admire loyalty in a person. In the end, our integrity is the only thing of value that no one can take from us. It's the reason we support Lucia's cause."
"Which seems really complicated."
"Actually, it's not," Jack says. "It's simple, really. A banker uses deceit to rob you and he gets rewarded with a bailout from the government and a bonus from his shareholders. You or me? We go to jail. Since the law isn't on our side, we have to take matters into our own hands. It's up to us to balance the wealth."
"It's not that simple."
"Of course it isn't," Jack says. "But we have to start somewhere. Lucia says that the first thing we have to do is get their attention. So we've left messages behind in all the places we hit. We also sent letters of explanation to the papers and television and radio stations."
"The Occupy Wall Street people aren't robbing houses to get attention."
"No," Jack says. "But they're treated as a joke, just as we are when they call us Los Murrietas. Nobody takes our messages seriously. They make us sound like just another gang, robbing honest, hard-working citizens instead of the bankers and CEOs."
"Why wouldn't the media report that? Wouldn't it make a good story?"
"I don't know, but the banks hold a lot of sway and even reporters don't want to get on the bad side of them. Everyone needs their banker to be on their side. So the truth is being suppressed.
"Somehow, we have to make the public really sit up and take notice of why we're doing what we do."
Maria's torn. She's spent her whole life trying not to be noticed. And what has it gotten her? A job as a maid. Maria doesn't necessarily agree with the gang's methods, but at least they're doing something that has real meaning.
"We have to get Luz out," she says.
Jack nods. "But we can't do it legally."
"And we don't have an army."
Maria doesn't say anything more.
Jack prompts her. "Which leaves only…"
The impossible, Maria wants to say. But then she thinks of a black pebble on a bedspread.
And she thinks of a tin cigarette box.
" Brujería ," she says.
"Broo-what?"
"Magic."
Maria leads the way through the barrio streets to where the last buildings meet the desert, Jack at her side. The rest of his gang has joined them, and are trailing slightly behind. Without going into detail, Maria explains that she and Luz have a pact to fulfill and she needs to retrieve a talisman to do it. She'd like to share the whole story, but Luz said that it would only work if they told no one.
Any other part of town and the desert scrub beyond these adobe buildings would have become a swath of gated communities and shopping plazas. But here, right on the edge of 66 Bandas territory, nobody's stupid enough to try to build. Past the city limits, a few ranches and adobe houses make a patchwork buffer zone between the barrio and the national park in the foothills of the Hierro Madera Mountains.
Maria is not happy. The only good thing about tonight is having Jack beside her holding her hand. She wishes they could just keep walking and leave everything behind. That her companions weren't robbers. That Luz wasn't in jail. That it wasn't her responsibility to try to make things right.
But the past is like the desert lying hidden under the green lawns and streets of the gated communities like Silver Canyon and Desert View. You can disguise it with a cover of manicured grass and pavement, but the desert doesn't go away. It's still there underneath, waiting to be free again.
When they reach a dry wash, she turns south along its sandy bed and they all follow suit. That her companions took her story at face value doesn't surprise her. After all, how odd can magic be to spirits?
But while they can just accept the notion of seeking a talisman, what fills them with wonder is the appearance of the bottle man's tree: all its glass vessels dangling from the widespread branches of the old mesquite, each glowing in the moonlight so that it seems to hold rather than reflect
"Which seems really complicated."
"Actually, it's not," Jack says. "It's simple, really. A banker uses deceit to rob you and he gets rewarded with a bailout from the government and a bonus from his shareholders. You or me? We go to jail. Since the law isn't on our side, we have to take matters into our own hands. It's up to us to balance the wealth."
"It's not that simple."
"Of course it isn't," Jack says. "But we have to start somewhere. Lucia says that the first thing we have to do is get their attention. So we've left messages behind in all the places we hit. We also sent letters of explanation to the papers and television and radio stations."
"The Occupy Wall Street people aren't robbing houses to get attention."
"No," Jack says. "But they're treated as a joke, just as we are when they call us Los Murrietas. Nobody takes our messages seriously. They make us sound like just another gang, robbing honest, hard-working citizens instead of the bankers and CEOs."
"Why wouldn't the media report that? Wouldn't it make a good story?"
"I don't know, but the banks hold a lot of sway and even reporters don't want to get on the bad side of them. Everyone needs their banker to be on their side. So the truth is being suppressed.
"Somehow, we have to make the public really sit up and take notice of why we're doing what we do."
Maria's torn. She's spent her whole life trying not to be noticed. And what has it gotten her? A job as a maid. Maria doesn't necessarily agree with the gang's methods, but at least they're doing something that has real meaning.
"We have to get Luz out," she says.
Jack nods. "But we can't do it legally."
"And we don't have an army."
Maria doesn't say anything more.
Jack prompts her. "Which leaves only…"
The impossible, Maria wants to say. But then she thinks of a black pebble on a bedspread.
And she thinks of a tin cigarette box.
" Brujería ," she says.
"Broo-what?"
"Magic."
Maria leads the way through the barrio streets to where the last buildings meet the desert, Jack at her side. The rest of his gang has joined them, and are trailing slightly behind. Without going into detail, Maria explains that she and Luz have a pact to fulfill and she needs to retrieve a talisman to do it. She'd like to share the whole story, but Luz said that it would only work if they told no one.
Any other part of town and the desert scrub beyond these adobe buildings would have become a swath of gated communities and shopping plazas. But here, right on the edge of 66 Bandas territory, nobody's stupid enough to try to build. Past the city limits, a few ranches and adobe houses make a patchwork buffer zone between the barrio and the national park in the foothills of the Hierro Madera Mountains.
Maria is not happy. The only good thing about tonight is having Jack beside her holding her hand. She wishes they could just keep walking and leave everything behind. That her companions weren't robbers. That Luz wasn't in jail. That it wasn't her responsibility to try to make things right.
But the past is like the desert lying hidden under the green lawns and streets of the gated communities like Silver Canyon and Desert View. You can disguise it with a cover of manicured grass and pavement, but the desert doesn't go away. It's still there underneath, waiting to be free again.
When they reach a dry wash, she turns south along its sandy bed and they all follow suit. That her companions took her story at face value doesn't surprise her. After all, how odd can magic be to spirits?
But while they can just accept the notion of seeking a talisman, what fills them with wonder is the appearance of the bottle man's tree: all its glass vessels dangling from the widespread branches of the old mesquite, each glowing in the moonlight so that it seems to hold rather than reflect
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