Free Hard Red Spring by Kelly Kerney Page A

that was a lot of money. Father left it all behind without a glance. In four steps he passed Ubico and was outside, but then he turned to say something through the open door.
    â€œYou know . . .” Father said in a struggling voice. “You know, I have a lot of investor friends in the States.
In Boston
. I know with all the trouble with that eruption, I know that this volcano business would be very interesting. I know . . .” He trailed off, losing courage with Ubico’s widening smile.
    â€œOh, I see, Mr. Crowder.” He said their name real slow, and then he repeated it. “Crowder, I see what you are saying.”
    â€œNot really,” Father stammered. “I didn’t mean—”
    â€œDo not worry. Americans are always saying things they don’t mean. That’s what makes your country so great. Freedom of speech. But I will giveyou advice,” Mr. Ubico mused, lightly touching his gun, just to confirm its presence against his body. “If you are in Guatemala, American laws don’t matter. Americans think the laws are here—they think
I am here—
only for the Indians. But I am your
jefe
, too.”
    Father nodded, and Ubico grabbed his huge, limp hand and shook it many times. At this point, Father noticed that Evie was not outside with him. Their eyes met and he gave her such a peculiar, stunned look that she thought she had done something wrong. She was in trouble, suddenly, she had no idea why, but she tried to move quickly to join him, to fix her mistake. But Mr. Ubico stepped between them and fished into his pocket. “For the little wheat girl,” he said, pressing an already-sticky mint into her palm. She had no choice but to accept it, and no choice but to pass under his other arm, which now ceremoniously held the door open for her.
    ~~~~~
    Guatemala was not at all how her parents had told Evie it would be. When they first proposed the idea, they painted pictures in her mind of perpetual spring. Ocean and beaches, year-round mild temperatures, flowers. Father brought home a pamphlet to show them.
Guatemala: The Land of Eternal Spring
. Cheap land, fertile soil, a vast, mobilized, and cheap workforce. A rainy season as predictable as the phases of the moon. The government pamphlet did not show volcanoes or Indians, but white-tiled mansions and flowering vines, pictures that inspired Mother to abandon her campaign for Europe and get behind the plan. In the Land of Eternal Spring, a spring wheat could provide an eternal crop.
    In marrying Father, Mother had come down in the world, but she had married for love, she insisted to everyone. And that could not be bought for anything. Love had cost her, however. She had grown up with servants, a summer house in the country, and even a motorcar with a crank. With Father, she had none of these things.
    According to Father’s initial arguments for the plan, in Guatemala they would be rich, they could own land. In Guatemala, they would have servants. They would be richer than almost anyone but the plantation owners. These were not things they would be able to afford in Europe, he always reminded Mother.
    For years, Mother had harbored dreams of moving to Europe. Only distance, she came to believe, would give her marriage dignity in the eyes of her family. In New York, her relatives pursed their lips at Father’s accent, his grand plans, which he would outline to anyone, whether or not they asked.Their humble apartment was a scandal to her mother, who was convinced Father had married Mother only for her inheritance. For all this, Europe seemed to be the answer, the gloss her life needed. But since Europe was played out, according to Father, and since they could afford a nicer life in Guatemala, she finally agreed to the plan.
    After arriving, however, it soon became clear that being richer than people who could not even afford shoes was not much of an accomplishment. Nevertheless, Mother kept