Garden of The Humbled Gods

By Rocky Magaña

This story is not unique. It's honestly all too common.

 

It's 2019 in Tampa, Florida. It's summertime, and it's hot.

Jose was born in Xicoténcatl and came to this country looking for milk and honey. He loves his family more than Trump loves putting kids in cages, but they live in constant fear that the boogeymen will show up and take it all away.

 

Conner and Braxton were radicalized through social media, and now they spend all day reading alt-right propaganda. Mark's clueless to it all. He's too busy being detested by his wife, Ellen, and their daughter Ashley.

 

D'Andre is 6'5 and built like a god. Everyone says he's the next Kobe. But he's also a black kid who lives in the south.

 

Let's see what happens.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Yurt Publishing
• Release date: Jul 4, 2020
• ISBN: 9781393079705

Rocky Magaña

Rocky was born in Kansas City. His goal is to keep it cool. Keep it honest. Be himself. Toss the haters, but hold on to the people who shoot him straight. Whatever is left is everything that matters. He's an enthusiast of people who give a damn. He likes good beer and piles of bbq.

Book preview

Ellen

Ilook at the bags beneath my eyes. I pretend that the lines across my face tell my story. I wasn’t always this boring. It’s my 40 th birthday. I’m a far cry from the platinum blonde with perky tits who got married too young. I was barely 22 when I got pregnant with Conner. My poor body never recovered. By the time Ashley was born, it was all over. Look at my breasts— they’ve been filled and drained so many times— they look like a worn-out waistband on an old pair of sweatpants. My thighs haven’t faired much better— the jiggle is real. I suck in my belly and try to hide the stretch marks with my hands, masking the proof that I created life so I can feel beautiful again. Mark hasn’t looked at me in— god I can’t even remember. The last time we had sex was a month ago, but I can’t remember the last time, either one of us was present. He basically uses my vagina for masturbation— that is, if he’s not working late or has the energy to get it up at all. He says it’s not me, and that I’m as beautiful as the day we got married. He’s a good liar, and I’m okay with it. The alternative is too catastrophic to think about— the nuclear option— what do you do when your husband no longer views you as a sexual being? Who are you, if not a partner to him? At this point, who could blame him— my ass looks like a lunar landing site. I wish you could have seen me in college. I was so sexy. The prototypical southern belle. Polite and pretty. All the boys made their overtures. Still, I chose Mark because he made me laugh. God, we had a hell of a time. We thought we were so fucking invincible. Now I break a little every time he walks into the room and doesn’t acknowledge that I’m alive. I’m worse than ugly, I’m invisible. But if you ask him, we’re fine. He’s always so fucking fine with everything, and it kills me. He doesn’t know that I slept with Jillian last week. She awakened a side of me that I thought was dead and in the ground. It was like a rebirth. I’m not a lesbian, though. Hell, I don’t even really have feelings for her. I just wanted to be seen.

Rosa

Jose can’t go more than two days without going down on me. He says he’s obsessed with the taste of my womanhood. You should see the way he looks at me— everyone should have someone look at them that way at least once in their lives. I stare at my reflection in the mirror— at the bags beneath my eyes. The lines across my face that tell my story. Proof that I love my family enough to work myself into the grave to give us a better life. I’m 23, but I look 30— a far cry from the wavy-haired girl that my father used to call his Desert Rose. I was nine months pregnant on my wedding day. I met Jose at a party— he and my cousin were friends. We were just a couple of stupid kids living in the green mountains of Xilitla who had nothing better to do than fall in love. I became a mother only a few weeks after becoming a wife. I was never a skinny kid, but since I had Elena, my gut and hips have been out of control— I love her, but I will never forgive her for what she’s done to my body. At least my boobs are bigger— that’s the only benefit of getting fat. Jose loves them— despite all the weight I’ve gained, he can’t keep his hands off of me. I keep telling him that he’s lucky I can’t have any more kids; otherwise, we’d have ten by now. I thank God every day for bringing this man into my life. Our road to America was hard. Three men tried to rape me in Ciudad Victoria, but Jose fought them off. In Matamoros, the cartel attempted to kidnap Elena while she was sleeping, but I woke up and screamed. Again, Jose came running and saved us. They broke three of his ribs and fractured his hand in the fight. He acts like it doesn’t bother him— but I know it didn’t heal right and still causes him pain. We live in fear that ICE will knock on our door and take away the life we’ve sacrificed so much to build, but we also live in love. We are lucky— our home has life, and that’s more than a lot of people have. I miss my family. My mother died last month— I didn’t get a chance to say goodbye. Elena was just a baby the last time we saw each other. She never got the opportunity to hear her granddaughter’s voice. I have hope that she hears it each Día de Los Muertos, and that she sees how hard we struggle for happiness, and that it makes her proud.

Mark

Greg came by my desk this morning under the guise of saying hello, but he really came by to gloat— it was written all over his shit-eating grin. He was named National Sales Executive over me. Fuck him, I taught that little prick everything he knows. He was only promoted over me because he’s fucking our boss Kathy. Everyone knows it— it’s the worst kept secret in the office. The bastard has three kids at home, and he’s over here telling his wife that has to work late. Well congrats, your hard work paid off mother fucker. Shit, if I wanted to cheat on my wife, I could get promoted too. Hell, maybe it’s worth it— it’s not like Ellen would notice I’m plowing another woman— she would sure as hell notice the extra 50k on my paychecks though. Who am I kidding? I couldn’t do that to Ellen. Despite everything, I still love her too much to embarrass her like that. I couldn’t bear what it would do to her if it came out that I had been unfaithful. I just wish she would try a little harder. Not like makeup or lingerie or anything like that, although that would be cool— I just want her to reach out to connect with me a little bit more. It seems like with every day that passes, we have less to talk about and that the space between us gets harder cross.  It used to be that all I had to do was reach out my hand, and everything would be okay— but now it’s different— it’s not just her fault, the door is locked from both sides. What am I supposed to tell her? That I’m going nowhere? That I’ve peaked, and there is nowhere to go but down? She deserves better than the life I’m capable of giving her. Every day that I walk through that door, I feel like such a goddamn failure. Ashley is still young enough to look up to me, but Conner is at that age where he can see me for what I am. I’m worried about him. He used to be my little buddy, but like his mother, he’s so distant now. He’s a good kid, though— he’s just quiet.

Jose

Iwake up tired every day— my eyes are still red. If I get four hours of sleep, it’s a good day. I make $9.50 an hour, cutting grass. I leave before the sun comes up and get home after dark. I stink of moldy grass and sweat constantly. I try to take a shower as soon as I get home because I want my daughter to see me as a clean man— a guy she can be proud of— but sometimes Rosa won’t let me. She says that she likes how manly I smell and won’t let me get cleaned up until I make love to her. I can’t get enough of that woman. I loved her the moment I saw her under the lights on that dance floor— the way she swung her hips to Bidi Bidi Bom Bom— I damn near lost my mind. I’m terrified that we will lose the life we’ve built for ourselves. God knows we’ve had a few close calls. I risked everything to bring my family here— put them at risk. I ask myself every day if it was all worth it. People are being rounded up and piled into vans— children are locked in cages— families are separated. And that’s if you make it across the border. The trip here was hard. Women at the border are being raped and killed. The Coyotes are cruel people. The cartels are worse. If they catch you, they will kidnap you and ransom you off for whatever they can get. It’s big business in Mexico, and the cops are in on it. It took my entire life savings to get us in