A Warm Day in April

By Antonio A. Arana

David Garza will do anything to leave his small town of Clarence and escape a bleak, dull futureand so he decides to join the Marines. Even so, he has his reservations. Certainly, its an admirable profession, but David wonders if he has the guts. He doesnt know if he wants to go to war, but he doesnt want to end up flipping burgers either.

Despite his best intentions, however, he washes out of boot camp without even going. He is forced to stay home, and in doing so, he is forced to face his demons. A childhood rife with bullying, abuse, and blood comes back to haunt him. His parents are desperate to keep David from taking his own life, so they send him to a therapist.

Barbara Luke is understanding and kindjust the person to help David move beyond his past and seek a successful future. But it will take a lot of time for David to heal, and it will not be an easy journey. He must battle his demons and in doing so discover peace, purpose, and the woman of his dreams.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Abbott Press
• Release date: Feb 25, 2014
• ISBN: 9781458213150

Antonio A. Arana

Antonio A. Arana has loved the written word all his life. This is his first published work. He currently lives in California.

Book preview

Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

FOR MY MOTHER, FATHER, AND GRANDMOTHER PAULA

NO MORE EFFORT IS REQUIRED TO AIM HIGH IN LIFE, TO DEMAND ABUNDANCE AND PROSPERITY, THAN IS REQUIRED TO ACCEPT MISERY AND POVERTY.

-FROM THINK AND GROW RICH,

BY NAPOLEON HILL

Chapter 1

I was already awake when the alarm rang. 4:30am and it was time to put another red X on the bulldog calendar by the door. The light didn’t have to be on for me to know that there were less and less empty spaces. The sound of a razor tapping against the porcelain sink meant that my dad wasn’t ready yet so I walked to the kitchen and got some coffee. I remember looking out the window and seeing the flickering street lights of a town coming to life. That was usually when my mind would start to crumble. What am I doing? Is this really going to make me happy? Four years is a long time.

Being picked up at 5am was the official start of my day. My mom’s brother was usually driving with the gas light on so making it to the broccoli fields was always an unwelcomed reward, in my opinion at least. Late October usually meant freezing cold winds and huddling around burning wax coated boxes. The reason I want to start my story here is because I remember this day so well. Especially what happened around 6am. Being the foreman’s nephew brought a big dose of nepotism to the harvest crew. The fact that I was never on the ground picking and getting dirty or back on the trailer packing 40 pound boxes of product never sat well with the 11 other people. My sole responsibility was to keep the tractor moving in a straight line. Yea that was it.

I was thinking about coming home for Christmas when I started hearing my name called followed by obligatory cursing in Spanish. Seeing my breath in the cold morning air brought me all the way back. The front wheels of the John Deer were crushing about 7-8 boxes worth of broccoli across a few green lanes. I frantically straitened the wheel, only to run over a water pipe which by some miracle didn’t burst. Get off! he jumped and grabbed the wheel. Alonso was the total opposite of my calm, cool and collected mother so I braced for a punch. Get off! he said again, a bit nicer. I got off and stepped a few inches deep into the now mud/broccoli mash up. All the workers had smiles on their faces as they walked into a new row. It felt like they were planning a party after my seemingly inevitable departure. Come on, Alonso yelled. Be careful, he said climbing back down to work. I can still see the look on the workers faces when he left me at the wheel again.

I was home for about 10 minutes when I started hearing the Marine Corps Hymn. I thought I was going crazy at first but calmed down when I realized that it was coming from my phone. What’s up homie? You ready for some PT? Barnett asked. 8 hours of sitting on my ass left me a bit lethargic so the thought of pushups, crunches and running wasn’t really pleasant. Yea. Traffic could be heard in the background, Alright. I’ll be there in 20. Peace. I changed and sat by the window and waited, it seemed like that was my life. The reflection of my red and orange shirt made me think of the day I got it. It seemed like being in an endless line waiting for test after test. The day ended with the t-shirt and an oath. You’re leaving? Carmen asked. My sister usually had lots of after school activities so seeing her at that time was rare. I thought about how much I was going to miss her. What if I die? Yea, the SSgt is on the way. She seemed to sigh and went to her room.

BEEP, BEEP, BEEEEEEP. It was Barnett’s honk but he wasn’t at the wheel. I could smell her perfume just by looking at her from the door. I’m leaving, I yelled into the hallway. Kristen smiled at me from the driveway just as my mom got home. My hands made some sort of signal that I was going to my mom since my mouth was frozen with the thought of sitting next to the pretty blonde for 15 minutes. Hi, I leaned on the open passenger side window. 105.8 was blasting away with the latest Mexican music. She turned it down and asked, You’re leaving for exercise? I nodded and she mimicked my sister. Be careful with your heart ok. I wondered how Dr. Michaels was doing. I’ll be home around 7 or 8 I think, I said looking back at one of Barnett’s girlfriends. It was difficult to not stare at Kristen. She was around 26 at the time but acted a bit like she was still in high school. You’re so quiet, she looked over smiling. A quick glance at her cleavage, then it was back to staring at the rear end of a trailer carrying box after box of product.

What does that mean? Kristen pointed at the restaurant next to our destination. It’s a state in Mexico. It’s like saying ‘California’s best’. Do you like Mexican food? I asked. I had known her as long as I knew Barnett and this was our longest conversation. Yea, I love Taco Bell. The location of the recruiting center gave you a real snapshot of the community. There was the Mexican restaurant next door, the Korean grocery store a few doors down, a thrift store, the Mexican grocery store, the other Mexican grocery store around the corner, the cell phone store owned by an Iranian couple, the only thing that seemed out of place was the Starbucks.

The office was a video store in the 80’s that had been converted into 4 rooms that served as the recruiting station since 1993. Barnett always complained about being stuck all the way in the back and would often send myself and a few others to recruit for him. It was always a wasted effort though since most of the foot traffic was without proper documentation. Barnett and two of the other guys were enjoying some of the restaurant’s top selling items when we walked in. Baby! she ran over to him for a kiss. James Barnett joined the Marines a week after high school. Growing up in Boyle Heights awarded him the nickname of Guero, or white guy, by his schoolmates. I guess his background and nearly flawless Spanish made him the perfect fit for a town like Clarence. I was greeted after he seemingly took a piece of her lips off. What’s up homie! I could see some cilantro on his yellowing teeth. The smell of tacos and burritos made the Marine poster laden room less intimidating.

Jose and Miguel were stars on the soccer team at Calderon High. I used to see them from time to time in the library but never spoke to them. Look at you over there, it looks like your about to rub your nipples! Barnett laughed. The aforementioned day of tests found me weighing a slim 170.6 pounds. I gained about 17 pounds during my time in the Delayed Entry Program. Here eat half, he took out a #1 with everything from the top drawer of his desk. Garza, you’re going to lead formation today, he went back to his burrito. The formation runs were never pleasant for me. They usually resulted in me fighting for air within a few minutes and seeing everyone move farther into the horizon. Yea, we almost got caught, Miguel laughed describing one of many sexual escapades during his high school career. Jose followed up then Barnett took a turn describing an encounter with his math tutor.

Your kind of quiet over there, Barnett chuckled. What was I going to tell them? That I was 18 and had never even kissed a girl? Leave him alone, the hot blonde told him, almost as if he was picking on her little brother. She kissed him changing the subject. Our meal ended after 15 more minutes of them talking. Garza will be leading us today, he paused and looked at me, and he will not quit! I started trembling, the fact that this wasn’t even a taste of boot camp just made it worse. Plaza Margarita’s parking lot served as the staging area for our formation runs which for the most part happened at least twice a month. It was a little close to 3 miles from the parking lot to the park and it was going to be my responsibility to set the pace. On your call Garza, Barnett flanked Jose, Miguel was behind them, and Kristen was at the rear.

This run was no different from the others. My pounding heart again began to give away within the first ten minutes. Only this time Barnett didn’t let me slack off and leave me behind. Maybe it was because I was shipping out in 2 weeks. What the fuck! the other Mexicans yelled. Hurry fat-ass! one of them yelled. I was too scared at this point to look back and figure out who it was. Garza! You have got to be kidding me! Show some fucken effort! Barnett yelled. I looked around and saw many of the same tired brown faces of Clarence look at me as they sped by. What the hell happened to all the shit you said about wanting better?! The concrete may as well have been the La Brea Tar Pits from our elementary school trips. I knew you were a little bitch, a voice from behind me said in my ear. Fuck this, they both ran ahead. Catch up to them. Come on. You need me to hold your hand?! Come on PRIVATE PYLE!

That had been a running joke since passing my ASVAB with a 32, one or two above the minimum to be a Marine. That name really epitomized what the mirror showed me during that part of my life. I had always been the slow fat kid. The Marines would make me better…they had to. Maybe he was doing it on purpose or maybe he was just angry or maybe both. It didn’t really matter what the reason was, what mattered was that it worked. I started to picture the bricks of pain and misery that built the cavernous dwelling called my life. Being bullied, solitude. I was probably running as fast as others walk but in my head I was just as fast as the Roadrunner. I saw Jerry, the bully from high school. I saw his face crashing into my green and blue earth science book turning it red. I saw myself become like all the others. Drinking beer and yelling Go Raiders! at the TV while grilling flank steak in the backyard.

Then I saw myself in the dress blues jacket and white covers that Barnett let me try on during our third meeting. I want my own…I want my own…I want my own! All the visions fueled me and made the physical pain irrelevant. Hell yea! Get it Garza! Get it! Barnett ran next to me yelling. I crossed Sterling Street, and then had to wait on a red light at Western. Two girls looked at me, laughed and kept on driving playing the greatest hits of a Mr. Tupac Shakur. My normal 3 mile time was cut by around 6 minutes. Even the two other guys greeted me when we met on the hill by the playground. What the hell got into you homie? Barnett patted me on the right shoulder. I don’t know, I said still pumped. He made all of us, including his girlfriend, do a wide array of calisthenics for about an hour. My heart managed to not explode and I was able to finish with a better effort.

It was nearing 7 and I was still at the office. Being the only one who was in need of a ride meant that I would have to wait a while for the SSgt and Kristen to have their post workout fun. Maybe the little shorts that she was wearing gave him the extra push’’ to continue, no pun intended. Hey. I’ll see you, her smile was her best feature. It was warm and kind, yet a little devious. You ready? Barnett opened the door. The dumb look on his face made me wonder what it was like to be with a woman. I almost forgot to give you some stickers and magnets. Hand them out alright. Rice, car exhaust and the stench of a few bums asking for money next door mixed in the evening air and greeted us on our way to Barnett’s Ford. Put that CD in, he pointed to the opened and cluttered glove box while he lit a cigarette by his open door. Oh hell yea! we pulled out and headed home. The truck had a few thousand dollars of stereo equipment in it and it was worth every penny. You know you like this!" one of Michael Jackson’s greatest hits seemed to even shake the people in the car next to us.

You fucked up today Garza, I looked over scared. You showed me that you can do it. There’s not gonna be anymore slacking off from now on. I kept staring out the window. You gotta stop being so fucken quiet. The DI’s always pick on the quiet ones. Great, something else to worry about. You are a unique little guy Garza. A lot of the other guys at Pendleton are going to have it easier than you. They are going to be quicker and smarter than you. You’re going to have to work harder than any of them, he turned the music off, but you’re going to feel better than any of them because you will have really earned your Eagle, Globe, and Anchor. I gotta tell you, I cried at graduation. I knew I was better than any of the other assholes from the neighborhood.

His normally youthful expression morphed into the serious face he displayed on the parade grounds 6 years prior. Maybe my parents would change their minds when they saw me in my Blues. I think that you will do a lot of great things in the Corps and after you get out. When people think of Clarence they are going to think of David Garza, and not of that dumbass Julio, we shared a laugh. Clarence had made the national blooper reels back in the early 90’s after Julio Andrade was caught robbing a gas station. He walked into the gas station, bought some candy and walked out. He went back in a few hours later and stole the money from the charity jar that was by the register. Maybe the adrenaline rush of such a big score made him forget to pump gas, so he walked in again and paid for gas. It had been over a decade since he got out and he was still the joke of the town.

Did I ever tell you about my brother? I shook my head. He would have been your age last month. The previous conversation stepped aside and gave way to the evils of remorse. He was a little shit when we were growing up. We always knew that he was going to end up dead or in jail. It’s cliché but that was as common in Clarence as it was in Boyle Heights. I told him to go fuck himself the day I left for camp, his gaze was stronger than ever now. I was tired of seeing my mom suffer over that bastard so I kind of wiped my hands clean. I pictured him at 18, about 20 pounds skinnier, saying goodbye to his mother as they sat watching the murky waters of the lake in Echo Park. I saw his brother walk the paint scarred streets of Boyle Heights with the Los Angeles skyline looming behind him. I wrote my mom and told her to bring him to graduation with the hopes that he would want to join up and get out of there. He never showed up though…he got shot about a month after I got to basic.

I started realizing that his humor was undoubtedly an escape mechanism from such pain. Barnett had previously spoken of his time in war, but those memories didn’t seem to affect him as much as speaking of his brother. I remained quiet not knowing what to say. I was angry I guess. Angry because he never rose above being a piece of shit. In some ways I felt he deserved it. He wouldn’t be hurting my mom anymore… I cried for about a week because I never got to help him though. The glowing lights of my neighborhood grew closer. I’m very proud of you for doing what you’re doing Garza. We parted ways as the clock moved towards 8pm. Good job today bro. I briefly thought that his speech was another sales technique, but quickly abolished it. I walked into the nearly quiet house and was met by my waiting mother who was watching a novella, or soap opera to the uninformed. I enjoyed a few deep breaths of the fresh air that living room gave me. A stark contrast of the journey home.

How did it go? How’s your chest feeling, my dad’s tired dreams loudly rumbled from his pillow to the four corners of the house. I’m feeling alright. It doesn’t hurt that much today. I had been treated by a cardiologist for some severe chest pains ever since I was 14. It was always odd being one of the only patients who hadn’t been around for WWII. I did pretty good today. The seesaw of encouragement and disappointment seemed to stop with the first reigning above the other. That’s good son, her eyes shined under the dimmed lights. There’s some food on the stove if you’re hungry. She was aware of my need to drop weight and still made some delicious, but unhealthy food. Hmm. The excitement of the day ate away from my usual 4 hours of sleep. My brief time spent in dreamland was for once a pleasant experience. There were no flames burning in the desert, no funerals to go to.

The new day brought one less space on the calendar and a text from Candace. Hi buddy, I’m back! it had been about two weeks since I heard from my best friend. Maybe only friend. I couldn’t wait to tell her about my performance. Let’s hang out tomorrow! she wrote as I began to reply. Tomorrow would turn into four days later. Saturday mornings were about the only day of the week when the four of us were awake and in the house for most of the day. My dad had given up his Saturdays since driving the bus 6 days a week was wreaking havoc on his already injured back. His Saturday mornings were spent with my