The Brick People

by Alejandro Morales

  A quiet young man, James suddenly turned aggressive, and the first to suffer the brunt of his verbal anger was Joseph.

  Walter never forgot the night when James attacked Joseph. The many verbal insults of “failure,” “betrayal,” “coward,” “worthless” and Laura’s cries whirled in Walter’s mind.

  The insults and humiliation devastated the respect that had existed between father and son. The stress caused a paralysis to slowly overtake Joseph’s body. He lost the use of the thumb, index and middle finger of his right hand as well as the forearm. Although he could hold a pen, writing was difficult and he used his left hand to carry his right hand across the paper.

  Laura was sure that the paralysis was caused by the tension and worry brought about by the court action, but most destructive was the decrement of James’ respect for his father. Joseph walked head down, never directly looking at anyone in the eye, and his facial expression was weighted by the loss of a son whom Joseph never really knew.

  Walter sat at the desk reviewing the week’s orders. Ballast for ships, he thought. With Wilson beginning a second term, peace would come soon. He liked the amount of brick ordered by Los Angeles-based international ship brokers. Thousands of brick to be used as weight on Russian ships. He did not question the use, but had William investigate the economic soundness of the company. Nonetheless, he ordered that shipment be sent immediately to the Los Angeles dock. He instructed Gonzalo to operate all twelve machines and set up number thirteen. The number did not bother William or Gonzalo, who listened to Walter place an order for more mules and wagons.

  Looking out the window, Walter saw Roberto Lacan dismount and tie his horse to a post. Walter thought about Pancho Villa, who had crossed the border with guerrillas and raided Columbus, New Mexico, killing seventeen Americans. General Pershing had pursued Villa with six thousand troops but could not find him. Roberto Lacan, a cunning maderista, had probably wanted to be with Villa. Roberto walked by his boss and wished him a good morning.

  “You’re not going to leave that horse there?” Walter said sternly. “It will crap and we’ll have it inside. It’ll smell like a stable.”

  “No, Mr. Simons. I will move the animal immediately.” Roberto abandoned his intention to mount a new shoe display before the general store opened at eight o’clock. In a minute, Roberto and horse were out of sight.

  Walter returned to his work to finish sorting the order invoices. As he automatically pushed the paper, the early morning with Sara rushed to him. She felt him get out of bed, wash, and dress. When he returned from the kitchen to kiss her, she muttered words that she had used three times before. When she told him, Sara cried. They both were afraid of losing this child. Three times before, she had miscarried. He told her to sleep, and left.

  Walter reached for another stack of orders and wondered what it was about the Simons men. Joseph had only one child. Walter had none. He wanted more than anything to have this child. Sara deserved the baby. He placed the last order on the local stack and noticed that its job description read residential housing. At that instant he decided that Sara needed a change of environment. The house in Pasadena, the house that he had struggled so much to make his, he would leave. Walter laughed at the silliness of it all as he pushed himself away from his desk.

  Walking into the general store, Walter saw William and Gonzalo drinking a cup of coffee which Roberto had brewed. Walter held the residential housing order up high and looked straight at Gonzalo.

  “I’m going to build a house,” Walter said.

  The declaration came out of nowhere and caught the three workers by surprise. They stood with cups in hand, not knowing how to respond to Walter’s revelation. William drank his coffee as Walter watched the steam rise from the coffee cups.

  ... And I’ll huff and I’ll puff and I’ll blow your house down! One pig built a house of brick, stronger than his brother’s, so strong that nothing would bring the house down. It would be the sturdiest and safest house in the world. There had been three little pigs, but now there were only two. Brown insects had eaten the third; worry and the loss of respect in the eyes of his son was short-circuiting parts of the brain of the first pig. The second and first pig had buried the third. The second watched sparks perpetually fly from the head of the first pig. The second pig would survive by building the best brick house in Los Angeles ... Walter’s mind allowed the pig faces to fade away. He blinked and found three human faces staring at him. He motioned to Roberto for more coffee.

  “Gonzalo, the brick you use to build a house, it’s the common, regular brick?” Walter inquired.

  Gonzalo nodded.

  “I want you to choose and separate the best shaped, colored, strongest brick we produce,” Walter said pensively. “In a few days I will tell you where to deliver it.”

  “Yes, Mr. Simons.” Gonzalo put his cup on the counter. He grabbed his hat and the door closed behind him. His horse whinnied and broke into a gallop.

  Walter returned to his office and packed two saddlebags with company paperwork. By one o’clock that afternoon he had begun preliminary negotiations for the purchase of residential property in an exclusive section of Los Angeles. The next day he signed contracts to purchase in cash three lots on Plymouth Street. He immediately sent word to William and Gonzalo to begin transporting brick to the site.

  The morning that Walter announced he would build a house and gave orders to select the best brick he produced, Gonzalo left the general store in a full gallop. With Walter’s orders to select the best brick echoing in his mind, he rode to the bachelors’ quarters to see if any new men had arrived. On his way he remembered that he had had a discussion with Malaquías de Leon that needed to be concluded. It had turned out that Malaquías, an excellent worker who came to Simons around 1910, had become somewhat of a rebel. He refused to obey the understood Simons rule which demanded that workers buy groceries, clothes, shoes, and other living necessities at the company general store. For years Malaquías and Gonzalo had nurtured an ongoing feud. Gonzalo insisted that the rules be obeyed. Malaquías believed he was free and that after he put in twelve hours at work, the rest of the time was his own. Malaquías demanded the right to spend his salary when, where and on whatever he desired. He did his purchasing outside of Simons in the neighboring towns.

  What bothered Gonzalo most were the two horses and carriage that Malaquías bought and kept in the backyard of his Simons house. These animals exemplified Malaquías’ freedom. He was completely and independently mobile. He placed no limitation on himself and quietly encouraged other workers to do the same.

  Soon Lorenza would give birth to another child, for she was well advanced into her sixth pregnancy. For his family’s sake, Malaquías would not limit his freedom and basic right to make survival a little easier, more prudent than what Simons offered. Hard work was his ethic; he considered work a privilege. No matter how difficult it might become, he had learned to move forward, and as he did obstacles disappeared, fears were understood and life became more meaningful. Not a talkative man, he was known as a calculator to enemies and as an hombre pensativo to his acquaintances. He was not a man to count on friends, but everyone knew that once he gave his word, they could count on Malaquías. He was a respected man who kept to himself and performed well on the job and as a provider for his family, the measure of a good father in Simons.

  With this history in mind and a basic dislike for Malaquías, Gonzalo approached the house. Gonzalo heard that Malaquías had been going to Downey and intended to buy a third horse, which was absolutely unacceptable. He had given the workers permission to have hogs, goats and even cows whose milk, cheese and butter were sold at the general store, but Malaquías had never asked for permission to own horses. He had acted without consulting Gonzalo, who categorized this lack of consideration as an affront to his authority.

  Gonzalo dismounted while a four-year-old girl came to the door. Moments later Lorenza, holding two-year-old Leonardo, stepped onto the little path on the por
ch. Nana’s potted flowers had grown into beautiful, fruitful plants. She cared for them and the family respected where she had placed them six years ago.

  “Malaquías is not here, Don Gonzalo,” Lorenza answered, moving the baby to her right hip.

  “I want to see how many horses he has out back.”

  “Only two, Don Gonzalo.” Lorenza placed herself and the child directly in his path.

  “Very well, let there be only two and not one more!” Gonzalo spoke with an angered tone.

  “That is impossible, Don Gonzalo. Malaquías has just bought the third one and he will pick it up this afternoon.” Upon finishing her statement Lorenza suddenly realized the possible consequences.

  Vexed, Gonzalo mounted his horse and went looking for Malaquías. He had assigned him to machine number five, where he found him placing wet brick on drying racks. Malaquías worked right up to the moment Gonzalo called his name.

  Malaquías continued working. “Buenos días, Mr. Gonzalo Pedroza.” I told you two horses was enough! You can’t have the third one!” Gonzalo insisted.

  Two men who worked with Malaquías came closer.

  Malaquías raised his voice over the machine’s grinding noise. “My horses don’t harm anyone. Who has complained?”

  “I’m telling you not to bring any more animals. If you insist, get out of here!”

  “Look here, Mr. Gonzalo Pedroza. I’m not afraid of you. You don’t scare me like you do the other workers. I’m bringing my horse tonight. And don’t worry, because within a week we will leave Simons.” Malaquías and the other workers left Gonzalo standing alone.

  An unexplainable sensation, something more than anger, made Gonzalo call out to Malaquías. Gonzalo would have the last word. He would impose his power.

  “Hey, Malaquías. Tomorrow morning at five sharp go to kiln number six. You are going to sort brick for the patron’s new house.”

  Gonzalo spurred his horse and went off to inspect the other machines. As he galloped he felt satisfied that Malaquías had been bothered and had shown anger upon the refusal of his horse. Now Malaquías was probably seething about the onerous task of selecting brick. Gonzalo’s square face broke into a smile. Abruptly, he turned his horse for home. Pascuala, with child, had had a difficult morning. A desire to smell and feel her body and arms about him rose to his head. At full gallop the horse felt strong between his legs.

  When Malaquías reported to kiln number six, he saw Octavio Revueltas and his father Damian, who had been living in Simons for four weeks. Octavio had been assigned to build drying racks while Damian worked loading clay onto the wagons that transported it to the machines. The night before, Gonzalo had visited the Revueltas and asked them to report to kiln number six to select choice blue brick.

  That morning Gonzalo waited for the three men, who arrived punctually. He instructed them on the color, texture and strength of the brick Walter wanted. When he finished he turned to the three-dimensional brick rectangle that loomed above him.

  “This kiln has a lot of blue brick inside. Find it and stack it here.” Gonzalo motioned with both hands to the spot where the blue brick would be stacked.

  The three men watched Gonzalo tie his horse to a post and walk into the general store, probably to review with William the day’s activities. Octavio leaned against a ladder. His vision followed the railroad tracks, the same tracks he and his father had walked to reach Simons. Somewhere just outside his day-trance, he heard Damian and Malaquías solve the breakdown of the brick monolith.

  “From the top to the bottom,” Malaquías suggested.

  “Octavio, bring the ladder over here,” Damian called to his son.

  Malaquías climbed to the top of the kiln and pointed to a spot half-way down the side. He told Damian to dig out an area wide and deep enough for him to stand. By the time the area was gouged out and reinforced by wooden planks, Malaquías had accumulated several hundred blue bricks at the edge of the kiln just above Damian’s head. Malaquías looked down to where Damian had inserted himself into the wall. Below Damian waited Octavio.

  “Octavio, place the ladder in front of your father,” Malaquías called down. “Damian, stand with one foot on the ladder and the other on the kiln. Now look up to where I am.”

  Damian did exactly what Malaquías instructed and saw him standing above, holding what seemed to be an armful of bricks.

  “I’ll throw them down to you and you pass them on to Octavio,” Malaquías called down the side of a stacked arm. “Octavio, be ready. Here they go, Damian!”

  The brick throwing and catching chain began. At first Damian and Octavio dropped most of the bricks. But quickly they learned to give with the weight and easily fell into the rhythm. Like their confidence, the stacks grew until the men were catching nine bricks a throw with ease. They worked straight through the morning. Their conversation was sparse, just a word of encouragement to each other. Damian and Malaquías changed places twice. At one in the afternoon they decided to lunch and rest.

  “We’re doing fine,” Malaquías assured.

  “Yes, but it’s going to be very hot,” Octavio commented while he unwrapped the tacos his aunt had prepared.

  “A nice cold beer would really be good now,” Damian suggested.

  “Yes. You know that soon they will stop selling all types of alcohol,” Malaquías said.

  “Here in Simons?” Damian asked.

  “Throughout the country. There is a national movement to prohibit the production and sale of liquor.” Malaquías shook his head in disgust. “They even want to stop selling beer.”

  “Why’s that?” Octavio asked and bit off another piece of his second taco.

  “I don’t know. First because of the war, then because they want to stop alcoholism among men.” Malaquías drank from his water canteen.

  “They won’t stop anything. There are too many people who make their liquor at home. My papa knows how to make it,” Octavio countered.

  “This is true. We won’t miss anything,” Damian said.

  “The law is in the Congress and I believe that it will be approved soon.” Malaquías took an orange out of his paper bag.

  “It’s a stupid law. It will cause more problems than it will solve,” Damian said, removing his hat.

  Malaquías sat against the blue brick Octavio had stacked. “When did you arrive? I have not seen you around here,” he asked.

  “A few weeks ago. And you, Malaquías?” Damian replied.

  “It’s been years that we have lived here. But Gonzalo has just kicked me out. He gave me one week to find a home,” Malaquías said and nodded his head in the direction of the general store.

  “That’s the way it goes,” he continued. “For awhile I have been thinking about renting some land. I’m one of those ranchers who has to be up to his neck in earth to feel free. I don’t feel free in Simons.”

  “Explain that to me, please,” Octavio said.

  “Gonzalo controls it all. We must buy in the company store. We have to ask his permission to purchase an animal. Here you work and spend in the same place. And bear it, because if you don’t Gonzalo will fire you. He does not scare me with his square brick face. I’m taking my family out of here. Finishing this week, I’ll get paid and goodbye.” Malaquías angrily wiped his hands.

  “We will stay for awhile. Until Mexico stabilizes. And then we will return,” Damian said softly.

  Octavio heard his father but understood him differently. He sensed a half-truth in what his father had said. The house, land, Mexico: he remembered. Images of the difficult and dangerous trip rushed to his mind. For now Octavio would work and wait for the opportunities that Simons would offer in the future. His mother would soon arrive to make a home for the family here. He had faith in her.

  “Now it is my turn to throw from above,” Octavio said. He climbed the ladder and went to work on top of the brick monolith.

  Octavio refused to wait for his father. He loved to get out into the daybreak sun and run with
the wind, feeling the strength of his body. He did not bother to look back for his father; he was sure that Damian would get to the job as he always did. No matter what was said about Damian, whether he drank too much, chased women, or mistreated his wife, he faithfully provided the essentials of life for his family.

  Octavio saw Simons awaken into activity. In the houses, the women prepared breakfast and got the family ready for the day. The street soon filled with workers who moved past Octavio and headed to their places at the brickyard

  On the fourth day of labor, Octavio, Damian and Malaquías had lowered the kiln to where two men could break down, select and stack the remaining brick for the patron’s new house. Several times Octavio had accompanied the delivery of material to the lots on Plymouth Street. The arriero, a Portuguese man about as old as Damian who controlled the four mules and large wagon, was a player on the Simons baseball team. Jimmy, hired by William for his hitting and second-base talents, talked throughout the trips to and from the building site. His conversation concentrated on baseball, on how to handle horses and mules, and on the rumors that Walter planned gradually to replace the costly and slow beasts of burden with efficient and faster trucks.

  Like many others, Jimmy was opposed to the change, for he felt that mules and horses were more dependable than trucks. Octavio felt comfortable with the idea of motor machines, but horses seemed more reasonable and easier to handle. Animals understood and obeyed commands, while trucks and automobiles, bloodless technological tangibilities controlled by mechanical means, lacked vital organs, brains and decision power.

  Octavio stopped at the entrance to the street where Malaquías lived. By today, Malaquías was ordered to leave Simons. Perhaps he would refuse to abandon the house his family occupied for six years, but the consequences for disobeying Gonzalo could be severe. Malaquías was not a foolish man, Octavio thought as he approached the de Leon house. The wide open front door offered Octavio an answer. Boxes, mattresses, tables, chairs, and other articles had been placed around the small porch. The de Leon family had prepared for the exodus.