Del Rio News Herald

After I reflected for a while I realized that some of the things that we needed to share, laugh, or cry about are the many experiences that we had that probably impacted our lives today. If nothing else, remembering them will stretch our lips into a smile!
“Las travesuras” (mischievous activities) of the young are still prevalent among the young but they do not seem to be as innocent as when we were growing up. I suppose I will start with some of the “travesuras” that I remember as if it were yesterday.
My parents bought the old George Lowe homestead located at 407 Hutchinson Street. It had two bedrooms and yes I shared the room with my two brothers who were younger than I. Chalito was 11-months younger while Cesar is about 10 years younger.
My mom said that Chalito was very sensitive. “Dame la dada!” was what usually set him off like a firecracker on the 4th of July! His behavior was out of character because he usually was shy and soft- spoken, which I must admit, was quite the opposite of me!!
One day, something happened that to the present, I remember every detail even to the short cutoff pants Chalito was wearing.
We were all sitting on the banister of our front porch. Daddy had brought all of us a treat. Chalito loved, Gloria, but he loved “Glorias” too! “Glorias” are a traditional Mexican candy made from milk, sugar & cinnamon. They are referred to as “dulce de leche quemada” (burnt milk).
Daddy had brought us each a “Gloria” de leche quemada.
Chalito was so happy and true to his character, he took the “Gloria” looked at it, squeeze it, rolled it between his hands, took a whiff of it and he carefully unwrapped the candy. Eating it first with his eyes before putting it in his mouth. I know his mouth was savoring it with every morsel of juicy wealth that his imagination could muster.
By this whole time, I had eaten mine, licked my fingers for any left over morsel of “leche quemada” and was lustfully looking at him contemplating his treasure.
Just as he had finished unwrapping the “Gloria,” he opened his mouth and slowly aimed at it. Before the candy reached his face, I ask him for a bite. “I want to see if yours tastes as good as mine.” I said sheepishly.
His giving heart could not resist my request. He stretches his hand over to my mouth and I took a ‘small’ bite!
He looked at me. Waited until I swallowed the bite that he had given me. He began jumping up and down like a grasshopper while screaming “Dame la dada! Dame la dada!” Then he would take in lots of air and again began jumping up and down screaming “Dama la dada!”(Give me back what I gave you!)
I reached into my mouth and removed the “half dead Gloria,” caramel, saliva and more. I reached over to give it to him. He shouted that he did not want the candy; he wanted “la dada.” After some analysis we all figured that he wanted me to return the act of taking something that belonged only to him! La dada was the act of giving. I suppose!

He was jumping up and down so hard that he got too close to the porch steps and fell off with a bang and his treasure, the “Gloria” dropped and Rex, our German Shepherd swallowed it whole without skipping a beat.
He was so funny that we all were laughing at him. The more we laughed, the worst it got!
After he did not get his “Dada” he went to an anthill that had red ants and he sat in the middle of the thriving red anthill.
As adults we would talk about it. I asked him why he sat on the anthill.
He answered, “I knew it would hurt you so I wanted to punish you for asking me to share my candy after you had eaten all of yours.”
What is amazing is that he grew up to be a very kind and loving man. He never passed a homeless person without stopping and giving the person assistance. He was very charitable. God rest his soul.
Did I abuse my brother? I don’t think so, but then he was younger and I suppose more vulnerable to my mischievous ways. Daddy spanked me once. That once, I have never forgotten!!
I had just turned seven. I was in the second grade. Sister Stanislaus gave us a lesson on aviation and several issues regarding wingspan and the role of air. She taught us how to make a paper airplane. We painted the wings and she showed us how to make it fly.
Chalito was in first grade. At Sacred Heart Academy there were two grades to each classroom. The first graders picked up on everything that the second grader was being taught.
We got home that day with our airplanes. Mine seemed to fly with more “wisdom” than my brothers. I wondered how much faster it would fly if I put a big straight pin at the end. That is what I did!
I wrapped the pin to the point of the paper plane and told Chalito to stand by the wall in the dining room and I went to the other end of the living room and sent the airplane flying straight to his face.
He closed his eyes and the pin landed smack under his right eye. It went deep enough that when Chalito started hopping around screaming the airplane sustained the turbulence until Daddy came and pulled it out.
“Patas pa que son!!!” (What are legs for!!! I ran out the door. I knew this one was going to be a physical experience for me, so I was not taking any chances. I had just cleared the front steps when daddy came after me. I could see smoke coming from his ears…boy, I knew that I was going to get killed and thrown in the San Felipe Creek that ran alongside our backyard. I ran and Daddy followed. We ran twice around the house. I was puffing and thinking and puffing and thinking.
I finally decided that the best way to live out this ordeal was to let Daddy catch me and then play dead when he reached me! Yes, I would faint right in front of his eyes and he would not spank me.
I got as far as the faucet that was on the east side of the house. I stood there and I looked at Daddy’s fuming face and as he reached for my arm I released my entire body in a faint like drama. He grabbed my arm; lifted me into the air and with his free hand opened the water faucet and sprayed me with water and I got the spanking of my life.
The funny part is that by the time we ran, puffed, and thought, I had forgotten why I was running away from my dad! Why did I get spanked for learning that paper airplanes can fly if a weight is put on the nose of the plane?
Chalito was my best friend when we were children, what happened when we grew up? I know today, I want to tell him how sorry I am to have taken his “Dada.” I miss his sad eyes and his warm heart. Thank you so much for sharing your time with me today.

For comments please
e-mail me at:
dszertuche(at)hotmail.com

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