Narrative Essay Winner

El Sombrerón

By Jacob Roggie

     It was late in the evening and the girls were all feeling tired, but Odilia kept them moving. It was cold and a slight breeze that brought a fresh smell of flowers was in the Mexican air.

 

     “Who is that?” Velia asked.

 

      At first Odilia couldn’t see who she was talking about, but then she caught a glimpse of him. He was a short Mexican boy playing his guitar under a sycamore tree with his mules. He must have seen them, too, because he stopped playing his guitar and walked over to them.

 

      “Aren’t you a little young to be traveling in the woods this late?” the boy asked.

 

       “Actually I have the same question for you,” Juanita said.

 

       “Well that's true, but may I ask where you ladies are going?” he mumbled. Odilia was thinking they shouldn’t tell this strange boy but something about him made her keep quiet.

 

       “We're going to see Grandma,” Pita exclaimed.

 

       “Do you have a place to stay? These woods can be dangerous at night,” the boy asked.

 

       “No, we don’t have a place to stay,” Delia said.

 

       “Well I have a place for you to stay if you want," he stated generously.

 

       “We don’t even know your name,” Jaunita said harshly.

 

       “I don’t know your names either. Mine is Pueblo.”

 

       Odilia wanted to answer him for some reason. “That is Jaunita, Velia, Delia, Pita, and I am Odilia.” Odilia knew she shouldn’t tell strangers their names, but she was just awestruck by Pueblo.

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      “Odilia. That’s a lovely name,” Pueblo stated.

 

      “Thank you,” Odilia said, blushing.

 

      “Well do you want a place to stay? It's only a little farther down the road,” Pueblo asked.

 

      “Yes we would like that a lot,” Odilia, Velia, and Delia said in unison.

 

      Jaunita pulled Odilia aside. “Are you mad? We barely know this guy,” Jaunita said angrily.

 

      “Relax Jaunita; he is super friendly, and he has a place to stay. Do you really want to sleep under a tree at night again?” Odilia stated as she walked back up to talk to Pueblo.

 

      “I don’t trust him," Pita said.

 

      “Me neither,” Jaunita said under her breath. When they arrived there was an old building with a stable and Ipens. Its roof and all walls were still intact and on a sign above the entrance read Rancho de toros  (the ranch of bulls).

 

       “Did this used to be a bull fighting ranch?” Pita asked excitedly.

 

      “Yes. My parents were the owners,” Pueblo stated.

 

      “What happened to them?” Velia asked.

 

       “They died of sickness three years ago when I was 12,” Pueblo said sadly.

 

      “I’m sorry to hear that,” Odilia said while putting an arm around him to comfort him. As they walked through the house the girls noticed that it was in much better shape than the outside.

 

       “Here is your room. If you need anything I'll be in the kitchen getting dinner ready,” Pueblo exclaimed. The room was nice and it had three beds, a bathroom, and a lot of pictures on the walls. Odilia sat on a bed and sighed happily.

 

       “He is amazing, right?” She said excitedly. “He’s my age too.”

 

         Jaunita was looking around the room as if to see if it was safe enough to stay the night. “Listen to yourself!” Jaunita exclaimed. “You never have talked like this before. Something has gotten into you,” she said, concerned.

 

       “Well, I’m going to see how dinner is going,” Odilia said. She took the long way through the house to see the entire house. She came to the door of the kitchen but hesitated to go in because Pueblo wasn’t there. All of a sudden she heard the door open to the kitchen and there came Pueblo, but he was carrying a bag. He set it down on the table and started to cut into it with a knife. Out of the bag dirt started spilling out onto a pan on the stove, then he started to mix other ingredients. When he was done he put the pan in the oven and waited for it to cook. Odilia didn’t know how long she was standing there but the timer rang, and he took a pan with bread on it. Suddenly, Odilia realized what happened: Pueblo was putting dirt in their food! Odilia was feeling anger and rage in her body and, without thinking, she ran through the door and tackled Pueblo.

 

      “What are you doing?” he asked, surprised. Then Odilia realized that all her sisters had ran down the stairs and were all in the kitchen.

 

      “You lied to me!” Odilia shouted. “I trusted you, but you were poisoning us!” she yelled in his face while tears were welling up in her eyes.

 

       “Odilia, what are you talking about? Poisoning us?’” Velia questioned her.

 

      “Look at the bag on the table; it's dirt. He’s been putting it in our food to poison us,” Odilia stated. As she talked, the girls walked over to the bag and saw it was full of dirt. They all gasped in unison at what had been happening.

 

      “I ca… can explain,” Pueblo stuttered.

 

       “Then explain,” Jaunita said aggressively.

 

        “It’s a curse. Every time I fall for someone the curse makes me give them dirt,” Pueblo said remorsefully.

 

         “Fall for someone…ohhhh, you fell for Odilia!” Pita gasped. All eyes were on Odilia.

 

         “I fell for you, too,” she confessed. “But now, I can’t imagine I ever had,” Odilia stated harshly.

 

        “I’m sorry. What are you going to do with me?” Pueblo wondered.

 

       “Let's give him the dirt bread,” Delia said.

 

        “No,” Odilia stated. “It's a curse. Let him go. But if I see you one more time, we will give you the bread.” She got off of Pueblo, and he got up and started for the door.

 

        “Thank you,” He stated.

 

         “Go!” And with that, he ran out of the house. Odilia fell to her knees crying.

 

          “I’m such a fool!” she said weeping.

 

          “No one blames you,” Pita said comforting her. All the sisters came to her side.

 

        “All we need to do is not make another mistake like that again and everything will be fine," Jaunita stated.

 

        “Yes--never make that mistake again,” Odilia stuttered.