A SAD MESS

I never knew Yolanda. She was from the other parish. The opposite side of town. The south end. In old days there was no rich side or poor side ...there was only north, south, and downtown...simple directions, nothing more. Just follow the highway on through. In time, money and class came to the community and the lines became drawn. First the retailers and merchants for those that got some. Those that could not purchase or save were not welcome, got none. The developers finally arrived, like sharks after chum...there were many private meetings about private communities and fourth generation families, sold out the Town and decided to put in the lake. There were many questions, important questions...and still more that were not asked. What would happen to the water supply? The south end would be fine, and it was deeded. Downtown became quaint and historic, and since it had become an income engine, drawing tourism to it’s quaintness, their water was due. Had to have those fountains... But, the north...? The north would be short-ended. Depleted. Water, wages, way-of-life. The Help got to live somewhere...it's important to the infrastructure. Way out here, a substantial pool, so the labor is cheap, and out of view, so tidy and neat. No reason to go there, and plenty to leave.

Yolanda was lucky and landed a nanny spot with a couple of swells, just moved out from the city. They preferred their Latina to look more Anglo, you know? Like central casting. And lucky for Yolanda her father was half anglo. Blue eyes. To hell with the kid, she looked the part. It was Yolanda's first job. She was not prepared, but they gave her the part. That decision can’t be avoided. People want what they want. Some bad priorities, but that don't matter. Yolanda did fine...more than got-by for several months until that night. You know, the night the little boy died. He choked. Chocked on a plastic brick, as they sat on the floor building cities...she just did not see, his back to her...until he collapsed into the pile. She did everything she could conceive of but in a panic...everything wrong in retrospect...only succeeding in lodging the piece in the child's windpipe and before she finished placing the call to Emergency, the boy went limp.

She ran down the road. She screamed...wailed...and ran. She ran as fast and as hard as she ever had ... tear blind, throat raw, her lungs burned, she screamed like a wailing siren. Barely avoiding a delivery truck in mid street,  causing it to swerve and wreck…the driver suspects she was trying to die, too. The gardener, he saved her,  unloading his trailer as it occurred, heard the brakes, saw the swerve, yanked her away with a rake, to the curb. But.. 
Saved her from what? 
…and why?!  
No one could deny. 
Just a sad, sad mess.