A Definition for Women Hollering Creek

I can’t believe that I am home now.  It feels weird to be under my father’s roof again.  My father could see the bruising on my arms and back and quickly realized why I had come home.  The woman who picked me up was unlike any other woman that I have met, she was independent.  Her name was Felice, she owned a truck and lived on her own with no man to take care of her.  You know that creek that I told you about?  When we drove away from town on the way to San Antonio we passed over it and Felice let out a loud holler.  At that moment I realized that the name of the creek is what ever each individual decides it to be.  The woman Hollering can be in pain, anger, excitement, turmoil, and any other emotion that compels one to let out a good wail.  For me the creek was La Llorona hollering to leave and save Juan Pedrito and the baby on the way.  The creek is my holler out of pain from the abuse, shame from my marriage, anger for the way Juan Pedro treats our family, and joy for having the courage to leave and save my son.  


Are people in town talking about me?  I took Juan Pedrito to get a Popsicle yesterday so I am sure that the word is out that I am home.  I miss you Chela, hope to see you soon. 

Love,

Cleofílas

Bags Packed

I told the nurse, I told her about the abuse and she actually wanted to help me.  I had an overwhelming rise of emotions that caused me to breakdown and spill my guts about the horror story my life has become.  She called one of her friends to pick me up tomorrow morning and take me to a bus station in San Antonio.  I am terrified.  What if he catches me?  What if one of his friends sees me?  I can’t even imagine what he would do to me if he knew I was leaving.  I have been trembling in fear ever since I left the appointment. 


I am also worried about what people in our town will think of me for coming home.  I know my father will welcome me but life will be so different now that I have Juan Pedrito and a baby on the way.  Do you think people will think that I am a failure because I did not “stick” by my husband’s side?  If they only knew what I have been through…

Love,

Cleofílas

Juan Pedrito was playing with my camera as I was packing our bags... He does not understand what is going on.  

La Llorona?

He threw a book at me.  Not just any book, a love story.  My only escape from what my life has become.  It is as if I am in a telanovela myself.  Stuck in turmoil except there is no love left and no happy ending in the future.  I thought for some time that he would change but I have learned that I am truly stuck in this hellhole. 

I went to the creek again today.  I wonder if the Woman Hollering could be La Llorona from the story we were told about as kids, the one who drowned her children and now weeps because of her loss.  Maybe this is my message to save my son and escape the horrible life we all have in store for us.  I am pregnant again.  I have a doctor’s appointment scheduled for next week and I need to go.  I had to beg Juan Pedro to take me for the better of our baby.  He is worried that I will shame him or divulge that he beats me.  I am terrified to tell a soul about what occurs behind closed doors so even if I had the opportunity I doubt that I would I have the courage to.  I mean who would want to help me anyways?

Love,

Cleofílas

Juan Pedrito loves to play by the river

Baby Boy

It amazes me that about year ago Juan Pedro was the man of my dreams.  How could this be the man I have waited my whole life for?  I try and force myself to see the good in him but it is nearly impossible to see why I was ever in love with this violent creature. How could I have fallen in love with a man who did not have a touch of romance in his blood when that alone is what I live for?  It is not like he is the handsome suave type that swept me off my feet.  He is rude, short and has a belly.  He is demanding, and makes caring for my father and brothers seem like a cakewalk.  He is my provider and I suppose I should be grateful that he earns money for food and shelter. 

On a positive note, my son, beautiful Juan Pedrito is healthy and happy.  Juan Pedro does not show much affection towards him.  He leaves the house often to get away from the constant cries.  He acts as though I should have the magic maternal touch to calm him.  He is three months old now and has a huge smile that reminds me of my fathers.  Chela, I miss home.  You, my family, and the feeling of safety and love.  My feelings of unconditional love for Juan Pedrito are all that keep me going…

Love,

Cleofílas

Juan Pedrito

Belly

You know how last time I wrote to you I said I would leave if he touched me again…It happened again and I am still here.  I am pregnant now.  I’m am six months along and I am starting to show in my belly and my pants are tight.  I thought that things would change because I am pregnant, I am carrying HIS child, but he continues to physically and verbally abuse me.  I walk to the river to clear my head but I still can’t find the meaning behind the name.  I am lost Chela, I almost wish I could go home.  I don’t have much time to write today.  If he finds out that I am telling you this stuff I have no idea what will happen. 

Love,

Cleofílas

I asked one of the neighbor ladies to take a picture of my belly. I wish you were here to go through this pregnancy by my side like we always planned...

The Unthinkable

Chela.  I have not had the courage to write to you about what has happened.  You need to promise to not tell the town about the flaws of my marriage and keep them to yourself.  I know it is fun to gossip but this is my business, I can’t have my father find out. 

He hit me.  Remember watching that telenovela when we were 13 and Maria’s love struck her? Remember how we made a pack that we would fight against anyone that tried to hurt us?  Well, I just froze.  I didn’t know what to do.  I was speechless and numb.   He split my lip for no reason at all and the next thing I knew I was consoling him while he profusely apologized for what he had done.  I had to forgive him right?  I mean he felt awful for doing it and he said he was tense from work.  It has been two weeks now and he has been sweet to me.  If he touches me again, you can bet I will be out the door before he can stop me.  I hope you are doing well. 

Love,

Cleofílas

I find peace in sitting by the river, wondering what the name could mean and how it relates to me.  

The River

Chela!!! Thank you so much for camera.  It is the best wedding gift I could have asked for.  I have been using it quite a bit lately and I will post pictures to my blog.  Things are wonderful.  You will love marriage once you find the right man.  We are settled into the house now.  Juan Pedro wants me to wait before I start rearranging things; I understand that he just wants me to settle in.  I will make the house “ours” soon enough.   On the way to Seguín we crossed over a beautiful creek that Juan Pedro pointed out to me, he called it La Gritona.  At first I thought that “woman hollering” was quite a silly name for a creek, but now I am curious about the name.  I wonder why she was hollering…was she angry or in pain? 

I met a couple of the neighbor ladies last week.  They are nice.  One is a widow.  I don’t know much about her late husband though.  The other neighbor is Dolores.  She lost both her sons in the last war and is a widow now.  Poor woman.  I have no idea what I would do without my husband and can’t imagine what it would feel like to loose him.  I tried to ask the ladies if they knew anything about the name of the river but neither of them could remember.  I guess I will just have to interpret the meaning for myself.  Here is a picture of the river…

Love,

Cleofílas

A picture on the beach

Women Hollering Creek