"Toma esta llavita de oro, mi bien

Mira lo que lleva dentro;

Toma esta llavita de oro, mi bien

Mira lo que lleva dentro

Lleva amores,

Lleva celos, mi bien,

Y un poco de sentimiento;

Lleva amores,

Lleve celos, mi bien,

Y un poco de sentimiento."

Siede sat in the rocking chair in the living room, singing, and looking at the two rings on her fingers, one an engagement ring, gold, with a modest diamond, and the other a narrow shank of gold with a slender, brilliant opal set in it so that it appeared to be part of the shank, on the little finger of her left hand. She knew Jack's letter by heart, the one that came with the gift of the ring, when she was 14, especially that part about growing: "If you want to grow some more, you can move it to the little finger of your right hand, and then, the little finger of your left hand. By that time, you should have a wedding ring to go next to it."

"Why do you sing such a sad cantiga the day before your wedding? "Love and jealousy and a little sorrow,"—pooh!"

"I like sad songs, Mama. I always have." She re-read Bobby's letter for the tenth time, only sweeping it aside as Maria, her younger sister, tried to read it too.

"Dear Siede,

We'd both be delighted to come to your wedding Christmas day. I'm sure Joe's parents will be able to entertain themselves gratefully without us for a change. I hope the Mellos—you and Francisco-- will accept this check, and that it will make your purchase of your own home somewhat less distant. I know it seems like a great deal of money, but we have more money than we know what to do with—I'm sorry, but it's true—unless we give it all away. Maybe after we have both finished school in a few years, we'll do just that.

There's something I have to tell you. My dad—Jack—asked me to kiss you for him at your wedding. The only strange thing about this is that he asked me this morning.

I don't know if you believe in ghosts, but since Jack died in 1983, his ghost has been knocking around—especially to members of his family—in every conceivable form. As a voice (most frequently), as a voice attached to a piece of clothing, as a solid invisible human being, and as a solid visible human being, . He tends to make himself quite useful, in Jack-like ways. One thing he has never done is to take over someone else's body.

I rather hope that is not what he has in mind, because dad is not a perfunctory kisser. In fact, quite the opposite.

If in this case, this is not the case, I will keep the kiss short and to the point. But it's hard to know what dad is going to do. Maybe it would be better if you declined to be kissed by a pale, strange American student at your wedding. Please let me know your feelings about this matter.

Love,

Bobby

Without hesitation, Siede had answered the letter: We are looking forward to seeing you Christmas. And thank you so much for the check! I am especially looking forward to seeing you if you turn out to be three instead of two, in any way. I have always wanted to kiss your father, since I was 7 years old. As I remember, he has only kissed me on top of the head, and maybe once on the cheek, though he always hugs. Hugged.

Love,

Siede

When she discussed the matter with Francisco, a high school teacher (in fact, he had been her high school teacher until she decided she was going to marry him), he asked her:

"Does this sound like something Jack would do?"

"Yes, as a matter of fact, it does."

"Oh. Well, it would hardly do to be rude to someone without whom I would never have met you," he said, and leaned over to kiss her himself.

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The rain beat against the car window, and made driving slow. The water slid by the wheels as it would around a small motorboat. "Nothing like driving to Juarez in December. Merry Christmas," said Bobby.

"Your dad did it, more than once," said Joe, who was actually reading in the front seat of the car; it had never made her carsick. Bobby had not yet replaced his '84 Chevy, for some reason; it was both roomy and comfortable. Every time he'd eye one of the new Japanese cars, he'd remember how roomy and comfortable it was. A Lincoln Continental would have been just as much, if not more so (especially for the long drives between school and home, and more distant places), but Bobby avoided conspicuous consumption like the plague…now an old Continental…that might be nice. He remembered the taxi fleets of Lincoln Town Cars in New York City…he had never figured out why a taxi company would choose a car that used so much gas, though.

"Dad could drive across the country on a wet ice-skating rink," said Bobby.

"Can I see the photo of Siede again?" asked Joe.

"Fish in the right-hand pocket of my jacket for my wallet," he said.

Joe took the photo out. Black, shiny hair to her shoulders, curling on the ends, a scoop nose that came to a wonderful point, and bright brown eyes—though she said her siblings' eyes were all green---and a light brown complexion, without a trace of red. A soft mouth, with a genuine smile. Slight, lovely figure in a blue cotton dress, with cut-off sleeves; summertime. "Boy, your dad could sure pick 'em," said Joe, looking out of the corner of her eyes to see if Bobby would smile, about anything. But a passenger in the rain forgets how hard it is to be a driver in the rain.

"If I got the story straight, she was seven at the time, and she picked him."

"Yes, and then he adopted the whole family..." she said.

"Yup."

"I bet that guy he used to have is a looker too."

"Yup." said Bobby, remembering the grass, and the Adirondacks, and Ennis.

'And I bet he says 'yup' a lot," she said.

"Yup," he said. He took his eyes off the road for a minute, and saw that she had her head propped in her open hand, looking down, the book closed. He could just see her engagement ring, which she had transferred to her right hand when she got married, glowing a dull deep red, always glowing, even at night, even in the rain. He squinted at the road signs; by God, it said "gas-food-lodging." up ahead, He carefully steered the car off the highway, and stopped in the first convenient spot..

"Hey," he said, stroking her hair.

"Sometimes, I wonder what I'm even doing in this car with you," she said. "your men—how am I supposed to keep up with them?"

"Since I told you every single thing about all three of them—if you're counting, you must have a pretty bad memory. I thought you said it turned you on," he said. "Once," he added.

"But that's not why you do it…" she said.

:"No," he said patiently, "I do it because it turns me on." He laughed. "But if you object...you know. I'll stop. Period."

"No," she said, "what the scorpion said to the frog when they were drowning in the middle of the river because the scorpion stung him… 'It's in my nature.' It's in your nature."

"You're drowning?"

"No," she said, smiling, "only literally." The rain beat down upon the car as if it would never stop. He cleared his throat, looked sternly at her, and returned his eyes to the road before reciting: "Don't forget: 'If ever they shall weary of the existing government, they may exercise their constitutional right to amend it, or their revolutionary right to overthrow it.'" He started back for the highway. In his third year of college, Bobby was now officially a history major—which he'd planned on being for the past eight years.

"Oh, the Declaration of Independence," she said. "Gee, Bobby, I never thought of being married to you as being governed," she said, smiling at how little it was like being governed.

He could have let the Declaration of Independence go, but: "Shame on you!" he said, instead. "It's Lincoln's First Inaugural."

"Really? Gosh—I didn't think he'd be so—revolutionary sounding, in 1861. On the eve of the Civil War."

"What he was saying was: I've been as constutional as I can, I have compromised with the south as much as I can, I have agreed that your property-ruunaway slaves—must be returned to you…there isn't much else I can do. No more slave states..it's up to you…"

"So then shortly, we starting shooting holes in each other for 4 years…"

"Not to mention all the other ways a guy could still die in the Civil War, like not having his doctor know he should wash his hands…"

"No," said Joe, now pre-med, "they knew."

"They did?

"Sure. Semmelweiss proved it empirically---wash your hands between patients, death rate goes way down….of course—he couldn't prove why…"

"Pasteur?"

"Yeah…about 1865, he started working on what those "wee beasties" they saw through their microscopes were."

"So—empiracally—clean hands, healthier partients…but I bet a lot of doctors didn't dig that..such a waste of time!"

"I'll say. They fired Semmelweiss, in the '40s, and of course the death rate bounced right back up on his ward--but the doctors, some,…just didn't buy it. And I imagine, during the Civil War, there were plenty of field stations that didn't even have clean water."

"Yeah.". Medicine, Bobby found, was usually less interesting than history. But this wasn't. It was..sort of a nice mixture, which reminded Joe:

"I'm sorry I get so nervous—so, single-minded—about your..ambidexterousness…it's sort of like that, isn't it?"

" Yeah, sort of. I mean, I don't like, or not like, men like you. It's like a whole different set of responses. Seriously—it's your call, and you know it. Men turn me on; you, I love. And...you turn me on."

"I know that, Bobby," she said. "I'm sorry. But… suppose you get tired of me, and fall for some man?"

"Not going to happen."

"At the wedding, while I'm looking at the bride's dress, you'll be checking out her brothers to see if they really have green eyes…"

He laughed. "Yes, I gotta admit, I'd planned to do that."

"Boy, that man sure could speak English," said Joe.

"Who?

"Lincoln, of course. Who were we talking about?":

" You and me. Yeah, he could. Could think in it, too," said Bobby. The downpour continued.

"He was mean as hell, Sherman," said Joe. "'Like Moses riding on a bumblebee' is right."

"It wasn't gratuitous. The south, theoretically, still had a chance…but in some ways, I suppose, you could compare it to Hiroshima: overkill; saves time, maybe lives—on one side. Y'know, you're right. Sherman was mean as hell…"

The rain had let up a little. Bobby said: "what's that book you've got there?"

She fished around on the floor, and picked it up. ' It's actually one of yours. I want to read you something from it, tonight, before we go to sleep in El Paso." What can a Man Do?

"The part about the big beds?"

"No—although that one's hysterical—the Christmas eve one."

"Nope… Haven't read that one." He had gotten the radical book several years ago, when he thought he might be a pacifist. Now, he felt like Peter Pan, looking in at the nursery window at a life from which he would forever be barred.

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"Ecclesiastes? I can't remember it, said Julia Chavez, Siede's mother.

"You'll get an earful, then," said Siede.

"Matthew...that's better," said her mother.

"Sermon on the Mount."

"With the Mass, it'll take about an hour…"

"Yes. And then I get to kiss Jack."

"You are such a fool! That boy of his just wants to kiss you."

"That wouldn't be so bad, either."

"You are shameless! What would Francisco think?"

That he's married a woman with a loving…nature, which is all his, now. Besides, we already discussed it."

"And?"

"He figures he owes him."

"Let's try on your dress, one more time, said her mother, glad to change the subject.

'Again?" she said, unhappily. She was really sure it fit by now.

"White roses and freesias?"

"That's what we ordered," she said. "I love freesias. They are off white, just like the lace on my dress."

"They'll fight with the roses."

"Nothing beats freesias."

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Bobby was lying on his back, his eyes closed, when Joe cleared her throat, turned the light by her side of the bed on, propped herself on one elbow, and started to read. Silently, he opened his eyes .

"This is on a mountainside in the Swiss Alps:

'…there (came) a knock at the door, and the young farmer from above and his two sisters came in. In their hands they each had two long bunches of twigs woven together and dipped in oil. It was 11 o'clock on Christmas Eve, and they, and everyone, were ready to start down the mountain to the great churches—mountain hamlets like Hainzenberg have only chapels. One bunch of fagots, as a torch, would light the way down from the mountain, burning out just as they got to the bottom; the other torch would light the way up. They would get back home from midnight mass about 2:30 A. M., and at 5 they would start down again for 6 A. M. mass…

"We went out on the balcony after they left, facing the northwest wall of mountains across the valley. The night was glittering with all the stars…. Across the valley, just below the peaks, were little lights, hundreds of little lights, hanging all over the mountain wall, some of them in winding lines, some in pairs, and some single. The little lights, in lines, pairs and single, began to come down the mountains across the valley.

"Mostly there are no real paths like ours," said our host.

"The little lights came lower, lower down the mountains, and the pairs and singles merged with the winding lines as they approached the bottom. Then as the lights reached the bottom, they went out, and we could hear the bells begin to ring."

"God, I want to see that some day...you suppose they still do it?"

"Who knows," said Bobby, sitting up and kissing her. "Thank you for reading that. The only faith I have is in people, the singles, and pairs and lines of people," he said. " some carrying handmade torches, of course," he smiled. " Joe nodded, her eyes very bright, and, putting the book on the bedside table, without turning the light out, she kissed him in earnest.

"You tired?" she asked.

"I'm never too tired to make love to you" He put his hands over her arms, holding her down to the bed before releasing her.

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Later, they were lying like spoons, with Joe on the outside.

"'I have been quite a man since you left'" he said softly, to no determinate person.

"I heard that," said Joe. "Who said it, and what does it mean?"

" Lincoln wrote it as a P.S. in a letter to a life-long friend. It has nothing to do with the rest of the letter. Nobody knows what it means."

"Huh," said Joe, "so now I'm supposed to be all bored and go to sleep?"

"No, you're supposed to be all sleepy and go to sleep."

She curled up beside him again, and put one arm around him. "I have been quite a man since you left" she said. "Huh." Soon,

they both slept.

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Crossing the Rio Grande at 11:00 A.M. the next morning, Bobby started singing "Across the wide Missouri," and when Joe asked him if he didn't know any songs about the Rio Grande, he said "No."

"We forgot Christmas presents for each other," said Joe.

"Oh! No, I didn't. I forgot—that I didn't forget." He reached in his left-hand jacket pocket, and drew out a small parcel. He handed it across his body to Joe. "Merry Christmas, Joe," he said.; "Can I kiss you without stopping the car?"

"Not on your life," she said, taking the brown tissue paper off the small box. There was a buff-colored jewel box inside, which she immediately opened. "Oh! They match my ring…they're so beautiful." She took the small diamond studs out of her ear, and put them in the box for safekeeping, and repklaced them in her ears with the oval rubies—nearly 3/8 8inch long, with a narrow gold bezel. They were, like her ring, unfaceted, smooth. "Now I'll want to wear them all the time, and I'll have to throw my other earrings away." She put her hand around his head and kissed him soundly on the cheek. Them she started licking it.

"Hey, you'll ruin my make-up," he said, turning his head briefly to kiss her mouth. "I thought they ought to be a little larger than the ones you wear; I mean, you're 5'9"—people have to be able to see them. Hey, they look great with gray eyes. I..gotta wife…with gray eyes," he sang, to no special tune.

"Maybe…we could give the little diamonds to Siede?" she said.

" O.K. Put the diamond studs in their beds, in the box, you know, so they look like they belong there, and re-wrap the thing. Do you feel sneaky?"

"A little. But I think she'll like them. Doesn't she wear little gold hoops? Most Mexican children get their ears pierced when they can't even talk yet."

"But—she's not Mexican. Neither is Francisco. They're both from Brazil. Mmmm...yes, her ears are pierced, but I don't think she was wearing hoops.

God hath made every thing beautiful in his time: also he hath set the world in men's hearts, so that no man can find out the work that God maketh from the beginning to the end.

I know that there is no good in him, but for a man to rejoice, and to do good in his life.

And also that every man should eat and drink, and enjoy the good of all his labor, it is the gift of God.

I know that, whatsoever God doeth, it shall be forever: nothing can be put to it, nor any thing taken from it: and God doeth it.

That which hath been is now; and that which is to be hath already been; and God requireth that which is past.

"I love that," said Joe. "Remember when I told you, 'There is nothing new under the sun?'

"Very well," said Bobby. The priest had greeted everyone when the had been ushered in, especially the bride and groom. The wedding party had gathered in the front, near the beautiful windows, glowing red and blue and green and gold. Siede's brother Jorge walked with her in the place of her father, her other brother, Mario, with her mother, and her sister Maria as maid-of honor. No bridesmaids. Her dress was of old lace and new silk, and matched the white roses and off-white freesias she carried.

This was the Old Testament reading, from Ecclesiastes, which Siede and Francisco had chosen. Bobby was sitting by the aisle, and fingered the carefully tooled, slender post that rose beside him. They had agreed to kneel when others did, and stand, but of course not to cross themselves or kneel at the pew when they came in, and of course they would not take Communion.

The Gospel reading was much more traditional; Bobby had always said this passage was "a tough one."

You are the salt of the earth; but if the salt has lost its savor, how shall it be salted? It is no longer good for anything, except to be thrown out and trampled under foot by men.
You are the light of the world. A city set on a hill cannot be hid; nor does anyone light a lamp and put it under a bushel, but on a stand, and it gives light to all who are in the house.

So let your light shine before men, that they shall see your good works and glorify your father who is in heaven.

. Ye have heard that it hath been said, an eye for an eye, and a tooth for a tooth: But I say unto you, that ye resist not evil: but whosoever shall smite thee on thy right cheek, turn to him the other also.

And if any man will sue thee at the law, and take away thy coat, let him have thy cloak also.

And whosoever shall compel thee to go a mile, go with him twain.

Give to him that asketh thee, and from him that would borrow of thee turn not thou away.

Ye have heard that it hath been said, Thou shalt love thy neighbor, and hate thine enemy.

But I say unto you, Love your enemies, bless them that curse you, do good to them that hate you, and pray for them which despitefully use you, and persecute you.

That ye may be the children of your Father which is in heaven: for he maketh his sun to rise on the evil and on the good, and sendeth rain on the just and on the unjust.

For if ye love them which love you, what reward have ye? do not even the publicans the same?

And if ye salute your brethren only, what do ye more than others? do not even the publicans so?

Be ye therefore perfect, even as your Father which is in heaven is perfect.

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"Boy, you can say that again, " said Bobby.

" She left all the easy parts out," said a voice. Bobby turned and whispered to Joe, who smiled.

The service progressed. The priest 's sermon was short, and somewhat personal, as he knew both Francisco and Siede. He mentioned that Francisco had been her teacher "until she required his heart of him." The vows were taken ("no 'obey,') before the double ring exchange, which involved the best man (Jorge, her brother) giving Siede's ring to the priest to bless, and then he giving it to Francisco to place; then the same ceremony was repeated for Francisco's ring, Siede placing it on his finger. Just before the Communion, the priest asked for the Sign of Peace, which consisted of everyone turning to his or her neighbor and greeting him warmly, or kissing him. Joe said "peace be with you" to the woman on her left, and then turned to Bobby, who had no neighbor but the aisle, and kissed him. They both stood in the aisle, as close to the pew as possible, to let the people by who went to take Communion (which of course in a Catholic church is considered to be the actual body and blood of Christ, after the priest blesses the wine and bread). Then the priest introduced Siede and Francisco as the newly married couple to the wedding guests, who all applauded. Siede and Francisco kissed, and continued to look at each other. The priest gave them all his blessing, and dismissed them, with a "Happy and blessed Christmas."

As Joe and Bobby walked back down the aisle, Bobby said "I was a little concerned that we'd be treated to a good old fashioned Mexican wedding, with the bride being admonished not to aggravate her husband, and so on."

"Bobby, you know Siede would never consent to such a thing," she said, "Do they both have green eyes?"

"Uh...yeah, they both do. Really striking with the dark skin," said Bobby. "I know, but there was always the chance that they wouldn't have a choice."

Siede stood on the broad marble porch, with her bouquet in the crook of her right arm, and looked over the crowd still milling about her, accepting their congratulations with a smile. Somehow, she had managed to replace her engagement ring over the wedding ring since the ceremony; perhaps she had it in a pocket.

"So many rings!" said one friend of her mother's, looking at the two from Francisco and the one from Jack. "What kind of stone is the little one?"

"It's an Australian opal," said Siede, "from a very good friend—who I'd like to say something about, in a minute."

"No, that's not an opal, said the woman. "Opals are orange, with green fire."

"It's a Australian one; they're actually made of the same stuff, but this kind has different colors." Joe and Bobby emerged from the church, and stood in front of Siede, who smiled at both of them, and then raised her head and said:

"Everyone: the man who adopted me and my family financially, when I was seven years old, and without whom I would never have gone to school, would never have met my husband, and without whom my mother wouldn't have a nice apartment to live in has always been a very good friend to me, and I think, I to him. He couldn't be here today, but he has asked that his son—Bobby?"—she indicated him, and he looked at her, "kiss me for him at my wedding today." The crowd applauded, as they had when Francisco and Siede had been introduced right after the Communion, but with a fraction less enthusiasm, as Bobby turned toward Siede.

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Usually when Catholic people cross themselves, they do it with open, visible gestures: the forehead, the chest, inside the left shoulder blade, inside the right shoulder blade. But sometimes, if one feels the gesture might seem inappropriate to some, or might be offensive to others, they cross themselves quickly and quietly. People of all religions have this problem at one time or another, in one way or another.

Siede crossed herself quickly and quietly, and put her left arm around Bobby's waist, still holding the white roses and freesias in the crook of her right arm. Bobby lifted her chin a little with his right hand, and brought his lips to hers. They stood that way for two or three seconds, and then Siede drew him close, and Bobby put his right hand to her face. Their eyes closed; their mouths opened, and each seemed to be feeding eagerly from the open mouth of the other.

Francisco stood with his arms crossed, apparently observing objectively (he was primarily a science teacher). Joe put her closed fist, thumb up, between her eyes, which she closed, briefly. Siede put her tongue inside Bobby's mouth, and felt for the rough tongue of her partner, which then teased it in the playground between their two mouths. She let the bouquet fall from her arm, and the flowers spread out on the marble porch, around their feet—there was no space between them.. There was a slight, surprised sound from those still at the top of the stairs, as if something had been dropped and broken. Siede put her freed hand around Bobby's neck, and ran it through his hair; her other hand joined it, and they made little grabs at his hair as they caressed it, and still they stood with their bodies pressed together in a close embrace, their mouths locked, but not idle.

When the flowers fell, Joe and Francisco stooped to retrieve them at the same moment, and, somewhat comically, bumped heads. "Ow!" said Joe, laughing, and Francisco said, "Sorry." After a few minutes, he took the flowers Joe had retrieved with one hand, and gently pushed Siede back from Bobby with the other. 'That's enough,' he said, quietly. The two who had been separated looked at each other, one as if surprised at whom she saw, and the other as if not quite sure where he was.

Francisco placed the bouquet back in the crook of Siede's arm, which after a couple of prompts, held it; Bobby stepped aside and took Joe's hand. He looked questioningly at her, and she raised her eyes to heaven for a moment, and said softly. "Well, it could have been worse. He could have laid her right there on the church porch." Bobby looked horrified, for once in his life. "Joe laughed, and kissed his cheek," It wasn't that bad," she reassured him.

Bobby shook his head. 'Dad," he said, "what am I going to do with you?" Siede threw her bouquet to the people down below, which was now everyone. Since the bouquet had not been bound, the freesias and roses went to many. Joe smiled. Siede grabbed Bobby's hand and drew him down the steps, and away from the crowd.

"I...didn't expect to do that," she said, her brown eyes falling from his brown gaze.

"What?" said Bobby.

"Eat you alive," she said.

"I don't seem to remember what happened—but Joe told me some."

"I thought...you were your father," she said. "I...put my tongue in your mouth. I was grabbing your hair…"

"Oh," he said spontaneously, "I don't think he'd mind that."

"No…he didn't. You—don't remember anything?"

"No…I just thought…he would like that." Suddenly he begged, "please don't cross yourself again." It was the last thing he remembered clearly.

Siede laughed out loud. "I wasn't about to, but if you say I shouldn't, maybe I should." They both looked up at Francisco, who was talking easily with the priest, and Joe, who was looking at them.

"Sometime," said Siede, "You'll have to kiss me."

Bobby bent his head and kissed her briefly and firmly on the lips. "Is that what you were expecting, before?" he asked.

"You bet your fortune and your unborn children it wasn't," she said, laughing, and hugged him impulsively, squeezing his hand, and then ran back up the steps. Bobby followed her, and said to Francisco:

"I'm sorry." Francisco put his arms around Bobby, and whispered in his ear," I would be angry with you, but I know it wasn't you. But I don't think we should tell the priest." Bobby laughed.

"Excuse me, Father, but I have to go help my mother," said Siede, taking Francisco's arm.

He put his arm around her; "Bless you both," he said, letting them go.

"Thank you Father,' said Bobby.

"You're welcome, my son," said the priest, and chuckled briefly. He went back inside the church, without closing the massive door. "And work out your salvation with a diligence," he added, to himself.

As Joe and Bobby headed for the car, a voice said, "That's the greatest kiss I ever got from a woman."

"So I gathered, dad," said Bobby. "You're an inspiration."

"You know I do not mean wrong,' said the voice.

Bobby stopped in his tracks, and then said: "That's an—odd way of putting it."

"Is Joe O.K. with everything?"

"All seems well with us," Bobby answered, testing the waters.

The wind ruffled Bobby's hair…perhaps. He heard a very distant voice: "Do you think people would call it a piece of silly affectation if I should kiss what's left of my family?" and felt a kiss on his left temple. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up, as he recognized another quote from his favorite author.

"Dad!" said Bobby

"What is it, little darlin'?" said Joe, who was wondering why Bobby was still outside the car.

"You don't think dad's taken up reading a lot?"

"Not unless he could do it under a great big tree," she said.

Bobby smiled. "I want to talk to Jorge about the maquiladora, the twin plant program."

"I just bet you do. You mean, where we send raw and partly raw stuff to Mexico, and they put it together, get paid nothing almost, and then send it back to us to sell?"

"Yeah," said Bobby. "It doesn't seem quite fair, does it?"

"We still have to give Siede her present," said Joe.

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Author's notes: The words to the very old Spanish song in English are: Take this key of gold, my love/ see what is in (my heart) /repeat/ it contains love; it contains jealousy, my love, and a little sorrow /repeat/. Thanks to Sue Seligson for the written Spanish. "...Like Moses riding on a Bumblebee" is from a composition by Aaron Copeland about the south, which I haven't been able to trace. The Peter Pan quote is from Peter and Wendy, J.M. Barrie. The excerpt about the people carrying hand-made torches down the mountain on Christmas Eve for mass is from "Zillertal Man," What Can a Man Do? Milton Mayer, 1964. The Bible quotes are from Ecclesiastes ("The Teacher"), and Matthew's Christ's Sermon on the Mount. "Work out your salvation with a diligence" is u from a modern religious play, The Cocktail Party by a very Anglican, not Catholic, writer, T.S. Eliot. God knows where the frog and scorpion story comes from; everyone in the world must know it by now.

Lincoln stuff: the quotation Bobby applies to his marriage (in jest) is from Lincoln's First Inaugural Address, March 4, 1861. "I have been quite a man since you left" is exactly as Bobby describes it. "All seems well with us" accompanied a drawing of Lincoln, sitting on the floor, writing with a drumhead for a table, which appeared in Harper's Weekly the day he died, but referred back to what he said about the surrender of General Lee to Grant at Appomattox, after Lee had signed it, when the Weekly was put to bed. The two quotes from Jack: "You know I do not mean wrong," Lincoln wrote to the same friend to whom he addressed the P.S, Bobby quoted earlier, apologizing if he has seemed too insistent in making suggestions about how his friend should handle his ambiguous feelings towards his prospective wife; some will recognize the partial quote answering the little girl, who urged Lincoln to grow a beard, because it would help him get elected president, which he then proceeded to do—after the election.