After Peaches Read Online Free PDF

charms, photographs and even a Bible to bring along on our journey. Almost a year later, when we left Guatemala to come to Canada, everyone on our street threw a party for us. Now we had chosen to stay in Canada forever. We had been here for close to a year, and only one person would be sad to see us leave the neighborhood. Sometimes, I thought, no matter how much you want a place to be home, it simply doesn’t feel like it.
    And that’s when I thought of the plan. The wonderful, impossible plan. I wasn’t going to say a thing about it yet. Not to Julie anyway. We walked to school, talking about the math test instead, and when we saw the other kids, I went quiet as usual, and she told me about her latest notes for her summer adventures. She didn’t sound very excited anymore.
    In class, I made a few notes of my own in the notebook Julie had given me, but I wasn’t writing about what I’d do this summer. I was writing about how to get my parents to agree to my wonderful, impossible plan. With Julie and José leaving, I had nothing to lose. Anywhere would be better than here for the summer.

    As soon as Papá and Mamá got home that afternoon, I asked them what they thought.
    â€œIt’s too risky,” Papá said. “Too much to plan in too little time. Too many things could go wrong.” He was sitting at the kitchen table with his arms crossed. Mamá was leaning back in her chair, looking exhausted. The empty supper plates sat waiting to be washed.
    I took a deep breath and was about to try again when Mamá said, “I agree with your father. We can’t just travel across the province right now, following the harvests like the other Mexicans. They have to do it because they signed a contract, and that’s why they’re here in Canada, but it’s different for us. Our home is here. We can’t just pack it all away and leave it behind.”
    â€œBut why not?” I asked. Would Ricardo have backed me up if he were still alive? He used to do that sometimes, sticking up for me when he knew I wanted something really badly. Even though we didn’t always get along—he was so much older than me and we didn’t have much in common—I missed him now. “It would only be for a couple of months,” I said, “and it’s perfect timing. I won’t be in school in the summer, so I can help in the fields, like I do on Saturdays. And Papá’s been talking about exploring the province ever since we got here. And we have a car, and you two are really good at harvesting, and José said that farmers are desperate for help. Besides, imagine how much money José must be making if he can afford to fly back and forth to Mexico every summer!”
    For some reason, they smiled at that, but they still didn’t look convinced. “José doesn’t pay for those flights, Rosario,” Papá said.“The farmers do.”
    I frowned. That didn’t make any sense.“Why would they do that?”
    â€œBecause the farmers need people to harvest their flowers and fruit,” said Mamá. “And Mexican workers need money to survive. It’s hard to find work in Mexico, and people would rather leave their families behind and put food on the table than let them starve.”
    â€œBut lots of Canadians need jobs too,” I said.“Why don’t the farmers hire them instead of paying for all those flights?”
    â€œBecause most Canadians don’t want to work so hard for so little money,” Papá said, pushing back from the table. “Getting up at five and working bent over for twelve hours a day. Most Canadians would demand higher wages if they had to work like that. But that’s not what we were talking about. We were talking about why we can’t just leave our lives behind and follow the harvests.”
    Mamá began clearing the dishes, and she motioned for me to help, as if the conversation was