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Zusatztext Francine Prose O, The Oprah Magazine Vivid, juicy, and extremely appealing....Chávez has created a wonderfully plausible and full-bodied character...[and] given us a funny, delightful, and ultimately moving meditation on the difference and the distance between reality and fantasy, love and lust, real life and the movies. Informationen zum Autor Denise Chavez Klappentext In the soothing darkness of her local theater, thirty-something teacher's aide and divorcée Teresina "Tere" Ávila looks straight into the smoldering eyes of Pedro Infante and wonders where her life has gone. The impossibly handsome Mexican singer and movie icon died in 1957, but to Tere -- secretary of the Pedro Infante fan club chapter 256 -- he remains an everlasting symbol of the possibility of passion beyond her New Mexico town.Tere's passions are wasted on Lucio, the married lover who plies her with sweet kisses and false promises. Comfort comes in her adoration for Infante and in the companionship of her best friend, Irma "La Wirma" Granados. Then, one night at the Border Cowboy Truck Stop, Tere is forced to confront reality -- and the choices she must make to reclaim her life. Leseprobe Chapter One: ¡Híjole! In the Darkness In the darkness of El Colón movie theater, larger than life and superimposed on a giant screen, Pedro Infante, the Mexican movie star, stares straight at me with his dark, smoldering eyes. It is here in the sensuous shadows that I forget all about my life as Teresina "La Tere" Ávila, teacher's aide at Cabritoville Elementary School. Maybe that's why I like Pedro's movies so much. They make me think to stop thinking or stop thinking to really think. It is here that I prefer to dream, seated in the middle of the people I call family. To my right is my comadre, Irma "La Wirma" Granados, and next to her is her mother, Nyvia Ester Granados. It's dinnertime on a hot July night. I should be at home, and yet I find myself lost in the timeless transparency of El Colón watching Pedro Infante in the movie La Vida No Vale Nada. Pedro plays a melancholic loner named Pablo who keeps leaving any number of possible lives behind, and all sorts of women who might have loved him. He's a good-hearted vato who goes on these incredible life-changing borracheras whenever he feels overwhelmed, which is pretty much most of the time. Ay, Dios mío. Pedro's lips part slightly with that naughty nene -- little boy -- grin of his as he breaks into a song. ¡Ay, ay, ay! Pedro knows me. He knows I crave his arms. His touch. His deep voice in my ear, his knowing hands on my trembling body. Híjole. The great flames of my dreams billow up to meet the flickering screen, as a wave of intense light consumes the sweet, painful and familiar song of my untold longing. ¡Uuuuuey! The man has me going. Revved up like a swirling red, green, yellow and blue top, I can barely sit still in my seat. I sit up straight, then shiver, then melt down to hot plastic, trying to find a comfortable position. My legs are itchy, a sure sign of the troubled state of my mind, my restless body. There is no relief. I admit, years after he died tragically in a plane crash, I'm in love with Pedro. Who isn't? In the movie, Pedro-as-Pablo meets Cruz, the widowed owner of an antique shop in the market and he carries her groceries home for her. He offers to stay on to help and that is exactly what he does, cleaning up, fixing things, getting the shop back on its feet. And he can't help but notice how voluptuous Cruz is, despite her black widow's dress. After exchanging glances that would have worked on any other woman, Cruz still can't admit she loves Pedro-as-Pablo. But she's thrilled to know he wants her -- his lust naked, unadorned. Only when she's behind closed doors in her room can she admit the terrible truth. What can I tell you ...
