Shepherds Abiding in Dry Creek

Becky didn’t always end up with a matching outfit, but she liked to dress herself and Marla encouraged her to be independent.

After Becky left, Marla turned to Sammy. “Is there something you need to tell me?”

“Nah,” Sammy muttered, his face flushing.

Marla counted to three. “Did you take a shepherd from the church’s Nativity scene?”

Sammy’s face got redder. “It’s just a stupid shepherd. They don’t even exist anymore. At least, not anywhere except in Mexico. I mean, who needs them? We’re through with that life. We’re turning white.”

Marla kept her voice even. “Just because we moved up here, it doesn’t mean that we’re not still part Hispanic.”

Sammy grunted. “I haven’t seen any amigos around.”

No one would know Sammy was Hispanic by looking at him. She knew he identified himself with his old amigos, but maybe it was time for them all to step away from their background a little bit.

“You’ll meet some new friends when you go to school.”

“Yeah, right.”

“We’re not ashamed of being Hispanic.” Marla tried again. “We’re just getting to know people slow and easy. We don’t need to be any particular ethnic group for a while.”

Sammy grunted.

Marla decided she couldn’t talk about their heritage all morning.

“You know it’s wrong to take things that don’t belong to you. We’ll go over to the café and talk to the deputy who was here asking about the shepherd. Then you’ll give the shepherd back and we’ll talk about what your punishment will be.”

Marla was hoping that if Sammy confessed to what he had done and returned the shepherd, no charges would be filed. She didn’t know how much the Nativity figure was worth, but she doubted it had a high enough value to make this anything but a misdemeanor. Once they figured that out, she’d talk more with Sammy about his other feelings.

“I could give up Christmas,” Sammy offered. “Not that it’s going to be anything, anyway.”

“I’m hoping to make sweet pork tamales,” Marla said.

Sammy looked up. “With the green chilies?”

Marla nodded. “If I can find a nice pork roast to use in the filling.”

“Well, maybe I could give up Christmas after the tamales are all gone.”

Marla smiled. “We’ll talk.”

Marla wondered how she could make Sammy feel more at home in Dry Creek. She knew he missed his friends. Even though those friends were not good for him, he was still entitled to miss them. A few days ago he’d gotten a letter from a boy back in Los Angeles. Sammy had protested, but eventually he’d agreed to let her read the note about some baseball, his lucky baseball, that he’d left behind and how the boy was going to get it to him soon.

At least Sammy had one friend there who didn’t sound like a gang member. She hoped baseball wasn’t gang code for something else. She couldn’t forbid Sammy to have contact with everybody, though. A boy needed some friends, and the note sounded fine. Maybe she had been wrong to postpone school for him by the few weeks that she had. Of course, it was too late to change that now. The classes would be on Christmas break next week, anyway.

“Let’s see if Becky is ready,” Marla said. “We want to go over while the sheriff is at the café.”

“He’s not a regular lawman, is he?” Sammy asked with a frown. “He doesn’t look like the police or anything.”

“I suspect he’s close enough to the real thing.”

“I’m not afraid of him,” Sammy announced.

Marla figured her son was lying about not being afraid when he took Becky’s hand to hold while they walked down the street to the café. He shrugged off the hand Marla tried to rest on his shoulder, but she was glad he had Becky’s hand at least.

They had to pass the church to reach the café and Marla looked over at the Nativity set. Since the church was on the same side of the road as her house, she couldn’t see the lighted figures from her windows. It was nice just knowing they were there, though. She’d heard someone say that the whole town of Dry Creek planned to sing carols around the Nativity set on Christmas Eve.