“Look, Izzy. We get to float near heaven!”
I squeezed her small hand and smiled. We settled into the basket with Mr. Castillo, and within a moment, the balloon lurched forward; a blast of fire and wind and we lifted off the ground, rising into the July sky.
Maggie laughed. “That tickled my tummy.”
The ground fell away as the balloon rose higher and higher. We soared high above the earth, like a puffy cloud inching across the sky.
“Hey Maggie, we brought you a present. Actually it’s the reason for the balloon.” I pulled her yarn from the canvas bag.
Maggie pulled the ladder from my hands. She looked up toward Mateo. “It’s a ladder! You made this for me?”
“It was Izzy’s idea.”
Maggie reached up toward my ear with her hand cupped on the left side of her mouth. I bent down toward her as she whispered, “Do you think she’ll catch it?”
I nodded and smiled.
She smiled a gap-toothed grin and leaned over the edge of the basket. Closing her eyes she tossed the ladder into the wind. “Now Mommy can have her yarn back.”
The yarn drifted across the breeze, staying aloft as long as we could see it.
Faint, slow whispers clung to the breeze and as we rose higher the wind spoke clearer. Tesoro. Treasure. I turned my face to the wind and imagined Dad riding the skies in this balloon, loving the wind in his face, and the whispers on the breeze. We were the same that way. Just as I’d always imagined.
We climbed higher and higher into the heavens, and the clouds seemed close enough to touch. Maggie reached her hands out toward the sky.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
“I want a piece of a cloud.”
Mateo laughed. “You can’t catch clouds, Maggie.”
Maggie’s face fell.
“Sure you can,” I said. “Give me your hand.”
Maggie placed her hand in mine and I stretched it out toward the softest one in the sky. For just a moment the clouds seemed to stand still.
“Now close your eyes and picture that cloud right in the center of your palm.” I waited a moment. “Is it there yet?”
She nodded.
“Good.” I held open her back sack and said, “Now put it in here so you can take it home, and remember, you might not be able to see it but you can feel it. Like magic.”
Gazing at the village below, I blinked twice before I was sure. And then, I was so sure I shouted, “Mateo, do you see that?” I pointed toward the northern part of the village. “It’s the B from the map. See? Those bushes form a perfect B.” I laughed. “And remember the map said something about soaring with fire?”
Mateo’s eyes darted across the earth below. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the map. He read the directions, “‘There you must soar with fire, to see the treasure you desire.’ Izzy, you’re right! I can’t believe it. We only needed a new view to see it. Do you really think there’s a treasure down there?”
I gazed toward the village, my home, and smiled. “I’m sure of it.”
Acknowledgments
With loving gratitude to my mom, Anna, for giving me my first words, roots to keep me grounded, and wings to help me fly—you saw the light before I did; to my entire family for their love and encouragement; to my husband, Joseph, for giving me the freedom to explore the Land of Enchantment; to Alex for being the head plotmeister even during football season; to Bella for keeping Maggie alive and giving me cooler words than I could have thought up alone; and to my Julie Bear for asking me to write her a story and for reading it through in one sitting.
Special thanks to Laurie McLean, agent extraordinaire, who believed in a first-time author and who, thank goodness, was hungry the day she read the manuscript; to my tireless editor, Julie Romeis, for saying yes, and taking the time to unfold the story and excavate the magic from the pages; to everyone at Chronicle for being committed to creating a special book.
Many thanks to my generous critique partners, David (for re-reading chapters on short notice and helping me make them shine), Louise, Loretta, and Andi, for their generosity; to Char/Lena for keeping me sane during the revision process with good humor and great writing.
And in remembrance of my grandmothers, Gertrude and Priscilla: Thank you for giving me Nana.
Author’s Note
When I was a young girl, I spent time in the natural beauty of the New Mexican desert. My grandmother’s house was nestled among cottonwood trees where the rhythm of the cicada bugs hummed me to sleep on dreamy summer nights. Her tiny kitchen was filled with the sweet aromas of Mexican spices and homemade tortillas. There was something timeless about her kitchen. Perhaps it represented a moment long drawn out by the hustle and bustle of our modern hurried life or a place where magic still existed for those who believed. Today, I challenge you to slow time to a stroll and make a batch of homemade tortillas. I have included the recipe my grandmother used, although there may be a secret ingredient left out, but maybe you can create your own as you make your very own tortilla sun!
NANA’S FLOUR TORTILLAS
YIELDS 12 TORTILLAS
4 cups all-purpose flour
1½ teaspoons salt
2 teaspoons baking powder
4 tablespoons lard or shortening (sometimes my grandmother used bacon grease for this)
1½ cups warm water
Combine dry ingredients in a mixing bowl. Use a fork to cut the shortening into the dry ingredients, or do it like Nana and just use your hands. Make a well in the center and slowly add the water to form the dough. Knead as you add water to incorporate and make the dough. Knead the dough in the bowl until it is smooth. Remember, no stickies. Cover the bowl with wax paper and set aside for ten minutes.
Form the dough into small balls and flatten between your palms. Sprinkle a little bit of flour onto a smooth surface. With a rolling pin, roll each ball into a six-inch circle, or whatever shape yours turn into at first (this part takes lots of practice and they’ll taste just as good if they turn out looking like Texas). Remember to roll from the center out. Lift the dough and turn with each roll.
Heat a comal or cast-iron skillet on the stove for two to three minutes on medium to high heat. Cook tortillas on the comal, usually one to two minutes on each side. They should have brown speckles all over.
Drizzle with butter, tuck in the bottom end, roll and enjoy! Place the remainder of the cooked tortillas in between wax paper and place in a large resealable plastic bag for another day. If well-sealed, they should keep for two weeks.
Glossary
Adiós
Good-bye
Amiga
Female friend
Apúrate
Hurry up
Bonita
Pretty
Buenos días
Good Morning
Burrito
A flour tortilla wrapped around a filling, usually beans, rice, and meat
Caballeros
Slang term for a cowboy
Chile Relleno
A stuffed chile that is fried in egg batter
Cielo
Heaven/sky
Ciudad
City
Comida
Food
Cuento
Story
De nada
You’re welcome
Descanso
Memorial that honors the place of a loved one’s death
El café
Coffee
Empanada
A stuffed bread or pastry
Enchilada
Tortilla filled with meat or cheese and baked in chili sauce
Exactamente
Exactly
Fiesta
Party
Gracias
Thank you
Gracias a Dios
Thank God
¿Hablas Español?
Do you speak Spanish?
Hola
Hi
La Familia Sagrada
The Sacred Family
Loca
Crazy
Mañana
Tomorrow
Mariachi
A certain type of musical group popular in Mexico.
Mi casa es su casa
My house is your house
Mija/Mijita
Affectionate term for daughter or little girl
Mira
Look
Música
Music
Muy bien
Very good
Panaderia
Bakery
Pan dulce
Sweet bread
Piñata
Decorated papier mâché container filled with candy
Sagrada
Sacred
Saltillo
Mexican floor tile
Santa Ana
Mother of Mary, grandmother of Jesus
Santo
Saint
Señorita
Young lady
Sí
Yes
Sigame
Follow me
Sopaipilla
Puffy, deep-fried pastry often served with honey or syrup
Taco
A corn or flour tortilla wrapped around a filling, often beef or chicken
Tamale
Traditional Latin American dish consisting of steam-cooked corn dough (masa) filled with various foods (pork, beef, chicken)
¿Tienes hambre?
Are you hungry?
Un momento
One moment
Ven
Come
Copyright © 2010 by Jennifer Cervantes.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced
in any form without written permission from the publisher.
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Cervantes, Jennifer.
Tortilla sun / by Jennifer Cervantes.
p. cm.
Summary: While spending a summer in New Mexico with her grandmother,
twelve-year-old Izzy makes new friends, learns to cook, and for the first time hears
stories about her father, who died before she was born.
eISBN: 978-0-8118-7974-3
[1. Fathers and daughters—Fiction. 2. Grandmothers—Fiction. 3. New Mexico—Fiction.] I. Title.
PZ7.C3198Tor 2010
[Fic]—dc22
2009029620
Chronicle Books LLC
680 Second Street, San Francisco, CA 94107
http://www.chroniclekids.com
Tortilla Sun Page 13