Paradise

In the middle of New Mexico, in the middle of nowhere, you can find the burnt remains of a barn, and a house. That’s where I lived. It used to be beautiful- lilies and orchids growing around the small off-white house. I lived with my mother- our own secluded, perfect world, no one for more than 100 miles on either side. I never would have guessed that one day my life would come crashing down and change me forever.

I remember when I was 12, my cousin Leon came to visit. He lives 125 miles south of us. We hardly ever have visitors, so it was a treat. He brought a gift for me- a lamb from his family’s pasture. I was so happy, because even though we already had seven sheep, this one was special. She had a black face and legs, while all our other sheep were white. I named her Consentida, which means “spoiled” in Spanish, because that’s what she was. I gave her fruits and vegetables everyday for a treat, and she followed me around outside and in the barn. She was my best friend because I had no human friends. I loved all our animals. We had the sheep, two goats, a small covey of chickens, four dogs, a cow and a horse. I spent a lot of time with them and gave them all names. It was so placid just to sit in the barn with the animals and think. But, it wasn’t all fun and games. We relied on our animals to live. Our chickens gave us eggs to eat, and our goats and cows gave us milk, cheese, butter, and cream. Our dogs (three sheepdog, Bammy, Laddie, and Ginger, and a mutt named Scruffy) protected us and the sheep from coyotes and other creatures. We made most of our clothes from our sheep’s wool. Our horse, Häst, a handsome dun and white pinto stallion, was used for my mother’s once a year trips into town to get our supplies of flour, sugar, and salt by selling wool, milk, and eggs. I had never been to town, but it sounded wonderful. Mother would bring me back fruits and penny candy, and buttons and patches of colorful fabric that I could sew on my clothes. The days when mother came back were like a second Christmas.

One night, October 17th 1950,when I was 16, there was a storm. I hated storms, but I knew I was safe in my house. Or at least I thought so. As I lay in my bed, I realized something was wrong. The thunder was too loud, it was a constant roar in my ear, and the lightning was flashing so brightly it was as if it was day. I called for my mother and she hurried in, and we watched the storm from my window. Less than a minute later, a bolt of lightning struck the roof of our barn, I watched in horror as the hay loft caught on fire in seconds, and smoke started pouring out of it. I could hear the clamor of the frightened animals inside the barn. My mother and I ran out of the house, the dogs right on our heels, and rushed out to the barn. We flung the doors open, and the sheep, chickens, and goats came running out. The dogs immediately began to round up the sheep and goats, trying to keep them near the house. I ran into the barn and untied Häst, and he galloped out of the barn. I untied Daisy and pulled her out of the barn by her halter. For a few moments I thought that the worst was over, but I was wrong. Smoldering pieces of the barn were drifting through the air and one hit the house. It caught quickly and began burning up. I screamed and began to cry. This couldn't be happening, not to me, not when life was so perfect. I couldn't stand it. I began to hyperventilate, choking on my own breath. My mother and stood in shock, just staring at our once-beautiful house.

I week later, I assessed what was going on. The dogs had managed to keep our remaining sheep around, and I was able to catch one of our chickens. Daisy seemed fine and Häst showed up after three days. Through the rubble of the house I had recovered a cast iron fry-pan and a small pot, so we ate small eggs with wild tea leaves But as I sat by my mother's side in the grass, I was scared. She was coughing, and very weak. Five of the sheep and both goats had died after exhibiting similar symptoms. I was so worried, and no idea what to do but sit by her side and hold her hand. As I laid my head down on the grass that night, and whispered, "I love you," to my mother, Consentida came over and curled up near my feet. I knew I was safe- the dogs were always on guard- but I felt so utterly paltry and helpless.

I woke up the next morning and stretched my arms. I got up slowly, and then I realized that something was wrong. I turned to my mother. I tapped her hand, and it felt cold. I recoiled and then touched her hand again. No response. Frantically, I brought my hand to her throat to find a pulse. Nothing. Now I was completely alone.

The next few days were a blur, my memories of that time are very vague, probably because I don't want to remember.I remember crying, digging mother's grave with a singed shovel, crying, burying mother, crying, sleeping, crying, eating and placing rocks in the shape of a cross on mothers grave. I haed taken her gold locket off her neck and placed it around mine, so I would never forget her.



I don't know how long after mother's death I left. One week? Two? I just decided I had to leave. I would find my cousin Leon. When he was here two years ago, he said he lived to the south of us, and his family's home bordered a small town called Chloride. Maybe I could live with them. But what of the animals?I loved them all so much, and I couldn't bear to lose anyone else, even Pollita, the chicken. I knew Leon's family had a bevy of animals, what would a few extra be to them?

I decided I was to set out in the morning, and bring all the animals with me.

A saddle had survived the fire, as well as some pitchforks, saddle bags, some rope, and milk buckets. I put the saddle on Häst, and made crude reins by tying some rope to either side of Häst's halter. Then, I attached a rope to the rigging ring of Häst's saddle, and attached the other end to Daisy's halter. I hung two milk buckets on either side of Daisy's broad back, almost like saddle bags for a cow. In one bucket, I put a fry-pan, and in the other, some grass, and Pollita. Lucky she is a small chicken. As for the sheep, Consentida would follow me, I knew that, and the dogs could keep the other two sheep under control. It took me till mid-afternoon to get everything ready, and I had only taken a hiatus to get a small drink of water from a spring. I climbed onto Häst's back, and took a deep breath. Then, I lightly tapped Häst with my heels, and my journey began..

***

"Come on, finish the story!" said Lynn. I was so lucky to have such amazing cousins- Leon, Lynn, and Lucy-and my mother's wonderful sister, Andrea, and her husband, Bill. They are all so altruistic and I love them so much. They had taken me in even though my clothes were tattered and I was a wreck. Lynn and Lucy were both 8, and they loved to hear the story of how I came to live with them, even though I had told it many times already.

"Where was I again?" I asked.

"You just began to go with Häst!" replied Lucy.

"Oh yeah, alright then. I traveled for many days and night, in the sweltering daytime and the coolness of the dark nights. I had no idea what day it was, or where I was. I lived off of chickens eggs, milk, and wild berries. Then, around noon one day, I found a road. It was a very hidden road, made up of dirt, with logs and vines across it. But it was my best bet, so I followed it all night and into the next day,and I was about to give up when I saw a small wooden sign with an arrow and written on it was CHLORIDE. I urged Häst into a trot, wishing I could go faster but the sheep were too slow. The dogs seemed to sense my excitement and left the sheep (who luckily followed me) to run alongside Häst, barking happily. About ten minutes later, I saw a building. I capriciously leapt off Häst and ran in, where I awoke a small old man, who was very startled at my appearance. I assumed he was the sheriff because he had a small gun tucked in his belt.

'Do you know where I can find the Carbajal's?' I said quickly.

'Take the road a little ways down, then take a left, a left, and a right,' he said.

I ran out and hopped on Häst. I went as fast as I could without losing the sheep. Pollita looked a little upset being jostled around in her bucket, so I slowed down a bit. Left, left, right. I glanced around, trying to see anyone I recognised. Then, I saw Leon. He was in a pasture on the side of a barn shearing a sheep.

'Leon!' I yelled and he ran out of the yard.

'Mel?' he asked. And- "

"And then you told him what had happened and you met us and you lived happily ever after!" exclaimed Lynn.

"Of course!" I said happily, "Hey Luce, wanna go for a ride on Häst?"

"Yeah, let's go!" she exclaimed happily. They hadn't had a horse before, so getting Häst was a treat, and Lucy had taken a real liking to him. Luckily they allowed all of the animals to stay, because they are an agrarian family. Our sheep joined their hundred, and Daisy became their third cow. Pollita just hangs around the place with about ten other free range chickens, and the dogs joined numerous other farm dogs.

We went out to the pasture with Häst's reins, and hopped on him bareback. I urged him into a canter. Bammy, Laddie, Scruffy, and Ginger spotted us and ran at Häst's heels, as we rode into the huge pasture. I slowed Häst to a walk, and heard a bleat from behind me. It was Consentida. I smiled, because I was so happy here. Who knew that after all life's twist and turns, it could be straightened out again? But I hadn't forgotten the past. I still wear my mother's small heart-shaped locket, and I think about her now and again, about how much she would love it here. To some, this is a ramshackle little home and a barn full of animals in New Mexico, but to me, it is paradise.