Florence is walking around Lamesa looking for a town library when she is approached by an old woman.  

Have you seen my son? (In Spanish)

No.  Who’s your son? (Florence replies in Spanish.)

Jesus.  My son is Jesus 

Your son’s name is Jesus?  

Yes That’s him!  Have you seen him?

(Florence felt sorry for the old woman) Ma’am I haven’t seen your son.  I’m new in town.  Why we just arrived from San Angelo.  

San Angelo?  The old woman looked horrified? Oh my God!  

No no no.  (Realizing that she got the Spanish wrong). We (patting her chest) We arrived from San Angelo.  Who is your son?  What’s his last name?  ¿Cuál es tu apellido? Jesus who?

A man walked past Florence and the woman’s face changed.  She looked concerned.  Like he was going to shoo her off like a wild dog.  He had one of those natural West Texas scowls that most men who were hardened by the drought and the ups and downs of cotton farming.  Florence knew that face all too well.  Her uncle had that face when he told his brother he was gonna sell the farm.  Without a farm to care for, his brother (Florence’s father) would need to find work and a new place to live.  Florence’s father searched and searched until he found an opening at the cotton mill in Lamesa.  

The man shook his head as he walked past Florence.

Florence told herself not to mind him.  Just like she did with that nosying narrow minded Billy Wilder back home In San Angelo.  

There you go again Flo.  You’re talking to the Spics like they just like us.

What do you know Billy!  Do you even listen in Sunday School?  They are just like us.  We’re all God’s children.

That don’t mean you gotta talk to them.

I most certainly am going to talk to them.  I hope more of them come so I can talk to them also.  And then more after that!  Anything so that I don’t have to talk to you.  

Billy picked up his bike and hopped on the seat.  You won’t have to worry about them coming to you.  You’re going to them.  He rode off.

What’re you talking about?

Have fun in Lamesa.  He said laughing as he sped down the road.

This is your new home now.   Florence could hear her mother’s words like they were coming right out of the radio.

This is a good opportunity for your father and me.  With his job at the gin and the new teacher position at the school, we’ll have be able to rent a nice home in town.  

Florence’s mother was that classic mix of hard Southern Baptist woman and that Rosie The Riveter ‘we can do it’ attitude.  The years they’d spent on Uncle Rich’s farm allowed her mother to earn her BA in Spanish at Texas Women’s College.  

[end of flashback]

The sound of a car horn jolted Florence back to the present.  Florence felt someone or something push her to the side of road.  

Blackness.

When Florence came to she could smell the exhaust coming from the truck as it’s engine revved in place.  It was pushing against a mail truck parked just a few yards away from where Florence was laying.  Papers were flying everywhere like the confetti that fell magically from the sky the day the first troops started coming home from the war.

Florence watched a white envelope fall from the sky and land right on her stomach.  It was all white, save for a patter of red and blue stripes on the border.  

The woman! Florence sat up and looked onto the road where she and the woman were standing.  Nothing was there.  Florence looked right and left and couldn’t find her.  

The scowling man came running from up the road.  He approached the driver’s side of the truck.  He opened the cab door and Florence could see the body of a man slumped over inside.  The scowling man reached around the body, turned the ignition key and stepped down from the truck.  The roar of the engine stopped and the radiator hissed from under the truck’s hood.

The scowling man turned around and glared at Florence.  

Young lady what in God’s name did you think you were doing?  

He reached his hand to Florence.  She glared right back at him, ignoring his gesture of assistance and picked herself up.  

Dazed, confused and embarrassed, Florence muttered the first words that came to her lips, “I’ve gotta go.”  She dropped the envelope and ran down the street.  The postman was rounding the corner and had to jump to get out of Florence’s way.  He started to let out the beginning of a “Slow down!” until the saw scene of the accident.  

Later that evening...

Florence?  

Yes mother?

Officer Brown is here.  He wants to have a word with you.

Florence gets up from her bed and follows her mother into the living room.  Her father is  sitting on the couch next to a man in police uniform.

I can assure you officer that my daughter is not the mischievous type.  

The man in the uniform looked up at Florence with a military grade look of concern on his face.

You’re lucky to be alive young lady.

Florence just stared silently at Officer Brown until she felt a nudge on her shoulder.  

Mind your manners, her mother said.

Yes.  Officer.  I’m sorry.  I didn’t mean to cause any trouble.  I was just trying to help that old lady.

Old lady?  

Yes.  She didn’t speak English and I was trying to help he find her son.

Officer Brown looked up at Florence’s father then at Her mother.  

Florence’s mother interrupted, Florence!  Just what are you talking about.

Florence looked at her mother.  She was looking for her son.  I was trying to help her. Isn’t that what the Lord wants?

The town of Lamesa was undergoing changes.  Florence’s father James moved the family 

Ever since the Braceros started coming in, weird things have been happening.