Chaco by Peggy A. Wheeler

Author:Peggy A. Wheeler
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Dragon Moon Press
Published: 2018-03-23T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 21

Chaco found one peaceful spot, a seven-foot-tall rock with a level surface. The rock jutted from the otherwise flat plain less than a hundred yards from camp, far enough. When he’d had enough of everyone’s chatter and drama, he would say, “I’m going to my rock,” and disappear for an hour or more.

Sitting on the rock gave Chaco quiet time to process, to think, to plan. At least once daily, he could be found there staring steeped in his musings. At this moment, his thoughts turned to his friendships. He’d never had many male friends. He’d loved his father, his uncle and his grandfather, but otherwise, he stayed to himself. He never grew too intimate with the boys he played baseball with, or any of his classmates, who sometimes taunted him because Chaco had long before earned a reputation as a loner. Some of the kids thought him snobbish.

Over the course of his life, he allowed himself to become close to maybe four or five other men, including his mentor, Javier, his buddy, Alberto, the one colleague who he trusted to keep him informed of matters in El Salvador after Chaco had fled his country, and now, Russell Walker.

He never much liked Americans with their imperious attitudes, their national consciousness of bigotry and ignorant xenophobic attitudes. He shifted his position on the rock. He’d learned well to use that American ignorance to his advantage…he knew once he entered the country, his brown skin would be a perfect way to hide in the U.S. because not one of these gringos would ever question a Latino with a leaf blower and a set of hedge clippers. But, despite himself, he had developed a profound affection for this particular group of privileged white people. Of course, he loved Fiona with every cell of his body and every ounce of his soul, but some of….

A scraping and rustling came from behind. Chaco put his hand on his rifle and turned his head toward the source of the sound. Margo. She clambered up the rock toward him. He removed his hand from the weapon.

“Sorry to disturb ya,” she said. “I have somethin’ I need to talk over with ya in private.”

He scooted over to make room. “What’s this about?”

“Well, frankly, it’s about Jude. Me and Rocky was talkin’ after we heard what you was sayin’ to Russ and Abby about yer life in El Salvador and all what happened to you there.”

“Yes?”

“The way we see it, you’ve been through an awful lot.”

Chaco shrugged his shoulders. “What does that have to do with Jude?”

“He’s got that PTSD thang, right?”

Chaco shrugged again. “Yes?”

“We don’t git how you could go through so much, and see all that death and not have it, too.”

“Everyone responds to stress and trauma differently, Margo. Besides, what makes you think I don’t have it?”

“That may well be. But our thankin’ is that mebe…”

“I do have problems, many of them. I didn’t come out of El Salvador unscathed.” He told her about the

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