Some guilty pleasures on this side of the border by Moisés R. Delgado
In “Some guilty pleasures on this side of the border,” Moisés R. Delgado curates a list of commercial delights. The list seems lighthearted, at first. An amalgamation of Diet Coke, fast food restaurants, and Megalodon movies. Then the list radiates, telling the story of an immigrant community in Nebraska. Soon the reader understands what would be lost if Doña Chuy, Don Saúl, or, most importantly, the narrator’s mother were forced to leave the country. Raising Cane’s is not just juicy fried chicken, but home. Nothing is insignificant. “The simple things help define a life,” Delgado writes in his author’s note. “It’s what we know, have known, and change is always felt.” These spaces and objects, which may seem insignificant, have meaning beyond measure. —CRAFT
Nearly two decades in this country and Ross would make it difficult for our mom to leave if she had to leave tomorrow. It’s where she found her favorite purse—plum purple, faux leather, a simple yet elegant tulip print. And for only twenty dollars! Jesús would be held back by the triple stacked, double American cheese, ketchup, mustard, no pickle burger from Dude’s. Our dad, before he died, would probably have said he’d hesitate returning to Mexico because of the country radio station. Or maybe because of his truck. One of our tías would miss going to the movies to watch the Fast & Furious movies, the Megalodon movies, the movies with explosions and punches and fire and more explosions and more cars. The louder the engines, the bigger the explosions, the better the movie. Our other tía would miss her church. And our other, other tía would miss the gossip after church. Give those churchgoing moms some cafecito, a concha or cuernito, and they’ll spill it all. Our tíos, as you’d expect, would miss their trucks. Sure, they could buy more trucks across the border if they had to leave it all behind, but there’s just something special about your first. Our cousin who had crossed the border when he was three would miss Dave & Buster’s. Beer and coin pushers. What more could you ask for? Doña Fernanda from the apartments down the street would miss Wheel of Fortune. Her husband would miss the word search games in the Sunday newspaper. Doña Chuy from the same apartment complex would miss Taco Bell because it was easy to stop by after work and not have to hear her kids complain about what to eat. Doña Gertrudis would miss Chipotle and Don Saúl would miss Raising Cane’s. Doña Toledo would miss floating around Target. Her husband would miss the weather reports on TV. Not unique to El Norte, but it was here in Omaha where he learned to value them because the weather changes all year round. Snow, rain, hail, fog, thunder, lighting, flooding, tornadoes—he liked tuning into the news at night and being prepared. Other hesitations from the apartments: pine trees, Nebraska Furniture Mart, Runza, Hostess CupCakes, bagels with cream cheese, lottery scratch cards, and more first trucks. From the house on the corner, Doña Perla would miss the moms in her English study group. Leaving them would be like leaving family behind all over again, and she didn’t know if she could do that again. Both Doña Marías, the one from two blocks south, and the one from three blocks west, had similar answers. One María would hurt to say goodbye to her neighbor, and the other María might not be able to leave, if she had to leave, unless the women she worked with at the thrift store agreed to leave with her. Meaning it wasn’t happening. For G. next door, it would be Diet Coke. It’s just different here. For the janitor at our school, it would be American football. Go Cornhuskers! One of the lunch ladies at our school would have to take Thanksgiving with her if she had to leave. She claimed the turkey served at the faculty and staff party every year was on another level. The other lunch ladies would have to think twice about Keeping Up with the Kardashians, The Bachelor, Bath & Body Works (the deals!), Cold Stone, the horchata from Taquería Tijuana, and the esquimales from Helados Santa Fe. Ruby and I were citizens, and we had never been to Mexico, but if our mom left then we’d leave too, obviously. But for a second before leaving, I’d turn back, and yes it can all be replaced, but I’d miss our house, and Ruby would miss Omaha…or those cherry sour belts from La Venadita. She’d think about those often after leaving.
MOISÉS R. DELGADO is a Latino writer from Nebraska, and holds an MFA from the University of Arizona. He is a prose editor for The Adroit Journal. His prose appears in fugue, SmokeLong Quarterly, Indiana Review, Split Lip, and elsewhere. Find him on Twitter @MoisesTheHuman.
Featured image by Austin Curtis, courtesy of Unsplash.
