When I did open the door, I met face to face with his penetrating, dark, almond shaped eyes. I could tell something was weighing heavy on his mind, he was in a bad mood, but I knew better than to ask why. I tried to lighten the atmosphere, but he wasn't interested.
He opened the refrigerator to help himself, he was disappointed that nothing was prepared at the moment. I had already eaten and cleaned up there. There were no left overs to be found. I offered to run down to Chuy's on the corner and bring back some tacos. I could tell that he was hungry. He glared at me with those dark eyes and said "No Tango Humor Para Nada". I'm not sure what it meant just that I had better watch my step. I offered one more time and he answered me, "Gringa, do you know the meaning of the word NO?
We sat around for a while and he finally opened up and told me that something had come in the mail that had triggered a lot of emotions and memories. He made it clear he did not want to talk about it. I wanted to brighten his mood so I asked him to take me for a drive, nowhere special but just to be going out. I think he only agreed so I would shut up and leave him alone.
He started to drive to a town about 30 minutes from here called Los Margaritas. He needed to confide in someone. He needed to open up and speak, but he didn't know how. He took me to places from his past. He showed me things that I think he didn't trust with people too much. With a far away look in his eyes, he began to tell me how as a younger man he was involved with the Zapatista. He showed me the land that he had helped to defend. How it had felt to have been a part of that revolution. Where they used to meet. How they used to train.
I had a new respect for this man.
He was willing to fight for a cause.
He had passion for the people.
He had taken a necessary trip down memory lane and had chosen me to ride along.
I felt honored.
After a little while later, we finally arrived at the Center of Las Margaritas. It was a NICE place. A beautiful park, all the trees were trimmed to perfection. It was perfect. We go out of the truck, and he grabbed my hand. We walked, we talked, and drank Peach Juice under the moon and the stars. It was perfect. I had eased his mind after all. He looked more relaxed and more at ease. I had lifted his cloud. Under all of the hardness, under all of the Macho, under all of the control, was a man with a big heart, and a caring soul.
It was time to head back to my house.
It was getting late and he had to work early in the morning.
The ride back was quite, but in a nice kind of way.
We had made a connection.
It was something I will not forget soon.
He dropped me off at my house with a single kiss.
As he was leaving he told me "I'll be back when you least expect it".
I somehow know he is telling the truth.
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