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125 Tamale Ridge by: Chuck Cusimano

Claudia was really showing and acting more like a pregnant woman all the time. Gilberto

stayed excited about the coming of the new arrival. If anyone asked about it, he smiled big and

talked half in English, until his mouth couldn’t keep up with his mind and then he shifted gears,

and went right into Spanish. They wanted to name the baby, if it was a boy, “Gideon Juan

Martinez”. As flattered as I was, I couldn’t see making that poor boy go through life with a

name like that.

“But Señor, you have done so much for us. Claudia and me,” Gilberto said.

“And Juan is much like a father, or an uncle,” he added.

“If you name him that, I hope you come up with a good nickname,” I said.

“What is this….nickname? Señor.”

“It is a short name. A….A name that is easier to say than his real name.” I said.

“What would you want to be named if you could have chosen your own name?” I asked him.

“I have never thought about it,” he said, “A name is a name.”

“Well, think about it for a while, you don’t have to be in a hurry. The baby won’t be here till

sometime in June,” I said. June was just over two months away.

I felt so proud of Gilberto. He studied his lessons with enthusiasm. He not only could read

and write in Spanish, as well as English, he had a gift for numbers. He would figure something

in his head as fast as, or faster than I could do it on paper. When we fed the cattle and counted

them, he came up with a total quicker than I could and he wasn’t writing them down like I was.

He continued to write to Olivia and she was anxious to come to New Mexico.

Claudia learned quite a bit, but I always had the feeling she was bashful about it. She acted

like she didn’t want to take a chance of embarrassing herself, if she said something wrong.

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