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Missing Pieces


After I finished B. Coming Burl, I was fortunate to have many people read it who had grown up with me and knew for themselves, or who had grown old with me telling them my stories of a misguided youth. Several of them reminded me about stories that I either (1) had to edit out during revisions, or (2) had forgotten to include. So now I have decided to share a few of these missing pieces - teasers for those who haven’t read it, and a bonus for those who have.

One story was from way back in the mists of my youth, when I was about four years old. We would make periodic pilgrimages to Nogales, Mexico as a family to buy essentials. I have fond memories of the small family-owned grocery store where my dad would buy café combate in small burlap bags, which the owner would grind for us in the back of the store, filling the space with the most amazing smell of fresh coffee. We would buy salsa from the factory and my brothers would buy fireworks to blow things up when we got home.

The coffee and the salsa could be carried across the border easily but fireworks were illegal in Arizona and therefore had to be smuggled back. I remember once, before we got to the border crossing, stopping so my brothers could stuff my pants with M-8s and firecrackers. I remember the US Border Agent leaning over the desk, looking down at me, and smiling innocently while I shifted the “package” in my pants to find a more comfortable position.

We weren’t searched and we made it across the border, making me a mule for contraband.

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