River of Angels

by Alejandro Morales

  Agatha poured hot water into two cups of mint tea, added honey and a slice of lemon. Agrepina sliced a loaf of bread, placed it on a tray and took it to the parlor, where Oakley waited for Agatha to join him. Agrepina placed the tray on a side table.

  She waited for him to respond with her name. If he did, it would be a sign that he had recovered.

  “Gracias, Agrepina, gracias.”

  As Agrepina walked by the French doors to the garden, a lizard moved into the parlor. “¡Ay!” screamed the housekeeper, startled.

  “It’s all right. Let it be, Agrepina.”

  A shaft of sunlight shimmered directly into Oakley’s wide open eyes. A shade of blue slowly opaqued his fingertips and shaded his face.

  Agrepina prepared the day’s meals, the gardeners diligently applied their skills to the day’s chores while, sitting comfortably in his chair, Oakley now moved to a place where nothing from this world, this life, could hurt him.

  OAKLEY’S SUDDEN DEATH had no impact on the Southern California Aryan Club, where Philip’s two lawyers and twenty members celebrated the expected good news from the Los Angeles County District Attorney’s Office: Philip Keller had acted in self-defense. Albert Rivers intentionally and aggressively had used his vehicle to cause bodily harm to Philip Keller. The district attorney had concluded that Philip Keller was in imminent danger for his life and had no choice but to use lethal force. The police officers, who had written the initial reports and who were sympathetic to the ideology of the Southern California Aryan Club, suggested to Philip Keller that, this being his second reprieve, he should consider going away on vacation.

  “Don’t you see you’re becoming a target for folks who hate the new Germany? Go stay at the Murphy Ranch Colony for a while. If this happens again, you’ll forfeit your gun permit.”

  At the colony that evening Uncle Philip’s victory was celebrated as was the new Germany’s advancement toward total European domination. The Aryan master race was not to be stopped: first Europe and then the world.

  ON THE BANKS of the Los Angeles River by the River Mother’s house there appeared three golden altars. It began when three little bouquets of cempasúchil, marigolds, were brought to the river by three children. One had known Sol, one had met Albert and the third child had visited the Boyle Heights Yard several times and seen Oakley. All three children’s parents knew either Sol or Albert or Oakley, but did not know each other. After the news of Oakley’s death had gotten around Los Angeles neighborhoods, these parents brought their families to the river to leave cempasúchil, a flower associated in Mexican culture with remembering the departed. They placed their offering at three different locations near the River Mother’s habitat. Sun Construction employees saw the little golden ofrendas and brought more flowers and candles in honor of the three men. The Sun Construction carpenters built altars to accommodate the many vases filled with radiant arrangements and colorful candles that people from all over Los Angeles brought to the three golden altars at the river’s edge. From throughout Southern California, Mexican families came to offer their respects with gratitude and love to Sol, Albert and Oakley. The Rivers family story circulated rapidly to near and distant places. People from all walks of life and different racial and ethnic backgrounds came to at least see the great golden altars that rose day by day. During a magnificent Southern California sunset, golden sheets of light made the altars shine resplendently for a far distance. The golden light blended into radiated shades of cempasúchil colors that climbed into the sky. An unmistakable radiance rose upward and upward, attracting more and more people to the river. The light was so intense that the crowds could only get so close to its source. Hundreds, then thousands of curious people came to witness the light from the three golden altars. As hundreds more neared, the warm wind mingled with a cold breeze, causing little dust devils that grew, at first gently, then stronger and stronger. People moved away from the light and sought shelter from the rising storm. As the storm escalated, the light grew brighter and warmer. Then a sudden rainstorm sent sheets of water down for a short while. The wind then exploded the light into countless rays of golden firelight witnessed from far away. The storm lasted thirty minutes, enough to sweep away any evidence of the great golden altars that had been constructed for Sol, Albert and Oakley. The next morning the gloriously rising sunlight embraced and warmed Los Angeles. Along the riverbanks there was nothing left of the altars, only indelible memories embedded forever in the minds of thousands of witnesses.

  “WHAT NAME SHOULD I put on the birth certificate?”

  “Sol Louise Rivers.”

  “Fine strong name, Louise. Let’s see now, the date is November 9, 1938. They will send you a copy. Birthing is easy for you, Louise!” the doctor said with a smile.

  Of course, Agatha and Allison had assisted in delivering her third child.

  Louise had not expected anyone for dinner that evening, but to her surprise and joy her father arrived with a bouquet of roses. Soon after him, Agatha and Allison arrived with platters of food. Emily, Gloria and Dame Marie came in right after them. They had in one way or another either heard or read about the district attorney’s decision exonerating Philip Keller days ago, but no one brought it up. They sensed the emptiness of several chairs in the kitchen, living room, dining room, in many of the spaces of the house that Sol, Albert and Oakley had occupied. Still, no one brought up Uncle Philip. Keller Oakey and Allison Agat played in the parlor and ran into and out of the living room. In the kitchen Allison and Agatha organized dinner. Soon they both approached Louise to ask to hold their new granddaughter.

  “Let me hold her.” Agatha took the baby and sat on the couch.

  “She’s so gorgeous, Louise! Sol Louise is beautiful.” Allison reached for the baby, but Agatha didn’t give her up.

  “I’m glad you gave her your name, Louise,” Dame Marie called out in the parlor where she played with the boys.

  “Dinner is almost ready,” the housekeeper called out from the kitchen.

  Not a second passed before a crash startled everyone. Dishes smashing on the kitchen floor! Everybody exchanged glimpses in a silence that was soon broken.

  “Well, thank God, it’s not Germany!” Dame Marie called from the parlor.

  “What happened there some nights ago is terrible. Innocent people taken out of their homes and beaten, killed,” Allison added.

  “They destroyed Jewish businesses and burned synagogues everywhere in Germany. The Germans are a disgrace. They should be ashamed for letting that happen.”

  “Hey, hey, come on now! Emily, let’s talk about something else,” Ernest insisted, then went to the kitchen to see if he could help carry anything to the table.

  The housekeeper was in tears. It took her a while to stop shaking and calm down. Finally, the family gathered around the dining table.

  Ernest offered a toast: “To my wonderful granddaughter, Sol Louise Rivers … may she inherit a world of peace.”

  During these difficult times every construction contract, no matter how big or small, was reviewed, accepted or rejected by Agatha and Louise Rivers. Agatha easily and smoothly took over complete administration of Sun Construction Company. Louise was at her side consistently now, learning every aspect of the business. She attended every meeting with the Banac law firm and the monthly reviews at the bank. Now she learned the minute but crucial workings of the company that she never imagined existed and were so important. The attention to detail that Agatha, Oakley and Albert had always practiced was what had kept the company and its employees working and earning money. Although Louise’s engineering experience only consisted of discussing engineering problems and visiting construction sites with Albert, now she had no choice but to get involved or possibly lose inherited control of the company. She could not observe from a distance. She wanted to be where she was sure Albert would want her, right at the heart of the company. With Agatha’s generosity and help making arrangements for child care, in the office Louise quickly became a ful
l-time working associate who eagerly took on Albert’s challenge.

  As Agatha and Louise took over full control of the company, they began building a new structure next to the old one. The new building had offices for Agatha and Louise, a conference room, accounting areas and office space for the engineers and architects. The new floor plan included a nursery and children’s playroom for Louise’s kids, as well as for the other employees’ children. There were now several large bathrooms with showers, lockers for men and women, a lounge and kitchen to prepare meals, snacks and coffee at break time. When construction of the new building was complete, Agatha and Louise had a special opening ceremony with all the company employees. A few days later a bulldozer and a small crew destroyed the old building in a matter of minutes and carried its debris to a landfill nearby. In the cleared space a parking lot was built, and closer to the river, a large maintenance garage hid away the trucks and the heavy machinery.

  Upon its completion, the building was almost too small. Early on, the company employees filled up the new space. At first, the nursery and children’s area were used only by Keller Oakley, Allison Agat, Sol Louise and the workers’ children. Soon, as Dame Marie, Emily and Gloria married and became mothers, they, too, availed themselves of the company’s child care services while they shopped and ran errands. Agatha and Louise noticed how the girls took advantage of the company facility and asked Dame Marie, Emily and Gloria to either contribute to the nursery with a monthly fee or give work time. Dame Marie accepted a full-time job. At first, Louise and Agatha hired her as an accountant’s apprentice while she took an accounting class. Once Dame Marie received her California Public Accountant Certificate, she was promoted to a full-time accountant position with Sun Construction Company. Emily worked for several years as a receptionist/secretary until her husband built a house on a large parcel of land on Mulholland Drive, and then she dedicated her time to running the house and raising five children who came along, one every two years. Gloria surprised the family when, with the help of her parents, she opened a dress shop near Rodeo Drive. Her business flourished, and eventually Emily joined her in running the shop, where success equaled triple profit margins, catering to the still very wealthy who had survived the Depression. To serve the less-fortunate community, Gloria opened the doors of a shop in the Garment District that sold second-hand clothes, appliances and furniture. Because it met a great need, there was an overwhelming customer response to the store. Thus the Rivers and the Keller families resourcefully held a finger on the growth and cultural pulse of Los Angeles and made wise decisions enabling them to have unrecognized, ongoing success.

  POSTSCRIPT

  The Saturday morning temperature was already at seventy-five degrees. It was going to be a hot day as the warm Santa Ana winds were slowly gusting up. Louise had asked the children to drive her over to visit Grandmother Agatha. They reluctantly agreed. They knew their mother had been looking at properties for investment purposes, but they were not sure if that meant having to move. Sol Louise had made arrangements for friends to go for her there in about an hour.

  Louise and Agatha needed to discuss some financial matters. Agatha had proposed that Louise purchase a house in Brentwood. Louise loved her house in Boyle Heights, but her parents and all the Banacs concurred that selling the Boyle Heights residence (or renting if necessary) and investing in a large parcel of land and a home somewhere on the west side of town would be a wise financial move. The area on the east side of the river was declining, while on the west side of the river land was becoming scarce and values were rising. The West-side attracted businesses, expensive apartment houses and high-end residential development, fast becoming the most desirable place to live in LA. The east side of the river was designated industrial and residential, but it was considered the workers’, the immigrants’ poor side of town. The family had looked at several houses for sale in the nicer residential areas on the Westside, but Louise had not made up her mind on any house. She and the children were comfortable in their big beautiful Boyle Heights home with great views of Los Angeles.

  Louise’s children—Keller Oakley, Allison Agat and Sol Louise—were against selling their home. They had grown up there, and it was their house also, they argued. Even though Keller Oakley and Allison Agat were away at school, and Sol Louise would soon attend the university, they still wanted to keep their home. They were adamant, and they would not budge.

  After a light lunch, Agatha brought out loan applications and contracts to fill out “just in case.” They sat reading peacefully, not realizing that all of the past had permeated the objects, walls and gardens of their homes. Their past history revealed itself in the smooth shiny surfaces of the fine furniture, in the glitter of fine chandeliers, in the clink of quality crystal, china cups and silverware, and on their faces, in the wrinkles around the corners of their mouths, and the grey streaks in their hair, and in their pushing away a second serving of chocolate cake. They both were sipping their tea when the doorbell rang.

  Dressed in a navy blue three-piece suit, a black hat, glass-polished shoes, a man stood before Agatha Rivers. Agatha raised her eyes upward to the man’s smiling face at least a foot above her. He scrutinized her face, then the living room where Louise waited, wondering who he was. The man held tightly to a briefcase.

  “Good morning, or is it afternoon?” The man leaned forward, accustomed to speaking to people much smaller than he.

  “Can I help you?”

  “Yes, I would like to speak with Mrs. Rivers.”

  “I am Mrs. Rivers,” Agatha answered.

  “Mrs. Louise Rivers?”

  “Oh, no. I’m Agatha Rivers.”

  “I’m Mrs. Louise Rivers,” Louise called out from the living room as she approached the front door. “Well, what is this all about?”

  “My name is Erasmus Caissing, and I represent Beck, Caissing and Smith, Attorneys at Law in Los Angeles. It would be easier to explain why I am here if we can sit down.”

  Agatha and Louise thought for a second, waited for the other to say something.

  “What I have to say concerns both of you.”

  Louise nodded, and Agatha led Mr. Caissing to the living room. He studied the living room and motioned to the dining room.

  “Can we please sit at a table? I have something to show you.”

  All three moved to the dining room and sat down. Mr. Caissing gestured for permission to place his briefcase on top of the table.

  “Would you like something to drink?”

  Mr. Caissing looked at Agatha, shook his head. He opened the lock on the briefcase and turned slightly.

  “If I may ask again, you are Mrs. Agatha Rivers, and you are Mrs. Louise Rivers?”

  They nodded.

  “Thank you. My comments are for Mrs. Louise Rivers. I hope you will allow me to finish what I have to tell you before you respond.”

  “What do you have to say?” Agatha responded, slightly annoyed. “Is this some kind of lawsuit? Then you have to talk to our lawyers.” Agatha stood up to show Mr. Caissing the door.

  “On the contrary, this has nothing to do with a lawsuit. Please, Mrs. Rivers.”

  “Well, what then?”

  Mr. Caissing addressed his words directly to Louise: “Mrs. Rivers, your Uncle Philip has died.”

  AFTER ALBERT’S HORRIBLE murder, nobody in the family had heard from Uncle Philip again. The insulting news that the Los Angeles County District Attorney had not charged him with murder, did not charge him with any crime at all, came by way of various articles in several Los Angeles newspapers. From that moment on, no family member ever pronounced his name again, and after his disappearance no one except Ernest wanted to search for him. He simply faded away, vanished, and was not heard from again, apparently swallowed up by the fast-expanding city.

  Philip Keller’s new Germany, the superior master race, the Nazi Party and the colony at Murphy Ranch had all collapsed in defeat and disgrace as parties to the most heinous events in history. Uncle
Philip’s dedication and faith in his dream that the Aryan master race would rise to power and rule the world had cost him his relationship with his loving family. After he was cleared legally of any wrongdoing, he had met briefly with Ernest on the ourskirts of Los Angeles. At that meeting, Ernest gave his uncle a substantial amount of money for Uncle Philip’s share of Keller Construction.

  “I informed my father about what you did. He agreed that this is best for you and the family. He also said that you should not resist, simply sign the papers and go away—those were his exact words.”

  Ernest had finally acted decisively. He bought out his uncle and told him not to contact him again and never to go to any of the family homes.

  “Take the money and get out of Los Angeles. Go, take a trip. Disappear!” Ernest hugged his uncle for the last time.

  PHILIP’S LIFE HAD had enjoyed a social, economic and spiritual trajectory upward. With Albert’s death, the momentum had suddenly stopped and crashed, shattered into worthless pieces. Now he found himself, ironically, traveling south on a journey to find answers to a heavy emptiness that he constantly carried in his heart and mind. Albert’s death had eliminated the person he had claimed to hate beyond description, but his annihilation created an abyss of emptiness and loneliness. Albert’s face and twisted body never left him. The young man’s image appeared fleetingly and at times persistently to Philip. He would wipe his eyes but could not erase Albert’s image.

  One morning, Philip awoke grieving, sobbing, embarrassed, convinced that he had to go through some kind of atonement for the guilt, the horrible shame that he endured for the murders of Albert and Sol, and for the grief that had led to Oakley’s demise. The greatest pain that he could suffer would be self-exile in some desolate place. This decision came to him during a never-ending night in which he walked with floating beings and their persistent loving images. Three terrible, loving, caressing, forgiving figures steadily moved around him. Sol wiped the blood from his face and offered to embrace Philip. Albert possessed several round clean holes through which rods of white light shone through his upper torso; the husband of his niece lovingly called his name. Oakley stood by with a steady, growing and bursting heart, over and over again bathing Uncle Philip in blood, love and more love.