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ESPERANZA T ELLS HER FRIENDS THE STORY OF LA LLORONA She killed her babies in the river over there by the Bill Miller barbecue place, you know, by the Holy Mother Church. She was friends with my grandma; they played bingo together, I think. Oh, yeah, why did she kill ’em? They were brats. And they probably never helped her clean house, and they were probably really whiney and always wanted candy in line at the H.E.B. How’d she do it, Espi? She drowned them one at a time, and herself, too, I think. That’s probably why she cries. She probably didn’t mean to kill herself, too. That’s not how the story goes. My mom says it happened in Mexico, not in San Antonio. 22 23 Shut up, Patty, what do you know? Your mom’s not even Mexican like us. Anyway, I think she re’carnates herself. Or maybe God doesn’t want her in Heaven because she’s crazy and killed her own babies . . . but she keeps coming back. Whatever, Espi. Serious. She comes back in real life and keeps on killing her babies. But, I don’t think she cries anymore. She’s so used to it now. She’s gone to Houston, to Hudson Oaks, to Plano, even back to San Antonio, right here in the Southside. You think you know everything— tell us how come sometimes she kills herself and sometimes she don’t? I don’t know. Maybe she cloned herself and now there’re lots of Lloronas. Maybe someone you know, Patty. Maybe your mother. ...

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