Salvador Medina and Elena Tapia married in May 1938. It was a jubilant celebration overflowing with family, friends and best wishes. No one was about to miss the festivities, even if it meant riding in on a horse for three days, including Elena's closest cousin, Alberto. He was a few years older than she but they had grown up together, played together, and often confided in each other. Salvador enjoyed Alberto's company very much and understood that the cousins were more like brother and sister.
Soon after the wedding, Salvador and Elena moved into their first house together. It was an old-fashioned style structure whose kitchen resembled something like a patio. There was a roof to keep the rain out, and a ledge to store supplies. Often, though, stray cats would sneak onto the ledge and fall asleep there. Elena diligently attempted to load the ledge with pots, pans, or anything else that would take up space. They enjoyed the house and those early years spent together. For some time nothing out of the ordinary haunted the newlywed's routine.
In August of 194, while the couple prepared for a family fiesta, which was to be held in two days, Alberto came to visit. Stepping inside the kitchen, Alberto found Elena on her tip-toes struggling to push a heavy ceramic water pitcher on to the ledge. He quickly clutched the pitcher and eased it into place.
"Prima, let me help you with that before you hurt yourself."
"Ay, thank you Alberto."
When he turned to face her she could see immediately that something was wrong.
"Alberto, what's wrong? You look terrible, like you haven't slept in days."
"I'm in trouble," he blurted out. "I met a girl. We're in love."
Elena chuckled. "Well, that's good news -"
"She's fifteen, prima...and pregnant."
The two cousins sat at the table, Elena listening intently to Alberto's story. He was 27 years old and his pregnant unwed love just a girl. Her father, Senor Ibarra, was a hateful drunk who would rather see his daughter's reputation tainted than allow her to marry Alberto. He despised Alberto for reasons only he knew and had forbidden his daughter to see him.
By the time Alberto left Salvador and Elena's house, he had decided to plea to the girl's father - talk man to man. He would go to their home the next day and then update his cousin with the result as soon as he could. Throughout the next day Elena thought of Alberto's predicament and at night, while laying in bed, she said a special prayer - that her cousin would find peace and happiness. This time of year was what the people called Tiempo de Aguas, when the rain seemed to come down incessantly. Was it the pounding drops against the roof that was keeping her up or the weight of her worry for Alberto?
In the black of night a thunderous crash pierced through Elena's quiet sleep. She shot right out of bed, stunned that Salvador had not stirred, but certain that a cat had knocked over the ceramic pitcher while taking refuge from the rain. Prepared to find broken pieces scattered on the cement floor she was met instead by a kitchen in perfect order. The pitcher sat where Alberto had placed it. There were no cats anywhere. After she searched the house a bit more and found nothing out of place she shrugged the incident off and returned to bed. It was around eleven o'clock.
The following morning Salvador and Elena rose to prepare for the fiesta planned for that evening. They received a knock on the door. Hoping it might be Alberto with some news, Elena opened the door but instead saw her mother, Conchita, with a grave look on her face.
"Mama, what is it?"
"It's Alberto. He...he is in the hospital. He was stabbed last night in a street fight. But...there's no time now. People will be arriving soon. Is the food ready?"
"Mama, what are you doing?!" Elena screamed. "We have to go to the hospital right now. We have to go see him."
Conchita paced, wringing her hands until they were red. "No, no, no. He's not in the hospital. He's dead. I didn't know how to tell you. He's dead."
There were not many known details. All Conchita had heard was that authorities had found Alberto's body stabbed at the house of Senor Ibarra sometime around eleven o'clock the night before.
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