed Toyota Corolla announces the coming of the tortilla guy. She meets him each morning as he comes up the sandy street with his wares. He also has some nice tomatoes. She looks at them carefully and gives him about a dollar for a kilo of tortillas and two excellent tomatoes. The tortillas, made of corn, are soft, hot and fresh, steaming in the morning air. Back at the stove Elizabeth ladles some beans into the eggs and crumples a handful of fresh cheese in. She stirs the fire and adds a stick. Then she throws three more rocks at the house next door. 

 

This time through the window, which has no glass. Since Elizabeth has been throwing rocks at dogs since she could walk it’s no surprise at least one found it’s mark. Curses erupt from the shack and the boys are awake. ‘Just like that…’ thinks Elizabeth, smiling as she dons a colorful apron.

She puts eggs and beans in little piles on tortillas and then adds a spoon of diced tomato and sliced chile. Folded and laying on the hot piece of plate metal, they are both presentable and delicious. Even Pop Tarts can’t compare with these culinary delights. Particularly in terms of nutrition. They are good food. And they will be consumed take out style, meaning ‘first come, first served. Elizabeth is boss when their mother is out for any reason. She doesn’t take on any more than she has to, and delegates her authority in a fashion that nurtures structure and ethics in her siblings. It is a big challenge to a girl who is only thirteen, but she uses tried and true terror to gain the type of attention she needs, resourceful young lady that she is. The terror instilled is of the correct quality and quantity, and most days she reigns fairly easy, all things considered. With only the occasional explanation of what it feels like to be disemboweled in your sleep. In uniform and up to regs, the boys fidget and carefully dispose of the nutritious breakfast their sister not only cooked for them, but also acquired the elements for,using excellent communication skills in lieu of money.

Just before leaving she kisses her sleeping mother and lays a couple of chocolate candies beside her handbag.

Vowing to use their eyes for fish bait, she controls her two brother and twin sisters on the way to school. She figures the girls are easy and if she can just keep the boys from ruining their uniforms before July, she will be in the clear.

Elizabeth mingles with the other kids on the grounds before the bell. Just like everywhere.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Author's Note

Please be as mean and critical as you can.
I can take it.

Reviews

[Crowley]

I love the documentary style of writing, especially for the length of the piece. Reminds me of watching Planet Mexico. It so reminds me of my fave place in Mexico which is Isla Holbox also a fishing village with very few people and a modicum of tourism. the writing was very solid as was the subject matter a great way to point out the differences between the cultures. Nice job, better go back and read part I

[Samuel Dickens]

I'm not quite speechless, but sure that whatever I say won't be enough. The gentle, loving way you treat your characters and paint the scenes is simply amazing. I love it.

[Desert Dreamer]

Such a big difference in these two girls, I prefer this world as it seems you do as well since the "I" stood out. Our culture is invading these wonderful mostly intact cultures, as is shown in your story as well. I enjoyed reading and noticing the contrasts between part I and II.
I did see the "I" in the story as an interuption in the flow of the story, I felt the sudden change of perspective and felt as if someone was watching me read the story from that point out, maybe urging me to choose this girl over the previous one. I would suggest changing the "I", unless you want the reader to feel your presence here.
Great stories!

[luciddreamer]

Hmm...Wow...Yes, I agree with the other poster that you can definately feel, through the reading of part 1 and 2, which world you have chosen. What really amazes me reading this story opened my eyes. What I mean is my eyes were always open, but now the blinders are also off. Wonderful, thought-provoking story.

[jenniewren (J.W. Bouwma..]

you know what is funny? what i noticed the most about this second piece is that, as tightly wound as the first narrative was, this one was looser, more conversational calmer.. i think we know which world you have chosen for your own and which gives you the heebs.

i love both of these stories, and the flipside of the coin set up. there were slight grammatical errors here 'n' there, but mostly just niggling punctuation type stuff.

i want a breakfast like she cooks please...

[Ed Hart]

parts I & II should be required reading at both their schools