The dog days of summer were at the worst the city had seen. It was July in Laredo, TX, and the scorching heat only reminded us to keep the paletero’s number on speed dial. In our family, the window unit was all that was needed to endure the day, spending the evenings on the patio of Juany’s house – once the sun had set, and we could indulge in cafecito y galletas Maria. “Solo necesito mi bironga y mi bumbox – everything else is secondary,” she shared with her granddaughters and the kids in the unit. 

Juany was about to turn 68, and her daughters were planning a big birthday bash. Despite her age, she could give the 20-year-olds a run for their money—her energy was unparalleled. Her daily routine consisted of waking up at 5 in the morning to catch the bus 12 blocks from her house and head to work on Mines Rd. Now that three of her daughters had wed, she only had the little one to mend for. 

Juany was a prideful woman – aware of the brutal and synyster games played on the Border. She grew up in a modest household and found a good husband, but somehow could not escape the notion that she was alone. Don Chilo was too preoccupied with futbol on weekends. While his financial contributions helped them stay partly afloat, it was evident his role was numbingly and humbly, gazing through life in his wife’s direction. He was happy being told what to do and left Juany preoccupied with the burden. She didn’t have a real partner.

It had been three years since they moved to the U.S. side and had to learn to navigate life on American currency. When the landlord, a prominent dentist from Nuevo Laredo, came to knock on their door, Juany’s throat began to close. She opened the door with her head held high. 

– “Hola Don Mauricio, ¿en qué le puedo ayudar?” 

– Hola Doña Juana – vengo por la renta, hemos sido bastante flexibles. Ya necesito el dinero. 

– Ya se oiga es que acuerdese que mis patrones estan de viaje, no me han pagado. Pero ya el viernes el compadre Juan me va a prestar, aguenteme tantito. 

The next day, when heading to work, she resolved to ask her bosses for an advance. She made sure her daughters, who were joyfully planning the weekend celebration, did not notice it was the fourth month in a row she had not made rent. Between paying for Lucy’s school, keeping food on the table, and the monthly allowance paid for her fake social security, she was left with $200 short of cash, and the landlord could not wait any longer. 

When she arrived at the Richter home, filled with worries of the ledger, she failed to notice the new security system had been installed over the weekend. She waved Mrs. Richter and the baby goodbye and headed inside for her daily duties. After the most recent and scorching heat waves, she was glad to be in a space with air conditioning. She removed her clothes and began sweeping and mopping the first floor of the Victorian home.  Asi:en calzones, con unos chones nejos y rotos, dancing to the beat of Tigres del Norte. Cleaning gave her concentration and a therapeutic release to deal with the all-consuming financial burdens. 

She knew she had a solid four hours before anyone arrived. When she was cleaning – with her stereo on full blast, and no one around to interrupt her – she felt free. As if her complacent husband, her joyful but naive daughters, her vexing landlord, and her inconsiderate and irresponsible bosses did not exist. It was only at this moment of the day that she felt que no le faltaba nada. She had everything she needed right at her fingertips. (Monedita by La Santa Cecilia begins playing as she dances through the house –cleaning and going over every room). 

When Friday came, and her pockets remained empty, Don Mauricio sent Juany an eviction notice. Not that it mattered, for her beloved friends and family helped the family as they stayed in limbo. Still, she couldn’t help but question, how in all her seeming misery, the Richters were really the ones at risk. When Mrs. Richter found the security footage of her naked cleaning habits, she discovered a different kind of revelation – Mr. Richter’s business meetings were a different kind of international affairs. Juany wondered if Mrs. Richter ever had a chance to escape and offered her support. Instead of addressing the help, the Richters scoffed condescendingly and let Juany go without an advance payment. Offended by the audacity and bittered by their own prejudice.

In spite of being prominent merchants in the city, they were recovering from Mrs. Richter’s failed suicide attempt last Spring. “It’s no wonder they’re so empty. They think we’re the ones who need help. Pero hasta cuando me encuero, freed and flowing, I feel one with my soul. Regardless of how filled their closets are with the finest fabrics, and their pantries filled with the finest foods, it is they who won’t ever know the joy of having nothing to wear. The joy of ridding ourselves of the ego, because we know, que toda tragedia pasara y volvera a pasar. But our time with each other is what’s really precious,” she shared with me as we lit the last cigarette of the night and bid farewell to the old tiny blue house where eviction roamed through.