The Latin Deli: Prose and Poetry

Guard Duty

In my Spanish-language childhood I was put under the care of El Angel de la Guarda, my Guardian Angel, the militaryguard who required a nightly salute, a plea on my knees for protection against the dangers hidden in dreams, and from night-prowling demons. In the print framed over my bed, he was portrayed as a feathered androgyny hovering above two barefootchildren whose features were set in pastel horror— and no wonder—under the bridge they were crossingyawned a sulfurous abyss—their only light being the glow of the thing withwings otherwise invisibleto them. I could take no comfort in this dark nursery myth, as some nights I lay awake listening to the murmur of my parents' voices sharing their incomprehensible plans in a well-lit kitchen, while I brooded over the cruel indifferenceof adults who abandoned children to the night, 63 Guard Duty and about that Comandante in thesky who knew everything I did, or thought of doing, whose soldier could so calmly smile while innocent children crossed over darkness, alone, afraid, night after night. 64 ...