Mi hermano has not returned. Mi hermana pequeña spoke to me yesterday, she asked, “will I ever see mi hermano again?” She did not cry, her eyes did not water. She asked me, simple as that. Mi madre has been keeping herself busy with wash and mixing herbs with the remaining straps of monstruo we had left. I do feel guilty. I had been experimenting more, departing to xseño, and my duties to my family have began to lag behind. Not anymore. 

   Two of el jefe’s gang came to our front puerto. I made mi madre go in the back room with the niños, mi hermano, QuiQue, standing with me.  Dirt covers these chicos faces. The roofs that el jefe supplies are strong but they are built in the muck, from mud and blood. Los chicos sleep there after hunting, after killing, with their filthy fingers they lay to rest under el jefe’s dwelling. I knew they had come to bring news of Eloy and why he has been missing. “Tu hermano es salvo.” Safe, the best thing I could know for mi hermano. But I also knew there would be more. El jefe’s messengers explained that he wanted the special drug they have been hearing about. My xseño, of course, I knew it would come to this if I gave it away at all. I have until today sundown to produce twenty pills, where as I only have twenty five on hand now, there goes my supply. My payment? Eloy stays alive. There is nothing to fight, I do not think, but I know that this will become the demise for all I wanted for xseño.