Urrea, Luis Alberto - The House of Broken Angels by Urrea Luis Alberto

Author:Urrea, Luis Alberto
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Little, Brown and Company
Published: 2018-03-06T00:00:00+00:00

Little Angel was born in 1967.

Big Angel lived with his mother and siblings in Colonia Obrera in Tijuana until he snuck across the border to join his father after one of the old man’s infrequent visits to their house. It seemed easy to him. People either crept through the shallow brown Tijuana River down near the coast or joined the crowds running out of Colonia Libertad in Otay to the east. There were regular corridors in those days, and day workers often commuted through the dirt canyons. Big Angel refused to see any other girls. He sent postcards to Perla, which she never answered.

Yndio was born in 1970. By then, Big Angel was camping out at his father’s house and working as a donut cooker on night shift with payments made strictly under the table. One of his first American phrases: “under the table.” It seemed so elegant.

Braulio was born in 1971. Big Angel didn’t know any of this, but he wrote Perla a letter that same year, begging her to come north. Though the letter was later lost, they both remembered the line “Come to me while we still have life and we can wrestle with destiny.” It was the noblest thing Perla had ever heard. And she came, throwing everything away to join him.

Braulio grew up fast. He had them all fooled. Minnie was just a dumb kid—she worshipped all three of her brothers. But El Yndio knew, and Lalo knew what the deal was. And as she got older, Minnie made believe she didn’t know. Mamá Perla—well, Braulio was her angel. Pops took his standard noble route. Sometimes the boys laughed at him when he wasn’t around—so snooty, nose in the air. Making a big show of claiming Yndio and Braulio as his sons. The wisest man in the world, by his own estimation, remained blind to these two. Pinche Braulio—his nickname, Snickers, should have said it all.

Yndio could not stand Big Angel. He was the one who remembered his birth father. Braulio had been too young. Their father had dived for pearls. He shucked oysters with a fat, curved blade and slurped them down with lime juice and red hot sauce. He laughed loud, and when he laughed, his gold tooth shone. And one day, he dove into the waters east of La Paz and never surfaced. Yndio remembered that.

This Angel appeared one day as if he’d always been there. Yndio was so shocked that his mother had some romantic secret. Some filthy little past life. He wrestled with rage—thinking Whore some days when he looked at her.

Not Braulio. He was a prankster. And when he hooked up with Gloriosa’s boy, Guillermo, it was some kind of perfection. They were the same age, the same size. They could have been twins. And the girlies called Guillermo “Joker.” There was a clear theme. Snickers and Joker, down por vida homies. 4LIFE. When poor Lalo came along, he never could penetrate their society of two.

Things weren’t always middle class for the family.

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