Chapter 18.4 - Impetus

“It is entirely seemly for a young man killed in battle to lie mangled by the bronze spear. In his death all things appear fair. But when dogs shame the gray head and gray chin and nakedness of an old man killed, it is the most piteous thing that happens among wretched mortals.”

Homer

Maria stared at her father sitting on the back veranda of their house overlooking the Rio Chama.  The house blazed in the light of the setting sun, but no amount of light could remove the shadow of pain that rested on Antonio Chavez’s face.   He was staring out over the property he had inherited from his father when he was seventeen years old. Maria watched a tear drop from his wrinkled face onto a letter he was holding. This year he had lost a son in to drugs in the drug war that raged in Espanola, and Maria’s mother to a broken heart. She just stopped eating after her brother died.

“What’s wrong, papa.” Maria asked. Antonio didn’t move. His eyes were fixated on the reflection of the setting sun off the river far below. The heat of the day still wafted off the distant mesas making them appear like ships at sea. Maria quietly tried to take the letter from her father’s lap, but he held it tight not letting go.

“It’s alright, papa. Let me see the news.”

Her father released with a sob. He looked at her with infinite pain in his eyes and quickly looked back at the river below.

Maria’s heart sank when she saw the letter was from the war department. She knew what she was about to read.

Dear Mr. Chavez

We regret to inform you of your son’s death. We know it comes as striking news to you, your family and loved ones. How tragic that men, and women alike, must depart from this life at such a young age. Our deepest sympathies and affections are extended to you and your family. We – and I especially – cannot begin to comprehend the grief and sorrow that you’ll experience within the next few days.

In this vocation lives of good men, like your son, are put on the line to save others, and to better the society in which we must live. This means any small error can be costly. Our team failed to protect your son, and together we will forever regret it.

We honored and revered your son – our brother – in life; we wish to bequeath his memory in death. God bless you; may He remain with you and comfort you in your trials and loneliness.

We extend to you our deepest regrets and most sincere apologies.

Respectfully yours,

Jeffrey Millhouse

Delta Squad

Maria placed her arms around her sobbing father. “Oh, papa.” They cried together for a very long time. Her father never said a word. Too much pain had passed his way.

Maria saw to the rest of the family, as she had since her mother died, feeding them and putting them to bed. She went out to the veranda and placed a blanket around her father knowing he would spend the night trying to come to terms with all that had happened to his family recently.

He had tried so hard to keep his family safe and secure. For most of his children’s lives he had worked two jobs, working the apple orchard and farm, and working up in Los Alamos as a security guard during the evenings. Antonio had always demonstrated integrity to his wife and family, hard work, discipline. His story was an often heard story in the Espanola Valley these days. Families had all been hit hard by the drug wars and many had lost children to the war. Antonio decided that evening that he would lose no more children to the Valley and in the morning enrolled all of his children in Los Alamos schools through connections he had made at the Labs.