The Quest
There once was a small, tucked away village in southern Mexico. It was a town of small dreams and big hopes. The town is primarily inhabited by women and children, as the majority of the men have traveled far to the United States to find what work, in hopes that they can make enough money to send home to sustain their families, but some never make it. Their travels take them away for months, even years, and some never make it across the treacherous, unforgiving desert. All in the effort to somehow, someway, carve out a meek existence in a harsh world.
On the outskirts of town, on a little plot of farmland, there lives a woman and her son, Santiago. This young man has been struggling since the departure of his father, who was one of the many to travel outside the village to the States to find work. Santiago was close to his father, and had many a time, shared his dreams with him. Santiago longs to fulfill his dreams of making his own trek to the U.S. to find his treasure, the American dream. His fears of leaving his mother keep him in the village, tending to the few animals and meager crops they raise. His duty to her keeps his heart in a cage, his dreams in a state of hibernation.
He hears the call, the call of his dreams; they speak to him. He pushes them down, deep down, because he knows, he cannot leave. Not now. In the neighboring village there lives a girl, the daughter of a prominent merchant. This girl has flagged his soul. She encapsulated his heart. To him, she is part of the dream. She is as beautiful as any woman he has laid eyes upon. Santiago would buy cattle from her father, and knows all too well that he looks at him as nothing more than a peasant, eking out a sustainable life on livestock and corn. He sees the way Santiago looks at his daughter, and thinks to stifle any inclination of a budding relationship. All this, Santiago is painfully aware of. Still, his dreams well within him, and he feels a sense of urgency that he cannot place.
Santiago dreams of a blue sky, clean air, and lush green fields. Sometimes, in his daily life, food is not readily available. In his minds eye, he pictures opening a large door, and within it, lays aisles and aisles of food. Fresh food, frozen food, even dried food. It all makes his mouth water. In the village Santiago inhabits, cars are only for the rich, and they are a minority here in his small village. In his dream, he has his own car. He has it and a house too. In a neighborhood with other houses, just like his. Everything is new, and clean, and there are people meandering about, working on there yard or washing their car. They aren’t scrounging for food or work, because here, in his dream, that is plentiful. Life in his dream is filled with all the things that his reality lacks. He ponders this, and a wide grin spills across his face. He feels, if only for a moment, replenished, and knows that at least for another day, he can continue to suppress the urgency of his dream. He knows however, that this cannot go on forever, and that he must take action, somehow, someway. He only lacks the courage to abandon his duties here, as a son. As the man of the house.
One day, while tending his herd of cattle, the sky begins to swirl and twist in agony, and an ominous cloud fills the sky. This is strange, thinks Santiago, though he takes no chances and takes to the cattle to the nearest cover. After several flashes of heat lightning, the thunder rolls in followed by the rain. Santiago loves the smell just before it rains, it reminds him of the underlying magic of the world, and also of his father. The elements of his dream begin to resonate soundly within him. He believes that he has always had a special connection with the elements, and for that he is grateful. As he ponders all this, the rain has been washing away the afternoon heat all the while. Off in the distance, Santiago believes he can make out a silhouette across the field, though cannot tell exactly what shape the figure takes, as the mist from the field stifles his view. The figure gets closer, and it becomes apparent that it is a man.
The man continues to walk directly towards him, and for a moment, he is filled with a chilling fear. The possibilities arise within Santiago’s mind, and he begins to realize that he could be curious, more than afraid, of this man that approaches. Santiago feels comfortable enough to know what his next move might be if this man means him harm. So, he waits for the man to cross the next ridge. The man appears quickly, and Santiago feels an ease overtake him, and he begins to walk towards the man, who is now yards away.
As he comes into view, it becomes apparent that this person, this aforementioned figure, has a world weary malaise about him and this is conveyed too with his body language. A strange sense of familiarity raises the hairs on the back of Santiago’s neck. The absurdity of this moment has only calmed Santiago into lull and his thoughts have taken on a rationality he hasn’t felt capable of for a very long time. As the man approaches and holds out his hand to shake Santiago’s, he lifts his hat, and reveals his identity. It is Santiago’s father. In this moment, the clouds dissipate and the suns rays beam down as if the earth itself were ablaze. For a moment, all color fades, and the surrounding environment becomes a surrealistic landscape of memory. Santiago is taken aback, and accidentally recoils with surprise, as this was last person he expected to encounter. How can this be? Why are you here? What took you so long? Santiago abandons his father’s hand and lunges to hug him. He feels the warmth of the desert heat.
His father smiles, his eyes creasing into tranquil pools of azure, and his smile as fresh and bright as his mothers’ linen. “I have traveled far to find you.” Santiago’s’ eyes brighten, and his brow unfurls, as these are not the first words he expected to hear. He is now completely overtaken by the situation, and decides he is on an adventure, and should he accept this invitation? Yes, his subconscious replies, take a chance, you might learn something. He is still trying to process his fathers’ appearance, when he hears, “….I have died in my effort to find a better life for you and your mother, and I have failed you my son. Though this is not without sacrifice, that you shall find your way, and make your own destiny. You will make your dream a reality, and your life will be full.
The next day, Santiago awakes with fervor, and almost leaps from his bed. As he has done a thousand times before, he propels himself to the floor with a gymnast’s bounce on the mattress, only this time, the support board within the beds frame snaps with a loud ‘Kra-kow!’, and the entire foot of the bed drops to the floor. Eh, old bed anyway, I won’t be taking it with me where I’m going. It is a sign, for me to follow my dream. His mother calls his name, and he dresses and walks to the kitchen, where she has prepared his breakfast. Over breakfast, Santiago knows what he must do, and he tells his mother of his plans to make the journey to the next town over to acquire work, in order to begin saving for his trek to the U.S.. A somber tone washes over her. She fights back a tear, and gives him her blessing, and assures him she will be taken care of, as their neighbor has been looking after them regularly. As Santiago packs his bags, his thoughts are guilt ridden, though this is a price he must pay, if he is to pursue his dream. Follow his heart, and fulfill his soul. As he walks down the long road, his mother waves to him, and he waves back, hoping this is not the last time he bodes farewell to his mother.
After several hours of walking, an old 57’Chevy pick-up truck meanders up the hill behind him, familiar Mariachi blaring through the cheap speakers. The bed was loaded with hay, and a few workers. The truck slows, dust billowing up behind it, stifling the afternoon sun, and providing seconds of shade. The driver motions to Santiago to come over. Santiago walks over, obliged that someone would take more than a second to even acknowledge him. The driver tells him where they are headed, as luck would have it, they would pass directly through the town where Santiago was bound for. They would be happy to drop him off. Santiago was relieved, so he hopped in the back and hunkered down for the journey ahead. One of the workers in the back was Santiago’s age, and they immediately hit it off. They spoke to each of their plans, and decided they would function as a team.
Once they reached the town, it was bustling with activity, as it was one of the larger villages on the outskirts of Puerto Escondido and functioned as a hub. There were many shady figures walking about, and danger seemed to be in the air. The pick-up dropped off the two boys, and they began to walk towards a fountain in the center of the town square. The other boy asked Santiago if he had any money, as they could get something to drink. He explained that he would meet his uncle later, and would repay Santiago at that time. Santiago gave the boy most of what he had, and he went to buy some drinks. Santiago stood next to the fountain, admiring the motion of the water, feeling its cool breeze and being grateful that he wasn’t still walking along the long road. The sun beat down on his neck, and he remembered the boy with his money. He began to walk towards the store, and realized that he had just been robbed. This occurred to him, and his anxiety levels rose. He realized that he would have to go to Veronica’s house and see if she would loan him a little money, so that he could pursue his dream. He knew she was his only hope.
So, after searching for a bit, but knowing that his money had flown with the wind, he ventured down the hill towards the Veronicas house. He hoped he would not have to encounter her father, as he would never understand and after the little bit he had already been through, didn’t feel like being subjugated to anyone’s opinion.
He met with Veronica, and she gave him her savings, which would sustain him for the trip to Puerto Escondido, where he was sure to find work, or maybe better yet, a way into the U.S… With a long kiss, and an embrace that seems to last a millennium, he resumed his trek. She gave him some wine and a jacket so that the desert air wouldn’t harm him, inside or out. He looked back one last time, and set off. The night was cold, but because the road ran next to the coast, the sound of the crashing waves combined with the stars provided more than enough fodder to keep his mind occupied. He thought about his trip so far, and was displeased by the theft, but endeared by Veronica’s attempt to make him feel better. As he walked, and thought, he soon found himself on the cusp of Escondido, a city of great industry. Contamination rose from the factories and into the morning sky. He was not at all surprised to see so much activity, though he had only heard stories of such places, and never visited them in person. He stood on the dune, overlooking the town, and wondered what encounters he would endure to ensure the delivery of his dream. He took a step, and all at once, he felt as though he had crossed a portal and made a conscious decision not to quit. This single act only acted as a catalyst to galvanize his resolve. In no time at all, he was amidst all the hustle and bustle of the city. The street vendors offered everything from exotic foods to drugs to brochures that advertised various brothels and the like. People stood on every corner, offering up the menus to the restaurants they worked for, though he could afford none of it, and the smell only tortured his empty stomach. His insides cried out. He could do nothing other than search for something that wouldn’t empty his pockets. He eventually moved away from the heavily crowded streets and into a quieter quarter that made him feel a little more alone, but a bit more confident that he would be able to acquire something to eat.
Upon turning the next corner, which seems to have taken forever, he spots a sign over a diner that looks familiar. “Velazquez’s” it reads. He remembers a family in his village by that same name, and wonders if his luck is this good. Could it be? He opens the door and it turns out to be Mr. Velázquez himself, serving Café con leche to a particularly strange looking man. It’s a small place, with not much more than four or five tables. Santiago takes a seat at the bar, and notices that Mr. Velázquez recognizes him. A smile beams across his face, and they both exchange formal greetings and begin to talk about Santiago’s journey, when, out of the blue, the strange looking patron motions Mr. Velázquez over to him. Santiago overhears them talking about some work the man has just finished, and is looking for someone to help him out. He gives Velazquez a piece of paper with a number on it, and leaves. As Mr. Velázquez returns, Santiago questions him about the man. He explains that he is looking for work, and is desperately trying to amass enough collateral to leave Escondido and cross over to the United States. Is there anything he can do?
Hesitantly, Mr. Velazquez offers up the number. He expresses his concern for Santiago, but assures him, this type of work will get him the money he needs, as well as the connection to get across the border. Santiago cannot believe his luck. He immediately finds a phone booth and makes the call. The voice on the other end of the line directs him to a warehouse down by the waterfront. The voice says he has 45 minutes to get to the warehouse across town. The ‘project’ has been in planning for several weeks, and cannot accept delay. Santiago runs back to Velazquez’s and asks for directions, which he gets promptly. “Via con Dios!” exclaims Mr. Velázquez. Santiago nods and begins to make his way across town to find the warehouse. He avoids several possible mishaps, and trudges on. A bus almost hits him and a man with a cart yells at him to, “get back in there and make the donuts! Don’t you know what time it is?” He cannot believe they let crazy people wander the streets, but with so much people in such a big city, these things are bound to occur.
Finally, he makes it. With ten minutes to spare, he practically falls into the foyer of the warehouse, and sees an old rotary telephone on an empty desk. No chair, no receptionist, just a phone and desk. Other than these two items, the warehouse appears empty. The phone rings. After the 9th or 10th ring, he picks it up. The same voice as before is on the other end, telling him to go down to dock number 13 and get on the ship named The Myorca. “…..follow the ramp up, and wait inside, until a heavily tattooed man with one eye calls your number, which is 7. Follow him, as he will have the answers you are searching for.”
Over the course of the next several months, Santiago learns the ins and outs of the business of smuggling. He has accidentally married himself with the likes of some of the most notorious pirates in the Mexican underground, but he has earned their trust, through hard work and integrity. They recognize in him the need to succeed, no matter the cost, as they have all been there at one time or another. They are professionals, and take it upon themselves to mentor Santiago. He is, in a sense, moving up the ladder and can see how something like this line of work could capture a mans heart and render it impossible to do anything else in the world. Months go by.
After all this time, something happens that reminds Santiago of his journey, and the reason he is on a quest in the first place. The pirates only work at night, in the pitch black of the ocean, secrets are done and treasures are found. One particular evening, the seas swell with the bombastic fervor of a bull gone wild. They toss the Myorca about like a child’s’ toy. A wave, the size of a factory, rises above the bow and overtakes several of the crew members. Santiago is on the bridge, and sees one man who had been kind to him struggling to hold on. Santiago races below, ties himself to the main mast, and throws himself out on deck to reach for the man. They connect, and Santiago hauls him up.
The man cannot thank Santiago enough, and tells him he will do anything for him, just name the price. “I want to get to San Francisco, it is my dream.” The man looked at Santiago with an accusing stare,”…that is all you want? After seeing the extent of pleasures & riches wrought upon other men aboard this ship, and you wish for San Francisco?” Santiago’s gaze is stoic, and the man realizes that this is truly important to the boy, and vows his allegiance to Santiago, and will do whatever possible to acquire information and permit the execution of this dream. Just then, another huge wave comes over the bow, and takes with it, a host of crew members, namely Santiago and his new friend. Santiago frantically scrambles for the nearest foothold, to his horror, nothing catches, and he washes off the hull of the ship.
Chaos ensues, and amidst the screaming and deafening crash of the waves, Santiago sees his hopes and dreams flash before him, like bittersweet fragments that never saw the light of day, and never will. This is it. The end is here, and I die an unfulfilled man, thought Santiago. This cannot be! How can it end like this? A monstrous wave engulfs him and for a moment all thoughts are on trying to stay afloat and live. Another wave and suddenly, THWACK! The line pulls tight and for a moment, he finds himself wondering if he has been severed in half. AHA! The line he tied himself with, to the mast, has saved him! He feels a tug, and is spun around to see the crew members heaving the line on which he is tied. They yell to him to hold on, and eventually, bring him aboard. Santiago is stunned, and given some blankets to cover up with. He falls into a long, heavy sleep.
His slumber is dream ridden. He dreams of being back in the sea, and what a watery grave would actually feel like. He sees himself, at the bottom of the ocean, tethered to the rope that has somehow become part of the sea bottom. He sees the metaphor in this, and is grateful for the gift of insight to move on from this smuggling business. While on the oceans’ floor though, he has another encounter with his father. He comes to him, floating out of the murky green like some nautical spirit.
For the next several days, Santiago’s thoughts turn inwards. He has had a brush with death, and were it not for the man he saved, he would have surely perished himself. Though that man was lost to the ocean, the captain saw Santiago’s heroic efforts, and granted him passage to San Francisco and an abundance of wages. They hate to see such a good prospect go straight, explains the captain. “We had such hopes for you lad, high hopes, that you might commandeer this ship someday!” said the pirate captain. Santiago knew that he could have such a fate, and for that he might even enjoy such an adventure, but he must remain on course. He has strayed, and this one event has set him right. He is back on course, and nothing will stop him now. As he was buoyed about in the ocean, for what seems like a small eternity, he re-encountered his dream. He saw his father, and all the dreams he sacrificed and in the end, never accomplished. He didn’t want his life to end that way, with him never bringing all these intentions to reality. He would make it to S.F., and he would try his hand in making his dreams tangible. This, he knows.
Three weeks later, the Myorca arrives in San Francisco. The city is astounding from a distance. The Golden Gate Bridge makes Santiago shudder at the milestones of man. He cannot believe that he has come from such small confines, to this, a metropolis on the ocean. The mist surrounding the ports only add to the mystique Santiago has for such a vista. He can practically taste his dream, and it is sweet.
Once at port, each crew member disembarks and goes their separate way. The captain catches up with Santiago, and gives him a bag of money and wishes good luck on the lad. Santiago is impressed, and knew the pirate captain had taken a shine to him; he really did hate to see Santiago go. The money the captain gave Santiago is enough to fund his dream.
He is quickly enamored with the city, and in several months, his dream is realized. All except Veronica. He still thinks of a day when he can reunite with her. His father would have been proud of his son, who has started and import/export operation and is rapidly developing into a profitable business. Everything seems to be in place, then one day as he is closing up for the day, a tall man in a dark suit and black tie walks up to his car. Upon seeing this, Santiago approaches the man, and suddenly, the dream begins to dissipate. The man is an immigration officer. He begins to question this young man, who is rapidly making money and a name for himself. When Santiago cannot produce proof of citizenship, the officer takes him into custody and he is sent to a holding cell. Through a lot of red tape, and months on end in various confines, Santiago is eventually sent back to his village. His assets are liquidated; any proof of his thriving business is destroyed. He doesn’t even exist on paper. His dream, his quest, is over. He doesn’t know where to turn. He is afraid to return home, a defeated man. He learned so much, but doesn’t feel like he afforded himself anything of any tangible value. How can he have nothing?
When he finally sets foot in his village, he is a hero. Tales of his travels somehow made it back to his hometown, and he is now a celebrity. His village, because of his endeavors, is thriving. Its fields are again green, family’s are reunited, and above all else, his mother is doing well. She has maintained a steady income, as their cattle yielded such a good price at the market, that she was able to invest and live off the dividends. People in the village want Santiago to show them how to make their living, and he realizes that because of all his experiences, he can set up his neighbors with enough accounts to perpetuate the village into an economical boom.
More time passes, and Santiago’s village continues to flourish. Santiago has kept a watchful eye on his livestock, and from time to time, goes back to his old chores of walking them out beyond the pasture to graze in the better grasses. He finds himself guided towards that fateful spot, where the whole journey began, and the power of the place resonates in his soul. He sees a hat laying on the ground beside some scattered river rock, which seems out of place. The river is miles from here. He walks over to the hat, and recognizes it. It is his fathers’ old Stetson. A chill runs down the length of Santiago’s spine. He picks it up, and the hat seems attached to something in the ground. Santiago carefully unties the hat from a handle, sticking out of the ground. It is an old military shovel, with a steel handle emblazoned with the words ‘QUEST’ on it. Santiago tries to pull it out of the ground, but to no avail, it won’t budge. He begins to dig all around the shovel, and eventually unearths the thing. At the base of the shovel, there sits a rusted metal box. Santiago pulls it out of the ground, and is surprised by it’s weight. He cracks open the lock with the shovel head, and the box opens with a gasp of decompressed air. It must be at least 40 years old. Inside the box, under a stack of ancient Spanish coins, there resides an engraved copper plate that reads:
Love the place you live and work hard to make it better for all
Posted by enriquemelon
