El Valiente - The Brave One

Back in 2000 I started recording family ghost stories as told to me by my Mom, my Grandma, and letters from my Aunt Socorro. Around that time I was taking an English course on memoirs and for an assignment I presented those family ghost stories as if they were being told to me and my other cousins by our Uncle George. Why did I choose my Uncle George as the storyteller? Because I (and my cousins who were present) share a vivid memory of one night we were all at his house, in my cousin Lorrie's room, waiting for him to tell us a ghost story. I can't remember what his story was about (something about an old outhouse) but the anticipation and excitement are what fuels this memory. That and the 10 feet leap into Uncle George's lap that cousin Desiree took when Ruben pounded on the window from the backyard! Here is the introduction to that memoir assignment, exactly as I wrote it, almost exactly as I remember it. 

The girls piled themselves onto the cushy queen-sized bed, wrapped up in patterned quilts and watched a single candle flicker its subtle glow upon the shadowed walls. They chattered and chuckled with excitement as they as they awaited their Uncle George's entrance. What a fantastic figure of power Uncle George was - in the eyes and perspectives of these girls! He was a stout, block-shaped man who spoke with a booming crash of a voice that shook walls and woke sleeping spirits. He had slicked-back black hair and a full mustache that curled down around the corners of his mouth. Just underneath the short sleeves of his ironed white t-shirts, the girls could see the green shading of tattoos on his veined arms. They were the first punctuation to his intimidating image. Even for all his dark and threatening physical attributes, Uncle George was a gentle man - gentle with children, that is. The moment he entered the room where the girls anxiously awaited him, they were overcome with the strength of his protection. As far as they knew, no person, ghost or goblin would dare to cross his path. Feeling the warm security of each other on the queen-size bed and the presence of their Uncle, sitting on a chair beside them, they eagerly relaxed into position to heart the wonders and mysteries of their family ghost stories.

And that's how I'll always remember my Uncle George.