Panfelita’s white rooster

By kiki

Our next-door neighbor when we were living in Simons in the 1940s-'50s was a little old lady named Panfela; we called her Panfelita. Panfelita lived by herself, and when she needed something from the Mom & Pop stores up the hill, she would ask me to go for her; she would ask me two or three times a day, so, two or three times a day, I would jump on my bike and go to the store for her. When I would come back and give her whatever she had ordered, she would tell me in Spanish, "que te lo paga Dios, Mijo," but she never gave me a penny so that I could buy candy. I loved the sweets!

 Panfelita's Big White Rooster.

There were many open lands in Simons, and the streets were all dirt; we didn't have street signs or street lights. So nights, we young kids would get together in an empty lot and light up a lumbrita (small fire); one boring night at la lumbrita, one of the guys got an idea, "let's go steal Panfelita's white rooster, and we'll cook him here en la lumbrita." 

So here we go, about 4-5 of us kids; now this rooster was big and mean, so nobody wanted to go into the coop and get him. Finally, Gilbert, who we called Pachie, said he would go into the pen; now, Pachie was the smallest of us guys; I don't think he weighed more than 70 lbs. Pachie went into the coop, and suddenly there was a cloud of dust, and all we could see was Pachie's tiny feet in their worn-out shoe sticking out of the dust cloud. After a bruising struggle, Pachie won the fight and got the rooster, but let me tell you, that rooster beat the living hell out of Pachie. He didn't go quietly.

We plucked, roasted, and ate the rooster.

The following morning my Mom and Panfelita were talking over the backyard fence; I noticed Panfelita was crying, so I walked up to them and asked, "what's wrong?" my Mom looked at me and said, "somebody stole her rooster." 

My Mom gave me that look that told me she knew I had something to do with the missing bird.

Looking back, I feel bad for stealing Panfelita's rooster, but we were not bad kids; I would like to think that we were just a little mischievous and misunderstood while growing up in a harsh and challenging environment.