PISCA
Beto Rocha
Wakened, in the cold night, about 3:30 or 4 a.m. in the
morning; a breakfast of eggs, beans, bread, and mud at the ranch house, then
boarding a small passenger bus with his compa–eros, along with some other
farmworkers, they traveled down a country road in the darkness before dawn. In
front of them, the busesŐ headlights shown on fences as it rumbled along, with
row after row of standardized orchard trees appearing on the roadside as moving
black silhouettes behind long lines of flat, painted white boards with their
intermittent fence posts. The air was cold and biting - yet it was early
summer; in Los Angeles it was probably smoggy and tepid – and David
filled his lungs with the good smelling freshness, y una cancion popular
Mexicana came to his mind, en que dice un refran, ŇEn la fresca y perfumada
ma–anitaÓ. . . They arrived at the work place as the sky had begun to light up.
The bus rolled to a stop on hard earth near a peach tree grove, and when the
motor was turned off, its obnoxious rattle, was replaced by the post dawn
singing of birds, and the music of crickets. Los braceros formed up in a
straggling line, and were given each a ladder, a pail, and a double pouched
bag, which was put on over the head, and hung on the shoulders, the pouches
were to hold the fruit, the pails were to be left near the foot of the ladders,
the peaches were paid at 5 cents a bucket, and one had to make sure to fill the
bucket to the top. When a man had enough fruit picked for a pail or two or
more, he would climb down off the ladder, fill up his pail [algunos mas
abusados, habian conseguido dos baldes], and carry it over to the contador
[tally man], then the picker would carefully
[ 8.]
spill the peaches into a wood crate, and handing the
contador a
tally card, who would then punch a hole in the slip of
paper for each bucketful.
On a ladder, within the dark boughs of a
peach tree, David began slowly at first, being yet uncoordinated to gather and
fill the bag efficiently with the sparse fruit in the early morning light, and
hang on to the ladder at the same time. And while doing all that, stopping for
long moments to eat some of the fruit, ignoring the irritating fuzz that clung
to his tongue and throat, and ignorant of pesticides, swallowed tasty morsels
of the sweet, sun ripened peaches he came across. Nor did he pay attention to
the grit he swallowed down with the fruit, because he was much more interested
in savoring the fresh air, and smelling the sweet odor of the ripe peaches, and
in seeing the changing blueness of the sky from turquoise to light cerulean
touched with yellow, to pale sky blue. And in watching the rising of the sun
and feeling its warmth on that cold summer morning, than in a hurry to fill a
bucket – he didnŐt have the work experience of the older trabajadores who
picked the peaches for the necessity of making a living.
Climbing down and unloading the bag of its
heavy cargo into the pail, moving the ladder to another spot, his high top,
black tennis shoes easily grabbing the rungs as he clambered back on the
ladder, his face, hands and arms getting scratched on the branches of the tree
as he reached enthusiastically for the hard to get at fruit. David, young and
limber, had begun for the first time in his life, one of his three or so
experiences as a Mexican-American farmworker, putting him on the path to
becoming a Chicano.
They had been at the rancho for a little over a week,
and
had only worked a few days. Yet they were being charged
daily
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for room and board, paid for with money from their
wages, which David never saw an accounting of. Well, the few dollars they had
accumulated between them went for la comirucha, so they ate and slept, and
showered outside in an open-air stall, pero todo a costo, leaving them with
little money. To–o, delegated himself to hold all the communal money, and
distributed it among the others, but in DavidŐs case, received none at all.
Pues habian chambeado muy poco durante casi dos semanas que estubieron en el
rancho, y del dinero que habian acumula-
do en comun, les descontaban la comida, y tambien por
el lugar que ocupaban para dormir. Uno de los hermanos se puso al control del
dinero, pero David nunca vio un centavo. Se ba–aban en ba–o de regadera, que se
encontraba en la yarda cerca del dormitorio, estaba acercado de madera y sin
techo. A David le gustaba mucho la ducha, ba–andose bajo el sol a diario.
Al
fin se decidieron salirse de ese lugar, que es que se supo que habia trabajo en
la zanahoria, y se fueron temprano un dia, completos con todo sus kits and
kaboodles, sin embargo no llevaban mucho. Having come to the decisi—n to find work elsewhere, one of
them knew or had heard that there were carrots to harvest, and so, they hit the
road early one morning, and headed for greener pastures.
Once on the highway, they stuck out their
thumbs, hoping to get a ride, and amazingly in no time at all, un gabacho,
buena gente, so it seemed to David, came by in a pre-war V-8 Ford, the auto
slowed down as it went past them, the old car pulled over onto the shoulder of
the road a bit down the highway and stopped. The door on the passenger side of
the
black car, its non color faded and dusty, The driver
wore glasses that had lenses the thickness of the bottom of coke
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bottle, and his eyes appeared to be the size of
raisins, behind the thick polished
glass, and said little or nothing. ŇCould you give us a ride to the carrot
fields?Ó asked David, and the man mumbled something like, ŇIŐll take you as far
asÓ. . . and then motioned for them to get in, which they did. And, as soon as
the hitch-hikers settled into the V-8 rattle trap, the driver sped off whaling
down the road as fast as the old jalopy could go. It must have been a sleeper,
because the trees and the fields were a blur as the car zoomed down the highway
going south; tele- phone poles went by at an alarming rate. The auto had
traveled a good distance in a short space of time, when of a sudden a black and
white highway patrol car, its siren screaming, appea- red behind them. David
turned his head, and could see the patrol car closing in fast as the driver of
the V-8 slowed down, and in obedience to the law, stopped the car by the side
of the road. The patrol car stopped in front of them, blocking the old car.
There were two chippies [California Highway Patrol Officers], and one came to
the passenger side, and asked us, not in an intolerable tone of voice, for
identification. David was the only one who did, he had a high school card with
his name on it, and told the officer in his best school learned English, that
he was an American citizen, and that he had been born in the United States. The
officer then ordered the four compa–eros to get into the patrol car. David
recalls clearly, the heavy metal screen separating the passengers from the
driverŐs bench, and, from where he was sitting he could see the other chippy at
the driverŐs side of the V-8, who seemed to be writing on his ticket pad. David
felt that all that had occurred was just so matter of fact, so routine, and
happened, one could say, in the
twinkling of an eye. He had had no time for reflection, and could only observe
the event. Nor did he suspect the reality of
the situation, which was that they were caught by the
police
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cooperating with the Immigration authorities, using a
method of entrapment carried out so smoothly, that this devise prac-ticed then,
is still in play now.
It was a set up, and the trap was sprung
the moment they had set foot on the main road. Harvest time was over, at least
for the agricultural product of that area; redundant laborers not needed at the
time. Along comes an Immigrant agent full of fear or exitement, or both, doing
his part in the round up of illegals, and picks them up; drives like crazy past
a hidden patrol car, it giving chase, and the hitchhikers arrested for being in
the country sin papeles, and the Mexican-American with the mojados put into
protective custody. A sneaky job of entrapment indeed! For now its well known
that illegal workers are allowed
into the country, the Immigration authorities shuts an eye so that the crops
can be gathered during the harvest season. But, when itŐs over, rounds up the
illegals who would stay in the U.S.A. The Mexicans, staying mainly in this
country for economic, and historical reasons, are generally unaware of the
insidious process behind the tactic of, ÔWe need you, and weŐll get rid of you,
when we donŐt have a need for youŐ, a secret pact made by private agro-business
in cahoots with the Immigration authorities, and the police.
The patrol car drove past the point where
they had thum- bed the ride, they were headed north to Stockton, and To–o of
the Maldeojos brothers, spoke very quietly to David, taking advantage of the
noise coming from the car radio, using it as a cover as he spoke – so
that the chippies would not overhear – the radio was blaring out
information, and the officer at the
wheel, speaking back at it into the mike, the other man
was
busy making out a report. ŇHaste como que no nos
conoces,Ó he said, Ňno menciones mi nombre ni los de ellos.Ó Signifying the
other two cuates. [ŇPretend that you donŐt know us,
donŐt
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mention my name nor of the others.Ó] Now the reason why
To–o told David to play the game of deception with the
cops, was because, he had previously done time in jail for sneaking across the
U.S.A.-Mexico border, and he and his brother had been caught. The Immigration
judge threatened him, at the time of his sentencing, that if he were caught
again, he would have to serve a longer term in prison.
David was the first to be taken into
custody, and at Stock- tonŐs Juvenile Hall, getting out of the car; just before
being led into the building, and having forgotten To–oŐs instructions,
inadvertently blurted out a farewell, ŇPues, nos vimos To–o.Ó [Ill be seeing
you To–o] But when the Maldeojos brother did not respond, David instantly
recalled why the man was silent, but it was too late.
He spent three or four days in
protective custody, in among youngsters more or less his own age, major and
minor felons, who fought, cussed or horsed around, or sat around bored,
spending their time in the kidŐs hoosegow. Initially, David was locked up for a
day or so, and food was brought to him. He was in a cell with room enough for a
metal cot, a toilet and a washbasin. He covered the cot with a thin mattress,
on top of which he placed an institutional grey blanket, and a pillow, which he
had been given in the process of his incarceration. The place must have
originally been an old timey jail, for the walls of the cell were white washed
bricks, and the door at the entrance of the tiny room was made of heavy lumber
with a small barred opening, just enough space for a jailorŐs face to appear in
or disappear from. Imprisoned also was a caged light bulb on the ceiling, which
burned all night, making it a bit
difficult to sleep. A Mexican song, popular during that
decade,
which went, ŇCuando estaba yo en la carcel, solito me
entretenia, contando los eslabones que mi cadena tenia. Que
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noches tan negras la de la prision, suenan los
candados, la del
Corazon.Ó The melody being somewhat sad, with Ôsorry
for yourselfŐ lyrics, much in keeping with how young David then felt.
Yet, within that isolated cunuco [small,
hidden tucked away place], was the consolation of a good size window, though
covered with chain link fencing, nevertheless letting in the light of the
glorious sun. David sat on the end of the cot, and for a time watched some of
his fellow inmates play baseball, during his first day in the Stockton juvenile
clink.
Before David was let out of the can, his mom was
informed that he could only be released to the care of a parent or relative.
So, mama had to take a bus north to Stockton to pick David up, bringing her
second son Ikie with her, his baby sister Tina, was left in the care of a
trusted relative. ŇMi esposo no podia dejar el trabajo, por eso tuve que ir
sola.Ó On her arrival, David was released to her custody, and back to L.A.,
they went.
The brothers Maldeojos and Donato were already staying at the house on
mamaŐs and DavidŐs return. DavidŐs slip of the tongue had not been not been
enough evidence to have the two bro- thers condemned for months or up to a year
of incarceration. Once in the hands of the Immigration authorities, To–o lied
as to his and his brotherŐs surname, and they were able to escape being jailed.
A el y a su hermano los habian arrestado y hecha- dos fuera varias veces del
pais Norte Americano, y con esta ultima, casi les habia llegado el tiempo para
que los metieran al bote for law breakers. They had both been arrested and
depor- ted often enough to be thrown in jail. Mama, bien furiosa con los
hermanos, decia de ellos, ŇEsos parasitos amigotes de tu
papa cuando uno de ellos, ŇCon el vino se tragaba no
solo uno, pero hasta quatro vitaminas a la sentada.
[ 14.]