River of Angels

by Alejandro Morales

  The women’s conversation touched all aspects of living in Los Angeles. At times they commented on their husbands’ businesses, but Allison demurred from speaking about the jobs they were doing or the contracts they had signed. She felt disadvantaged speaking to Agatha about business because she knew Agatha’s background entailed handling the accounting for Sun Construction. It was a fact that Agatha knew how the companies ran, how they were managed, how the two corporations competed for the best construction contracts in the city. Agatha handled the finances for the company and she knew about the competition from Keller Construction. So they seldom talked about their family businesses. It came up on occasion, but today the two talked about their homes, the domestic help that they could not do without. Several pieces of furniture, two mahogany desks that Agatha had purchased, became the path that led them to consider how well Agatha’s children were doing in school.

  “Of course Albert and Dame Marie deserve beautiful desks made for them. They will learn even more with those desks,” Allison said and looked about at the magnificent decor. Several men glanced over to them and smiled.

  “It’s Uncle Philip who worries me. He wants the children to attend another school. Marlborough is not good enough for him. He said that the school is too lax in whom they admit.”

  Agatha listened carefully.

  “His ideas are absurd, but Ernest listens to him. He attends meetings where they talk about what they call the Aryan future of Los Angeles.”

  Agatha could no longer restrain a response. “I don’t like that talk. I don’t care if it’s coming from your Uncle Philip or anyone else. It’s bad, evil thinking. I don’t think those nativist groups are helpful to any of us. They don’t help our business. Our workers are the people these groups attack. What would we do without those laborers?”

  “Uncle Philip blames Louise’s math difficulty on Marlborough. Agatha, I was thinking that Albert should help her. He’s doing so well in mathematics. Do you think he can tutor her? Would he do it? I hope so! He’s been accepted at so many universities, hasn’t he?”

  “He’s decided on USC to study engineering. He wants to be close to home, close to us, to continue to work with his father.”

  “Agatha, that’s wonderful. Please ask him to help Louise.”

  In the late afternoon, Allison drove them home. They headed west, under a brilliant crimson sky, following Olympic Boulevard to Hancock Park. Los Angeles, covered with a halo of red, orange and purple hues, inspired in Agatha and Allison confidence about the future for them and their families.

  THEIR FEET RESISTED the cool crystal water running above the sandy river bed. His feet softly pushed her feet away against the current. She pushed her feet firmly against his. They moved closer together on the boulder hidden in the middle of a patch of high thick reed grass. They thrilled to the sensation of their feet touching under the cool water, the smoothness of their calves against the other’s skin; they turned to kiss, pressing their mouths together, listening to each other’s deeper and deeper breaths. Under the warm sun, holding hands, they walked to where the river ran shallow, their steps splashing in the early afternoon on a spring day after a hard winter, with snowcaps on the San Bernardino mountains and a significant dusting on the San Gabriel range. In the valleys and in the basin, rain had filled the streams and deep arroyos that joined the Los Angeles and San Gabriel rivers. Every field small and large was covered with wild grass, contrasted with yellow, white and orange flowers. They walked slowly, carefully through the lush green brush. They paused to hold one another again. They listened to the peaceful silence, only interrupted by the call of mockingbirds, the humming of bumblebees, the gurgling brook running away from the river. Here in this place the winter water trickled, mocking its clandestine escape into the dark rocky spaces of the deep canyons of greenery opening to the west and south to the sea. Albert and Louise moved deeper into the high brush and thick ferns that they separated to get to a place where only their eyes helped them remove her blouse, his shirt, to embrace again, a sweet kiss shared. She traced his lips with her tongue; he moved his lips upon her nipples. He opened his mouth desiring to breathe her into his breast, into his body.

  His eyes opened wide. “Oh no!” he sighed.

  “Quick, Albert! Quick!” Louise pressed him against her. He wasn’t heavy. His shoulders, his hips trembled as he raised himself to an eternity in minutes. Louise would not let him go.

  “Don’t. Stay like you are.” She moved her hips under him. Her hands moved over his buttocks, quickening him, helping him help her. For about an hour they lay together on the scores of reeds they had cut to make a dry green nest. The slight weight of their bodies molded the reeds and earth beneath them into a comfortable resting place, a natural site for star-crossed lovers, Albert and Louise. He helped her stand up. She gathered herself and slipped into her skirt while he rushed to slide on his pants, throw on his shirt. Sitting down again, he tied his shoelaces. Albert looked up at Louise, the intense carnal mystery; a sensation too strong to resist bound them together. They were slaves to the joyous desire they shared for one another that grew more intense when they were apart. They could never fully satisfy this passion. Only when Albert and Louise were intimate could they partly quench for a short time the burning hunger for each other. Their love was so heavy on their hearts that they worried for each other. They worried about the heavy heart the other carried.

  “Don’t love me so much,” Louise warned Albert.

  “I feel so sad for you. Why did you choose me to love?” he often asked Louise.

  Often they had walked this path that meandered by the River Mother’s house, the strange house built with found objects.

  “The River Mother is a natural engineer,” Albert chuckled.

  “An architect.”

  Louise placed her hand over her eyes to protect herself from the bright sunlight reflecting from the River Mother’s dwelling. The sunlight splintered in all directions from the house. People who lived in the hills surrounding the Los Angeles basin claimed to be able to see a radiant glow from the river.

  Albert was proud of the structure Sol had helped construct.

  As they climbed up to the Ríos Adobe, where they had parked Albert’s truck, he said, “The River Mother has lived by the river for many years. Nobody knows for how long.”

  “How do you know so much about her?”

  “She saved my Uncle Sol’s life. She took him in for some years.”

  “What happened to him?”

  “Come on, Louise, we need to get home. I’m worried. Sooner or later our parents are going to ask questions. They’re going to find out.”

  “You worry too much. What will they discover? That we love each other. It’s their fault. They brought us together.” Louise jumped into the truck and slammed the door.

  Albert and Louise did not speak a word all the way home. Albert had told his mother that he would pick up Louise from school and take her to the library at USC to study, then he would drive Louise home. Albert and Louise had done this several times, but this time they were over an hour late. What would he tell Louise’s mother? He would see Mrs. Keller because that evening, like every Tuesday and Thursday evening for almost a year, Albert was scheduled to tutor Louise in mathematics, algebra, geometry and other subjects.

  In the opinion of Allison Keller, Albert Rivers was a superb tutor. He was a teacher who helped raise her daughter’s grades in mathematics and other subjects to near the highest rank of her class. Louise’s schoolwork had improved beyond what Allison had expected. Her daughter Louise would go to the university. She was in her last year at Marlborough and bound to go to an Ivy League college. Allison had a long-standing legacy at Bryn Mawr College, but if her Uncle Philip had any say, his niece would attend the University of Southern California. There she could study whatever she wanted—even engineering. It was common knowledge that at many universities, even if women were allowed to enter, they could not study such subjects as engineering. Un
cle Philip assured the family that at USC Louise and her sisters would be allowed to study any subject they desired.

  “The girls will have a Philip Keller scholarship when they attend USC.”

  Uncle Philip was proud of his offer to his nephew’s family. He did not want the girls to worry about tuition. He guaranteed that all costs would be covered. All was already planned. There would be no excuse. He made sure of that.

  At seven that evening when Albert knocked on the door of the Keller’s residence, it was Louise who answered.

  “My parents are gone. Dad came home early and they went to a business dinner. Emily and Gloria are going to your house to study with Dame Marie.”

  As the door closed behind them, their hearts started to race. They were alone again.

  ABOUT A MONTH after their lunch at the Biltmore, Agatha had heeded Allison’s requests and sent Albert to the Kellers’ home to tutor Louise. The Kellers’ house was one block away from the Rivers’ and sat back on two acres of well-landscaped grounds of plush green grass, pruned shrubs and trees, with islands of flowers which caught the eye and added color exactly where it was needed. Every blade of grass in its place, not one weed showed itself in the flower beds. On that first tutoring visit Albert had walked leisurely up the long stone driveway. A crew of three Mexican men worked at different sections of the front yard. One watered the lawn. Albert acknowledged each man. No doubt, the house was well kept. Precisely organized, everything had a place. It was spotless. As a boy Albert and his sister had visited the house to play with the Keller girls, but he had never paid attention before to how well-kept the grounds were and how each stone leading to the front door, and the front door itself, the threshold, and the foyer, and the rooms appeared pristine, as if they had been bought or arranged that day. Albert liked this feeling. It was the way his mother kept their home.

  Mrs. Keller immediately took Albert’s arm and escorted him to the large kitchen, where he said hello to Mr. Ernest Prescott Keller and his uncle, Philip Keller, who did not take his eyes off the young tutor.

  “Louise is in the study. She has all her books. Please emphasize the algebra. Right this way. I’ll have Ernestina bring you two some lemonade.”

  Upon entering, Albert’s sight quickly took in the long narrow room with a high stone and brick fireplace, French doors facing out to a splendid garden with a pool and various beds of roses in full bloom. The study had high walls, vaulted ceilings and dark-stained oak cases filled with books. Louise turned the pages of a leather-bound book on a marble table. She instantly sensed his presence and stood up. “Albert!” She pronounced his name confidently and a little loudly. She was elated that he had come.

  “Work hard, you two.” Mrs. Keller exited by way of one of the French doors to the garden.

  Louise offered her hand. Albert took it. Throughout that evening he never let go. She never resisted. They smiled at Ernestina, who came with the lemonade. Their hands continued to touch under a green opened folder that moved like a crab toward the cold crystal pitcher. Ernestina gave the floating green folder a perplexed look. Louise waved good-bye and opened an algebra book. They both moved closer and looked down at the pages of algebraic equations. Their eyes met. They came closer, but he resisted his wanting and she withstood her desire. Louise took his hand and wove her fingers in his. He caressed her arm. She leaned her breast into his shoulder. A half hour went by, and they simply stared at each other. They studied each other’s face. She touched his cheek and he leaned on her shoulder in an effort to stand up. She pulled him down.

  “We must study your algebra, Louise. We must study!”

  Albert wondered what to say, how to respond to how his body pushed him toward her. Now, being alone with her, he completely focused his attention on Louise, the young woman whom he had to teach. The first night he stayed almost two hours. They studied algebra problems, which Louise learned how to solve easily. She learned quickly and accelerated the pace to have more time with him. Both families were happy with the progress Louise made with Albert’s tutoring. The tutoring sessions usually were about two hours long. At times they lasted three hours. With Albert’s teaching, Louise excelled in school. Only Uncle Philip questioned why Albert and Louise needed more than an hour to study. He expressed his suspicions to Ernest and Allison, but Allison responded that she knew what was best for her children.

  “The boy is not one of us. He has dark skin! Are you blind?” Uncle Philip protested.

  Despite Uncle Philip’s misgivings, Louise’s math skills improved so much that Allison planned a dinner party for the Keller and the Rivers families to celebrate her daughter’s success and to recognize Albert for his excellent teaching. She also wanted to show Uncle Philip that his doubts about Albert had been wrong all along. Of course, this little revenge plan she kept to herself.

  “Ernest and I want Albert to continue tutoring Louise. She is now at the top of her class,” Allison announced to the families, including Sol and Uncle Philip, who sat outside at a long rectangular table that Sol had made for Allison’s party. On that warm October day Ernest and Oakley started a small bonfire in a fire pit made out of Simons bricks. Their neighbor Walter Robey Simons, owner of brickyards, had been building a brick patio on the side of his house. Sol had talked to the Simons workers and told them about the party. He mentioned that he thought it would be nice to have a brick fire pit in case the weather turned cool. Mr. Simons overheard the conversation, and the next day he had some of his men deliver enough bricks to build the pit at the Kellers’ residence. Sol wanted to pay the men, but they refused to accept the money and offered to build a nice barbecue for la señora Keller in time for the party. No money was ever exchanged. It was Sol’s good nature, his good spirit that had enchanted the workers. They were happy to work for him and for la señora Keller. After their first meeting, Sol visited the Simons’ workers often and became good friends with several of them.

  After dinner the families sat around the fire and watched the sunset and the full moon rising orange into an early evening sky. Albert and Louise sat directly across from each other around the fire pit. They watched one another through the yellow flames rising from the orange and oak wood that Uncle Philip had tossed into the pit. Louise recalled her uncle once saying that oak and particularly orange wood burned long and intensely. Louise felt the heat rising from her feet. She pushed away her blond hair from her forehead as she fixed her gaze through the flames on her handsome young lover. She reached out a little closer to the brick circle of burning wood, toward the flames that jumped and merged into each other like weaving fingers ascending, rising like roots from the heart of the fire that fed and spread its intensity under the wondrous Southern California sky. Louise noticed Albert smile as he tossed an orange wood log into the fire. He gladly fed the fire while he watched the girl who made his heart jump like the blistering tongues that licked his brown hands.

  Oakley and Agatha sat next to Allison and Ernest. Uncle Philip moved his chair between the couples. Sol, comfortable in a white wicker chair on the porch, stared, fixated on the wondrous yellow moon. His heart listened to the families who surrounded him. Strangely, he heard the beating hearts of the animals above and below. Albert looked beyond the Keller’s backyard, beyond the garden to the green fields. Small houses dotted the open spaces as well as new imposing mansions. Two cars drove up to one of those new estates and stopped in the long drive. Two well-dressed couples entered the Edegart mansion. Lights went on and life filled those many rooms. Albert noticed the roses, birds of paradise, lavender, orange blossoms blending with the wisteria vines to form a multi-hued tapestry behind his beloved Louise.

  “There are too many, Oakley.” Ernest Keller spoke loud enough to catch Albert’s attention.

  “They keep making more—Ford, Chevrolet, Chrysler, Plymouth, Desoto, Cadillac. People keep buying cars and congesting our streets,” Oakley responded.

  “Not everyone should have a car. They can’t drive well and, worse than that, they can�
��t afford it,” Allison interjected.

  “Thousands and more thousands will be manufactured, making it necessary to build more streets and highways. There are more cars here than in any other city in the country,” Uncle Philip added. He sat up straight. “Even the poorest are buying cars and trucks. Every working Mexican has a Ford pickup!”

  “Better roads, we have the space. Better roads, bigger and better bridges are what we need,” Ernest said.

  “Roads and bridges, I agree, but don’t cement the river for cars and trucks.” Oakley’s expression was more of a plea than a comment. He tossed a piece of wood into the fire pit.

  “Are they really going to do that?” Agatha asked. She got up and filled everyone’s glasses.

  “People voted for a river truck freeway to run from the harbor to San Fernando. Trucks will run on the cemented river—when there’s no water in it.”

  “Oakley, I heard the trucks will run along the side of the river on an elevated high speed thoroughfare,” Allison said.

  “The city needs more concrete bridges over the river. The bonds we voted for finally will open bids on the proposed bridges. Where does Sun stand, Oakley?” In Ernest’s voice there was a tone of challenge.

  Oakley sat quietly, not responding. He continued tossing small pieces of wood into the fire.

  Agatha filled the void. “Sun Construction will bid on the bridges. We’ll continue building the bridges. That’s our business. Oakley’s family and mine have constructed or financed bridges over that fickle river for over fifty years. Why should we stop now?”

  Agatha stood up next to Albert who, along with Louise, had been listening to their parents’ conversation and had decided to join them on their side of the fire pit.

  “For fifty years, ha! Then you should know that for this city to thrive we need to clear out those Mexican colonies that hug the river bank. Those places and people … a blight, filthy breeders of disease. Sure, build your bridges, but get those Mexicans out of there!” Uncle Philip declared, while forcing a large log of orange wood onto the fire, causing embers to jump up, making the children quickly back away.