can a frustrated single mom and failed big city journalist save her family and salvage her career by returning to a town run by a gang of bungling thugs?


“The Resurrection of Puerto Cielo” is a novella published in serial form, 43 posts.




17


The doors burst open and pandemonium spilled outside as students dashed from school. Gabe and Dante darted through the onslaught of kids to the bike rack. In seconds, Dante was pedaling them through honking horns and waiting cars. Minutes later, he shot through a hole in traffic and coasted into M&M Motors, greeting a short, round girl with pink hair pumping gas into a beater truck.

“Hola, Sarah!”

She waved, “Hola chicos.”

Dante skidded to a stop. Inside an open service bay, a crowd of kids on bicycles clamored around a girl sitting in front of a computer.

“Hey G2, what you got for me?” yelled a heavy boy with a bright blue Mohawk cut.

“Hang on,” she answered, pulling a page from a printer and handing it to Blue Boy. “Señor Hernandez needs his meds from the pharmacy. Do good!”

The Mohawk scanned the instructions, shoved them in a back pocket, and rode off, shouting, “Adios, amigos!”

More voices spoke up.

“G2, what about me?”

“And me?”

G2’s fingers danced over the keyboard. She was G2 because she had the same name as her mom, Gloria, the police department dispatcher. More pages flew from the printer and were handed out. Groceries and meals to deliver, dogs to walk, cleaning to do, help for the elderly and disabled in the community. Soon the throng around her was nearly gone.

“Mr. Gabriel Diaz, I’ve been expecting you.”

Gabe turned to see Mitch, hand extended, coming out from under a car raised on a lift.

They shook and Mitch smiled, “Your gramps left something here for you.”

With that, Mitch disappeared into a back room. He returned moments later rolling a bicycle which he parked in front of Gabe and said,

“This is yours.”

Gabe stared in wonder. Just like the bikes he’d seen the other kids riding, it had a basket in front, a rack on the back and a bright gold “Z” on both sides of the frame. Just like Dante’s.

Speechless, he caressed the handlebars, looked up and said, “Wow!” Adding after a pause, “Thank you.”

Mitch’s eyes twinkled. He said, “Thank Grandpa Sam. Now, G2’s got a job for you.” And he went back to work.

Dante grinned and said, “Welcome to the Zorros.”

***

That evening, with Arnold and his autographed cast perched in the front basket, Gabe was beaming as he pushed his new bike into the courtyard.

He announced, “Look what…”

At that instant, he saw Sam, freshly showered and shaved, sitting at the family table with Manny and Espy.

Gabe leaned his prize against a palm and rushed to hug Grandpa, exclaiming, “Wow! Gramps, this bike is so cool!”

The reunion was interrupted by Arnold’s frantic barking.

The panicked warrior was confronting a monster that looked ready to devour him.

Unperturbed by the dog’s frightened protests, Max raised up on his hind legs and flicked his forked tongue at the distraught creature.

Freaked, Arnold leapt out of the basket, saved from falling by Manny’s cradling arms.

Convinced there was no easy meal here, the monster meandered into the garden foliage with Arnold’s eyes watching every step.

“Don’t worry, Arnold, Max is vegetarian,” Manny comforted, adding, “mostly.”

The family focus changed when Lucy set a pot of posole on the table. As they scooped soup into bowls and covered it with fresh cilantro, cabbage, onions, radishes, avocado, and lime, Gabe told of his new friends, the Zorros.

“We all have the same cool bikes, with the gold  ‘Z’ on the frame, and we use them to help people. Dante and I took meat, cheese, and vegetables from the public market to Señora Gonzalez. She lives alone in an apartment on the edge of town.”

Sitting in the vacant chair beside the candlelit courtyard altar, the ghost smiled. Sophia’s family was together again.

***

The mood in a Palm Estates kitchen was quite different.

Ricky watched as Grandmother Fernanda put dinner plates on the table. He knew his wife’s mother would never forgive him for her daughter’s tragic death. Fernanda was here only to care for her granddaughter, Maria. In her mind, Ricky did not exist.

On the other side of the table, Maria, red faced, glared at him. Neither woman had said a word since he’d come home.

The quiet was amplified by Frank’s stoic presence sitting silent beside Ricky.

Then Maria went off, screaming, “I finally find a friend in this hick town and your goons throw a brick through the window of her family’s business!”

Tears spilling from her face, Maria stormed, “You’re a loser! Because of you I’ve lost the only friend I had in this hellhole.”

The silverware rattled as she banged the tabletop with her fists. Her wheelchair jerked around and she quit the room.

Staggered, heart broken, Ricky Ruiz sat stone faced. Maria was all he had left to live for.

His mother-in-law scowled at him, nothing but ice in her eyes.

The women in his house were at war.

And Ricky was their enemy.

Nearby, the ghost of the departed wife and mother stood and watched. A tear slid down her cheek.

***