Divided Loyalties (Serialized Novel in 2 Parts - 12 Chapters Each)

Prologue & Chapter 1 The Recurring Porch Dream

Pedro's earliest memories revolved around chickens, friends, family, salsa music and dogs, not necessarily in that order. His warmest memory pictured him waking up as his mother swung him out of the 'pareo' she used to carry him close to her breast. Right after she laid him on the floor, the dogs would start licking him as he looked up from his spot on the slated hardwood under the corrugated covered porch. He tried to stop the tongues lapping his nose, mouth, cheeks, and eyes, but his hands always failed to curtail the loving assailants. The dogs tired of him. He heard giggles coming from beside him and turned his head towards the noise as three other bundles his size got their share of the dogs' affections.

Without warning, feet stomped all around him. Calypso and salsa thumped through him from a ghetto blaster on the floor near the wall. He heard his mother's laughter. He felt at peace. A large part of his well being came from the closeness of his family, but the sweet smell of the child closest to him, Ophelia, wormed its way under his skin in an unexplainable way. As often happened, his reverie was interrupted by a frightening 'toc, toc, toc' sound approaching him. It grew to monstrous proportions. For Pedro, the sound grew louder even than the pulsing music and the churning flush of water rushing from the wringer washer that was the weekly excuse to bring all of them together on the porch. Somehow his mother always managed to shoo the rooster and chickens away before they pecked on him. Then he could get back to savoring Ophelia's aroma accentuated by a hint of cinnamon oil that her mother rubbed into her skin daily to combat her minor but annoying skin infections.

Chapter 1 The Recurring Porch Dream

Pedro slept through the clammy sweat on his neck and chest that accompanied his prescient nightmares, though his eyeballs batted around like goldfish in a bag on their way to a new home. His breathing calmed and his right foot found its way out from under his favorite cotton sheet. The ball of his foot tested the water; a tic on cheek opened the left side of his mouth in time with his rolling eyeballs. His other foot touched the floor as he popped up. The white trim on his red Costa Rican football jersey and shorts hanging freshly pressed on the door of his room reflected the moonlight coming in through a skylight. Sweat glistened on his spare frame. He found his balance and shuffled his feet over the wood-slat floor. Sniffing at the earthy smelling dampness penetrating through the wide cracks between boards, it was as if Pedro was led by the nose.

A splinter drew blood, but he pushed on, oblivious. He crossed the main room without bumping anything. Somnambulant, he opened the screen door, all shoulders, and forehead. He paused, sniffing at the air above his grandfather asleep on a wide shelf opposite a seasonal wood-burning stove in the family's outdoor kitchen. As the boy passed the head through the door above the older man's bed, Eduardo snored three staccato bursts. The sixteen-year-old halted, moved a bit more, and the door slipped from his shoulder. It creaked and snapped shut behind him.

Eduardo crossed himself, relieved once again he had set the spring on the door to slam. Pedro started walking again. His frame cast a moving shadow in the moonlight that followed the contours of the older man's repose, signaling the start of the nightly tango between the two of them.

Tito, Eduardo's black and tan bloodhound, raised its head and lumbered up. His stiff hips kept him in a sitting position at his habitual nocturnal spot halfway under Eduardo's bed.

Eduardo touched the dog's ear and spoke under his breath.

"Down Tito," said Eduardo.

The dog lay back with a 'harrumph', glad of his master's permission to go back to sleep.

"Good boy."

Keeping one sleepy eye on Pedro's progress across the yard, Eduardo took a second to scratch his old friend's floppy greying ears. The dog sniffed in Pedro's directions as though he sensed it was time for Eduardo to follow. The boy had turned the corner around the barn. Tito became agitated, shifted and stared through cloudy eyes. His gaze traced a line between Eduardo and the last place Pedro walked. The dog huffed, about to bark.