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

Chapter 3 - Life's Complicated

Pedro woke up to a hollow echo of his grandfather's voice as it filtered into his dream reality. "A bird speaking, a bird speaking like Grandpa," he muttered. The voice melded with the nightmare, a troubling vision that had persisted despite Pedro's waking up and drinking warm milk and honey prepared by his Grandpa. A confusing kaleidoscope of animals superimposed with the faces of people close to him. One rankled. Tossing his head back and forth, arms extended, he pushed off his cover, squeezed his lids together and buried his nose in his armpit. His acrid odor stirred him awake. His hands rubbed the clammy perspiration around his neck, but he dared not open his eyes for fear that the birds with his grandfather's face would still be flying around him.

Birds in the house, bad. It can't be. Someone shook his shoulder. "Grandpa?" His Grandpa's voice settled him down. It wasn't the birds speaking. He opened his eyes.

"You were babbling again, besides, it's time to get up."

Eduardo ruffled Pedro's hair.

"You're all wet," he said.

"Grandpa, the dream came back. Your face—"

"Enough of that."

"But your face was flying around on a bird and talking to me, Grandpa, in the house. It's no good for birds to be in the house. Even you know what that means."

"Yep, it means someone left the window open too wide in your dream."

"Grandpa."

Eduardo's chest deflated. He made his way to the outdoor kitchen, talking all the way. Pedro followed. The screen door snapped closed.

"Don't forget our family's tamales for the last-day lunch at school. Your teacher's expecting them and you forgot to bring them yesterday. They're out back of the house in the earth fridge."

Pedro sat at the table.

"Grandpa, talking birds with your face flying around in the house."

"Pedro, enough. Don't get comfortable. Go out and get the tamales before you put on your clean clothes.

Pedro got up from the table, left the covered area and stepped off of the wooden slats. He stooped down and removed a heavy rock, then a circular wooden cover from over a four-foot deep hole that was lined with flat rock. He lay on the sandy gravel and reached in and was able to reach to the bottom of the pit. The tamales lay at the bottom of the pit. He put the newsprint-wrapped treats to his nose and savored the mouth-watering aroma of his favorite snack food. In his mind's eye, the salted meat mixed with tomatoes and kernels of corn floated around behind his closed eyelids, but the images from the nightmare haunted him.

His leather satchel clunked off the end of the slats.

"Put 'em in there, so as you Don't forget again," said Eduardo

Pedro got up on his knees, reached to open the satchel and edged the treats in. A snug fit.

"C' mon. Your clothes are hanging up by your door. Get a move on."

Pedro dressed in his Costa Rica soccer team shorts and sweater.

"Here's a bun with honey. Eat it on the way and no dawdling."

Carrying only the tamales in his bag over one shoulder, Pedro ran down the dirt road n front of their home under Eduardo's watchful eyes. By the bottom of the hill, life had erased the bad dream and swapped it with thoughts of Ophelia. I hope I am behind her when she comes out of the bush by her home.

He turned a corner and saw her just up ahead. His eyes roamed up and down but settled on her hips. Thoughts of her watery, doe eyes filled his head.