The Guardians: A Novel

The Guardians: A Novel

Language: English

Pages: 240

ISBN: 0812975715

Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub

The Guardians: A Novel

Language: English

Pages: 240

ISBN: 0812975715

Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub


From American Book Award-winning author Ana Castillo comes a suspenseful, moving novel about a sensuous, smart, and fiercely independent woman. Eking out a living as a teacher’s aide in a small New Mexican border town, Tía Regina is also raising her teenage nephew, Gabo, a hardworking boy who has entered the country illegally and aspires to the priesthood. When Gabo’s father, Rafa, disappears while crossing over from Mexico, Regina fears the worst.

After several days of waiting and with an ominous phone call from a woman who may be connected to a smuggling ring, Regina and Gabo resolve to find Rafa. Help arrives in the form of Miguel, an amorous, recently divorced history teacher; Miguel’s gregarious abuelo Milton; a couple of Gabo’s gangbanger classmates; and a priest of wayward faith. Though their journey is rife with challenges and danger, it will serve as a remarkable testament to family bonds, cultural pride, and the human experience

Praise for The Guardians

NAMED ONE OF THE BEST BOOKS OF THE YEAR BY THE CHICAGO TRIBUNE

“An always skilled storyteller, [Castillo] grounds her writing in . . . humor, love, suspense and heartache–that draw the reader in.”
Chicago Sunday Sun-Times

“A rollicking read, with jokes and suspense and joy rides and hearts breaking . . . This smart, passionate novel deserves a wide audience.”
–Los Angeles Times

“What drives the novel is its chorus of characters, all, in their own way, witnesses and guardian angels. In the end, Castillo’s unmistakable voice–earthy, impassioned, weaving a ‘hybrid vocabulary for a hybrid people’–is the book’s greatest revelation.”
–Time Out New York

“A wonderful novel . . . Castillo’s most important accomplishment in The Guardians is to give a unique literary voice to questions about what makes up a ‘family.’ ”
–El Paso Times

“A moving book that is both intimate and epic in its narrative.”
–Oscar Hijuelos, author of The Mambo Kings Play Songs of Love

Afterwards

The Best American Short Stories 2012

Everybody's Right

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

unless it was an emergency and only with permission from the growers who hired them. They were promised all kinds of things, too. They thought they'd get pensions. They got nothing, señorita, just a big kick in the trasero back to México when they weren't needed no more. “Where would this país be without the labor of the obrero, especially in agriculture, but in the railroads, factorías, and canneries, too, I ask you, señorita? Up in el Norte, 'onde hace tanto frío, in the steel mills and

said. (How that could be, I was not sure, Santo, since death was never a person to begin with.) “I call her La Niña Blanca,” Tiny Tears said, pulling out a similar pendant hanging on a chain around her neck. “Before I go out, I pray to her.” “You pray to her?” I asked. Tiny Tears nodded. “Hell yeah. I light candles to her and everything.” She kissed the pewter pendant and stuck it back inside her polo. “What do you ask her for?” I asked. “I dunno,” Tiny said, suddenly hesitant. Maybe, I

a perfect voice. It wasn't just my opinion. Everyone was starstruck. Gabo is not a celebrity, but he looked like one con los mariachis. Only one violinist accompanied him, while the other musicians stood by with heads slightly bowed, like they were listening to a prayer. When my Gabo was done, there was still silence. Then all of a sudden an announcement full of static blared out the next competition. When Gabo returned, his cheeks all lit up, I put my arms around his bony frame and squeezed him

we hesitated to get out of the priest's car, he said, “Don't worry, man. The boss ain't here.” “You mean El Toro?” J.B. asked, still in the car. The three of us didn't move, even when Jesse was halfway to the front door. “Naw, man,” the gangbanger said. “El Toro ain't the boss around here. I'm talkin’ about the boss. The one that looks kinda like you… .” He pointed at my ponytail and started laughing. I figured he had to be talking about the coyote back in El Paso, the same one Regina and I met

child. They both laughed. Maybe they had no use for aires of purity. But nothing about the room I found myself in that night or the news we were both preparing for—one to pronounce and the other to accept—was more than what it was. It was just our lives. My father was gone forever. Like crumbs of bread, bits of his soul had been leaving traces for days. A bit had landed on la Winnie la Tuerta's eye and taken it. Another had hummed the young hawk to sleep on the road. Still another piece was now

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