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Show -7- but she'd always been Rosa's favorite cousin. They tramped along through, the brush, past clumps of ocotillo and palo verde, catsclaw and mssquite bushes. There were some people who thought the desert was beautiful. To Rosa it was only hot and hard and dry. "Want to hear my radio?" "Sure. Granny'd have a fit if she knew." "Granny isn't here." Rosa arched her hips until her jeans had enough slack at the rear to get the radio out of the pocket. She flipped it on and the music blared startlingly loud in the quiet desert air. She turned it down a little. "How long are you back for?" Graciela shrugged. "Forever maybe. Till after the baby comes, at least•" "Graciela, how'd you get pregnant?" "You donkey! How does anybody get pregnant?" Rosa giggled nervously. "Not that! How'd you meet him? How come you didn't marry him?" "I met him at the cafe. And he didn't want to marry me. He was a white man. Let's talk about something else." They walked on, to the outer edge of the area they'd been assigned to pick. That way they'd be close to camp by the time their baskets were full. Graciela lifted the kuibit with its sharpened crosspiece, caught a clump of ripened fruit pods atop one of the tallest saguaros, and pulled them loose. When the pods hit the ground they split open. Rosa scooped out the red fruit with her fingers and put it in the basket. She was careful to leave the pods on the ground with their bright inside surfaces up, as an added enticement to the Rain Gods. That was the way Granny had taught her. |