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Leo’s dad Benito was a drunk, a mean drunk. Leo got the belt from an early age, for being too slow to fetch his next beer, for giving a cross look, but usually for no reason at all. When he was 13, Leo heard his mom crying in the front room. His dad was looming over her, getting ready for the next punch. Leo rushed in, and as his staggering father turned around, Leo cold-cocked him, hard, in his face. He went down like a wet sack of mud, out cold. His nose was flat, and blood was pouring from his face.
Rosario, Leo’s mom, looked up. “Mijo, what have you done? This will make things so much worse!”
“No, this is going to stop now.”
Leo took Benito outside and tied his hands and feet. Then he called his six uncles, Benito’s brothers, and told them to get the whole family over. “Bring tequila,” Leo told them.
Within an hour, twenty five of Leo’s family had gathered in the back yard. Leo’s mom was sitting in a cracked plastic chair, her face swollen and bruised, still crying.
Benito was awake by then, in a violent rage and cursing. The sun was just rising. He called the family together, forming a semicircle around the bound Benito. Everyone grew quiet, even Benito.
Leo began, “This ends now. Father, from this day forward your name will be ‘Chato,’ so that you will always be reminded of the shame you have brought upon yourself and your family.” Benito let out a stream a Spanish curses. “I’m gonna kill you,” he snarled.
“We’ll see,” said Leo. Then he turned to his family. “Who brought tequila?” Quite a few had brought bottles, thinking the gathering was going to be an impromptu party. Uncle Tomas, the oldest uncle, stepped forward, a bit confused. “Here you go.” He handed the bottle to Leo.
Leo unscrewed the lid and walked over to his father. “You are going to drink.” He forced the bottle into Benito’s mouth and poured tequila down his throat. Within a few minutes, Benito had passed out.
“Now we wait,” announced Leo.
The vigil began. Leo’s six uncles somberly conferred. They were all tired of Benito, but until this morning had no idea of the abuse he was leveling on his family. Three of the uncles took off in their trucks. “They’ll be back soon,” Uncle Tomas told Leo.
The aunts gathered round Rosario. There were many tears. Even with her injuries, Rosario’s thoughts were on Leo. “Son, be so careful. He can be so wild.”
Two hours later the three uncles returned. They were towing a smoker and had brought groceries. They set up the smoker in the back yard and lit the coals. They set up a keg. The women and children strung papel picado the uncles had brought. It’s eight in the morning, thought Leo. How did the uncles manage this? To Leo, his uncles were magical men, brujos.
Benito was coming around. Leo gathered the group again. “Water!” demanded the bound Benito, but was ignored. Uncle Tomas came forward holding the bottle of tequila and said, “No water for you. You have brought shame to the Flores name. You have battered your beautiful Rosario. There is no water for you.” A couple uncles held Benito and forced open his mouth. Uncle Tomas poured tequila down Benito’s throat. And then more. And more. After a few minutes Benito passed out again.
Uncle Tomas walked over to Leo. “We need to move him into the shade. We don’t want to kill him. And put him on his side; we don’t want this borracho choking on his guácara.”
The day progressed into the evening. Each uncle in turn forced tequila down Benito’s throat. Benito begged for water. The family ate carnitas and tortillas and salsa. The uncles passed out candy to the kids. It was weird – a fiesta all the while Benito was bound and passed out on the porch.
By mid-afternoon, Benito’s cursing had ended and he was begging for mercy. At sundown they gave him water.
By that evening, as the moon rose over Loving County, Benito was covered in piss and vomit. Again the uncles conferred, with Uncle Tomas leading the hushed discussions. It was decided that Uncle Leo (Leo’s namesake) would take Benito back to his ranch. Uncle Leo was the youngest of the brothers, and the biggest. At 270 pounds, he was a gentle giant, but not to be pushed. Uncle Leo’s wife Tencha would stay with Rosario and the family. “I’ve got some fence posts that need to be dug,” said Uncle Leo.
Leo never saw his father again. Benito woke up at Uncle Leo’s ranch two days later, humbled and repentant. He was always repentant after his benders, but it never lasted. After a few weeks of digging fence posts under the eye of Uncle Leo, he left during the night, never to be heard from again.
Rosario’s bruises faded. Rosario made Leo promise he would never use violence to solve a problem. After a month of helping Rosario and Leo heal, Tía Tencha returned home. The Uncles made sure Rosario and Leo had enough. Summers were hot and winters cold, and Leo grew.
