Euphoria in the Melancholic Sky

Frida", Mamá yell out. "Tu comida se está enfriando." Mama barely speak English.

I quickly run down the stairs and to the dining room. I stare at my plate.

  "Spaghetti again?" I look at Mama and she's not impressed.

She drops the rag she's holding on the table. "Your papa can't afford to get a better meal for now."

Papa can't afford any meal. The only reason we can eat spaghetti is because that's what he sells. I don't say anything. I eat.

Dad watches me as I eat. He doesn't say a word. We all eat on silence. Mamá is not a fan of silent dining tables. Not like there's anything to talk about anyway.

Mamá looks at Papa. "How'd the protesta go?"

I look at Papa too. A protest?

Papa coughs before speaking. "It wouldn't make any difference. We need more than just a protest to stop La Sombra."

I stand up. "You protested against la Sombra?" I've always known Papa made stupid decisions like making us move to this part of the state. But a protest against la Sombra has to be the stupidest thing he's ever done.

"We need a...uhmm...pista. A cue."he continues.

"Wtf," I yell.

"Lingua Frida." Mama yell.

Protesting against la Sombra, no one has ever done that. No one has tried fighting back. Well, Papa did once. He lost a finger. I look at him. I know this wouldn't turn out well.

Papa keeps talking about the protest. He looks out the window and freezes. I look too. There's a black Jeep parked outside. I know this is trouble. Men come out of the Jeep holding baseball bats. I freak out.

"Papa why tf would you want to pull a protest against la Sombra. Lemme guess, it was your idea right?"

"Now is not the time." He says and gets up. He looks at Mamá as if saying 'you know what to do ' with his eyes.