promise.”
But the woman clutched the girl desperately, then speaking in Spanish, said, “No, my daughter. You cannot go. You will stay with me.”
Wrenching free, Maya looked her mother in the eye. “Mom! You said I could go!”
Hearing that, the woman sprang to her feet and glared at Bill Jimenez so viciously that he stepped back. “Don’ you touch my daughter!” she shouted. “You leave my baby alone!”
Before Bill could respond, Maya, now close to tears, pleaded, “Mother! Let me go in the parade! You said I could! Wait at the end and I’ll go home with you.”
The woman’s glare softened, then again, speaking in Spanish, she said, “You do not love me, my daughter? Do you wish to leave me alone with no one?”
“Mom!” Maya pleaded, wrenching free. “You promised! Let me do this one thing!”
But her mother’s anger turned to self-pity and she fell to her knees. “Okay, Maya. You don’ lauve your mother. You don’ lauve your own mother.”
“Yes I do!” Maya protested. “I do love you, Mom. You know I do. But you promised I could ride in the parade. You promised.”
Clutching Maya, she said, “No, mija. We mus’ go home now. Vamonos a la casa. We go now.” Then she buried her head against the girl’s neck and sobbed.
Finally, Maya straightened and looked at Bill. “Go ahead without me.” Then to her mother, “Alright, Mom. Let’s go.”
Re-energized, her mother rose, wiped the tears from her face, and led her daughter away.
“Okay,” Bill Jimenez said to the next young dancer, breaking the spell. “Let’s go. We can’t wait all day.”
The band finished its song, the majorette let out another shrill blast followed by two short ones, the drum section resumed, and the Spirit of Fiesta at the front of the parade began dancing gracefully forward followed by the walking flamenco band, the six horsemen, the car holding the grand marshal, the Western Bank float, the high school band, the Chumash descendants float, another group of horsemen, and the Sanchez family float. The parade headed up Cabrillo, went right onto Castillo and under the freeway, then right again onto Haley for several blocks, and finally left onto State Street for the rest of the way.
On State Street in front of the Mission Theater, many young brown men perched on the sidewalk, planters, and boxes, enjoying the day, drinking beers, and flirting with the beautiful Mexican girls. The