’The wind started up at three a.m., the same way it had for hundreds of years, the same way I used to hear the blowing so hard around our little house in the canyon that the loose windowsills sounded like harmonicas. The old metal weather stripping played like the gods pressed their mouths around the screens in the living room, where I slept when I was growing up.’
This is how this story begins, with these words.
Most people associate California with sunshine, beaches, surfing, San Francisco, the Golden Gate Bridge, Disneyland and Hollywood, Movie Stars. Vacation time, the warmth of the sun, a margarita by the pool. But for the people who live there, it has its downsides, as well, perhaps more so the closer to the southern border you are. If the fires and earthquakes aren’t enough, this story shares the lives of those who are continuously subjected to judgment and/or harassment because of how they appear to others, the colour of their skin or their accent, or how well they understand or speak the English language. As if the original people of this land were white skinned and spoke english.
’I never knew my own grandparents, but my friend Grief Embers told me his grandmother used to say if you lived where you were born, and you got to be fifty, you saw every few miles the place where a soul you’d known left this world.’
This shares the stories of multiple people living among the Latinx community, including a motorcycle cop who has to endure the seemingly neverending stupid comments made by those he pulls over for one legitimate reason or another. When he tells a man he’s just caught raping a young girl that he’s law enforcement, that he needs him to walk away from the girl and put his hands on a rock, the “man” responds with ’I need you to turn around and head back to Mexico.’ A cop who will forever after have a secret he can never share.
’But my dad’s words were always in my head—Johnny, there’s bones buried in every canyon in California. Algo muerto. Vacas, linces, perros. Coyotes, conejos, chavalos.’ ‘Something dead. Cows, lynxes, dogs. Coyotes, rabbits, kids.’
The stories of others are shared, as well. Merry Jordan, a neonatal nurse, her son Tenefire, shot by police, now brain dead beside her because they thought he had a gun. An abandoned baby found by an undocumented maid in a hotel room. A woman who lives in an exclusive neighborhood, Los Feliz. And a woman whose husband has left her and their children for a younger woman. Lives turned upside down, lives lived in fear.
While often heartbreaking, there is also beauty in the way this is shared, along with a realistic portrayal of loss, grief, racism, as well as the impact of COVID on all during these last few years.
Published: 15 Mar 2022
Many thanks for the ARC provided by Farrar, Straus and Giroux