JURACÁN

by R. Narvaez

I’d never seen so many dead dogs on the side of a road as in Puerto Rico. The strays must go out of their way to kill themselves. Or maybe Puerto Ricans just don’t like dogs. I was in a cramped rental car, driving my three aunts to my cousin’s wedding in Ponce. It was a ten-minute ride, and I’d already seen four dog carcasses. Tongues hanging out. Guts. Blood. It took some of the buzz off.

“Qué pasó con los jodio peros en la highway?” I said.

“Se dice perrrrros,” my Titi Juana said.

“Perrrrrros,” I tried.

“Perros,” Titi Gloria said.

Then Tíia Nidia said, “No sé, mi amor. Toda la gente manejan como loco aquí.”

I could see how the roads in PR could drive you crazy. There wasn’t always a traffic light where you needed it. A lot of the blacktop hugged the sides of mountains and were crazy-narrow so that your side-view mirror hung over a thousand-foot drop into nothing but jungle.

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“Brand-new stories by: Mistina Bates, Jean Rae Baxter, Lawrence Block, Joseph Bruchac, David Cole, Reed Farrel Coleman, O’Neil De Noux, A.A. Hedge Coke, Gerard Houarner, Liz Martinez, R. Narvaez, Kimberly Roppolo, Leonard Schonberg, and Melissa Yi. With a foreword by Richard B. Williams, president & CEO of the American Indian College Fund.” Edited by the salacious Sarah Cortez and lascivious Liz Martinez.