"Have you thought about it any more, Roberto?" Dora asked.

"Everyday Dora. Everyday. It’s a big decision for us. I have my doubts....and then I say: ‘It’s the chance of a life time for us.’" Roberto picked up the magazine and rolled it up tightly with his fingers. He showed it to Dora and she shook him off with her hand. She had read all the articles a hundred times. The beautiful black and white pictures were in her memory like the day she had first met Roberto. And she knew the page numbers by heart. Roberto tossed it into the fire and it burst into flames a second later. For the very first time Dora wondered if she would ever actually see America or if the magazine pictures were an illusion that beckoned them both.

"When must Marie have an answer," Roberto asked in his deep voice. He crawled over to the couch and sat with his back resting against the wooden frame. His legs ached from a day of work and the heat was just beginning to penetrate through his work pance. He rubbed his knees as Dora ran her fingers through his thick hair.

"You have another week, Roberto." Dora massaged her fingers lightly through her husbands hair. Roberto turned slightly to catch a glimpse of her face but knew her look without having to see her face. More then likely her lips were rolled together tightly and her eyes would were staring straight down his back. He was certain it was the only time he ever saw wrinkles on Dora’s face, near her eyes; when she wanted an answer right away. He knew better then to look up again.

"Then I have plenty of time to think it through, Dora. No need to hurry and make a hasty decision. That would truly be a mistake." Dora pulled his hair and slapped the top of his head.

"Why did you do that?" Roberto asked swiping at Dora's hand. He tried to pull away from the couch but Dora would not let go. Her fingers were woven through his locks, and every time he moved she yanked a little harder.

"You know why, Roberto. I truly need an answer. Your driving me crazy with your dawdling." She kept her fingers spun through his locks.

"Dawdling?" Roberto asked. "What in the name of the good lord is dawdling" He reached for Dora's hand and turned to look up. She slapped him on the head again and he laughed.

"Exactly what your doing now, Roberto. Procrastinating. Trying to think of every excuse you can except to give me an answer." Dora slapped him one last time and moved to the end of the couch, kicking him lightly in the back as she pushed further away. "Don’t talk to me," Dora said. She raised her head and turned away childishly.

"Don’t smile," Roberto said. "Don’t laugh. It might break that ugly face of yours." Dora giggled, breaking her hard stare.

Roberto turned around and crossed his legs. He leaned back on his hands and stared at his wife's bulging stomach. It was huge. He couldn't imagine her a size bigger. He had never seen a women as big as her. It scared him to think that soon they would have a baby in the house. At the moment it was just the two of them at night. But very soon it would be so much different when he came home from work at night. The men in the village told him that once the baby came it would never be the same between him and Dora ever again. That she would no longer look at him the same way as she had before. Her eyes would be distant and blank, they told him. Roberto was certain he would miss that part of their marriage if it was true. But he was determined to do every thing possible to make sure it didn't happen. Especially in his marriage. He tried to avoid listening to the men, but some of their storiess did register in the back of his mind at night, when he was in bed and tossed and turned for hours before he fell restlessly asleep.

Roberto stared at Dora for the longest time. He loved seeing her hair so shiny. It was the shiniest he had ever seen it. The older women had told her that it happened to almost every woman, when they got pregnant. Something in the blood the ladies at the market were always telling Dora. If that was the case, Roberto reasoned, he wanted to see his wife pregnant again. But not as big as this time. Her enormous belly scared him intensely.

"I will go, Dora." Roberto said matter of factly. Dora's eyes were half closed and she opened them slowly. She had heard him speak but she was uncertain as to what he had actually said. She felt like she wanted to close her eyes and fall asleep, but asked: "What did you say, Roberto?"

"I will go, Dora. I will send for you as soon as I find a job and save enough extra money for the two of us."

Dora leaped off the couch and crushed Roberto to the floor. Her stomach pinned him down. He could barely breath under the weight. Dora wrapped her arms around him and kissed him a hundred times. "I love you. I love you. I love you," she sang out over and over. "How much I love you you'll never know. God I love you, Roberto." She continued to kiss him and hug him for minutes.

"Okay, okay." Roberto said. He clamped onto Dora's wrists and pushed her gingerly to the side. He took a deep breath and held his stomach. His face was red but it slowly returned to its natural color. He carefully lifted Dora to a sitting position. He patted her down with his hands, checking to see if all her body parts were okay. When his hands slid over her protruding belly he pulled them away quickly. Gingerly, Dora took them in her own and laid them on top of her stomach.

"Quiet Roberto. Shoo. Just feel your son. He will kick very soon. Just feel with your hands and your soul. Let your heart be felt by him." Roberto sat motionless as Dora glided his hands over her womb. She moved them in a circular motion then pressed them down, near her side. Roberto felt her warm skin and it made his hands feel good.

"There Roberto," she said, pressing his palms firmly to her stomach. "Feel your son."

Roberto’s jaw dropped. He opened his mouth wide. The swift kick from inside the womb moved his thumb completely off Dora’s belly. A succession of weak kicks followed. And each one brought on another amazed expression. "He must be a strong boy, Dora. Have you ever felt such a kick before?" Roberto moved his face closer to his hands and waited anxiously as he smiled.

"I have felt the kicks way too many times darling," Dora answered. "Many more then I wish to count. And they are coming closer together now. I will have to admit that they are a little more painful then before. The day will be here before we know it." Roberto's face turned to one of concern.

"You needn’t worry Roberto, the day will be here and gone before you know what ever happened." Dora smiled, and Roberto wondered what could cause his wife to have such a sense of humor at a time when he was feeling so much stress.

"Are you sure about your decision to go to America?" Dora watched Roberto's expression change from one kick to the next.

"I have thought about it every working hour while I am out in the fields, sweetheart. It has been a decision that I have wrestled with ever since Marie told us she could get us the papers through her uncle in Mersalles. My only wish is that we could go together. I might miss my son being born and that burdens my soul more then anything else. So much is happening too quick. It only seems like yesterday that Marie was here telling us the good news about America, and now I must pack for the journey that I’ve always dreamed of but hesitated to take. My soul is being tugged night and day. I’m sick inside. I can barely eat." Roberto scooted back against the couch and pulled Dora close to him.

"If you don’t go now Roberto the chance may never come again for us. Remember, Marie’s uncle is very old and he has had numerous health problems for many years now. God forbid, his time might come at any moment, and then our opportunity would be lost in a second. It sounds selfish, but we must move quickly if our dreams are to become a reality. We've talked about this for so many years now." Dora sat up straight and felt the baby roll into a new position. She felt much more comfortable, and even felt stabs of hunger pains strike her for the first time in many days. She thought a nice piece of chocolate cake would be good. And some vanilla pudding along with it sounded even better.

"Marie says her uncle has told her nothing but good stories about America. He's told her it’s a land filled with opportunities and that everyone has a chance with their life there." Dora relaxed into her husbands arm and snuggled up close on his shoulder. "She says everyone has work, and that at the end of the week when the men get paid, that they actually have extra money in their pockets after paying the rent. Remember all the pictures of the cars in the magazine?" Dora propped herself up excitedly and Roberto pulled her back slowly into his arm. "Marie says you can take out a loan with the bank if you have a good job and make payments on a new car. A brand new one, Roberto! Can you believe that? We could never do that living here. And America has paved roads everywhere, Marie says. We could go to the country and have picnics just like the pictures in the magazine. I’m excited for us, Roberto. So excited. It will finally be our dream come true."

Roberto nodded his head with each excited detail. Dora was quite the ecstatic child tonight. He had not seen her so full of energy since before the pregnancy. For the last three months she had been lethargic as she grew by the months. But now she was rejuvenated with the good news that they would be able to start their lives fresh with their new child. In a land that was alive and at least offered the remnant of some hope, he assumed.

"Your so quiet darling," Dora said, pushing herself closer to Roberto's chest. "Is something bothering you? I thought you would be so full of joy. You sounded convinced just a few minutes ago when you told me about your decision. Are you sure, Roberto? Don't do something your not sure of." Dora rested her head comfortably and stroked Roberto's stomach with her open hand. She felt his heart beating strongly.

"I worry for you Dora. About our child. I worry if I will ever see you and our baby again if I should leave. You never know what might happen. If I was to lose you and our son now I don't think I could continue. Even if I was in America. The land of so many opportunities," Roberto mocked. "That's what the say in the magazine, isn't it?"

"Yes, that's what they say in the magazine, sweetheart. But nothing will happen to your son, or me. Everything will work out fine. I'll have Marie with me the whole time your gone. And when the baby comes we'll already be in Mersilles. The doctor has assured me that I can make the trip without you having to worry one second."

"What?" Roberto said, sounding flabbergasted.

"Oops," Dora said covering her mouth and closing her eyes. "I was going to tell you, but I thought I'd wait for the right time. Anyway, I had this feeling you might say yes, so I talked to the doctor and he said it would be fine for me travel to Mersalles." Dora lifted her head. She smiled and giggled like an innocent little girl who knew along that she was guilty. She covered her mouth with her hand and layed her head back down. "But only if Marie traveles with me," Dora added, giving Roberto the added assurance he needed. "The doctor was insistent about that."

"I know it would be fine for you to travel," Roberto said. I have already talked to the doctor myself."

"I should have known," Dora said, raising herself up. She slapped Roberto teasingly on the arm. "I should have known. You always think of everything."

"We leave in four days for Mersalles," Roberto said matter-of-factly without flinching a muscle or skipping a beat. Tomorrow is Friday. It will be my last day. I will take my wages from Pierre, the thief, and tell him I'm finished. He will be mad with me for not telling him ahead of time, but if I was to have given him any kind of notice he would have fired me sooner. And there is always that possibility that he might try to cheat me on my wages or even deny me of them. You know the kind of man Pierre is, Dora." Roberto let out a breath in disgust.

"Yes, I certainly know how you feel about Pierre. But count yourself lucky, Roberto. Most men would never get the opportunity your going to have. It's finally your dream come true to life. You will never see old man Bourges struggle at the well again. You will never have to climb to the top of the hill and look down at your home and become depressed. Your life will begin again, and this time you will make it better. So much better she said, yawning."

Dora closed her eyes. She was tired and her stomach felt heavy. The length of the day put her to sleep swiftly. Roberto look intently at the flames licking at the logs. They hypnotized him with a flurry of oranges and blues. He felt his eyes become heavy. He reached for a blanket behind his head and covered Dora tenderly, tucking the edges in tightly around her outline. He pulled the remainder of the blanket across his shoulder and shut his eyes. He transcended into a deep dream of how he had stolen Dora away from the rich land owner, Miguel Estrada, in the north of Spain. Roberto slept soundly enjoying his conquest over the rich landowner.

"I can’t believe it," Roberto said stepping into the cottage and placing his boots by the rack.

"Believe what?" Dora asked. She reached up for a hug and Roberto squeezed her lightly with one arm.

"Pierre," Roberto said with an indifferent look across his face.

"What about Pierre?" Dora took the lunch box from Roberto’s hand and led him to the kitchen. He watched his wife move slowly, she was excited to hear all Roberto had to say. Her eyes were happy, and her countenance was aglow.

Roberto leaned against the kitchen counter, and over his shoulder Dora watched Louie labor toward the well. She turned away and looked up at Roberto. Roberto kissed her on the forehead.

"That was sweet," Dora said. She stretched up on her toes and kissed him on the lips. "So tell me about Pierre," she said, closing the curtain window.

Roberto turned and opened the curtain as he watched Louie struggle with the bucket. He wondered how much longer the old man might live. Louie was beginning to show his years. Deep sags underneath his eyes were melting onto his cheeks like warm butter left out on the stove. With every other step Louie had to stop to catch his breath with labored gasps. His hands were barely able to hold on to the bucket with his bony fingers, and Roberto was sure that before he reached the well he would drop it at least once, if not twice. Roberto thought that if he had the money he would take Louie with him, but knew it was impossible. What money he had would barely get Dora and himself on the ship. And he needed the rest for when he got to America, for food and rent. Roberto felt it his duty to help. He turned to go outside. Dora latched onto his wrist with her tiny hand. She pulled at his sleeve and pointed out the kitchen window. A young lad with short red hair and a face full of freckles across his nose stopped his bicycle and took the bucket from Louie’s hand. He filled it quickly then walked Louie back to his cottage as he pushed the bicycle and held the bucket to the seat. The lad never dropped a drop. Roberto sensed Louie was telling the young boy the story of his cane, because he showed it to the boy several times emphatically as he held it out.

"I will never see Louie again," Roberto said sadly. "I will miss his strong will and determination. I only hope that my son will be as strong as he is, someday."

"Or stronger," Dora added.

"Or stronger," Roberto said. "Or stronger."

"Now tell me about Pierre," Dora said. "Tell me everything about your last day." She began washing out the lunchbox as Roberto leaned against the counter and crossed his arms over his chest.

"You will not believe this," Roberto said shaking his head back and forth. Dora braced herself for the worst. She had waited anxiously for the day to end. She prayed that the news she was about to hear would be good. But her first impression by the look on Roberto’s face told her to be strong, that she was about to hear only bad news. She placed the lunchbox in the bottom of the sink and squeezed the dish rag tightly. The water trickled down the drain in a slow stream. She closed her eyes and prayed.

Roberto reached into his pocket. He pulled his hand out quickly. He slowly opened it in front of Dora’s closed eyes. "From Pierre," he said laughing. "Come on, open your eyes, woman." She held onto her stomach lightly, afraid to look. The baby gave a light kick.

Astonished, Dora covered her mouth. She was unsure of the amount but the top bill was a one hundered dollar bill. And the pile was at least an inch think. She touched the top bill with her fingertip and Roberto snapped his fingers around them quickly. Dora laughed as she heard the bill crinkle in Roberto’s hand. She knew how Roberto was with money. Ever so thrifty. Not even a large amount could temp him to splurge, not even a little.

"Not from Pierre?" she asked.

"I could not believe it myself," Roberto said. "I am still in disbelief."

Roberto counted the money out loud, bill by bill, handing them to Dora as he did so.

"I’m not finished, Dora," Roberto said. He counted the last bill and handed it over. Dora held the money tightly and moved away from the sink, afraid that she might drop it in the water by accident. "More?" she asked, wrapping both hands around the money securely. She looked at Roberto’s pance pocket to see if there was a bulge in his pocket that she had overlooked.

"No," Roberto said. "What you have is all of it. But it will do us well. A thousand dollars will take us a long way. Passage, food, and rent money in America till I get my first pay."

The way Roberto spoke made it seem that he already had a job waiting for him in America. He pulled a neatly folded letter from his pocket and handed it to Dora.

"It’s a job with Pierre’s half brother in America," Roberto said. And a temporary place for us to stay till we find what we need." Roberto raised his eyebrows. He was anxious for Dora’s approval.

"Why is he doing this Roberto?" Dora asked. "What is the catch?" Dora took a big breath. She looked at the money then glanced at the letter of recommendation. "None of this makes any sense, Roberto. It doesn’t make any sense what so ever. Pierre has hated your exsistance since the day you started working for him, and now he is showering us with gifts of money and a place to live in America. I find it all too hard to believe." Dora shoved the money and letter back. Her arms were straight and rigged. She shook her head feverishly back and forth. "No! This makes no sense at all." She turned and walked away from the counter area. Roberto caught her by the arm lightly.

"You didn’t even read the letter, sweetheart.

"Do I need to?" she asked, her face sullen.

"No, but you might find it interesting. I did." Dora looked down at the letter and took hold of it. She opened it carefully, looking at it as if it were an old treasure map. She read slowly, outloud at first, then drifted in to silence.

Dearest Pierre and long time friend,

I have worked for you for many years now, and you have always been honest with me. And I to you as well. My years of loyal service to you have been with an honest effort to do a good days work for the fair amount of pay that you give to me. And I have never complained about such. And never shall I. I am an honest man, and know that you are as well.

I would be indebted to you for hiring my son if you could find it in your heart to do so. How much you will never know. My only hope is that he will be a good worker and serve you well. I know my boy well. He does have a good heart. He may complain at times, but I pray that you will bear with him, and look the other way if at all possible. He has always been the rebellious sort. At times it has served him well to be so. And then there were those times....well, you know....you had a son before the war began.

I feel my time is short, Pierre, and only wish the best for my son. He is a changed man since he returned from the war, as we have all changed during these years.

This large amount of money that I entrust to you is to be given to him when you think it would do him the best possible good. And only then! I want him to remember that I was always considering his lot in life, for the rest of his life. I consider you the best friend that I have on the earth, Pierre. I think I shall be dead soon from this terrible epidemic they are calling the flu. My body aches and I am barely able to write this. I will probably be dead by the time you receive this.

May the good lord above have mercy upon your soul, and may you have many years of health and prosperity.

Sincerely

Dora reread several of the paragraphs through again. A sad tear flowed down her cheek from the corner of her eye. Roberto wiped it dry. "Of all the years I have know Pierre," Dora said, "I would never have suspected that he would give you the money your father wanted you to have." Dora handed the letter to husband.

"Nor I," Roberto said. "It is beyond me. I do know that my father had great respect for Pierre when he was alive, but I am unable to imagine how my father could trust such a man. Never in my life would I do such a thing."

The period Roberto worked for Pierre flashed quickly in front of him. The first few months were good. The money each week was little, but paid the bills. There was even enough to put some away for a little saving. Yet there were never any increases in the pay as the months turned to years. At first the work hours increased slowly, as if Pierre was tacking them on a little at a time, so as not to be noticed. Two years later, Roberto was at work before the sun rose, and was getting home just as it was about to set, six days a week. Pierre would have asked for seven days, but Roberto told him outright that he wouldn't work on the Sabbath, gods day of rest.

Roberto stood up against Pierre whenever he deemed it necessary. It was the sole reason Pierre, deep inside of his heart, hated Roberto with every breath that he took. When he wanted his workers to work longer hours it was Roberto who spoke up against it, pulling the men together in a united front. When they demanded longer lunch periods, it was again Roberto who spoke out first, leading the men on in their fight. Roberto was a natural leader of men, and Pierre detested him for it. Only his conscious drove him to give Roberto the money, nothing more. Only he and no one else knew of the letter and money Roberto's father had given him. Now he would be done with Roberto once and for all and never have to deal with him again. His brother might find some use for him in America. If not, he could kick Roberto out and put him on the streets as he felt. Pierre was happy that Roberto was leaving forever. Now he could work his men and boys in whatever manner he desired without having to worry about one man trying to lead a revolt at every turn of the way.