Chapter Eleven

Months went by and everything was just fine, no voices talking to me, no bad feelings, I had a job, my own little place, and everything was just right. I was closed to my Sister Belinda, and I was doing everything possible to make her feel proud of me. I could not thank her enough for her help, and she thought being embarrassed by her dysfunctional family was over hah! She even moved to a different country, and she still could not run away and far enough from her dysfunctional family. She thought she had, but I really proved her wrong on that one, because there I was, her little crazy brother one more time begging her for her help, and embarrassing her in front of everyone. That is how I felt around her sometimes, but in all reality, I was just embarrassed of myself. I couldn't explain what really happened to me. I really didn't know if it was just a dream that I took to serious or if I really went crazy, and if that was the case, how comes that I was fine again without taking any medicines? Many times I asked myself if during that time I thought God was talking to me I did crazy things, and the answer was, "Yes I did. I really did some crazy things." but did I hurt or endanger anyone? "No" so far everything was okay, and to know that, gave me hope in a better future. "I was mental and sad, but social."
I started going to church every Sunday, and at the beginning everything was just fine. I was really listening to what they were saying at the pulpit, but I couldn't understand much about what they were talking about, and that was because my family and I, we were going to an English speaking congregation. At the beginning I was having fun going to church on Sundays, and I wanted to believe so bad that at the pulpit they were speaking words of wisdom from God. After a couple of months of going to church I went through the western accent, and I started to understand better what they were saying, and I realized that they were talking the same old nonsense as always. At that time I remember missing the feeling of being close to God, and I really thought that if I went to the temple I was going to be closer to God again. I even asked a bishop for authorization to visit a temple, but he lied to me saying, "Anybody can go to the Temple. Our Temples do not belong to the Church, they belong to the Lord, and if you feel like God is telling to go there who I am to stop you. If you feel that God wants to see you there, you should be able to go to the temple." He let somebody else explained to me that in order to go to a temple I had to have a temple recommendation, and I needed to start paying money first. Even if you have been good, but haven't paid your tithing, you can't get into a Mormon temple. That was shocking to my logic, and from that moment on, I felt and remember that God was right when he said, "Good luck having somebody believing you about our conversations. There is no true religion in the face of the Earth at this moment, in the other hand, any religion is better than no religion at all."
From that moment on I realized that in order to be really in the side of God, I needed to have No Religion and No Flag, because was God was above all religions. I realized that if you believed in God doesn't matter where you are, what is important is to know what you are, and what you decide to be.
Going to Church was fun! Anyhow at church I got to know people, and being around good people really helped me to stay motivated and away from tobacco. Even if I didn't like to hear what they were saying most of the time, I went to church anyways, and even if I had to plug my ears when they started talking about God, I was happy to have a group of people where I could socialize. I had to plug my ears because as far as I understood the words of God, in my point of view, they were far away from having a clue about what they were talking about. There in the church I met wonderful people, people that in my books were talking rubbish in the name of God, but they were nice people, and they were people with faith in their hearts. They were people completely convinced that there was a superior being away, way out there in a place call Heaven, and of course the only way to get there was paying money to their Church, and believing, and doing whatever the Church said, even if that was to vote for a political party, and if you didn't, you were the Devil, and you will be cast out of society because God said so.
As the time progress it became more and more difficult for me to stay for four hours every Sunday listening to this kind of nonsense, especially listening over and over how important was to pay and give your money to the Church. I was more than poor, and I was constantly being asked to give back to the Church, especially if I wanted to go to the Temple.
Not even six month of being here in Salt Lake, my mom Mercedes asked me, "Son what do you think about your sister Silvia coming over here from Chile and staying here with us? Would you give her a hand?" I thought hard and long about that one and I said back to her, "This place called America is neither paradise nor Zion. I think it will be a big mistake for her to come over here, because she has always been a thief, and over here nobody does that. In my opinion for her to come over here will be a great mistake, on the other hand I am barely getting out of a big emotional breakdown from ending a long serious relationship, and I am barely starting to get adjusted to this new life and this new place. I'm just barely surviving in this very difficult to survive society." My mom said, "But isn't better here than back over there in Chile? At list here with the help of the Church, nobody goes hungry, and you are doing okay. Why can't she do the same? She is a very hard worker, and she is way smarter than you. I think she will do great here. I'm sure she will make a lot of money here." I asked her, "Is she thinking on coming here with her son Kabir?" My Mom said, "Nobody is saying that she is coming over here." And she ended the conversation right there. She never mentioned the subject again, and if I asked her, she changed the subject really quick. My sister Silvia has always thought of me as a royal idiot, and she always since I remembered, she liked to made fun of me. Since I was little she used to call me mean names, and she always treated me like an idiot, because on her eyes I was stupid, and nothing but an untalented retard. For me she was nothing but a thief! That is what she was for me, nothing but a scum bag, but still my sister and I loved her very much. I had faith and I thought that one day she will realized that God exist and she will eventually become a good person.
I was barely getting settled here in my new life, and I was starting to feel at home when one afternoon all of the sudden, my sister Silvia knocked the door of my apartment. I was in the kitchen being happy with myself, thinking of God, and giving God thanks for all his blessings, until I open the curtain on the kitchen window, and saw her face. Honestly it was like seeing the Devil one more time.
I was more than surprised, but nothing I could do about it, and she said to me, "I don't have any place where to stay and I have no money, so I am going to have to stay here in your apartment for a few. Thanks brother of mine. You like always, such a good person." I knew that what she meant with that was, "Thanks for another useful fool like you." I was in disbelieved. My mom Mercedes one more time has lied to me, and this time with impunity. I was so mad at her, but nothing I could do about it either.
After she started living in my apartment, with her son, and her boyfriend, in less than two weeks I was back smoking cigarettes again. She found cigarettes very inexpensive here in America, so she started smoking cigarettes American style. She had a couple packs in the glove compartment of my car, an ashtray in the kitchen with a pack of cigarettes on the side, and another ashtray out on the porch. I told her not to smoke inside the house, and she told me, "That's why I put a table outside in the hallway dear brother, so you can smoke outside if you want to." I started hating my life once again badly, I couldn't believe that not even here in the United states I couldn't escape from my dysfunctional family, then I thought of the word "Touché!" My Sister Belinda gave me a hand to me, even if she didn't want to, and now I was giving a hand back to my sister even if I didn't want to.
Not even six months from her being here, she got arrested for stealing medicine at a Reams Grocery Store. It was beyond embarrassed having to go with her to court for stealing.
She started working at a bar that had a dance floor with a live band on the weekends, and during the week it was a regular restaurant. I was doing nothing but going to church and working, and that was my world before she got here, and I was happy with my world as it was. Now I was stinking like cigarettes one more time. At home I was surrounded by smoke, and my sister never understood that I was asking her seriously about not smoking inside the house. I tried to explain to her that it was against the apartment rules to smoke inside the apartment, but rules for my sister Silvia were for suckers. Trying to explain rules to her was like trying to explain advance mathematics to a dog. I was her younger brother, and I had to respect her, whatever that meant. It is hard to explain how bad she was for my spiritual world, but she didn't even give a fuck literally. you could hear her having sex in the room, because she brought her new boyfriend from Chile with her-a priest from who knows what Church-and her fifteen years old son that was nothing but a bad bag of tricks.
After a couple of months she told me that I could better my life working a bit more; that I should find another job, and work two jobs. She said to me, "Weren't you complaining back in Chile that there was no work? Now that you are here in a place where there are lots of jobs, don't you do not want to work? What's wrong with you? You should at least work in the weekends on a part time at least. At my work they are looking for some security guards."
I don't know what took over me, and one of those days I applied for the job as a security guard, and very soon I started to work there on the weekends at night. The only thing I can rescue out of that nasty situation with my sister Silvia was the fact that there while working as a Bouncer I met the most beautiful girl I have ever seen.
About the second weekend I started working at that bar I saw a blond girl that looked like she was sleeping over the table. She had her head resting over her hands, and when I looked at her, at that very moment seems like she felt me looking at her, because she lift her head looking straight back at me. At that moment I saw the most beautiful face ever, and from across the room I could see the shape of her long and thin hands. I thought, "What a beautiful girl." As she lifted her head up a guy came over and invited her to dance, and she accepted the invitation. In the middle of the dance floor, there were not many people dancing, and it was hard for me not to stare at her. She was beautiful.
Right after that moment I went outside to check the parking lot which was one of my duties as a security guard. That night I was wearing nothing but black, and at the end of my round I saw this beautiful girl smoking a cigarette outside. When I saw her I did something I never do, I went straight to her and I tried to start a conversation. As you could imagine, my English back then was terrible, but that didn't stopped me from trying to talk to her. As I was talking to her she started smiling with that king of smile, trying not to laugh because of my bad accent. She talked back to me and she told me her name. Her name was Ginny, and I couldn't understand what she was saying at first, because I had never before heard that name. As I looked closer to her I realized that she had green eyes and her natural colors where so beautiful. My heart was pounding hard as I got closer to her, and the look on her face was so special, that even if it was against the rules, I asked for her phone number, and she gave it to me. I was out of my body when she did and I was like, alright!
After a few days I called her up, and we were able to understand each other good enough that we set up a date. My first date ever here in the U.S. Alright!
On our first date I took her to restaurant on 13th East and 21st street, in the Sugar House Area. Ginny told me that she likes sea food, so I did my best and I took her to a nice restaurant. I had some extra money from my part time job, so it was great to have a little bit of money to spear. When we sat down I was a bit disappointed, because the place had old sticky tables, and had a fishy smell, but anyhow the place was nice, and the food was delicious.
For some reason everything seemed different around her, everything was nicer, and just looking at her was a treat. We had fun that night trying to understand each other, and she had a wonderful sense of humor. We had a great time. At the end of that first date I asked her if she would like to go out again with me, maybe not to dinner, but we could go to the movies or go for a ride, and she liked the idea. That night when I dropped her home she said, "I have something to tell you. You need to know that I am pregnant. That night that you saw me at the restaurant it was right after the moment when I just found out that the father of the baby went back to Mexico. He ran away a few days after I let him know I was pregnant. So if you don't want to pick me up this weekend, I will understand. Nice to meet you, bye." She said that to me while closing the door of my Van-still that same old van-and after she left, took me a minute to react, because it really took me by surprise. What she said was like a bucket of ice cold water over my head. I went home and I couldn't make up my mind, it took me days to understand myself, and what I was feeling about her. She was all I ever dream to find in a woman, and it was weird because there was something beyond her pretty face that I could not explain. I thought at first that was because she was pregnant, but there was something else. I didn't know what to make of this situation, but I realized that for sure I wanted to see her again.
After working hard all week, like a good Spanish in America the weekend came, and I couldn't wait to see her again. That weekend we went to the dollar movies, and I don't remember what movie was, but I remember looking at her profile, and looking at the color of her hair. She looked amazing that day.
After the movie we went for a ride, and we stopped at a viewpoint on the hill that has the letter H painted white on the East side. We looked at the sunset and we kiss that night.
About two weeks from that moment I was talking to her on the phone, and the phone dropped to the floor. I heard the phone dropped and after a few seconds somebody picked it up and her cousin told me, "She is having a seizure. Call her later" and the girl hang up on me. I didn't know what a seizure was, so I didn't understand what happened. After about an hour she called me back and the first thing I did was to ask her what happened. She said, "I just had an Epileptic seizure. I suffer from seizures, but I haven't had one in more than a year. I don't know what happened. Can you give me a ride to the hospital if I need to go to see my doctor? I said, "Sure. Whenever you need a ride just let me know the day before, and I will take you to see the Dr."
That week I took her to the Dr. and they run a whole bunch of tests on her. At the end they told her that she was showing normal levels of medicine on all the blood tests, and that she has no other drugs interacting with her Phenobarbital, but it could be that her body is creating a resistance to the medicine trying to protect the fetus. That was the only explanation they could find. I asked to the Dr. "Doc if she gets a resistance to the medicine, how are you going to control her seizures? Are you going to give her another medicine?" The Doc said, "There is nothing we could do about it, is too late now to change medicines. Seizures medicines take years to work well, and anyway we can't give her any other medicines, because they will damage the fetus. Other medicines could create holes in the baby's spine, just to mention one side effect, and there is nothing we can do about it." I asked, "What happened if she does start having too many seizures?" The Doc said, "There is the risk that she could die." And the doctor left. I looked at Ginny and I said to her, "Don't worry. It'll be okay." And I took her back to her house.
We kept in touch and I got to know her better, and got to know her situation better too. When she told me her story it was a real sad one. It was hard for me to believe that an American white person was going through such a hard time, and that nobody cared. She had a very abusive boyfriend that got caught selling drugs, she had two boys taken by the state, and the father of her new baby fled to Mexico. Her mother already had it with her, so she didn't want anything to do with her at the moment, and Ginny at that moment really needed help. She was starting to have more seizures, and she was living in a basement with a family that had a couple of little kids, and as she put it those little kids didn't let her rest. I really wanted to help her out but I had no means to do it. She needed an apartment and like the Dr. said, she needed to be very calm, with no stress, because stress on her case can increase the risk of having a grand molar seizure attack. One of those days I asked for an appointment to speak with the bishop at the singles ward that I was going at the time. In my desperation trying to help her out I even tried to see if my bishop could do something about it. He gave me an appointment and after I explained the situation to the bishop, he said, "She is not Mormon, and she does not belong to this congregation." I was in disbelieved and I just couldn't understand why the Bishop could not help her out. She was an American Disable person receiving a pension that not even me, a very healthy man could live on, and on top of all that she was pregnant. I got so upset that words came out of my mouth that probably shouldn't. I told the Bishop, "God talked to me and with his understanding, I can tell you that you are wrong. She is a good person in need of help. Her mom can't help her, her sister is out of the state, and I think she does deserve your help." The Bishop found interesting the fact that I mention that God had spoken with me, but he couldn't help, "Mrs. Ginny." Sorry he said. I stand up grabbed Ginny by the hand and I said, "You can go and tell whoever you are suppose to tell about what I just mentioned, but know that you are committing a sin not helping her." The Bishop replied, "You are not the only one who talks to God. You know?" and added, "If you knew how many come to my desk telling so many things that God had told them. You have no idea. You are not the only one Mr. Carpenter." I answered in my best English, "I am a little bit different. I could make that dead lake to have fish again. That's possible!" I left that office so upset with the Church, that actually after that moment I never came back. That was pretty much the last time I went to the Mormon Church.
After I said that and I calmed down I was so embarrassed to hear myself talking as if I had any authority to mention God's Name. Not to mention that even for me those words sounded outlandish, but that's what I said to the bishop that day.
Ginny's story was a sad story, and actually hers being a girl, definitely was way far worse than mine. I said to her not to worry, because with me by her side she had nothing to fear, and I told her that nobody was going to take her baby away from her this time. Soon after that we rented a two bedrooms apartment, and that is how we started living together. Well not all that together, she had her bedroom and I had mine.
As diagnosed by the Dr. she got really sick, and she started having seizures every time more often. At a point things got very bad, and I had to take her to the emergency room. I waited for her until things were at least okay again, and I took her home again. At the time I was working in a counter top shop that made lifetime warranty counter tops for the government, and for the first time they learned that I had a wife. I don't like to lie in any way possible, but the situation was way too complicated to explain, and I thought they were not going to understand me. I told my boss that my wife Ginny had Epilepsy and that she was doing very well, but right after she got pregnant she developed a resistance to her medicine. I said to him that now she was having seizures way more often, and that the baby was at risk. I asked them for permission to leave in case of an emergency and good thing they authorized me to do so. I said to my boss, "I don't mention her much, but my job application says that I'm married." And that was true they have me as a married man on my job application. I don't remember why I said I was married when I got to that job, but I guess in my desperation to get a job I wanted to look more serious.
All of the sudden my life went from very monotonous to very busy, very quick and by then, my old van was really dying on me. My old van was about to drop dead at any time. It was a Ford after all.
Knowing that my van could die at any moment I went to the dealer and I bought a new car-new for me of course. After looking and looking without any luck, because I didn't make enough money, and I didn't have any credit was a car worth about five thousand dollars, and the best price they could sell it to me was eight thousand, but don't worry they said with this car, "you will start building your credit, and you can afford 250 a month right?" They told me nothing but lies and there was nothing that I could do to get out of the contract even if I tried. My interest rate it supposed to be around 8%, but a copy of the contract that they sent to my home after a month and a half, said 27.5%. I just couldn't believe it. An interest rate that high in my country was illegal, to charge anything over 11% it was a crime, and here in the U.S. I thought it was more than illegal to do something like that, but one more time I was wrong. Whatever I knew about the law in my country was worthless here in the U.S.
I got scammed, and way later on when my car got repossessed, even a Judge went to say, "I know Mr. Larry H Miller personally, and I am surprised that he is using such a high percentage rates in his loans. But that it does not exonerate you or excused you from paying the debt. Guilty of breach of contract, and from now on you are to pay this debt." The Judge asked me how much I could pay a month, and even if I had to repay the debt, the Judge allowed me to restructure my debt, and pay it back in monthly payments." At that moment the Judge generated a financial instrument that the dealer could sell to investors in the market of "The Almost money Market." A very interesting market here in the U.S. and Immigrants are fare target of this predatory practices, once you sign a contract here in the U.S., there is a whole system living off of it, and profiting off of it. That is how many "Smart People" live in America, they are praying on the Elderly people and immigrants. Honestly it has been so profitable that they are corrupting the system. Good and bad both multiply "You gotta make a decision America or you are with me or you are against me." Man I was so upset but nothing I could do about it. At least I had a car when I needed it the most. That was the car that I used to take her to the hospital countless times while Ginny was pregnant.
It was so hard for me to make ends meet at that time. Ginny and I put together our money and still it was so hard to make it. Her doctor has declared her a totally disable person but the State of Utah, they don't accept the word of the doctor. That gives Ginny a lot of trouble and stress, and that is precisely what triggers her seizures. The State don't want her to be a total disable person, and they bother her and give her hell just for the point of keeping their jobs, because it gives them something to do. Here in Utah it doesn't matter what the doctor knows and says, the clerk at the desk knows better. I don't like that Republican way of keeping busy some people here in the State of Utah. This people get a good job and they make a good living just messing with disable and poor people. It cost more to keep their bureaucracy running than what it cost to help the ones in need. That in my books is corruption, and if you don't know that, even to this day they keep messing with disable people, even to this day Ginny have to fill those applications every three months to received her benefits, and even if she can't fill them out, they make her fill those applications anyways. And don't get me going about Utah Republican system of running Jails, and public services, because they are a scam to the people.
Somehow we survived, barely but we did. I was working 10 Hrs a day six days a week, and Ginny every day that went by she got worse and worse. I would come home and she was absent and with bruises all over her body. I have never seen before a lacerated tongue, her tongue was ripped apart, she had so many seizures that her intellect was decreasing with every seizure. I saw her go from a normal level of intelligence to completely out of her head. I had witness the transformation and she was carrying another life inside of her. I worried so much, but there was nothing I could do about it.
Working that hard was tough on me, but one thing was good about that, and that was the fact that time flew by really fast, and soon we were at the hospital welcoming the birth of our daughter. At that moment on time she was my daughter and Ginny gave me the honor to pick her name. I named her Stephanie. At that moment she was already in my heart and she was now our baby. I was so impressed to have a little creature with such strong will to survive. Having her in my hands it was like holding a true miracle. Ginny during her pregnancy visited the emergency room countless times, and I think she sometimes abused it, but regardless of little details the baby was born, and she was a healthy little one. Like every newborn she was not a good looking baby, but as the days went by, that little duck transformed into the cutest thing ever!
She was for sure a survivor. She had to fight really hard to be here. Her mother while pregnant had so many seizures, she even fall from standing up like a sack of potatoes to the floor, she hit her face on the kitchen counters, fall over the stove top with the burners on, and so on and such. I was amazed that she was a healthy little baby, healthy and strong, and seeing Ginny to be so resilient and determined to have her baby that made me admired her courage. She risked her life to have her baby and even if the father left her, she decided to have and keep the baby anyways. I can say for sure that it was not her brain saying that, it was her heart or her instincts protecting that new life with her own life. For me it was beautiful to see those qualities imbedded in the very roots of what she was. I fell in love with her, for me she was really strong, and I was happy to be there by her side in a moment of weakness, in a moment when she was down in hell.
After all the troubles that we had, on top of all that the State of Utah was giving her every crap that they could through at her, with applications after applications that Ginny needed to fill, and my income needed to be reported, and they were doing everything possible to terminate her benefits. It is hard to understand how much of disregard for logic and how much of an assholes they could be with people going through such a hard times, and you see it happening over and over, even with people having mental problems, the first thing they ask them is to fill applications full of traps. Applications that are even difficult to fill them out for a normal person, and there attitude and disregard are preposterous. They never tell you what to do, every time you make a question is like hitting a wall, a wall of ignorance and corruption. To those inhumane assholes that make a living stealing from the poorest and those in need, in the name of God screw you! They are making a living stealing from those who need help the most.
After Stephanie's birthday we knew we were going to be together for a long time, and I said "Girl like I promised you, I am not going to leave you, and I am not letting the State of Utah take this little cute thingy away from you. I'll be there for you. Would you marry me?"
For the second time I had made the same mistake in my life, because after I broke up with Veronica I promised not to have a relationship ever again with a woman that has already a child, but there I was in love with two girls that needed me very much. I felt like a hero by their side, but at the same time, now I had a reason to exist, and that was making my life a lot happier, and at the same time way more difficult as well, but I do like challenges.
I am not going to bored you with a long sad story, but you can understand how hard it is to survive here in America for a person that comes from outside of this country an immigrant like me, but is harder to understand how "The Champions of the World" could have it so hard on their own land, the land of the free, The Greatest Democracy on Earth, how come that here in America millions of Children are living in poverty. Life is hard, but I thought that at list in one country over the world the people were really free and part of a nation. What kind of Nation abandons its citizens, and live them to rotten in the street.
A human needs a material path as much as a Spiritual path, and God say's Spirit over matter, meaning that in a human is more important the state of his mind, than the state of health of its body. We humans have been looking for the other half of us since we were born. Do not worry about the next life or the life before this one, the God I met cares about the kind of life you are having today. God cares about today because today is where tomorrow begins, and if you are not careful today, tomorrow you might not be here at all.
The doctor said that now that the baby was born he was going to be able to start Ginny on a new medicine, but for her to fully recovered it could take anywhere from two to three years, and even up to seven years for her to get better.
It was obvious for everybody on her family that I was marrying her just for the papers, but I said "No is not because of the papers I do love her, I am in love with her, and she will get better. She will be again as good as she was doing when I first met her. We will be happy ever after, and Stephanie is my daughter. I will be always by her side, as long as I live. I will always be her father no matter what. She will be always my daughter, and I do not care if later on she doesn't want me to be her dad, that will be her decision, not mine. No one believed me at the time, but I was speaking English when I said that, because I said what I meant, and I meant what I said."
We had a little wedding, her Grandmother of course thought of me as inferior being, a sub human species, and a disgrace for her white heritage, but anyways she organized a very nice lunch at the Little America the day of the wedding. We got married at the court house and it was a nice ceremony. Ginny and I got our rings out of a pawn shop, because that was all we could afford. The rings were as simple as they could be, and I made a little wooden box with my own hands for them. I still remember that the wood I used to make the box was Mahogany, by then my favorite wood. When I put the rings on that little box I prayed to God to bless that box, the rings and our union. At the court house we handed the little box to the minister, and the wording I found it full of it, but whatever, at the end of the short ceremony we were married. Right after we went to lunch to the Little America with grandma, her mother, her Aunt, and her two best friends Nevis and Christine. It was a nice lunch and that is how we started our lives together.
I felt in love with a girl of a beautiful spirit and astonishing looks, and as the months went by little by little Ginny started to improved. She was taking care of the baby during the day and I was taking care of the baby at night. And there it was, a little girl staring right back at me with eyes full of love. She was now my Little-one. Stephanie Alexandra Carpenter, born in August 11 of 1996. Since then she has been the inspiration of my life.
After looking and looking for a better paying job, I found a very good job making fifteen bucks an hour at a very nice high end remodeling company. Finally, I was going to make enough money to take care of my new family "The Carpenters" Since our lives tangled together I was not alone anymore, and I had a great sense of responsibility with a great deal of inspiration. I had a new born and a disable person getting used to her new medicine. I did what I could, with what I had. We had no money to pay for any help, and nobody in our families could give us a hand either. We were so poor, but with the little we had, we made miracles, and we started to survive just fine. It was such a difficult time and to top of all that the State it was suing us for the benefits that Ginny has received from the moment we started to live together until we got married. They were suing us for all that money, and all that time we were living under the poverty line income wise. All that time I was being very careful and frugal with the money, and we were always behind, one pay check away from disaster, many times behind, and the State of Utah made us pay them all the money back, in payments, but they took all the money back until the last penny. Is hard to describe how much stress they put on us, and how many seizures they caused to her, hard to describe all the pain and suffering they made us go through.
Ginny wasn't doing as good as she was when I met her, but she was doing better. Unfortunately just like in a nightmare, at the time when I really needed her supports the most, she acted the worse ever. With a lot of effort and hard work I have become a supervisor at my new job, and I was doing great, except for one complain, and that was: Ginny needed to stop calling me at work. She started calling often to the office of my new job. For some reason she could not understand that she could not call me at work, at least not as often as she was doing it. She not only called at list three times a week to the office, she even went to say that it was an emergency. Some times because of bad reception at the job site she couldn't wait and she call the office saying that it was an emergency, and when I talked to her that emergency was that she was about to run out of Milk, and when I got home, she still had over half of a gallon in the fridge. I was in the field and they had to stop and send somebody to get me. I was being too much of a distraction for everyone involved in every call she made, and I begged her not to call me at work but she didn't stop and I did get fired because the calls didn't stop. I even bought me a Cell phone so she didn't call the office, but it was just a waste of time. She was unable to even remember I ever mention that to her, that is how bad she was still doing. At least she was taking okay care of Stephanie during the day.
Because of her I lost the best job I ever had since I got to this country, and I really liked to work for them. I liked the kind of work I was doing on that company, and especially the pace at what it was required to work. I was doing the best I could, and she got me fired. That was devastating for my moral, but you know what I did? Instead of hating life, I applied for a General Contractor license, and I thought, "Maybe I could get my own work, and be my own boss. At the same time if there is an emergency, I could just run home and take care of the problem." I kept working here and there, and I even started working as a cook for a Chinese restaurant for a while. I had no health insurance, and I couldn't afford to buy Ginny's medicines, that job as a cook for a Chinese was all I could find at the time, and let me tell you, it was one of the hardest jobs ever, well not really, but you get the idea. Where I was really being exploited was in Miami Florida. Oh man!
In the other hand now thanks to Ginny, I had a few real opportunities to better our lives because now I had my papers. Like you can see, sometimes here in the U.S. not everything is a bed of roses, and people in another countries dream to come here. What they don't know is that sometimes is even harder here in the U.S
At the time I was still missing my favorite person in the world, my Champ, my "Campeon", "El Chevy." Sebastian, it was hard to believe, but once in awhile I got emotional because I still missed him. Tears will appear in my eyes and Ginny asked me, "Why are you so sad?" and I explained to her the story of my Daddy Oscar, and how that related to Sebastian, and at the same time I explained to her that maybe it was all in my head, but that was what I believed. I believed that a human could express signs of true love for another human. I believed in true love, I was in love, and that proved my theory that true love does exist. I was living it.
Little by little I was recovering from wanting to end my own existence, and Ginny was getting better too. Little by little she was recovering and showing signs of improvement, and Stephanie was such a doll, healthy and happy. She really was making me smile, just like Sebastian used to do, even if I had nothing to laugh about, they made me.
Slowly and with a lot of perseverance, we started to get a hold of our own destiny. We had moved several times from place to place, always looking for the best and the cheapest place possible, but still struggling just to survive.
Lucky me finally I was able to get my General Contractor License, and for some reason I was being loyal to my madness. For some reason even if I had no evidence to support my dream of God talking to me, I was relentless and I kept my faith. In all logic my dream it was nothing but that, just a dream, but I still wanted to live my life without stealing, without lying, not being hypocrite, and I was working with my hands. Even if I was not completely convinced of what happened, I wanted to walk the path as God wanted me to do so.
I had nothing but dreams and optimism at the time, and I was doing a bit better on my own little remodeling company. I was getting my name out there, and every time I was getting paid a bit better. The word of mouth was working well for me, and my customer service was excellent, even when my English was not all that good, but regardless of my language barrier my honesty, hard work, responsibility and good prices were keeping my little company afloat and it was growing steadily little by little.
At that time as well I even had a friend in New York that wanted to be partners with me, and I decided to go and visit to talk some more about the possibility of becoming partners.
I bought the airplane tickets two weeks in advance, and I had everything ready to go to New York. At the time I was working finishing a very nice basement of a friend of a friend. That was the way I was starting to get my jobs. After one week from the moment I bought the tickets, I was working finishing their basement when Mrs. Sanders called me up in a hurry, and she looked and sounded very worried. She made me run to watch what was going on in the news. She explained to me that one big commercial airplane has crashed into the Twin Towers in New York, and that they fear that it might be a terrorist attack. We were just talking about that when we saw live on TV the second aircraft crashing into the other twin tower. We were in awe saying, "Oh my God! What's this?" We couldn't believe it, and I think you know the rest of the story. In 2011 my little one was five years old already, and I was thirty four. I was just starting to play chess, and I do remember at the time, I was going to McDonalds to study chess while Stephanie had fun on the playground.
I kept calling the airline after the 9/11 asking if my flight to New York has been cancelled, I really thought that I was not going to be able to go, but no, my flight was, "On time and on schedule." One week after the September 11th of 2001, I was there in New York, and I got to see with my own eyes the destruction and devastation caused by this disaster. It was overwhelming to see the wreckage and the sorrow present on people's faces. I saw many other faces on pictures of people missing all over town. On my rented car, I went to see the pentagon, and there were blocks of news vans, one after the other. What called my attention the most was the look in people's faces. You could see the impression of sorrow and disbelieve on their faces. Never been in New York before, and because of what was going on, I couldn't go to the Empire State building or the Statue of Liberty. Everything was closed to the public. One of the things I will never forget when I saw the wreckage was the smell of human burnt flesh on the air. I have burnt myself before badly and because of that, I know the smell of burning human flesh, and let me tell you it was all over downtown.
That trip was a short one, I stayed only one week and it was all business pretty much, and I am glad that it was a short one. Just by mere coincidence I was there in New York, one week after the attack. In a way I was glad I was not living over there, and I was not being directly affected by it, but I never thought that what happened over there in New York, it was going to affect me personal life here in Utah, but at the end it did.
A couple months after 9-11 the International Airport of Salt Lake City was raided by federal agents, and my Sister Silvia was caught working in a federal facility with false papers. That was the time when my life came tumbling down by the ripple effects of September 11th. In my case that was another terrible September 11 for me.
At that moment I realized that Silvia was already late in her house payments, and I had no choice but to consider the alternative of moving in with her. Like I said some people never learn. I started to consider that option because she needed all the help she could get, and because when she bought that house I signed on it as a co-signer. I didn't want to let my credit go bad, I was scared, and I didn't know what was going to happen to me, if we ended up defaulting on the payments. You hear so many versions of what could happened that you don't know what to think or what to believe. My rental agreement was at the moment a month to month lease. I have already been renting that apartment for more than a year, and after that we could move out of there at any time. We didn't want to move out, because we were doing just fine, but in order to save my credit, and help my sister Silvia, we had no other option than to move in with my sister Silvia. I knew from the beginning, that moving in with her, it was not going to be okay. She had already a full house, and she has given the whole basement to her son Kabir. Her son, my nephew Kabir, was about nineteen-years old, and the house when I moved in was pretty much a drug house. People was in and out of that house pretty much twenty four seven. Kabir had not finished his high school, and had no intentions to work either. I remember the first weekend I spend there after we moved in, the house it was pretty much a trip to hell.
One of those days I opened the door of my daughter Stephanie's room, after I came back from work, and her room had a cloud of smoke-a mix of cigarettes smoke and who knows what else-and all that was coming in from the basement of the house. I went down there and I put my foot down finishing the party that they had going on really quick. My nephew Kabir had a girlfriend and a friend living with him at the time. He had the downstairs and like he didn't work and liked to do drugs, he facilitated the house for people with drugs to have a place where to do them. Cars were in and out all day long, and there I realized that I should've never got involved in helping my sister to get a house, but it was already too late. Now Ginny have lost her peace of mind, and my daughter's health was compromised. After over a month of my sister being in Jail, she was released with the condition that she had to live the country on her own, and she had six months to do so. I thought what else could go wrong now? Well not even three months into this ordeal, we walk up to the sound of a loud knock on the door and we got served a search warrant, because my nephew Kabir has been caught stealing cars. In order for him to help my sister, and make some money on the side, he and his friend got in the business of stealing air-bags out of Honda cars. They stole the cars and dismantle the card on the detached car garage that the house had. The officer in charge of the raid said to me, "Don't worry you personally have nothing to worry about. We know that you are not involved in any of this. We have had this house under surveillance for a few months and we know you are not involved." I just couldn't believe it, but there was nothing I could do about it. They searched the house and found in the garage more than three spare tires from different cars, and a couple of radios. All of these objects came from different vehicles so they told us, "Every single one of this objects is prove that he has stolen a car, and for each stolen car there is a penalty of five years in prison. There have been many stolen cars being dumped all around this area."
That happened on the weekend and thanks that I had good credit, I was able to bail him out before immigration got to him. I bail him out because he was my family, and I went out of my way to help him out just because of that. I got him out of Jail before the immigration officers got to talk to him and ask for his papers, otherwise he could've been up for deportation, and who wants that to happen to someone of your family. To have that note on your records when you go back to your country, is not a good thing. I got him out and I asked him to change his ways, and of course he promised to change.
After that deal was over I asked him in a moment of sharing, in the middle of a man to man conversation that we had in the garage, that infamous garage, and I asked him, "What he was thinking or what he thought gave him the right to do something like that. Something so criminal and low as that?" I ask him to shear with me the truth, because if he was going to lie to me, I didn't want to hear it. He had the option to answer that question or not, and he answered, "I did it because my mom needed the help. She is going back to Chile and she needs money, and anyways everybody does it. Everybody steal." I said, "I don't. You know me. I work hard for my money." He said, "You don't but even those cops do. You have no idea what those cops do." He said, "Remember that time that a cop asked to look inside the apartment, because I was a suspect of using drugs, and the cop went to my room and find some stereos that I was fixing for my "Homies" I had even the amplifier you gave me for my birthday in my room, and the cop took all of them as evidence, and the cop never turned them in. Remember?" My nephew Kabir was right, actually the police officer who said pretty much he needed to search the house because Kabir was a suspect, indeed robbed us that day. The officer found a couple of radios and two very expensive amplifiers and on his way out of the apartment the officer said, "You can have them back if you have the receipts for any of this objects." and he left a business card and a case number with us. The following Monday I called to this number the cop gave us, and it was a police station, but they had no idea what I was talking about. They were asking for the police report, and the name of the officer, but the business car didn't have any information about the name of the officer, and the case number didn't exist. I even went to the police station personally to recover that expensive amplifier, because I saved the receipt of that amplifier, and a high end radio that I gave to my nephew Kabir for his birthday. At the end no police officer has turned in any evidence, and like always, nothing that they could do about it. Next! I had to turn around and realized that we were robbed by a police officer. I had to admit and accept that from that moment on, his impression of society and community was forever changed. I said to him, "Okay I'll give you that one, but not everybody is corrupt, and that doesn't give you the right for you to do the same or worse." He said, "All cops are corrupted in this town. You have no idea Uncle. One time not too long ago I had to beat one guy up. This guy had to do a very simple delivery, and this guy came back empty handed with no cash and no drugs. He said to my friend, "The cops set us up. They took the money and the drugs and they let me go. I swear, I swear." The guy was begging for his life, and he swear that the cops took everything. My friend believed the story, but we had to beat him up anyways, and after all that beating, he still didn't change the story not even one bit. Let me tell you something Uncle, you see one part of the city, but I know another part of town that you don't see Uncle." I said, "You know me Kabir. I live in a different world, and I do believe in God, so for me stealing is out of the books. What others do is not an excuse to act that same way. I wish you never do that again, and I wish that you start helping me with my work. I wish now that you know better, that you start helping your family in an honest way." "Okay Uncle." He said.
He was good for one week, and he was back to his old ways. After a few weeks he stopped helping me at work too. The only good thing was that at least, he was not back stealing cars, as far as we knew.
That was my first brush with the Police in this country, and it was not a bad experience for me. I was treated with respect, and even though if the only time I have ever been mugged in my life was by a police officer, I had in my personal view police officers on high regards.
That's how Ginny, Stephanie, and I went from living peacefully just the three of us on our little apartment to end up living through hell and very stressful times, and all thanks to my beloved sister Silvia.
Eventually my sister went back to Chile, and my nephew moved out with his friends, because the party time with me was over. After they left the three of us one more time slowly came back to life a more normal life.
This house that I never liked, mainly because the way I got there supposed to be my sister Silvia's house, and not mine. Like everything in the good side Stephanie's school was just a couple blocks away, and that was perfect because Ginny could not drive. On that house all of the sudden I went from paying six hundred and fifty dollars a month, to pay twelve hundred and fifty. I started paying almost double what I was paying for rent before, and the utilities of this thousand square feet rambler were way more expensive. I was working really hard just to keep up with the payments of this house.
Everything was going well, somehow I managed to pay the bills, and we were better than ever living arrangement that is. It was nice to have a house, and Stephanie had a doll house on the back yard, and I had a garage to save all my work stuff. One of the things I really liked was the fact that I didn't have to load and unload my tools out of the truck everyday because of fear to have them stolen. Things were okay but me and Ginny were going to very hard times, we were not doing well in the emotional part of our relationship, I should say the Spiritual side of our relationship. She was doing a bit better health wise, but not much. I had to cook for the both of them, and I didn't mind it because Stephanie was eating the food I cooked. At least she had one homemade meal a day. I knew that was great for her health, and what better present for her than a healthy life, so I didn't mind the cooking and taking care of every responsibility that comes with a house. Ginny for sure she was unable to take care of another child and I did wanted one, but there it was no way that I could put her through all that pain again or me going through an ordeal like that once again. On top of all that she was taking a medicine that could give birth-defects to a baby, so I was feeling uneasy about that too. In the other hand I thought that I was never going to have a child of my own. I didn't want to bring a child to this world knowing that I personally didn't like this world at all. In a way I was not sure of my mental sanity at all.
I was a man in his mid-thirties and I still believed in a living God that knows everything you do, and that at forty five I could get a call to serve God, and I had to be good, and I should not steal, not lie, not kill and work hard in order to be consider for the job. Many times in my life I didn't know what to do about myself, and I couldn't wait to be forty five years old, and have that idea in my mind done and over with. I used to think at times that maybe what happened to me it was nothing but a dream, but I was still loyal to my madness. That was my life at that time, not a bed of roses for sure, but we were okay.
My spiritual life at the time was nothing but confusion, struggle, and always in the middle of this fierce fight for survival. I was fighting hard just to not end up on the streets or end up homeless. We were just the three of us and there it was nobody for us to come and give us a hand.
Our relationship between Ginny and I got to the point after all those years where we were very distant from each other. At a point I lost all faith that Ginny will ever be well enough to have a child with me, and I lost faith that she could ever be well enough to appreciate what I was doing for our family. She always demanded from me everything, and never found anything good enough. I knew I was doing my best, and my best was not good enough to make her happy. Her bipolar disorder was getting the best of me, and if there was something I could not stand was when a person acts mean for no reason at all. Ginny had a lot of that, and the only reason I was staying in the relationship, was because of Stephanie. I knew if for any reason I left them, knowing the way Ginny was health wise at the time, Stephanie would've end up in the hands of child services, and that was the last thing I wanted for her. I wanted to be there by her side her whole life. I wanted to be there for her at least until she was eighteen years old.
At that time in my life I wasn't playing soccer anymore. Since Stephanie was borne, and I started to work on my own, I could not afford to have an injury, because I didn't have health insurance, so I started playing Chess. Playing chess on Friday nights or when I had free time in between jobs was all I did for fun, and that was all I could afford for fun too. A coffee and a pastry was five bucks, and I had hours of entertainment. Everybody loved to beat me up at Chess, but I had fun even if I lost. At the same time like Ginny didn't make much sense when she talked to me, and she was always so mean, it was good for me to be able to have a civilized conversation with the people that I played Chess with. It was a very good practice for my English-a language that I really liked and I always kept studying it. My English was getting better little by little but still was very limited, and still it was very hard for me to keep up with a fluid conversation. So here and there I started socializing with these Chess players, and soon Chess along with playing my guitar became my favorite hobbies. That was my life for a long while. Chess, guitar and taking care of Ginny and Stephanie, and like always, I was all by myself waiting for that day.
Over all I was getting a bit happier about everything, and life as well was getting a bit better. With the years I have become a General Contractor, and I was able to get enough work to keep me going and pay my bills. I even accomplished one of the dreams of my life, and that was having a bullet bike motorcycle. I got me a Honda F4i and it was a used one, but it looked really good, and it was new for me anyways. Loved motorcycles at the time, until I laid down my motorcycle on the Little Cottonwood canyon, and then that was the last bike I ever had.
You might think what could've go wrong now? Do you want to bet?
My Nephew Kabir got shot in the leg thigh. The shot was at close range, and the bullet shattered his left femur right in the middle. He had to have Titanium put on his leg in order to save it. The bone was broken in so many small pieces that they had no other option, but to ad in a six inches long piece of Titanium to compensate for the bone lost. "He was lucky" the doctor said. The shot was at close range, actually the gun was pushing down on his leg before the shot was fired. All the melted pieces of led, burnt powder, and flesh were cleaned very well, but he had some bone and muscle lost, in the area of the wound. Imagine a magic baseball going through the middle of your left thigh, and living a whole behind about that size. That's what the doctors had to fix in his leg, a whole of the size of a baseball.
In another moment of sincerity that my nephew and I had-about a year after the shooting-in the garage of the house, which I like to refer as, "That infamous Garage" the two of us had a talk. We had grown up together pretty much. My sister Silvia got divorce when he was just a baby, and since then my mom Mercedes took care of him. In a way he was my younger brother. Let me tell you that since he was little he has been a major pain.
At that moment in that infamous garage I asked him, "You know it. The truth only or don't even bother." My Nephew Kabir "El Cabezon"-Big headed. He had a big head but when he was real little, just like any other toddler. I am the only one that can call him "El Cabezon" and live to talk about it. He was raised on "The streets of the Hood" He grew up in what America has become. In all honesty the life for a teenager of today, especially a young male immigrant is a bitch here in America, they face a society with teens armed with guns to the tooth, bad education, corrupted institutions, predatory lending, and on top of all that very expensive higher education. So expensive that they cannot even put it in a bankruptcy. They face a world with no hope where the honest individual gets behind, and the criminal becomes the successful one. Friends of him have been shot, and he does not work a day for no one. He likes expensive stuff too, his mom supplies. Don't even bother asking me how a mother can do that to her son, but in the other hand his mom, my sister Silvia, she says, "He will not survive on his own. I have to help him. He is my son. I have thrown him on the streets many times and he beg me to come back untill I give up. He behaves well for a little bit, but then he does it again." That was my sister "Silvia's Story" However we had a talk about what happened and he said, "We were at a party, and I had recently arrived. I was seated in a chair drinking "My Chelita"-meaning drinking a beer-when this guy started showing a brand new gun he had bought. The gun was a luxury gun, a Silver and bone 45mm, and the guy was saying that he was the, "The Hit Man of the police force and that he was an undercover police officer. He said that he could shot anyone if he wanted, at anytime he wanted. On top of all that, the mofo was high on acid-the preferred drug of the cops, because after 24 hrs the drug disappear out of the system. I giggled because the comment was so out there that I just said "Amen", and took a gulp of my beer. We were "Just Chillin' it."-we were having fun, and relaxing-and the guy came over with the gun and put the gun right over my leg saying, "What? Do you think I'm talking shit?" And he thought I was going to get scared or something, but I said to the guy, "You better take that gun out of my leg or I'm going to show you what's up." And he shot me Uncle, right here." and he grabbed his leg with his two hands saying, "Oh it hurts to remember, it hurts! It was a hard hit like I never experience ever before in my whole life, and I remember the pain and the blood shooting out of my hands, and my leg, I tried to put it back together and it was just like a leg of a ragdoll. That is how it happened Bro' they say that the same crazy Mofo was the one responsible for a drive by shooting in the highway the year before. Yah here in Salt Lake, in the I 15 you remember it was on the news?" I said "Yes I do remember that shooting. It was all over the news. I remember."
Before the shooting he was a very fit man, excellent health, and now he has become a disable person, and no one gave him a penny for him to survive. Nobody cared that he had become a disable person, because he was an illegal. He was an illegal for that, but not illegal for giving his mom a loan for a house, a loan for a car, jobs and work as much as you want to, not to mention checking accounts, credit cards, for that no one is illegal. My nephew Kabir after he got shot, he went from friend to friend until he ran out of friends, and he had nowhere else to go. I was the only family he had, and he came back to live in my house.
Over the years when Stephanie was about six years old, we rented the basement to one of Ginny's best friends from childhood, and at the time she was married to a Mexican guy named Abel. At the time they have moved out of that basement for almost a year, and as far as we knew Abel have been deported. He was deported even if he had two kids with his American wife. Those two children that were born here in Salt Lake City, both 100% Americans had no father now. Have you ever tried to explain that to a child, "Your father is no longer here because he was sent far, far away, and not because he doesn't want to be here or because he doesn't love you." Makes no sense, but that is what happened. Abel was deported back to Mexico, and with no possibility of return or coming back ever again. He was deported for a crime, a felony crime.
Abel was not free of any guilt I have to admit. He had an underage girlfriend and that was the fact, but the details were pretty amazing. Abel told us his story, and that was, "The mother of the girl knew about us even before we started going out, because as a Mexican tradition, a guy must ask the parent permission to start dating a girl. So the mother of the girl knew about it, and she allowed it. The mother of the girl knew all along of this relationship." Then they had a child together, but as expected because of the difference of age, and the girl being very psycho and bipolar, Abel broke up with her. Everything was fine up to that moment until "The Girl" found out Abel had a new girlfriend, and they had a child together. As soon as "The Girl" and her mother learned about that, they accused Abel of rape. At the end Abel lost the case, and even if he was married to an American girl, and had two children he was deported, and with no possibility of ever coming back to the U.S.
You might ask "What this story had to do with you?" Let me explain:
That is what happened to Abel, and that was the last thing I ever knew about him ever again. Since that event Ginny's friend moved out of our basement, and Abel went to jail. She had no money and had to go to back to live with her mom. She had no other option, because she had two kids and Abel was the only support of the family.
In my opinion "Regardless being with a minor is rape, but all I can say about this situation, is that it does have one merit, and that good thing is: It was a non violent crime." That in my opinion is a fact that changes everything. As long there is no violence, you should expect civility and common sense to prevail. As far as I knew Abel was a hard working responsible individual, and he never missed a rent payment. Since Abel left my house, we can call it "since his disappearance" it has already passed more than a year.
Well one Thursday morning, May of 2004, about nine in the morning I was lying in bed with Ginny, and we heard a loud knock on the door. Ginny got up and went to see who it was knocking the door so loud. When she opened the door I heard a male voice saying, "It's Abel Davalos here!? Can we come in?" Ginny not knowing what to do, she said, "No. Wait here. I'll go and get my husband." She said that and she closed the door. I heard that and I heard to door being shut, then I sat on the edge of the bed, and I was not wearing any pajamas. As I see Ginny coming to get me, a guy wearing kakis and a shirt with rolled sleeves, long hair, skinny, and with a face of an asshole grabbed Ginny by the shoulder, and he pointed a gun at me. At that very moment I saw Ginny having a small petty seizure. There is a narrow hallway from the living room to our bedroom, and as he entered the hallway leading to my room, he grabbed Ginny firmly by her left shoulder and hold her still using her as a shield, while with his right arm he was holding the gun. As I was naked when I saw him and as a reflex, I grabbed the bedding fast to cover myself. As he saw me reaching for something he started shooting at me until he empty the magazine on me. I just felt the pain, the hit, the rush, my vision got blurry, and I was thinking what it was going to be of Ginny and Stephanie as I was fading away. At that moment the lights went out for me. Then I open my eyes and I was still in my bed with Ginny by my side getting ready to go to the bathroom asking me did you just have a nightmare or something? The shooting was nothing but a dream. I guess I had a dream where I felt as if I was being killed. To have a dream like that it sucks! Let me tell you.
I had a dream that was once again was, "Too real to be just a dream." I opened my eyes and Ginny was by my side just like she was before all that happened in the dream. And then a "déjà vu" moment, I saw Ginny by my side just like the moment before they knocked the door, and as I was saying to myself "Wtf" Knock, knock on the door as loud as in the dream, and Ginny said, "Don't worry I'll get it." There I was and nothing I could do about it, I was unable to change the events as they were happening, and she went to open the door. She opened the door, I heard a male voice saying, "It's Abel Davalos here!? Can we come on in?" Ginny not knowing what to do, she said "No. Wait here. I'll go and get my husband." She said that, and she closed the door on their noses. I heard it. Ginny might have seizures, but she knew what to do in case of an estranger trying to break in. At the moment I heard the door being shut. I sat on the edge of the bed, and as I was not wearing any clothing. I saw Ginny coming to get me when I saw a guy wearing kakis, and a close to yellow shirt with rolled sleeves. He was walking fast and grabbed Ginny by the shoulder, and point a gun at me as he enter the hallway. I saw Ginny having a small seizure attack-one of those called petty seizures-and this time instead of grabbing something to cover myself up, I put my hands up in the air, and they guy call me, "Abel. Are you Abel?" and I responded loud and clear, "No I am not! Who are you?" He responded, "I am a Home Land Secutity officer looking for Abel Davalos. We know he is here." I said back to him, "Nobody else is living here in my house! Why you broke into my house? Do you have a search warrant?" He responded, "No I don't" Then I responded even louder, "Then get the hell out of my house. If you don't have a search warrant get out of my house." With a lower and softer tone I said, "I will be right over." The guy was still pointing the gun at me, and holding Ginny by the shoulder. I could tell in his eyes, and his jaw clinching that he was pissed, and it took him a moment to react. As we were starring at each other I had hands on the air, and he had a gun pointing right at me. In my eyes he was surprised of himself and he was asking himself, "Why I haven't shoot this fucking spic yet?" But after a second that seemed like an eternity, the other guy that was with him said something to him that made him snap out of his rage. He reacted letting Ginny go, and he went outside. I put some clothes on, and I went outside as fast as I could. As I opened the door I saw no one, so I stick my head out the door, and there they were just like Charlie's Angels TV show. One guy squatting down balancing from side to side with his gun being hold by his two hands, and the other guy was standing up holding a gun with two hands right in front of his face. I asked them "Yes?" The very pissed off guy, still, he asked me one more time if I was Abel, and I responded one more time that I was not. He asked me, still holding a gun on his hand, "Can we look through you house to see if Abel is here?" At that moment I asked them who they were, and they said that they were Home Land Security officers, so I asked them, "Do you have any identification that can prove that?" They got even more pissed, and they showed me a piece of paper the size of a business card, had no plastic cover, and it was written in an old type-writer machine, at the same time at that moment I came to my senses, and instead of telling them to go "the hell away" I looked at the situation, and in one split second I thought "truth was, I was one unarmed guy against two armed men." Then I got scared. I had the feeling that I should not push it any further, because I had the eerie feeling that I have been killed that morning already once, and I should not push it. Was not much that I could do about it, so I let them in saying, "Do I have any choice?" They didn't even bother to answer me and stormed the house. After they checked the whole upstairs, and not even living a door un-open they asked me, "Do you have a basement?" I said "Yes I do have one." They said, "Let's see it!" and they went downstairs through the kitchen, and started searching the whole basement, but the pissed off guy, the one with the yellowish shirt and rolled sleeves, he was so pissed off to the point that his partner said again to him, "Let's go, there is nothing here." The guy with rolled sleeves and yellowish shirt insisted, and he kept looking just for the hell of it. I could tell, and on top of all that, "Mr. Super Agent," he missed the whole kitchen in the basement-a kitchen that I had built with the permits and everything. It was a beautiful full size kitchen in the basement and "Mr. Super Agent," that was looking through the house just like in the movies, pointing his gun in every direction, he missed a whole kitchen. As he was through and not finding not even a clue of somebody else but my family living there, on their way out going up the stairs, he asked me if they could check the Garage, at that moment my attitude changed, and I thought "Well I guess these are real agents otherwise I would've been death by now." So I said to myself, "These guys what they are doing is illegal. They are breaking the law. These are fucking pigs, racist criminals that have infiltrated the ranks of a government agency. What better than working for the police if you are a criminal? What could be better for a racist criminal than being working in any government agency, a place where they can even kill somebody just because, and the worse that can happened to them is getting fired, if they get reprimanded at all. I never thought to live the day where I witness so many violations of civil rights of here in the U.S. For me the U.S. was where the constitution was King, and racism was a thing of the past. I did get so pissed off, but I just kept my calm and said "No. You cannot! If you are truly Police Officers you know that what you have done already is unconstitutional, and you have violated my rights. Get out of my house, get out of my property!" As they were living the pissed off guy "Mr. Super Agent-SA." said "Who n' the fuck this fucking spic think he is?" As these SAs exited through the back door, and they started to leave, I opened the garage door, and from my driveway that exits the property, they were able to see that nobody was living in it. "Mr. Super Agent" though, he was not through, so he jumped the neighbors fence, and came over to take a closer look at the garage behind the fence, and I said to him, "I guess you have a search warrant to get on that property as well hah?" I left the garage open and I went inside the house asking Ginny, "Why you didn't lock the door after you closed it? It could've been a house invasion or something." She said, "Well I thought I did lock the door. I closed the door very hard though, and I got scared." and I said, "I guess we are lucky that we are still alive. Aren't we?" she said, "I guess so. Oh shit." And she had a bad seizure that day, a really bad one.
Next day was Friday and I went to work, but not really, because I had no work at that time, but I was lucking and waiting for somebody to call me from the add I had in the local news paper. To wait for a call was all I had to do that day. My life at the time was going okay, my self-esteem was high, and I loved the fact that even if we were not the perfect family Stephanie was growing up healthy and happy, and Ginny little by little she was making a comeback. I remember feeling in this country like finally I have found a nation, with the best democracy in the whole world. My blue days were over! So I thought at the time. I was doing so well emotionally that even all the stuff about God I thought, it was nothing but a dream and nothing else. I thought, "Maybe all that about God was because I was sad, and I was poor, alone, and working too much." Now it was different, I was slowly but surely getting ahead, one day at a time. I have never been ambitious to the point of doing whatever just to be rich, I just wanted to be able to support a family, live with dignity, and live in a place where I don't have to be worried about what I say, and who I talked too, because I was living in a country where there was real Freedom of Speech. I love to hear Americans expressing their point of view publicly and with no fear, I was happy to be a new American Citizen by then too. I have become an American Citizen for a few years then, and I truly thought I was endowed with at least my basic human rights. For the first time since childhood I was feeling safe in the place I was living. I was looking the Police, and the government entities as respectful servers of a community, a community that was giving back to them a good paying job, and all the tools necessary to reach their objective, and that was Serve and Protect with integrity. I was feeling happy and safe in this new place, a place I was starting to call home.
I was in that state of mind. I was happy from the inside, like I said, I have never been that ambitious, actually I wanted to live my life the way God wanted me to live my life, and so far I was making my living in an honest way, just like God asked me to do so. Never cheated no one and I always paid my taxes.
When I got home that Friday night, Ginny was waiting for me to tell me something very important. She has been calling me all day like always but I didn't answered her calls, because she still could not understand that she should not call me that much, and I was more than sick of her calling me all the time, and do to her seizures if she was not doing okay, I had to answer the phone like it or not, but that day was not one of those day, and she was doing just fine. Well when I got home that day she didn't let me go inside, because she started telling me what has happened that morning around 11 am, she said, "The same two guys came back after you left, and they opened the garage and searched it all over. I yell at them from the kitchen window saying to them, "Did you bring the Search Warrant this time?" And they replied, "We can search the garage because your garage is detached from the property. Technically is not your home." She asked me, "Could you believe that?" I didn't know what to make out that, and I just brush it off, saying to Ginny just to calm down. That night at dinner time we talked about it one more time, and I was appalled, but what could we do about it? Hired a lawyer? When we barely had money to eat, and pay the bills. There was nothing we could've done at all. Is hard to believe that a pair of officers could act that way, and especially when they are supposed to be held to higher standards. They should know all about the constitution better than anybody, they are supposed to be professionals of the law. We just got lucky, lucky us, lucky me. Anyhow nobody was hurt, and talking about hurt, my Nephew Kabir was living with us at the time, and my Mom Mercedes was living with me as well. My Mom Mercedes was the one that begged me to take back Kabir, because he was living in the streets, and he really has become a handicap person. Nobody wanted to help him, because even if he was a crime victim, witness and evidence of an armed crime, which is called Man Slaughter, attempt of murder, assault with a deathly weapon, and I don't know how many more crimes. Regardless of the situation no one else could give him a hand, because he had no papers. There is help for crime victims, but not for him, so because of that, he was back in the house sleeping in the living room couch.
This little brush with those corrupt officers it was hard to believe it, but even though I was still okay. Disappointed with the way they treated us, but oh well. I was still happy and optimistic, and I was living the dream. I could see light at the end of the tunnel, I still had hope and up to that point I was okay.
But who'd thunk it? Nothing could prepared me for what was about to happen. That same week Sunday was a quiet day. My mom Mercedes took Stephanie to Church, and me and Ginny slept in that day. it was a very good day. My mom Mercedes cooked the food, and like always her food was delicious, we all had a good time that day. Kabir was still walking with crutches, and he needed special shoes to correct his foot, but we didn't have the money, so I had to improvise and adjust regular shoes so he could have the right angle he needed to have in his foot. Now he was really a different person, and a total handicap. The police at the time had identified the suspect who shot him, and even if there was no financial compensation for my nephew, at least the criminal who shot him was going to be put behind bars. The only thing pending was the last testimony on court from my nephew Kabir, and the criminal was going to Jail. The last testimony on court was about to happen. My Nephew Kabir was just waiting for a letter in the mail. A letter saying the date he needed to go to court, and that letter could arrive at any moment. At the time I was the only support for the whole family, a family that at that moment was: Ginny, Stephanie, My Mom Mercedes, my Nephew Kabir, and I. All of them completely dependent on me, I was the only income in the house, and the only one that could drive.
That is how that Sunday ended, it ended as a very good family day, and I thank God for all those blessings, like I often do every time I have a normal day at least.
Monday morning I didn't have any work, but I was surviving out of my rainy day fund, and Ginny and I went to get a cup of Coffee to my favorite coffee place, the Coffee Garden. I went over there with the intention of getting me a game of Chess with my friend Mr. Joe Bankhead. Joe was a chess pal that called himself a Sillyosopher, and he was a very good painter. He truly was an artist, and a very good Chess player. As he often put it, "He has quit the Rat's Race," sold his printing business, bought a trailer, and he started traveling the west surviving just out of his Art. I loved to play Chess with him. His style of playing was so aggressive, and so entertaining that his enthusiasm for the game was contagious. His style of chess contained all the excitement, and passion that he lived his life with. For him Chess was life, and that morning Joe was at the coffee shop talking philosophy and politics with a friend of him, and he took the time to play a couple of games with me. A couple of five minutes games that like always ended up being way more than a couple games. This wonderful being that was so aware of his Spirituality, and in many ways so right about so many things-according to my understanding at the time-and I remember wanting to talk to him about this Spiritual points of view, but I couldn't because then "I wasn't a man yet, and I was not forty-five either, so I couldn't talk to people about the understanding that God had gave me. In all my beliefs I do remember to be at that time still faithful to my faith. At that moment I was so happy about my life. For the first time I was starting to feel at home in a very racist and harsh economy for me, especially if you happened to be an outsider. In this coffee place I have met people that looked at me not just like an idiot ready to be taken advantage of. They looked at me as a person, as equal, and they were making me feel back at home again. I was starting to enjoy life and like my friend Joe Bankhead once told me, "You have to love resistance. You will find that there is nothing worthwhile that is easy to get in this life, and resistance is what makes you appreciate what you have. Remember that Daniel." Playing Chess at that coffee shop, I met many very interesting people, and it was great to practice my English with them. I loved it. That Monday morning I remember being in the middle of a very fun game of Chess with Joe Bankhead with Ginny by my side when I received a call from my Mom Mercedes, and she was sobbing as she tried to explained me that I needed to come back home as soon as possible, because the police has return once again, and now they have arrested Kabir, and this time Kabir was doing nothing at all. He was just taking a shower, and they beat him up. She said, "Come over please hurry." When I received this call and I heard my mom crying like that, gave me the indication that something really bad was happening at my house, so ask my friend Joe to excuse me, and I left in a hurry. I got in the highway as fast as I could, and I was going from downtown to the 72nd South exit on the I-15. While going to my house as fast as I could I found nothing better to do than calling 911 to ask them if they had any idea of what was going on? I call them and asked them, "Do you have any record that there is a police search in my house going on right now? I have suspicions that something illegal is going on in my house. I had two guys breaking in my house on Thursday last week, then the next day. They searched my garage that is located behind the house, clearly located in private property, and now my mom at this moment, she is at the house and she called me very upset because these guys have come back again, and they bit my nephew up, and arrested him while he was taking a shower. My nephew is a handicap person. He needs crutches to walk, and my mom she is very scared. Do you have any idea of what is going on operator?" The operator said "Mr. Carpenter, I can't give you any details about an ongoing investigation if that is the case. What is your emergency?" I said, "My concern is that as far as a lawyer told me, "They already searched your house once, and didn't find anything illegal or criminal. So they can't search your house again." The 911 dispatcher said "Mr. Carpenter is best for you not to go to your house right now. If the police are involved you should stay away." I said, "That is the problem, that I don't think this people are real police officers, they had forced me to let them in my house once before with guns in hand. Then they searched my garage without not even asking, and this is the thrice time. They are not dressing or acting like real Police Officers, and I would love to know if this is another home invasion by the same crooks or I should have the peace of mind that my mom is not being kidnapped." After the name and address protocol the dispatcher asked me, "What are you wearing? I really thought that the 911 operator was pulling my leg at the time and I said, "What kind of question is that?" After the operator made me understand that this call was a very serious one, I gave the operator the description of what I was wearing, and Ginny's clothing description as well. Ginny that day she was wearing a dark t-shirt and short shorts. We were in driving a van, a Ford Aerostar that at the time was my personal vehicle, and my working van as well, and that van was an improvement from a white Mazda truck that I had bought for 300 hundred dollars. Well we were going back home as fast as we could without exceeding the speed limit more than five miles over of course, and the operator kept asking a whole bunch of questions and letting us know that we should stay away from our home. I even ask her at a point, "Are you giving me an order to stay away from my house or do I have the choice?" She said "It will be better if you stay away from your house." Anyhow very soon we were turning the corner that enters our block, and I could see two cars in my driveway blocking completely the drive way entrance to my house, four big SUVs parked in front, and one white big working Ford Van parked almost in a 45 degrees angle against the traffic. I saw at least 10 people, all around my house, fully armed with regular civilians clothing, no bullet proof best and a few police officers. I put the windows down and as I got to the front of my house, every single one of the officers was pointing their guns at us. At that very moment when I stopped in front of my house, a red little truck was coming in the opposite direction, and the guy had a dog in the vehicle on the passenger side. I still can see him driving the truck, and looking at my house while driving. He was not looking at the road, only his dog was. The white van parked against the traffic was blocking most of that side of the street, and I was stopped still on the road right in front of my house waiting for them to move one of the cars so I can park in the drive way, but this guy was too busy looking at what was going on in my house, that when finally he looked forward and saw my van, he panicked and slammed the brakes. I was stopped on my side of the road and the car steered right into my van, because at the same time he saw the white van against the traffic blocking pretty much the whole side of the street. He stopped very quickly, but not without hitting me. He barely touch the front corner of the driver side, but he was still going about five miles an hour. Right when I was looking how all this was happening in first row, I was surrounded by armed people on all sides. Everything happened so quick that the only thing I remember was that I had my hands over the steering wheel, exactly where they can see them at all times-good thing I come from a police state where you gotta know this things in order to survive-and these guys closed in on me and quick. They looked very pissed, especially after the guy on the red truck crossed the center yellow line and hit my Van. When they got to me, after they opened the door, and my hands were still in the steering wheel, they asked me yelling out loud, "Put your hands up, both of you!" Grabbed me from behind my t-shirt and threw me to the floor. They slammed me unto the floor, and put their knee on my neck right on the back of my head, and whoever was he was moving his knee to the sides trying to cause as much pain as he could, with all his strength while saying, "Do not resist arrest." Even if the pain inflicted by his knee was harsh, I didn't move a muscle-in a police state you know that they are looking for excuses to kill you-so I lain down and sucked it all in as if my life depended on it. As I was motionless with my head pin between the hot asphalt of the road, and a knee piercing painfully on my neck I heard, "Next time you fucking spic, know who you are dealing with!" and it followed some gun hammerings, but no shots were fired. They had two guns pointed at the back of my head-I could feel the barrels strongly held against my skull, and they triggered the hammers. I heard them. The one with the knee on my neck, he hammered his gun twice. I don't know what really happened there, but I know the sound of a safety unlocking a gun, and these clicks were not safeties coming out, they were shots not being fired. After I heard a few "WTFs" and some, "Fucking spic! They handcuffed me and pull me up. I could see across the other side were Ginny was and two males officers were holding Ginny up, they were putting handcuffs on her as well. No woman was present on the peloton of assholes that I was facing that day, and as they made sure that I could see Ginny. The two officers started searching her, clearly touching her breasts, and one breast for each one of the officers, and one side of her vagina for each one of them. They clearly put their fingers on my wife's vagina that day. As I was witnessing that I heard a voice from behind telling me, "Hey Mr. Carpenter. Next time you encounter some "white" officers you better have some respect." I shout as he was walking away, "What is this? A personal vendetta? What you are doing is not legal!" I was going to finish my sentence with, "You are not an officer you are a criminal!" but I was interrupted with a sudden slammed into the side of the wrongly parked white van by two officers, one on each side holding me by my arms, and a third one made sure my handcuffs were really tight. He grabbed my hand and twisted my wrist against the sharp edge of the handcuff to the point that he made me screamed. I screamed in pain saying, "You are hurting me, ahhh!!" After a couple seconds of being out of breath they let me go, and opened the badly parked white van and threw me inside with force. For my surprise my nephew Kabir was already inside the van and in handcuffs as well. I said to him, "Could you believe this shit?" and he said, "They are not going to let one of them go to Jail for shooting a spic like me. You Know?" When he said that tears were coming out of my eyes, because of the pain on my wrist, and I said to him, "I think they broke my wrist." He said, "This Mother fuckers are crazy man. I told you Uncle."
I didn't believe my Nephew all that much, you know? I had my doubts about the bad comments about the police. I thought the police in the United State of America was a Lawful abiding institution, an honorable institution, but I found out the hard way, what they really are.
They asked for my papers. They took me inside my house and demanded to show them my papers, so they did with Ginny. I remember Ginny saying, "Why are you asking me for my papers. I am white!" and the old bloody bastard that has been in my house for the third time, he said to her, "I am asking you for your papers, because your last name is Ortiz-that was my last name at the time-and they took her almost in the air inside the house saying to her, "You better show us some ID." After I showed them my papers, on the way out back to the van, an officer stopped me-he must've been the sheriff of Midvale Police or something, I don't know, but it looked and acted like somebody with a higher rank. He approached me and said, "Why you just didn't wait until this was over?" I said to him, "I have reasons to believe that this is motivated by racism more than anything else, and what have done is criminal. This is the third time they are here searching my house." He answered "Mr. Carpenter this is a legal action. This is the Police of Midvale and the Home Land Security officers." I asked him, "Where is the Search Warrant?" He asked to bring the Search Warrant so he could show it to me, and they brought the search warrant and he said, "Here is Mr. Carpenter. Here is the search warrant order." I looked at it and the first things I checked were my name and Address, and I saw that the Search warrant was for a different city. The search warrant had the search warrant to be served in the City of South Jordan, and I told the officer, and he said, "Still is the same number of the street." I asked, "Do you have an Arrest Warrant for my Nephew as well?" And he just turned away saying, "Your out of order Mr. Carpenter. Read him his rights." I asked, "And I'm being arrested for what reason?" Nothing by silence, and right there they read me the Miranda rights, and put me back inside the white van that now was parked the right way, because the police of Midvale was filling an Accident report. An accident report that they made me sign saying that the accident was my fault, not the distracted driver, I was the one at fault, and the one who crossed the center yellow line, and hit my van almost head on the red Mazda truck, later I found out that he was driving with a suspended driver license, but still the accident was my fault. He was white and I was the Mexican.
They had the audacity to tell me that I was lucky that they didn't arrest my Mother, because they knew she had no papers, and they could deport her if they wanted to, so I better start having some humility and respect.
That Monday was May 17th Saint Patrick's day, and all the Home Land Security Officers they looked and acted as if they just came out of a bar. They were there that day to celebrate the holyday with a little show. Some of them looked like high on steroids, completely red and all their muscles pumped up, it was weird to say the list.
They took us to the Home Land Security building and put us in different Jail Cells. They put me in a big dirty and smelly Jail cell, full of dirty empty bags of food, dirty napkins, and pieces of toilet paper scattered all over the floor. After a couple of hours of being detained and still with hand cuffs on, their infamous agent-the SSA-the same that missed the whole kitchen of my basement, when he searched my house, he came over and with a face full of stupidity, he looked at me straight in the eyes, and told me that an officer will give me a ride back home. They gave me my shoelaces and my belt and took my handcuffs off, and gave me a ride back home. They give me a business card with a name and a phone number, the name on the card is a name I could never forget. The name of that idiot too stupid to have other but hate in his mind, his name is Robert Cantoo. Like his card said Robert Cantoo. Home of the criminals of the Land Security Officer.
I still don't know even to this day why my house got searched, and why my Nephew Kabir was taken prisoner, and never released again. Six months went by before they deport him back to Chile. Six months in Jail for what? He told me that he has been transported in a train wagon, and all of them had to stand up. Those train wagons had no bathroom either, so they had to go where they stand. Imagine a trip here in the U.S. where there is no restroom and no seats. Is that even legal? Here in the U.S.? Unbeliavable!
This is what happened to us here in the U.S. That's why I say, "I live in terror here in the United States of America a place where personally I am nothing but a Modern Time Slave. I know I have no rights, and there is no justice for me, no closure and no nothing. Here in the United States or in my country my place is the same. I am just a smooch and on top of all that, a naïve idiot that believed that there is such a thing as "Humans Rights, Freedom, and Justice for All, and a thing called nation or a republic." For me these words have not much meaning at all, because in all reality I have never been a Citizen. That paper that says that I am a Citizen of the United States of America is nothing but a piece of paper, just like the Constitution of the United States of America, nothing but a piece of paper. After that incident, my diploma of citizenship for me is nothing but a piece of paper with an empty promise. It sounds way better the word American Citizen, than voluntarily Slave, and as long as I become a slave peacefully, and do what I am suppose to do, it's all okay. As long as I work, work, and work, and if I had some extra free time, I should work some more, then it's all okay. Don't ever ask about overtime pay or benefits, or the safety conditions required to execute the task, just do it, get it done, and it all will be just fine. Don't ask for a decent retirement either when we are through with you.
From that moment on, all the progress I had made in my personal life, it all went to hell. I was so devastated, and it was so hard for me to realize that the same rotten system that was in place back in my country, was exactly the same form me, even here in the U.S. Here in the U.S. or back in my country, those on top have a very good life, and they don't work a day in their whole life, but people like me, they give their backs to their country, and they ended up with a pension of misery guaranteed for sure. No social contract, no sense of justice, no sense of Rule of the Law at all.
All those dreams I had in my life, they died that day. That was the time when I gave up on the idea of working for God as well. One more time I was having thoughts of wanting to die, but this time I wanted retaliation first. On the other hand, my beliefs stopped me from doing something that stupid. In my mind I was going back and forth in between those thoughts. I know I am capable of killing, I am a mammal. I know I can kill, and especially pieces of shit like those criminals that invaded my house, but at the same time, I was certain that I was still in God's home, and I would never retaliate, but it was hard to stop thinking about it. For years I couldn't stop thinking on how here in America this could be happening, how can it be? How come that a country having so much wealth and power have to resource to exploitation and slavery to keep their standard of living? How come that in a country so advanced they had racist mafias in charge of security? How? How could they let that happen, and even here inside of their own home land, and even doing it to their own people? For me that was preposterous!
As far as God told me, "I should not Judge. I should hide, and never show my spiritual colors. I should just keep going until I become a man, a man of at least forty-years of age before I could even pronounce his name." I knew that I didn't want to live anymore, at least not that kind of life. To live the life of a slave was for me more that I could handle, but that was my reality, and I had to live with it.
After years of fighting these thoughts in my mind, at a moment I even gave up on God. I remember years after that happened I made a webpage. I built a webpage on my own with some literature about God, but it was not good at all. I knew at that time that for sure was not the time, but I wanted to say to God, "Look if that is what you wanted me to say to these people? I said it! There it is." I even remember passing out little pieces of paper to people that was coming out of the Mormon temple with the address of my webpage. I did that on South Temple Street in front of the temple, with my daughter Stephanie by my side. That was about the year 2007, and of course, nobody gave a darn about it. I guess I just passed as just another crazy spic on the streets. I was being "Just another nut job, with some lose screws in his head." I did that because I thought I was going to leave this country for good, and because I had it. I was giving up on the dream of ever speaking in God's name. I guess at that time I completely lost my faith.
I never had the real chance of leaving the state of Utah, and leaving the State never came to pass. I have tried to leave the State of Utah many times, but I could not. I guess God wants Utah to be the place. I guess "This is the place." Salt Lake City is the city, like it or not.
After that harsh experience, I was not doing well in every aspect of my life, and I went through really hard times. Emotionally and financially, really hard times to the point that I feared to ended up in the streets. That was about the time when I started my divorce with Ginny, because I felt as well that waiting for the miracle of Ginny getting better was a waste of time.
Short after in 2008 the Mortgage Markets collapsed, and I was still being the only support of the household, and even if I have been already divorced from Ginny for more than a year at the time, I was still taking care of them, and my Mom Mercedes was still living with me, but I was hanging by a thread, and I had already filed my bankruptcy.
Due to the markets crash I couldn't get any jobs at all, and I had no other option but to send my mom Mercedes back to Chile. I had to do that because I didn't have enough money to keep her here with me, even if that was all wanted, and prayed for. At the same time my mom's depressions got really bad. All those things together became too much for me to handle. At that moment in my life I realized that I had limits in my spirit as well. Once when I was exploited in Miami I realized that I had physical limitations, and now I was starting to realize that emotionally I had my limits too. I went through hard times after the market crushed in 2008, hard times like you couldn't believe it. I thought at a moment in my life that all that negativity was gone forever and I thought that as an American Citizen I would never have to be worried about having a plate of food on my table or a roof over my head. Man was I wrong? Again.
My mom Mercedes does not handle well extreme hard times. At the same time for the first time she was completely in pain and with good reasons. For her was double hard having to go through a recession like the one that started on 2008, because around that same time, my sister Belinda had recently told her, that was better for her to stay with me, because she was not part of her family anymore. All of the sudden my mom Mercedes had to cope with the reality that my sister Belinda didn't want my mom living with her anymore. My mom Mercedes thought that she was going to die on my sister Belinda's arms, and now her beloved daughter, after she lost her house due to predatory lending, and because she was going through such a hard times, she could not take care of her anymore. Having my mom with her was as well too much to handle. Now my mom Mercedes if she wanted to visit my sister's family, she had to call her first. My mom Mercedes told me, "I feel like I am back in Chile. For the first time in this country I am afraid of losing my Children for good in hands of Police officers, and I see misery all around. What a catastrophe son of mine. I thought those times were behind us. I thought we left them behind back in Chile, and I thought that as long I was here in this blessed land, nothing of this kind would ever happen again." And she cried out loud with so much pain that was hard to watch. She as well as me, we both wanted to die again.
I have become to understand that after all those years, I have not been a perfect person, and I had sincerely tried to make things work the best I could, but they didn't work. Ginny in all reality was better in the hands of the SSI and Medicare, than with a self-employed spic that can barely speak the language. On top of all that if I would've kept my mom with me, she could ended up on the streets, because at that time I fall behind on my house payments, and there it was no way I could save my house, unless, they refinance my house under a special program available at that time, and that would've been my financial bell out, but knowing that white American people were losing their houses by the millions, and many had no other option but to move back with their parents, my chances to qualified for that program were next to zero. It was for me live counting on my dad Luis to pay for my education. All these things were harsh realities that I had to deal with, and I asked myself, "How poor I am, that a woman is better off alone in the hands of the State than with me?"
For me to divorced Ginny was breaking up with my daughter Stephanie as well. My dear and beloved daughter. Those times were hard, really hard for me. That situation brought back memories of when I lost my daddy Oscar, then my son Sebastian, and now I was about to live the same thing again. I was spiritually broken at that time in my life. I was down, and I tried to survive, and the only thing I was asking was, not to end up out in the streets with my mom or Ginny and Stephanie.
Moving on, because I divorced Ginny, she had qualified for subsidized rent, and after two years of dealing with the bureaucracy of the State of Utah and the SSI after we divorced, she finally was able to move out of the house. They gave her and old bit up apartment, and Ginny and Stephanie they finally moved out. The apartment was old but it was a roof over their head for sure. I kept visiting Stephanie after they moved out, and I was still taking Ginny to where ever she needed to go, especially to her doctor's appointments. Regardless I was keeping an eye on them. They didn't move too far from the house, they move just a few blocks away, and because she divorced me, she got to have health insurance again, both of them. With that Ginny started seeing a doctor once again, and because of her health insurance she qualified for better medicines.
By that time when Ginny moved on her own with Stephanie, my mom Mercedes was already back in Chile. That brings me back to that moment when I had to send her back to Chile. I remember that with the greatest pain in my heart, I had to say good bye to her, and I have to say that I was lucky to come up with the money to buy her an airplane ticket. When I send her back to Chile for fear to end up on the streets, I was breaking a promise I made to her. When my sister Belinda told her that she was not going to live with her ever again, and that she could visit her only, and that she had to call her before she went to her house, I said to her, "Mother of mine. You know my heart, and as long as I have a house my house is your house. You can come and go as you please, and as long as you want to be with me, I'll be happy to have you with me. For me is a privilege to have you by mi side." That was my promise to her and I don't lie, and what I said I meant it, but anyways I had to send her back to Chile, due to the bad situation I was going through. When I said good bye at the airport to her, I said to her, "As soon as I have a home again, and the dust of these hard times settled, I will bring you back."
After my mom left and Ginny with Stephanie moved out, I was all by myself waiting for the house to be taken away by the bank. I was waiting for that moment so I can finally let go and move on with my life. Now I was in a big house all by myself, just waiting for them to kick me out. I thought I was going to be out my house at the most in six months, but it has been over a year and I was still dealing and willing with the bank, waiting for a definitive answer.
Around that time Ginny started seeing a new doctor at the University of Utah Hospital. Doctor Afra is her name, and she decided to put Ginny on this brand new medicine. After lots of tests doctor Afra gave Ginny a medicine called Vimpat, and when she started taking this medicine a miracle of science happened. Ginny went from having about two or three seizures a week to just one seizure a week, then one seizure a Month, and she slowly but surely started to be the Ginny once I met long time ago. I could finally see improvements and that brought hope that Ginny could be normal once again.
Even if we were divorced and living our lives independently from each other, we still could seat at the table and eat a meal together. Like Americans say, "No hard feelings. Things just didn't work out between us. When I met you I had good intentions, and now that we are apart I still have nothing but good wishes for you." I love that way of thinking! Sometimes things don't work out as we wish they did.
Life went stable for a little while, my mom Mercedes was back in Chile, and Ginny was doing better than ever. My Li'l-Stephanie-has turned into a happy, but troubled teenager. No news there though, but overall she was okay. She was going to a public school in a republican controlled state, so before she got to her class room, she has to say not to alcohol, then to marijuana, to methamphetamines, cigarettes, and then she got to go to listen to the teachers telling her that they are free to do whatever they want to, because this is a free country, and no one can tell them what to do, and nobody can put a hand on them. That is what she was taught in school. In a republican controlled state all the kids are doing great! And like they are not required by law to tell the parents what's going on in school, no child is on drugs or getting drunk or making out in the hallways, and if a teacher sees something they know that if they want to keep their jobs, they better look the other way or else. At least my daughter didn't get gang raped in school I have to give them that.
As the economy started to recover from the Mortgage crisis of 2008 I started to work on my own again, and out of pure luck I found a good job. On that job I worked my rear end off, and when I was done with it, the first thing I did, was to go to Chile to visit my moms. I went to visit my mom Nieves and my mom Mercedes and precisely in that same order, just because the flight arrives in Santiago, and the closest city for me to visit is La Serena where my mom Nieves and my brother Fernando lives, and then I go up north to the city of Arica where my mom Mercedes, and my son Sebastian lives.
That time when I stopped in La Serena and visit my mom Nieves, I knew that probably that was going to be the last time I ever saw her again, because at that time my mom Nieves was about ninety-two-years old, so I stayed there as much as I could, and I visited her as much as I could. Then when I travelled north to the city of Arica to visit my mom Mercedes, and while I was there, I built for her a beautiful bathroom with my own bare hands. That was a way for me to say I'm sorry to her for sending her back to Chile.
Even if my reality didn't allow me to have her here in the U.S. with me, at least I knew that I have helped her to move back into her house. That house of her has been rented for many years while she was here in the U.S., and it was a disaster when she took it back. Thanks in my books to God, I was able to fix her house, and built for her a brand new kitchen and a beautiful bathroom, so her house was in okay conditions for her to live in. I was glad that God gave me the opportunity to do that. That house is a modest little townhouse, so close to one another that you could even heard the neighbors whispering. Just kidding, but you get the idea.
That trip was such a good trip, because while I was there in Arica with my mom Mercedes I was able to spend time with my son Sebastian as well. We never talked too much over the phone or over the internet, but when we were together was just like a pair of friends that haven't seen each other in a long time. For me the bond once brought us together was still there. On that trip I learned that my son Sebastian could play the base guitar and really good, so I asked him to give me some guitar lessons, and that way we spent really good times together. I was so proud of him, and on that trip a dream was born for me. I dreamed of being able to play a song together with my son Sebastian. I wanted to have an unforgettable moment with him talking the music language. On that trip to Chile trying to play along with him, I realized how much musically gifted he was, and how much I sucked at music too. Even after all this years, actually since I was thirteen, I played the guitar on and off, a little here and a little there, but I still couldn't play the guitar well enough to play along with him. I wanted so bad to be able to play along with him a song we picked it up together, but I was unable to play it all the way through. It was a song that I really liked from the moment I first heard it, and it was a song that my son really liked from the band Blink 182, a song called: What's my age again? I couldn't play the entire song but at least we tried, and we had fun anyways jamming along together.
I remember trying so hard to learn it before I had to come back to the U.S., but my time was limited, and I was unable to learn the tune in time to play it together with my son. Since that moment I made myself the promise that one day, we will play that song together, and one day that moment will come to pass. So after I came back to the U.S. every day I got in that "Infamous garage" after work, and I started playing whatever music was on my guitar, didn't matter, but I had to play the guitar for a half an hour minimum. Playing the guitar at least half an hour a day, became my new religion.
On that garage practicing playing the guitar I dedicated a song to God, a song that was born from my heart, and at the time I didn't know even if the song was okay in the musical sense, because back then I was still tone deaf. The name of that son is "Come and talk to me my Lord again."
Many years has passed from the time I thought God talked to me, and I don't say I talked to him, because he did all the talking. That's why I say, "God talked to me and this is what God told me." I never heard that voice ever again, and that song was written because since then, I really miss that time when I thought I heard God's voice, and I believed I saw him too, and regardless of what it was, it has been nice to live a life convinced that "the dream" was more than just a dream. That dream brought nothing but good things to my life, and I felt in such good incredible way that sometimes I missed the company, and the comfort of that voice, I miss to be close that presence of whatever that was. Just like the voice told me, "You can walk in peace from now on, because from now on you have nothing to fear. You now know that above all, you are in my house, and your spirit here in my house is protected. Nothing will really ever happen to you. Your body may tell your spirit that bad things are happening, but nothing is really happening to your spirit, unless I allowed it. Relax my child, you are in my house, and I'll see you at your forty-fifth birthday, in a place you soon will know. You at forty-five-years old will be a five years old spirit for me, so don't bother me any more until then. I am busy. Bye dimwit." That garage for me was sacred land.
The economy at the time was really bad still. We barely avoid another Great Depression, and what saved me from being on the streets at that time, was a job at a calling center. I worked for a year and a half answering the phone receiving complaints, and refilling medicine prescriptions for retired people. It was nothing but a sweat shop, but if you wanted to keep the job, you better work hard and fast. Sometimes they made us work so hard that they skipped the fifteen minutes brake at ten in the morning. Working on that place I could see how much the corruption of the health system was at the time, and working for this "guys" I learned about the doughnut hole, the tiers on medications, and such. All this very complicated rules that nobody understood, but the result was easy to see. All those rules were nothing but a scam. What an experience! Many times I had tears in my eyes after hearing an old retired person saying, "Now I have to choose between buying my medicine that keeps me alive or paying for my groceries." The complaints we received there were by the thousands, and every single day the same story over and over. Like I said what an experience that was, but that job gave me enough to survive.
Going back to the nightmare of dealing with criminals called Banks, even if I qualified for an especial refinance program, they didn't refinance me. At a point they even told me, "You have been approved for the program, but I just got scammed out two thousand dollars out of my pocked, because they never followed through on their promise. They told me that I have been approved, and the only thing I had to do, was to make my three first payments on time, and that was it. They told me, "You can even give us the checks now, and we will cash them at the right time so you don't risk the chance to be late." I gave them the three checks, and after the second payment I was still waiting for my new payments stubs. I call them and they told me, "They are on the way. Don't you worry. You will receive them any time now." Like they didn't arrived in the mail, after the third month I call them again, and asked them, "What happened? I need to make forth payment, and by now I should have the documents with my approval. They told me, "We haven't sent you the final papers because you didn't pay the last of the three payments on time. We got the last payment a week over the past due date." To make the long story short, I lost the house to foreclosure in a dubious foreclosure along with millions of other Americans in the same situation. Millions of Americans got scammed by the banks as we find out in this gigantic Class Action Law Suit, that in all reality they were nothing but a little spank on the wrist to all the Financial Institutions involved in one of the greatest Mortgage Scams, ever in the History of the United States of America, and the world, and nobody went to jail. That is the new way that corporations are make business here in America, and in order to that, you need to have the judicial system on your pocket. For me there is the big question about American Democracy today. Remember that in the Holocaust, every crime committed at that time, wan not illegal, everything done in the Holocaust was all legal at the time.
During the time I was alone in that house instead of making parties before that house was taken away, like some of my friends suggested me, I considered my place as a sacred place, because in my house God could spend the night there at any moment. On that time alone in my home, I had fun trying to play the guitar, and I was able to be loud on the basement of that house. That was a great thing for me to do, along with playing chess, and like always, I kept studying English. Working at that calling center it was a great way for me to practice my English as well, and I really liked that.
At that time in my life I was forty-three-years old, and I thought I was never going to have a baby of my own, and I truly believed that. Once God told me, "I asked you if you were willing to sacrifice your son for me, because if you go back in history you will find that many who have taken my name, many of them have died in a horrible ways. You know now that my will is that every human being dies from old age, but now you know that I cannot intervene as much as I would like to, and all because of Free Will. I follow life as well, and there are some laws that apply to all living things including me. Life and I are two different things, but still one and the same, as you and me, two different things, but still one and the same." I know God was talking about my spiritual son, and God was there when my spiritual son was born, but at the same time to be honest with you, for that same reason, I have doubts of my mental sanity, and having a child at the time was still something very iffy for me. Because I used to think: What about if I go really crazy and I lose my marbles once again, and with a child by my side on top of all that? That was my big question, and the other one was, Ginny for sure couldn't have a child. I would never put her through something like that again, something like all what she went through when she got pregnant with Stephanie. No way. At a point on my life I thought that if I ever hat a child of my own it was going to be with someone else besides Ginny, and to be honest with you, I met a girl once, and I felt that she could be the one I could have a child with, but she broke up with me. So with that in mind, I really thought I was never going to have a biological child. But there was a big but on this one. Ginny after we divorced she got her Medicare back, and she started to see a new doctor at the University of Utah-doctor Afra. Her new doctor-and she started giving her a new medicine called Vimpat, as she started to get better and better in one of Ginny's checkups, doctor Afra told us, "Even if the medicine is new, at least we know for a fact that none of the chemicals used to make this drug, is potentially dangerous for the development of a fetus." When the doctor told us that Ginny looked straight at me, and we looked at each other like saying "Really?" but that was it. Well as the time went by and Ginny started making a remarkable progress, little by little I got to see in her that miracle that I've been waiting to happen all this time. Ginny finally started acting and being as well as she was doing when I met her, with the only difference that now I was speaking an okay English. That for me it was amazing, after all this time we finally got to go in a date again for the first time in a way, because now she was doing okay, and I was speaking English a okay, so it was like to meet whole new different person. She started to remember all the things we've been through, well not all of them, but key moments of our lives, and we started to get closer to each other one more time. Sometimes like she was still a bit bipolar, sometimes she was normal, but sometimes she was a little too nice to me, and like I do love her very much, when that happened, most of the times I couldn't resist her advances.
In one of those days while I was working at that calling center we went on a date and she asked me, "Do you still love me?" I said "You know it. I will always love you." And then she asked, "Then why don't you have a baby with me?" I stood steal in one piece. I was in disbelieved of what I was hearing, because after all she went through with Stephanie, she still had the balls to say that to me. She said, "You know I do love you, and if this medicine is working okay why not. You always wanted to have a baby, so why not?" So in a way I thought, "Who is chicken out right now hah?" I asked her, "Are you sure?" and she didn't even hesitate, not even a bit. She said, "Yes I am sure. I know you always wanted to have a baby, and now with this new medicine we could have one if you want to."
With that in mind, and being a guy over forty I thought, "Why don't you quit thinking about it. Don't over think it. Don't you would've love to have a child with her when you met her? You are not a teenager anymore, is not like a child is going to cramp your style right?" then I heard in my mind, "Chicken, chicken…" With that in mind I asked her that same question many times over, and her answer was always the same. So like I am no chicken pock, pock one of those days we gave it a try.
A month after that, she told me to buy a pregnancy test, and it came back positive. Unbelievable! But true. And that is how she got pregnant. That happened in 2010 and remembering the Spiritual rule of the ten numbers where ten it means that after the number eight-the highest state that a human spirit can reach. The only way to reach a higher level of existence is with the consent of the Father and Son's, so eight plus two is ten, and ten is when you reach a higher Plateau. What a coincidence that in 2010 just by mere coincidence she got pregnant, and my life definitely reached a higher Plateau, but that is how it happened. Ginny got pregnant on 2010 and Nieves was born on May of 2011. Nieves was born on Friday the 13th May of 2011. Unbelievable! Nieves loves Halloween.
After Nieves was born, life was more than okay for me. Ginny's pregnancy was for everybody's surprise a real good one, and she had no problems what so ever during the whole pregnancy. After her pregnancy I noticed that something on her has changed radically. Since I met her there was always a shadow of sorrow over her spirit, and now after all those years, for the first time, I saw her smiling from the bottom of her heart. Because of that shadow of sorrow on her spirit, and because at a point I lost faith on her getting better ever again, because of that, I really liked to listen to the song by R.E.M Losing My Religion. How many times I thought that my love was going to make her happy, and I thought that I heard her laughing, and how many times I wish I hear her sing.
To learn how to play that song on my guitar became a challenge for me, and every time I listen to it, that song for some reason brought comfort to my soul. My favorite lines of the song are, "I thought that I heard you laughing, I thought that I heard you sing. Losing my religion-that for me meant at the time losing my faith."
After Nieves was born for the first time I heard Ginny laugh from the heart and for the first time I heard her singing. Unbelievable! Before that I only wish.
Why I named her Nieves? That is obvious, but let me tell you a little story. When I heard the news that Ginny was pregnant, I talked to my mom Mercedes about it, and when I told her that Ginny was pregnant, do you know what she said to me? She said, "What a horrible disgrace." That is what she said to me, "Que desgracia mas grande." An all honesty it was harsh to hear that from her, but that is what my mom Mercedes said. I talked many times with my mom Mercedes about Ginny's health, and how her pregnancy was doing and stuff, and of course we talked about what name I was going to give her, and she said to me, "Son please don't name her after me. I have suffered so much that giving her my name it will be like giving her a bad omen as a name. Please don't." Any ways at that time I didn't know if my child was going to be a boy or a girl, but having that in mind, I wrote a letter to my mom Nieves and I told her the news. She was super happy about the news and I told her, "My dear mom Nieves, I am going to name my child after you, if my child is a girl, and there is no doubt that if my child is a boy his name is going to be Oscar." My mom Nieves really happy about that, and she appreciated the fact that in a way, I was saying thanks to her for taking care of me when I was little, and at the same time, for me it was a way to show my mom Nieves that I really loved her. That is why I named my daughter after my mom Nieves. (To you my dear mom Nieves, remember that I will always remember you. You will always be in my heart, and I will remember you for all eternity.)














Close to a year after Nieves was born in my forty-five birthday I was exactly where God told me to be, and at exactly the time he wanted me to be. I went to Antelope Island and I hiked all the way to where that hill was. When I got there this pointy hill didn't look like a pyramid at all, but at the bottom of it I grabbed my water and I got ready to bless that place. Just like God taught me I was there at sunset time, with my back facing the Son, and with my arms wide open as far as I could I started blessing the land where I was standing. Praying from the heart I said to God, "Here I'm my Lord, and I can say to you to the best of my knowledge, that I have walked the path as you told me to do so. Here I am by faith and love to you my Lord, waiting for your command, ready to serve you, and ready to follow you until the last breath of my body. My Heavenly Father I thank you for your blessings, and by the love I have for you now and always, I'm asking you with a humbled heart to bless this land. Thank you."
I went to that hill on Antelope Island, and I did as God commanded me long ago when I was twenty-eight-years old, except for one thing, by then I should've had a book with his message on it, but even if I tried many times before I could not do that. At my forty-fifth birthday I was there, but nothing happened. I didn't hear no voice, no lightning, and no nothing. The only thing special that day was what happened later on when I looked to the sky, because I haven't realized that the Moon at Sunset time were just above my head along with Jupiter and Venus making a beautiful elongated triangle in the ski, a triangle at a very familiar angle for me, a triangle that has to do a lot with my formula of energy, but that was it.
After I was done with the ritual of blessing the place, and waiting for something to happen for a while, I realized that where I was standing, was the favorite place to sleep for two Bison. What I coincidence that God told me twenty years ago, "In this land I roam as a Buffalo." I didn't see the actual Bison, but right there at the bottom of that hill, there were two Bison nests on the ground, two of them, as in the old story of the Father and the Son. Nothing but a coincidence though, but there I was at my fifth spiritual birthday as a man ready to serve. I was ready to serve God, because I had walked the path as he told me to do so. At that moment when I went to that Island I had no debt whatsoever, I didn't owed a penny to no one; I had committed no crime; I have paid my taxes without cheating, and as far as I knew, even if I was not a certified Master Carpenter, I was a certified General Contractor, and I was a hell of a good Carpenter at least. But nothing happened.
I was very disappointed in a way, but I had faith that if something that important didn't happened yet, it was for a reason, and the only thing that came to my mind was, "Four. The right message, at the right time, for the right reason, to the right people. Four." And it kept coming back to my mind the part when I was playing pool with General MacArthur and General Patton, and they were saying to me, "Timing is everything! It must be at the right time."
For some reason I felt that at forty-five was not the time to speak about God. I felt that I should take it easy, and accept as well that maybe God didn't want me to speak in his name after all. I was confused I have to admit, but I one thing became clear to me at that time, I needed to have the time to put the message in writing first, because for sure at that moment, I had only a vague idea of what I needed to say, and through the years, I have discovered how difficult it is to write anything in English.

After my forty-fifth birthday it became clear to me that I should put in writing the message first, even if it was not all of it, but the main idea must be in writing first. I needed to put in writing what I was going to talk about, and what I was going to say in the name of God before I released it publicly, and before I release it I should ask for God's Blessing first. It became clear to me that I had to ask for God's blessing at a place that God will designate at the right time. Up to that moment I thought that I was going to have The Story of The Father and The Son ready, but I couldn't find the time, and I couldn't write English well enough to write something that complicated. I was very disappointed in a way, but I had faith that if something that important didn't happened yet, it was for a reason, and the only thing that came to my mind was, "Four. The right message, at the right time, for the right reason, to the right people. Four." And it kept coming back to my mind the part when I was playing pool with General MacArthur and General Patton, and they were saying to me, "Timing is everything! It must be at the right time."
After my disappointment at my date with God on my forty-fifth birthday, I kept working and taking care of Ginny and Stephanie the best I could, and time went by okay and a couple more years went by. I was working hard to saving money so I could have the time to write God's message, because I started getting through the Random numbers clues that the time was coming. I worked really hard for a while to save some money, and finally everything came out just right so I took some time off to start writing the message.
Having saved some money I started writing God's message, and I worked relentlessly for six month, and after six month I was baffled, because after all that time I had written pretty much nothing at all. I thought it was going to be a piece a cake, because the message was all in my mind, but man was I wrong. After those six Months I realized that I needed at least another year at least to write what I needed to write. And you know how much, I really don't like to write, but there I was for six month writing the first draft of my book, and let me tell you that it was a wreck. But I wrote that draft, and by hand. If you ask my family if they can picture me, writing for eight hours a day for six months straight, they will laugh at you, and hard.
So I went back to work, and I don't know how, but I kept finding good jobs, and I saved every penny a made so I could keep writing.
At that moment through the numbers I realized that now it was the time for show. I thought at a time that Obama was the president that was going to be in power when I released my book, but nope, he was not the one.
After I wrote that draft by hand I felt like before I committed all my efforts to finish writing the book, I needed to go and say good bye to my moms and my son Sebastian, because after I released my book, I could not leave the country for at least two years, and during that time I will be serving my mission in the name of the Living God, and no matter what happened, during that time I will not be able to leave the country, even if my mother died. For some reason beyond my comprehension I could not leave the U.S. while serving my mission so I decided to go one last time to Chile. To be honest with you like I was writing my book I wasn't sure if I could leave this country at the time or not, but I really wanted to say good bye to all my family and friends, and that is what I did. Not to mention the fact that in my personal effort to speak in God's name things could go radically wrong.
I went to Chile to visit my family, and especially to see my mom Nieves that at the time she was over ninety four years old now. I considered myself lucky to see my mom Nieves last time I went to Chile, so this time to have the opportunity to see her again it was a real blessing for me. At a point a believed that maybe I was never going to see her again, but I had the blessing of seeing her one more time, and spend more than a few times with her again.
On that trip to Chile something really profound happened in my life, it was almost like the day when a blind man got to see for the first time. When I got to La Serena I stayed at my Brother Fernando's home, and he has a lot of canaries. The big cage with all the canaries was outside in the patio right in front of the window of the room where I slept that night. What woke up early the next morning was the singing of these canaries, and I can tell you that for the first time in my life I heard something with my musical ear. For the first time I heard that the chirpings of the canaries were all in harmony with each other. I could tell in a way that they were chirping in the same musical key, and that was so weird and incredible for me, I could tell clearly the change from high to low or low to a higher note, and all the notes were in harmony. That was amazing for me. First time ever!
After a couple of weeks of spending as much time as possible with my brother Fernando and my mom Nieves, I travelled north to Arica-Vice where my mom Mercedes and my son Sebastian live.
When I got there that was one of the stories that I told my mom Mercedes and to my son Sebastian, the story of hearing for the first time with my musical ear. I was so impressed by the experience that I could not help talking about it. When I got to the City of Arica, the city where I grew up since I was nine and a half years old, until I came to America-Arica the city of the Eternal Spring. On that same city, and that same beach where I spend so many great times another dream came through. My son asked me, "Now that you can hear musically, can you play on the guitar the song we tried to play last time you came over, and you couldn't?" I said to him, "Yes I can!" and we went to his place got the guitars and we went to the edge of the ocean and played the song, "What's my age again." My son Sebastian sang the song in English, and Veronica was there too. It was such a nice moment, a moment that I knew I'll forever treasure in my memories. For me it was amazing! For me to play for the first time a whole song with another person, it was for sure a dream come true, and on top of all that, I was playing it with my beloved son Sebastian. What a moment! My son Sebastian was singing and playing the acoustic base, and I was playing a metal string acoustic guitar, and we nailed it. Unbelievable!
I know from the moment I believed in "The Dream" and in that "Voice" That I was completely insane, in a very good insane way, but still mental and sad but social, I know, but listen, this is true as well, because regardless, there are too many coincidences, so many of them to the point that they form a pattern easy for me to see.
On that trip to Chile I had another encounter with God, a very quiet one, but God was there with me one more time. I know because he took over me a few times during that trip, and for me that was amazing. To feel his spirit again close to me, after all that time, really was amazing for me.
For the first time in my life I felt in my own country as a complete outsider, and it was sad for me to see how hard life is for so many. On top of all that on that trip I found out that my mom Mercedes has been laying to me about the situation of her house in Chile. Her house long ago was transferred to my sister Silvia, and my mom Mercedes said to me that she had no idea how that happened, and then when she found out, it was already too late. Either or she was at least holding from me some information about it, because she never told me. I had to hire a lawyer to find out. Actually Veronica by then was already working as a Lawyer. She still didn't have her license, but she helped me to find out the situation about the house. Knowing that I was in my sister Silvia's house I moved to a Hotel room, because definitely I didn't want to stay in my Sister's house. One more time in a way I felt betrayed by my own mother and that was hard to deal with for me. I know I love my mom dearly, and I know she loves me, but in what way? How can you love somebody and stab him on the back at the same time? Anyhow on that sense the trip was a disaster, but on the other hand I had fun visiting and playing the guitar with my son Sebastian. A sweet and sour time for sure and when you feel like killing somebody, like I felt towards my sister Silvia, nothing works better than my favorite medicine. Marijuana medicine? Yes! Marijuana is the plant where we come from. Eating it or inhaling it makes us interact with our spiritual essence. Let me tell you that after the time when the police cracked my wrist and finger-raped Ginny in front of me, no other medicine worked for me better than pot. I tried Diazepam, Prozac, Zoloft etc… but none of them work better than Marijuana, and how ludicrous that pot is what God prescribed me long ago. You can find it everywhere, but is still illegal. Is like a bad joke you know. Both countries are free and democratic nations, but you can't burn that grass-a grass that have been along humans even before humans became humans. Ludicrous but oh well.
Veronica and I still good friends, and as friends we have a ritual practice, when we see each other, we have to smoke a joint together. That ritual has become a tradition between us, when see each other we smoke the peace pipe. That custom comes from the time where we first met in La Serena.
Short true story: We went to the beach to smoke a joint and we thought that nobody could see us under a beach umbrella on the beach close to a nice restaurant. We thought on that spot nobody could see us, but soon we realized that we were totally wrong. What happened is that the lights from the restaurant blind us, and we couldn't see any better. Later on, seated at the restaurant we order a couple of drinks and we looked back at the beach umbrella, and for our surprise from that restaurant you could very clear what was going on under that umbrella, good thing we were not making out.
Personally I like to take one good puff and that's it, and I don't smoke it again after two hours at least. For me smoking it more than twice a day, I consider that abusing a substance. It is embarrassing to live in a "Developed Country" and be treated like a criminal for burning grass, and we all know that tobacco and alcohol are way worse, way worse. What a hypocrisy. That is the Republican way to deal with profitable crimes, they make it illegal, so nobody else try to profit from that. That is their solution, and if the crime is already illegal by law, then the only solution is just like the solution for mass shootings, they take a minute of silence, and keep saying no to every possible real solution.
Whatever let's go back to the subject of this book God. After we smoked under an umbrella on the beach we were looking at the beach, listening to the sound of the waves braking down on the coastline, seated in the hood of a car enjoying the moment Veronica asked me, "Long time no see so how are you? How are you in your heart?" Because as you know me, I like to shear instead of talking, and she knows that, so as friends I always say, "The truth and nothing but the truth, or shut the F up!" I responded, "Like always. Believing that I don't live here on Earth, I live on a place where God exist, and I don't care if everybody else think otherwise, but that is who I am. I am part of the Universe, and at this moment I am very aggravated with what's going on in the world, but like always believing in God, the Living God, and still my faith is strong." I asked her, "What about you Veronica?" She said "You know my position about God, and it has not changed not even one bit." I said back to her, "Well lately I have been blessed with a daughter of my own as you know, and for the first time in her life I am away from her, and I didn't know how much I was going to miss her. She is not even a year old still, and I left her alone to come over here, because there is a very important reason for that, and involve Sebastian, in my books her brother. You know I love him very much, and I still look at him with the same eyes as always. I came over here mainly because now he is an adult, and I want to know who he has become as a person. That's why I want to spend as much time as possible with him, and without pushing it either.
One time he asked me for a base and I brought him a base, and look how well he can play it now. I am very proud of him, and the last time I was here, he asked me for an engine with wheels, and that's why I'm here because I want to buy him a car. Now that he is graduating from college, I want to be close to him, and wish him the best for his future. At the same time I know for a fact that this time, it will be a long time before I ever come back again, if, I ever come back." We talked for a while, and then we went to eat something to that restaurant that I was talking about. And like always, between us, no hard feelings, and we had a great time that night.
Next day I remember going to the same spot on the beach, the place right in front of my house, in Arica where I grew up as a teen, and I realized that on that same place I got to live the end of my childhood, then my all my teenager years, until pretty much I become twenty five years old, because at that age is when I left that city to become to America. Now I was back in that city on that same road that leads to beach from my house, thinking about the same subject I thought many times before on that road. I was walking and thinking about God on my way to that beach. There I realized that my musical ear woke up for the first time in my life, remember? I was tone deaf, and I realized on that trip that pretty much my whole life, since I was twenty-seven-years old until now, I have been faithful to that dream, and I have lived the life of a hard working modern time slave in the U.S. but that way I was able to make my living in an honest way. At the same time I thought, "What a fallacy!" Here in the U.S. I have worked with my hands, and have given to the U.S. in all reality all I ever had, because at the time being over forty-five I realized that the only thing I ever had-my back-I had given my back already to the U.S., and all because I wanted to became a Master Carpenter, and because God wanted me to do so, and to dedicate my life to God was what I ever wanted to do. I thought, "What a dream. What a dreamer." In my beliefs God once told me, "Be one of those who get something done. And if you want to ever apply for the job of talking in my name, you better take the last chair, and as a child in spirit, be part of the working class." God said to me, "Live in essence the life of a bug. Do your do's first building a nation, and then wonder your life away, but first do your do's." I was walking towards the beach to that place where I have spend so many good times, Summer after Summer as a teenager, and I was walking the same road one more time, with the only difference that now I was way older, and I have lived a life following the path to God, a path that has been set long time ago, by those who have followed this living creature before me, and they followed God by faith, they followed God with their hearts, and God talked to them, and God talked to me. As far as I knew, I had no proof that God ever existed or that God ever talked to me, but in my heart, I have been following this creature called God, a very elusive living thing, for a very long time, and my faith in God was still strong, even after all I've seen.
I said to myself while I was walking towards that piece of Pacific Ocean where I grew up, and I thought, "How I wish I could say to my Son Sebastian, why I have been so far away from him all these years." But I was not supposed to talk about God, not yet. But if it was true that I love him like a son, why not tell him about God? In my madness I was still faithful to the will of that voice, and I thought, "Since the moment I literally went crazy when I was twenty-seven-years old, and I heard that voice, since then up to this point, I have never heard that voice again. I have never had an episode of complete madness like that time, ever again." I was thinking of that when something very special related to God happened at that moment, I felt God getting closer to me one more time. In my madness God got close to me, very close, close in Spirit and I started acting a bit weird. Again I could sense where North was, that is how I knew something was up, and as far as my faith goes God made me made do some weird rituals.
At a few moments on that trip I felt like God took complete possession of my will, and more than a few times, and I can tell when god I taken North on my spirit because I can see blurs of how God sees the people, and God can see their spirits, and their sins are hanging on their neck just like a necklace.
One of those days my Son Sebastian came over to give me another music lesson and the topic was rhythms. He came that day with his acoustic base, and he started playing for me one of his melodies. At that very moment while my Son was playing I felt God taking over me, and in my mind I saw God touching the Spirit of a Condor flying high in the Andes. As I saw that in my mind I started dancing along my son's rhythm, and I really felt like I was being one with a Condor and we both were dancing in mid air. I was there dancing bare foot in front of my son, dancing to the rhythm of his melody, and my spirit was dancing high up in the Andes mountains. I even got to take my T-shirt off, and use it as an element of the dance. It was a moment like in the movie of Kevin Costner, Dancing with Wolves, when he dances by himself in front of a big fire, and he expresses himself in an all out spiritual kind of moment. That moment that lasted for more than fifteen minutes made me sweat, and made me realized how full of life, life is. It was a moment that I felt like there was a connection between Sebastian and me, and God, and the Condor. For me at that moment I felt the strength of our bond, a bond that has grown old but still strong.
In another moment that I remember I felt like God took over me, it was a time at that same spot in front of my house by the ocean, outside of the hotel where I was staying, I did a very ridiculous thing. I started acting like a very good Chilean Soldier, singing and whistling the National Anthem of Chile, and I walked from the road along the ocean up to the very edge of the ocean. At that moment my friend Martin was walking along with Silvia and he said to me joking, "Why don't you walk into the ocean, and over the water? From the moment he said that I started really acting like a marching soldier and I knew at that moment that God has taken North in my spirit again and I started to march towards the water, and right before entering the waters I threw some Karate punches to the air, and I hit the sand really hard to the point that water got displaced around a yard around my foot, and at the very last moment before my feet catch the water I stopped, and then I walked back a bit, and I heard the Voice again commanding to the Pacific Ocean, "From this point you do not cross." I saw myself doing a mark on the beach sand, and a big wave crush on the beach. Close to the ocean and especially at night, you can feel when a big wave crushes on the beach because the whole beach rumbles. I saw the wave coming at me fast, and I thought I was going to get wet, but the big wave little by little dissipated, and the very last tip of it, came to touch the edge of the mark I had made in the sand. Then I heard a different voice, a voice being the spirit of the ocean, and I heard it saying "Understood. I will not pass that mark." After that I reunite with my friend Martin that was laughing off my ridiculous behavior, and he said, "I thought you were going to walk over the water? I said, "Next time." and I got really embarrassed but there was nothing I could do about it. I thought, "Man now I'm going completely crazy, and if they caught me here as a crazy person, I will never see my daughter again. I almost panic, but then again, a memory came to my mind about that time when I living those forty days, "If it comes from the living God you have nothing to fear." Indeed nothing bad happened, but I was worried about they, putting me in the happy house, and never see my daughter ever again.
I have one souvenir of all my children, from Sebastian I have a pencil holder that he made it for me in a Father's Day, when he was going to school in Hialeah, from my daughter Stephanie I have her favorite stuff animal, and that was a Winnie the Pooh, and for Nieves I had with me a sock that she was wearing the day she was born. That sock was with me in Chile at that time, and she was the continuous reminder that I should not have doubts about my faith.
That weird behavior I blamed it one more time on cannabis, but I knew by faith that something was going on. I couldn't figure it out at the time what it was, and on my way back to the U.S. it was hard to observed the reality of who I was in my country, and how little the people has changed in their minds. Like they saw me acting a bit weird, I don't know how, but even the people at the airport gave me grief. I bought at the airport a pin made out solid metal, and I took it with me through the "Metal detection doors." But the doors were just to comply with the rules but they didn't work, but I'm sure that they charge to the tax payers millions for if. At the airport they even mumble through the speakers something close to English, I guess to see if I could understand English or something, but after three times they finally said in English that my flight was about to departure, they could've say it in Spanish but no, they had to say it only in English. Then when we were in mid air the Captain of the airplane said through the speakers that they were about to land in Peru, and it was in English and I laughed out loud, that was the only thing odd I did during the flight, and then when we finally land in the city of Iquique, the Captain ask me to leave the airplane because of my erratic behavior. So without not even a complaint I said, "If you think so, and you are asking me leave your plain, I will get out." I asked him to ratify his request and he did, so I grabbed my stuff and I got out of the airplane. How to explain that? I don't know, and still, even to this day it baffles me every time I think about it. In my country the fascist are a clan of ignorant with a very peculiar sense of humor. They can be raping you, or execution you but they are still joking about it, just like the main character in the magazine Condorito. They are still very Catholics, and rooted to the many taboos. It was sad for me to see my country so poor, well the regular people that is, the majority of the people, but not those on top, those on top were, "Fatter than Ever." Sad, it was sad, to see my country like that, very sad indeed. I knew at the time that was going to be a very long time before I ever went back to Chile again, if ever, and I knew that I had an appointment with God, but nobody should know, and that's how it was. I knew at the time that I was ready to serve God in any way he wanted me, and to serve God you have to walk the walk, and be ready to give your life at any given moment. You have to be honest, and never break the law. Those who truly serve God, they are above any law of the land, because they not even lie, they don't steal, they don't kill. I knew then that I was about to serve God, and I had to be ready to live my wife, and kids, and the land if it was needed, all of that in order to serve God, and I was ready. Another very important rule to serve God is not to have any debt, very important, and I was ready.
That time I went to Chile I really felt in Arica that God got closer to me one more time, but at the same time, I thought that in all reality I was nothing but going crazy again. I don't know why but logic and the heart are two different things, and you follow God with your heart.
In all honesty I could not see any reason why God would do something like that to me. Why to tell the Pacific Ocean to not to cross that line. I was baffled by my behavior, but then again, I had fun in Arica, lots of fun and nobody was hurt. I came back to the U.S. a bit embarrassed, but still in one piece, and I got to see again my little Nieves again, and I was in time to be with her in her first birthday, alright!
After a few months of being here in the U.S. writing my book I heard in the news something that brought my faith back, and made me understand why I acted that way so strange back in Chile. Another coincidence and nothing but that, but definitely it gave a boost to my faith. In my faith I was able to understand that God in an act of love for me, because if there was a tsunami in Arica, most likely my mom Mercedes house would've been one of the first ones to be completely destroyed, and that would've put me in a very difficult position, most like because I was going in the middle of serving my mission to God, and because of that I couldn't live the U.S. Even just in the case that I had to send money only, how I was going to survive while I was writing God's message.
Like I said after a few months of being back in the U.S. on April 1st of 2014 there was a massive earth quake in Chile, an earthquake of Historical proportions, a magnitude-8,2 Earthquake and Tsunami. If a tsunami happened in Arica I could've have not been able to write this book or at least I would've been in the middle of a very hard decision to make, and that prerogative would've been or help my mom or finish this book. Knowing the facts about this 8.2 Gigantic Quake, and by the location where it happened, it should've been a tsunami in the City of Arica, and Iquique, but there was no tsunami. The epicenter of this earthquake was reported near to the city of Iquique only 50 miles away deep in the ocean floor. It was more than a close call, my mom had to comply with mandatory evacuation, and stay away from her house for four days, actually they stayed with a friend of my sister for a couple of weeks before they felt okay to go back. No tsunami though and again nothing but a coincidence but then again. My mom's house is located just a block and a half away from the open Pacific Ocean. She had to run and take cover up in the hills. My Mom Mercedes in 2014 was 86 years old and for her, to be out of her house for that long, it was really hard. Thanks God.
In my believes God has told me not to go back to Chile until I was done with my mission, and the book must be released on July 04th of 2016, and must say, released on July 04th 3016. Why? Do not ask me why, I am just following instructions. Instructions that I will do anything on my power to execute them as God wants me to do and say, but remember if it does come from God, there is nothing to fear. I will do anything as long is legal in the land where I stand, so help me God. "If it does really come from God, you have nothing to fear." Nothing wrong is supposed to happen, if it does come from God prepare for "Truth" some may not like the truth, but the truth is that the hard facts that surrounds any City or any Nation, the rates of crime and things like that. These statistics are paramount in importance for a democracy, for any democracy. This data reveals the effects and results of the policies enforced by law, and like always you need to measure from the bottom up to find out the real state of a democracy, and that is part of my job, to find out if America does have a democracy or not, like I said "Mental and Sad but Social. MSS."
At the time this happened I was already involved in writing this book, and part of the message is the number "Four" so I have to serve for four years, and in my books I have to serve until July of 2018.
To serve my religious mission I need to have the meanings to survive with dignity while I serve God, and everything was coming along just fine, and for me to make it this far writing this Bible, and I say this Bible, because you are getting closer to read what I have to say in the name of God, and you will understand what a Bible really is or at least what a Bible it should be. At list you will get to see my explanation of what a Bible is, so far if you make it this far, you are reading a Bible. A Bible means a Sacred Spiritual Book dedicated to the Living God, the only God that there is. This book is primarily spiritual, but it needs to be base on something real. Like the relationship between your body and your spirit. In order for you to have a spirit your body has to be real, your body is the only thing real, but you know that there is something else in it, and that is what this Bible talks about it, don't forget that the Living God touches every single life out there including yours.
I am serving the Living God, and to be able to do that I have to look at people as God does, and God see Humans as people, God does not see color nor gender, God only sees Spirits, Spirits made at his spiritual Image and God is "IT" Not her or him, to make a difference in God's house about any physical appearance is an insult of great diminishing. There is a reason for the word God, it means a Superior Being, and that is what God is, a superior being and it doesn't matter God's appearance, because you need to understand that "There is not a such a thing as appearance, in the Spiritual world appearance, and gender don't mean much. More important is to know who you are in Spirit, and like I said, "Spirit over Matter" always. As God told me, "Your Spirit is born and dies in my hands."
God told me, "From a Rock to an intelligent creature is a long road, longer than what the scientist think the age of the universe is. Way longer." God said, "Do you remember the image of you lying down as a fish that could barely walk, and you were almost dying, actually you were physically dead, but you were still hanging in there, and that happened to you because you went too far from the water, and you could not get back, because you run out of air remember? That was you in one of your lives, it didn't exactly happened like that, but is one of your memories, and that memory, I God show it to you, but it has been translated so you can understand it. It has been translated from my language to yours, and it is difficult, very difficult to do that, no wonder why so many get me wrong. Spiritually at the end is the same, and I put you back in the water, and in that life you died from old age. You were right, it was me God the one that gave you your life back, and that was long, long ago. That is how is kept on your Spirit it is kept as The Story of the Father and the Son. That day I made a little change on you, and I gave you lungs so you could stay longer on land, but what really called my attention besides you making the transition, was the fact that you should've have been dead long ago, but you were still hanging on me God, you didn't want to let go, and your spirit was right, you have seen me before, many times before, you knew me, and I do know you too. Now you know that eternity does exist and it is possible, and humans have become to the point where they have doubled one more time the time they used to live, they have reached a new plateau. That is the first thing I want you to tell them, "They have reached a new plateau." And that changes everything." "At the same time I want you to tell them that this time my foot is down and Judgment Day has already begun. By the time you are writing this book for sure Judgment Day will have started at least a few years ago, from the moment you know is time." Like God said "You'll know when you know."
"About forty days and forty nights before July 04th of 2016 you will start writing the message, that message that I want you to deliver to the People of The United States of America straight up, and it is up to them if they listen to you or not, even if they grant you immunity or not to really speak in my name, is up to them. Your job is to deliver the message to them, what they do with it, is not your problem."
Will see, if the White People vote for Trump or they vote for Hillary. What counts in this election is what The White people vote for, more than who the candidates are, what is important is what they stand for.
The question I have to deliver to the American people is a very simple one:
Are You with God or Not? Because if you are not with God you are against God.

In a lighter note, "If you wore to replace the whole Universe with music, and there it was nothing but music in this Universe, God will be the rhythm."