The sun rose slowly over the horizon, sprinkling light across the pole beans and the corn. It was a peaceful scene but it was quiet only for the moment. Two men crouched in the shadows at the edge of the garden. They watched her gather radishes and onions and place them neatly in her basket.

They made no sound as they rose and stretched. They glanced quickly at the old dog lying beside her, and then in the other direction to see if there were others up and about. One of the men, in his thirties and the taller of the two, moved stealthily and eagerly towards her, excited that she was alone and unprotected. The man knocked the basket from her hands and stuffed a cloth into her mouth. He warned her, "Don't try anything, little girl. And if you continue to struggle I'll break your neck."

The second man, in his twenties and apparently the tall man's helper, looked for the dog but the dog had disappeared. He put his knife back into its leather sheath. If the dog showed up he would dispatch it quickly.

The tall man threw the girl over his shoulder and started towards the garden gate. He did not see a boy drop from a tree in the nearby orchard, slip the sack of peaches off his shoulder, and start towards them. But both men saw him slide over the back fence and stop between two bee hives.

Worker bees in both hive entrances were enjoying the sun's early rays, their wings stirring the air around the hives. The boy slapped his hand on one hive and then the other. "Wake up, queens! Wake up worker bees! I need your help!"

Irritated because he disturbed them, a few bees lifted and dove at him but did not sting. "They've got my sister and they're taking her somewhere!" The strain in his voice was evident. "Hurry!"

The boy was making too much noise. The men had not expected opposition. Their boss had assured them that no one would be watching and the girl could be captured. This boy was being a nuisance.

The taller man, his face angry and contorted, turned towards the boy. "O.k., little boy. Now I'll have to kill you and the girl."

His words were still echoing when a small tornado of angry bees left the hives, drifting towards him. One bee left the group, dove and hit the man below his left eye. It clung just for a second, left its stinger embedded in his flesh, and tumbled to the ground, all in one smooth movement.

Below the man's eye a small pouch, the bee's stomach, continued to pump venom. He grabbed the stinger and pulled it out, forcing more venom into his skin. Chemicals left by the dying bee drew the next series of bees. They planted their stingers close together, one after another. His exposed skin was vulnerable and a perfect target.

He swatted at the angry bees as they circled, his frantic efforts drawing them in. They were infuriated by his jerky motions and increased their attack.

The man yelled, "Help! Help!" But he found out that was a mistake.

Two bees flew inside his mouth, stinging his tongue. He spit the bees out but now he was afraid to call for help.

He stumbled forward, his eyes swelling. By now his eyes were just slits in his swollen face. He stopped, reached for Ana's throat, but a new wave of bees landed and stung. Sacrificing their own lives, they pumped new venom into his skin before they flew a short distance away and died.

The man released his grip on Ana and staggered to the garden gate.

It was already too late. His airway had swollen shut, cutting off his air supply. He fell head first into the grass.

The second man dove into a nearby ditch full of muddy irrigation water. He submerged and surfaced a few seconds later. Bees dove at him, caught in his hair, and he submerged again.

The bees circled and waited, ready to attack, continuing to hear the boy's commands. When the boy was satisfied the man could not harm anyone he released the bees from their attack. The bees quieted down and returned to their hives. A few minutes later, the man crawled cautiously out of the ditch.

Several neighbors had noticed the excitement. They rushed over and gathered around the strangers. One was lifeless, the other man hysterical.

He pleaded for mercy, confessed to his role in the attack, and made many excuses. The neighbors listened and took notes regarding his involvement and his confession. In a few minutes a police car came and he was escorted into town.

The man was not held long. Lawyers came and asked him a few questions.

The man insisted they were innocently attacked. "We were walking down the road and we saw this garden. We thought about taking a few vegetables because we were hungry. We were attacked by bees before we had a chance to get any."

He was released without being charged.

The boy and the girl were ignored. They were too young to be considered credible witnesses.

"Not enough evidence to hold him," the sheriff said.

"Are you o.k.?" Ramon asked Ana.

Ana smiled at her brother. "Thanks, Ramon."

"No, Ana. Thank the spirits and the queen bees. They saved you."

Government officials came to the garden that week wanting to know the truth behind the bee attack. They did not believe Ramon's story about the bees helping him.

"Boy, those bees are killers. One of those men died. Tell the truth, now, and you can get back to your games."

Ramon repeated the story several times but the officials wouldn't listen. They could find no evidence anywhere of someone communicating with bees.

"We'll have to destroy these hives. They're too dangerous to have around. They're full of killer bees."

Yellow tape was wound around the hives and everyone was told to stay away.

That night, while everyone was sleeping, Ramon gathered about two pounds of bees from each hive and put them in wire boxes suitable for shipping. He put the queens in little cages and placed them inside the boxes. When he was satisfied the bees could be safely handled, his mother drove him to the post office. The following afternoon he mailed his package bees across the country to his cousin.

"Take care of my bees, cousin. I will repay you when I can."

When news of the bee attack reached Ramon's father the townsfolk tried to make things sound better. They told the truth. They said Ramon was by the bee hives when two men grabbed Ana. Ramon tried to make them release her. He was a hero for protecting her.

Ramon's father did not want to hear about Ramon doing good deeds. He stomped up to the garden and said, "Ramon, I told you not to call the spirits for help. Digging up the spirits causes problems in this modern world. You are grounded. You will not be allowed in the garden for two months for disobeying me."

Ramon's father would not listen to Ramon's explanation. He never would. That was the way it had always been and would always be. Ramon's life was always well ordered and the spirit world kept at bay, ready to help.

With his father's strict guidance and corrections Ramon's world grew increasingly tighter as he struggled to meet his father's expectations. But beneath the surface Ramon knew the other world was waiting to intervene. The spirits could be held back at times but they could not be crushed. Because both worlds were real in his life Ramon had to keep one world wrapped in the darkness of his mind. It could never coexist with his father's world. If Ramon acknowledged the existence of the spirit world his father might lose control.

When Ramon was two his grandmother brought him his first real toy, a cuddly gray rabbit with floppy ears. His father was furious when he saw Ramon holding the rabbit. He glared at Ramon's grandmother and said, "Do not interfere with our lives! No bunny rabbits or teddy bears! We hate rabbits! Rabbits destroy gardens! And toys are for the weak! Ramon will be a man, not a girl! I want him to grow up without all the emotional handicaps. He will be a scientist like me."

Ramon's father was adamant that Ramon grow up in a real world. "My son will not have a life of ease or luxury. He is expected to help the world, not as an imaginary superhero, but as a real scientist improving the world's food supplies."

EXPECTATIONS

Ramon didn't remember exactly when he began keeping his journal. It was just a way of keeping track of his normal life. He wasn't perfect and he wanted to remind himself of all the mistakes he made. He hid the journal every day after recording the day's events. He wrote about his dad and mom, his siblings, his ancestors, and people who affected his life.

Sometimes he made up fantasy stories. Within these stories he could create characters who would listen to him. Those characters did not have high expectations of Ramon. He could tell them, "I'm mad at Julie. She told on me to the teacher just because I pulled her hair." Or he might say, "I put a frog in Maria's lunch bag. Why didn't she scream? She smiled at me."

In his stories his dad was very strict and insisted Ramon follow the rules. "Someday, Ramon, you will understand why you cannot play with your friends every day. You have to get ahead. This world is not for the idle ones. If you learn good work habits you will have an advantage. Do not argue. Do what you are told. Someday you will travel throughout the world and many famous people. That's how I met your mom. We discovered each other at the Fiesta of the Gardens".

Sometimes at night he couldn't sleep. He worried that his parents might find out how bad he was. Would his dad beat him or send him away to boarding school like he threatened? Would his mom quit loving him if she knew he teased the girls at school?

The journal kept the collection of all the things he remembered. Whenever possible, Ramon listed the details of everything he had done that day. His dad would not be happy if he knew Ramon did any bad things.

Someone was calling him. A voice was penetrating his thoughts.

Usually he could ignore or shut out anyone except his father. "Ramon, where are you? Aren't you going to join us? Tonight we're having blueberry-peach pie and vanilla ice cream. If you don't hurry it will be gone before you know it." His mother's voice sounded delicate and beautiful, like chimes singing in the wind. He knew she made the best pies of anybody in the world: homemade crust, lattice top, a crust that was flaky and light. He could picture the pie now and he licked his lips in anticipation.

This time of year excited Ramon. The orchard was filled with green fruit. Soon the fruit would display the rich colors of its kind: red for apples, purple for figs, and splashes of red and yellow for peaches. The vegetables in the garden were also growing rapidly. The tomatoes were above the wire cages waiting for hot days, the lettuce was growing sweet and tall, and the peppers were color coded according to their fiery intensity. Each day his aunts prepared delicious combinations of fruits and vegetables for him from his personal garden. He was spoiled and knew it.

"I'm coming, mama, just as soon as I finish this row."

Ramon loved working in the garden even when he was tired and sweating profusely, the weeds had stickers, and the ground was as hard as cement. He enjoyed planting the seeds of each kind of plant. He wanted to be first to identify the seedlings as they pushed their way into the world. If he demonstrated that he knew the good plants from the weeds, he was allowed to keep the weeds out of his assigned plot. Any new task that was added became part of his list of things to do. While other children were playing Ramon was working. He planned his own garden, prepared the ground, planted the vegetables, harvested the produce, and finally, cleared the land when the plants were non-producing and barren of fruit.

In the garden Ramon had freedom to experiment and he enjoyed that freedom. It was the only place his father left him alone.

There was no point in arguing with his father. It was always done his father's way, and his father was always right.

Ramon simply said, "Yes, Father," and that was that. His mother came to him later and said, "The spirits say you will always be welcome to call on them. They will notify all things, whether living or not, that you have their support and powers. Just be careful when you use the powers. Many people envy you."

His mother called again. "Ramon, we are waiting for you."

He felt stirrings inside and knew his ancestors were telling him to listen to his mother. He wanted to complete his task yet he knew he should join everyone before it got too late. He carried his hoe to the fence and left it. Tomorrow he would finish the section of the garden he agreed to do.

He stumbled over a big clod as he walked through the garden. He thought, "Is that a potato sticking out of the ground?" He stepped closer to it. "No it's just my imagination. I'm stumbling over things now. I'll chop that clod into smaller pieces tomorrow and get it out of my way.'

His mother said, "Go wash up. We've been waiting for you."

There were spirits within his dreams, in the trees, rocks, and animals around him. He felt them and heard them talking. His mother told him constantly he had the ancient powers of the Aztecs in his blood. He was royalty and the powers were carried in his genes. His mother was convincing when she said the spirits were ancestors sent to guide and protect their family in difficult situations.

Ramon loved his mother and believed her but he feared his father. His father did not want any conversations about the spirits in his home. Ramon and his older brotherf met severe punishment if they mentioned anything that was out of the ordinary unless it had a scientific explanation. Ramon's world would always be under a light, tested and proven. There would never be room for fantasy, especially if it was more real than the concrete world within his grasp.

Thus Ramon grew up in a world within a world. One he could imagine and test. The other world was hard to imagine and hard to test. But he knew both worlds were real and he could never completely sort out the truth.

STORYTELLING TIME

Aunts were there, gathered in a storytelling circle. He looked at them carefully. They looked very much alike. Their long black hair was almost the same length and they had dark expressive eyes. They were almost the same height and they were delighted when people were confused and called them the wrong names. "We can eat while we tell our stories," one of them said. "Gardens and stories should never be neglected."

Ramon had always been quiet, thoughtful, and responsible. His parents expected him to keep everything organized and neat, whether in his room or in his section of the garden. Sometimes he felt the pressure of being perfect and he carefully hid any mistakes and shortcomings from his parents. Would they still love him if they found out he was ordinary?

His aunts reminded him constantly that great things were expected from him. His older brother had been subjected to the scrutiny of his relatives and when his brother ran away and enlisted in the military it put all the attention on Ramon.

"Ramon, you are a prince and don't ever forget that. Long ago our tribe was selected by visitors from other worlds. Our clan was given special powers to connect with nature. It became part of our genetic make-up. Ramon, you are able to converse with our ancestors as well as with nature. Tonight we will show you how to use some of your powers. You will have the discretion to use your ability whenever you need to. You also have the responsibility to never abuse it doing frivolous things. If it is used wisely it is a gift that can help all mankind."

This was a moment he would always remember. In their eyes he was now mature and trusted. He would be given adult status as a story teller. As a child Ramon heard story after story about his ancestors and their encounters with gods who came to earth in the form of animals. His mother and aunts, well known for their knowledge of Mexico's history and details about their own ancestors, told these stories over and over as truths that should never be forgotten. As a result, Ramon knew the names and actions of all the animal characters as well as the names of related generations of hard-working farmers and ranchers. Ramon often heard the animals talking to him. "Ramon, be our friend. Play with us." But he did not dare to play when his father was around.

Whenever his mother or one of his aunts started a story a crowd would gather, all work would stop, and all was quiet until the story came to an end. Rosa, Ramon's oldest aunt, would begin with facts. "Listen my friends, long ago in the heart of Mexico the Aztecs created beautiful gardens in an area that was very difficult to farm. Their floating vegetable gardens, called chinampas, were artificial islands and very fertile. The Aztecs became master gardeners and were honored throughout the lands. We are made of the same blood and when we die our spirits will remain to guide the believers."