Dreaming About My Home
My name is Luis Terrazas. The year is 1839, I was about ten years old. I remember being so happy fishing that morning. I thought I was the greatest diver. My family and I lived on Island Mujeres in the Caribbean Sea. We were on the north end of the island. My family were the only people that lived there. The water was crystal clear and the reef so teaming with life.
It starting to get very dark and it was still day. I gathered all my fish and went home.
When I got home, it was on fire and my dad was dead. My mom and sisters were nowhere to be found. Dad was run through with a sword. I buried him.
The storm was upon me. Everything that I had was gone and I was afraid. I became too tired, I fell asleep.
The next morning came and I looked all over the island for my family. Some people reported seeing a pirate ship. I saw nothing and went back to fishing because I needed food.
Thinking about what to do, I paddled out further than I have ever been. Not knowing what drove me, I dropped my anchor. Over I went; I saw in the distance a figure. It was a sunken ship. I could read on the stern of the ship, the name “Fanny”. Swimming up, my lungs were about to burst and then my head broke the surface and I gulped a large breath of air.
I threw my hand over my boat while grasping onto a French flag that I picked up from the ship underwater. I dove back again, into the hold and my eyes lit up…the entire bottom of the ship was covered in silver coins. At that point, all I could think about was my family. I just gained the whole world yet still had nothing.
Back to my home I went. Nothing but emptiness. A plan began to form while I was laying there in the stable.
The next day I went back and dove to gather buckets of silver coins. I took them to the south end of the island in a cart. There I purchased wooden barrels. Now, I thought I needed help. I located other boys, like myself down at the dock needing work. I then hired them and told them where to take the barrels.
As I was passing through the town to get us all some food, I saw a guitar. I bought it, on the cart it went and I journeyed back home.
As time went on, something began to happen; those that I hired became my family. We dove into the depths and built our wealth. My clan decided to move to Mexico, to a place called Chihuahua in the Sierra Tarchmuara Mountains.
I gave my new brothers a wagon of silver each and told them to go about, purchasing all the land that could be bought in all directions. After they had returned, I was the owner of seven million acres. I was now known as Don Luis Terrazas.
We were having a great celebration one evening when the infamous Poncho Villa visited us. Poncho approached me with disgust stating, “Who do you think you are?” I replied, “I lost everything and now Chihuahua es mio! Chihuahua is mine!”
I had built a grand gate at the entrance of Terrazas Ranch with garden terraces surrounding our chapel and some of the other buildings. It was a remarkable sight until the revolution began and it endured for years. During one of the battles, I was terribly wounded; only to be saved by Poncho himself.
Now, at the end of my life, one of my favorite times is to stand at the main gates of my home and thinking about my family. How they would love Terrazas Ranch. I sing to them because now, I am not alone.
Is this story fact or fiction? It’s your choice. The artist, Earl W. Pruett uses the technique that he has named “run through boarder”.