David hurried home since Liz would be getting off of school soon. He arrived and was greeted by the warm air of the kitchen stove going, as Grams was already cooking something delicious no doubt.

"Hola mijo como estas (Hi son how are you)? No te vi. Estabas fuera (I didn't see you. Where you out)? Quieres comer algo (You want to eat something)?" asked Grams glad to see David up and about.

"No gracias abuelita (No thank you grandma)," he addressed her warmly. No matter his emotions he always gave her the respect she deserved.

"Where did you go?" asked Grams.

"I was out with Cheeto at the Childrens Center," replied David as he looked around.

"Oh que Bueno. Mira trata estas (Look try these) quesadillas. Me quedaron bien buenas (they came out amazing)!" she said feeding David a sample.

"No it's Okay I'm not hungry," he said but it was no use.

"Pruebalo, mira (Here taste it)," she said handing him the dish he had grown up with. The familiar look, smell, and even the feel of the warm plate soothing David and making him a little bit hungry. He tasted the dish, expecting it be the same as his childhood memories, but it was slightly different than he remembered.

"Hmmm it wasted different," he said out of curiosity and not out of enjoyment.

"Yes, I used tofu and low carb, low fat tortillas. It's healthy. Good no?" Grams said oblivious of the weird face David was making trying to swallow the food.

"Mhmmm so good," he said in the least convincing manner possible.

"Que Bueno que te gusto porque es todo lo que te compre para comer (Good thing you liked it, because It's all I bought to eat). Quieres mas (You want some more)?" asked Grams indifferent if David like the meal or not. She had bought it, she made it, and so he would eat it.

"No, no, that's fine. Thank you," he replied.

"Bueno, te lo pierdes (Fine, your loss)," she replied.

"Have you seen Liz?" he asked.

"Si, esta encerrada en su cuarto. Me esta procupando. No sale, no quiere cmmer y trae un genio como su madre! Que dios la tenga (Yes, she is locked up in her room. She's worrying me. She won't come out, she won't eat and she's in a mood like her mother's! God keep her," said Grams crossing herself referring to the deceased.

"Mijo (Son), you should talk to her," asked Grams.

"Abuelita (Grams)..." his phiscial reaction giving away his displeasure with the suggestion posed before him.

"David, that girl needs help. I've tried for years but I can't get through to her. I'm too old and she won't listen to me."

"And you think she'll listen to me?" said David in disbelief.

"Alamejor (Maybe)? Alguien joven (someone young). You care about her. It's clear as day. She needs to know people care about her. She doesn't care about my opinion because I'm old and I don't understand her. But you are young like her. You are also closer to her than the other people around her. She'll listen to you. Remember how she used to look up to you when you kids were younger?"

"That was a long time ago though. She doesn't look up to me anymore," said David, some melancholy in his voice.

"Well, give her something to look up too."

"Como que (Like what)?" David asked.

"I don't know. But you can start by being her older brother."

David didn't have anything to come back with. He knew Grams was right but he didn't have the slightest idea of how to begin to resolve this problem. It made him uncomfortable that he had no knowledge or plan on how to proceed. Nothing like a teenage girl to make a man question his essence.

"I'll try talking to her. But I have no idea what I'm supposed to tell her," he confessed to Grams.

"Ah I yo si (And I do)?"

"You just have to figure it out as you," she continued.

"Fine. On another note; Grams you've been living here for a long time right? Way before I was born." David asked.

"Ohh yeah, I've been here since your late grandfather came to work for the farmers union. So over forty years," Grams replied searching the deepest regions of her mind to recall the time long gone but not forgotten.

"Where things much different back then compared to how things are now?" asked David.

"Uuuuh let me tell you. Everything you see from Sycamore to Old Town Maple was covered by fields of straw hay and oranges. Main Street and the old 90 highway used to be just one lane roads and there was only one red light on Redding and Broadway which was the major intersection at the time," started to lecture grams on the local history.

David listened politely and patiently as he tried to steer the conversation in a certain direction, but he was also curious to learn how things had changed from someone who had lived through it all.

"What about the people? Were things always as bad as they are now?" asked David.

"Well you got to remember times were different back then. When we came here there were not a lot of us here. And this was not the best land around. People didn't want to live here so it was cheaper and easier for us to live here. People didn't want us here either. Things were not all pink and rosy for us back then either. It was hard then too. I couldn't go downtown without people calling us wetbacks, and beanners and all those other things. Money was also scares back then. Well it's scares now but at least things were cheaper back then too," she continued.

"Was there a lot of crime back then?" David asked.

"Oh yes. Not too long before we got here there were the zoot suit riots. I'm sure you don't know what that was but back then it was a pretty big deal," Grams said as she continued to cook, stirring a stew she was preparing and added more cut up vegetables into the pot.

"No, I'm not familiar with that," said David becoming more interested in the important history lesson Grams started to impart on him.

"Mhmm. That was way before your time. Gosh let me think," she said struggling to recall the pertinent information from her vault of memories.

"I guess it had to be around the 40's. I don't remember, or did it start in the 30's? No I guess it was the 40's because your grandpa was into that whole movement and once the war started he was mad he had to stop buying his suits. Which let me tell you we had no money for to begin with, but he was hell bent on having his damned suits. Oh we fought so much about that stuff back then," she reminisced.

"What war was this?" David asked since Grams skipped certain details that interested him.

"Oh the big one. World War 2. You see, the government had called for the rationing of wool clothing for the solders uniforms I guess or something like that," she said.

"Yes I read about that," David said eager to share his knowledge on the subject, finally able to contribute.

"I studied this subject at the academy. Certain materials were needed for production of battle critical items and the military needed exclusive access to them," David said as Grams simply nodded and smiled as an adult tends to do when a child seeks to impress them with their knowledge.

"So everything made of wool, suits, skirts, dresses were banned. Including those zoot suits. Oh I remember there was this really pretty dress I'd been saving for and wanted to buy for church, and parties and just to have around you know. Anyway they stopped making it and I was so sad. Still didn't have anywhere near enough money to buy it but I liked looking at it on the window thinking I would get it one day. Hahaha, silly girl dreams," she said smiling at the memory, masking the slightest fondness of the dress she was never able to have.

"Anyway, those zoot suits were also included and did that get people mad," she said with an apparent dislike for the suits.

"So because the men were still buying the suits and because of the bad reputation that the media and other people had of us, fights would break out all over town with service men and the police beating up the zoot suits. Eventually things got so bad that full on riots broke out. I tell you, navy sailors by the hundreads would walk down town and beat up everybody who was wearing these suits. Men, women, Mexicans, Blacks, even Asian believe it or not. They would beat them up, strip them and burn the clothes. Ahora (Now), no heran tan inocentes los zoot suits o pachucos como los llamavan (they were not all innocent these zoot suits or pachucos as they were called). They also liked to go around and get into fights with the sailors and even killed one of them. All because he was talking to a couple of Mexican girls. Can you believe that? I mean everyone was at fault but still, people almost died in these things. Pero que no nos querie el govierno aqui, no nos queria (But that the government didn't want us here, it did not want us here). Or the people either. They were on their side and didn't want us on their side. So we were on our side and that is how things were," emphasized Grams.

"But that was sixty years ago. Things got better after that right?" inquired David.

"Oh no that's just the beginning. Later, I guess in the 50's you had the mafia going at it in the streets," said Grams.

"What? No way, that was in Chicago and other places thought," said David in disbelieve.

"No! You had that stuff going on here too!" corrected Grams.

"You heard of Bugsei Seigel, Mickey Cohen, Jack Dragna? All of those guys were here," said Grams.

"No I can't say I am familiar with them," admitted David again.

"Well they were all over town causing all sorts of trouble through the 40's and 50's. Then in the 60's you had the hippies fighting with the police, ohh and then the Watt's riots also in the 60's. And then in the 80's that was when crack started to come into the area. You were just born around the time that happened and pretty much since then things have gotten out of control. Now there are gangs fighting all the time and all sorts of people doing all these different types of drugs. But there is always something going on here," said Grams as she packed and put away the food she had been preparing and begun to clean up.

David was amazed of hearing the events the little old lady had lived through in the same little house. He didn't know what he was expecting to discover talking to her but he now had a more profound deal of respect for her and the people who had lived through this history.

"Grams, do you remember someone by the name of Clyde?" asked David hoping the name alone would ring a bell.

"Clyde? Ay dejame ver (Oh let me see). That name sounds so familiar. Clyde...Clyde Johnson? That's the only Clyde I can remember," she said trying to verify this with David who could not offer any confirmation.

"I don't know the last name," he said.

"Why do you ask?" said Grams.

"Just a name I heard recently," is all David cared to share.

"What do you know of him?" he continued.

"If it is the same person, he and his family used to live by Broadway. He had a son, I think I remember his name was Louis," she said and David's neck hairs stood up in excitement that this was the same person he was inquiring about.

"I remember because it was so sad. The little boy was killed in a drive-by. I think he was around Liz's age or younger when he was killed. He would be around your age by now," she continued.

"Why don't I remember meeting him?" asked David since he would have been around at the same time as Louis.

"I don't think he went to the same school as you, and he was killed around the same time you went to military school," Grams said, bypassing the fact this would have also been the time David's mother was gunned down as well.

"It was a bad year all around," continued Grams.

"Do you know what happened to the family afterwards?" asked David.

"Ohh nothing good I'm afraid. I knew Clyde's mother from a community food drive. This was back when Clyde was a young man. The two of us would go and pick up food bags for the week that a couple of Churches provided. They would have stuff like milk, bread, and some canned foods. I used to use that to make food for all five of us. And it was hard enough with you two small kids. Sometimes your mom and dad would split a meal and your dad had to go work the following day roofing houses. So I have no idea how that woman would do it with four kids and her husband. But she they did, even put them all through school too," said Grams her tone reflecting the serenity of the conversation.

"So we would talk and once the meals ended we started volunteering at the Church. They went to the Baptist church on Sycamore. Our Churches started doing work at the Senior Rec Center and we both volunteered. She would tell me about her kids, about Clyde. When he graduated, when he got married, even when little Louis was born. After Louis died the family took it very hard. Clyde's family separated unfortunately. Not too long after that, the poor woman passed away too. I went to her service and I think I meet Clyde there. That poor man lost everything in just a couple of years," she said with a hint of sadness of her recalling the tragic time.

"Do you know what happened to him?" asked David again.

"Ai mijo come tienes preguntas hoy (Oh boy you have a lot of questions today)," she said a little annoyed at the subject matter.

"Sorry Grams it's just interesting."

"Well I'm not too sure, but I heard he has like a car shop or something to do with cars by the old pier by the ports."

"And that's all I know. I don't have anything more than that," she stated.

"That's Ok Grams. You said more that I needed to know."

David noticed the many containers of food that Grams had prepared.

"Whose all that for? No way the three of us can eat all of that," said David.

"No pues esto es pare la semana (No well this is for the week)," she said pointing to the plates set on one side.

"Y estos son mis cosas (And these are my own business). No seas metiche (Don't be nousy)," she said in regards to the other much larger set.

David smiled, "esta bien (very well). La dejo, lla le tome mucho tiempo (I'll leave you, I already took too much of your time)," he said.

"Don't worry. I like our little talks," said Grams as she squeezed his chin with her hands as grandmas typically do.

"Hai nos vemos alrato entonses (See you later then)," Grams said as she packed some food in her bag,

"Lla se va (You leaving?)" asked David thinking she had just gotten home.

"Si, tengo muchas cosas que hacer. (Yes, I have a lot of things to do) Estoy (I am) busy, busy, busy," she said picking up her things and making her way out.

"What time will you be home?" asked David.

"Como a las siete (Around seven). There is food in the fridge for you two so make sure you and Liz eat," said Grams walking out of the door.

David now alone with Liz in her room realized the impending task ahead of him of talking to her. He dreaded this in particular because of the last time they had spoken, the night of the attack. He had not seen Liz out of her room for a while so the only way they would be able to talk was for him to go to her.

"I guess I should check up on her. Maybe she's hungry. I don't know how she's going to like Grams new recipe though," he said to himself while preparing the meal for Liz.

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