Walking with Suri

Just before sunrise, Uncle Jorge was bouncing his hands on eich of the gir’s mattresses, literally bouncing each girl out of bed.
“Get up, get up! There’s no time to waste!” he said to Teresa.
Teresa groaned as she wiped her eyes. Her room was still dark. It was either very, very early in the morning or very, very late into the night.
“It’s so early.”
“We have lots to do and let’s get a jump start on the day.”
Aunt Paola was already up, crouched near the fire. She was frying eggs in a pan. Lina joined her, warming her body next to the fire.
“How was your night?” asked Aunt Paola.
“Cold,” replied Lina.
“I felt the breeze from your window. That’s what stirred me from bed.”
“I forgot how much colder it was here in the mountains.”
“You’ll get used to it in no time.”
“I hope so.”
After Teresa finished showering, she joined Aunt Paola and Lina near the fire. She sat next to Lina, her body shivering, wet and cold. She rubbed her hair in her hands, drying it by the fire.
Aunt Paola stirred together some warm milk and cocoa powder. She poured three cups of hot chocolate for the girls.
“Try warming yourself from the inside out,” offered Aunt Paola. The girls sipped from their cup and stared into the fire, hoping their bodies would soon warm.
“Where’s Uncle Jorge?” asked Teresa.
“He’s out in the barn, talking to the Alpaca.”
Uncle Jorge, on the other hand, loved a cold morning. His jump start began in a snap. He awoke briskly, moving from bed to shower to kitchen to stables.
“Then we’d better eat,” said Lina.
“Take your time. Your Uncle can wait.”
Aunt Paola sat with the girls, sipping her hot chocolate. For Aunt Paola, it was this rare occasion in the summer that she loved most, sitting with a child next to the fire, listening to the waking world.
Lina loved it too, but only because she was never much of a morning person. She always preferred tucking her head under a pile of blankets, waiting to be the last one out of bed. It was only in the summer when she got up in the morning. That was because she loved being on the mountainside with a pack of alpaca.
“I’m ready to go outside,” said Lina. Teresa tagged along behind her cousin, not wanting to be left behind.
Uncle Jorge had opened the stable doors, setting the Alpaca loose to roam the mountainsides. Meanwhile, Uncle Jorge was in the barn, spraying the floors with the hose.
“What are you doing, Uncle?” said Lina.
“Cleaning the floor. You want to help?”
“Sure.”
“Just wash the barn floor with this hose. I’ve got to go to the city to get some medicine. Lina, do you remember how to clean the stalls?”
“Of course, Uncle Jorge.”
“Would you do that for me while I’m gone?”
“Sure thing.”
Uncle Jorge backed the hatchback down the driveway and went into downtown. Lina picked up a rake and led Teresa into the first stall.
“Wet down each of the stalls so I can rake the sand.”
“Teresa squeezed on the hose nozzle, squirting a fine stream of water into the corner of the stall. Lina directed her hands, moving them in a waving motion. Lina let loose of the nozzle and pointed her cousin around the corner.
Lina combed the rake through the sand, creating grooves between the front and back of the stall. She then raked in a criss-crossing pattern, loosening the hard-pack of sand from the barn floor. She continued until all sand had been completely sifted. She grabbed a broom and swept away the excess silt before moving on to the next stall.
Teresa saw the name plaques above each of the stalls: Paco, Sarge, Pepe, Jumper, Dart, and Paco II.
Teresa sprayed the inside of each stall. Chunks of dirt and Alpaca fur floated over the damp sand floor, running into the middle of the barn. After she had hosed down each stall, she went into the center of the barn and sprayed the fur out the door.
“Now what?” asked Teresa.
“Do it again.”
“But it’s already clean,” Teresa groaned.
“Just do it again. I have to rake it again anyway.”
Teresa followed Lina’s orders. This time, the water flowed over the top of the damp sand floors of each stall, making them muddy. Teresa thought repeating work was silly. She sprayed the floors anyway, as her cousin commanded.
Carolina followed her, skimming the slime off the sand and raking it like she had done before. Meanwhile, Teresa continued spraying the excess sand out the door.
“Again?” asked Teresa.
“One more time,” said Carolina.
Teresa sprayed the stalls and Carolina raked them. Finally, they sat down for a break. Carolina pulled her poncho off her back and laid it over the fence. Her t-shirt was wet with perspiration.
“After we take a break, we’ll go back into the stalls with the rake and hose.”
“Again?”
“This time, we’ll spread fresh sand for the Alpacas.”
Just then, Uncle Jorge returned from the city. The girls ran up to the hatchback and greeted him. He had two bags. One was filled with medicine for the Alpaca and the other was filled with ingredients for bean burros.
“Teresa, take this to your Auntie. Lina, follow me to the pasture.”
Teresa ran the groceries inside, catching up to Uncle Jorge and Lina before they entered the barn.
“That was fast.”
“I didn’t want to miss anything.”
“We’re going to bring the Alpaca inside and give them shots.”
“Do we have to?”
“If we don’t, the Alpaca will get sick. Do you want that?”
“No, of course not.”
Teresa hiked through the field with Jorge and Lina. Stone walls divided the field into separate terraces. To Teresa, they looked like steps for a giant climbing through the mountains. To Uncle Jorge, the terraces kept the Alpaca’s hooves in shape and made farming the mountainside easier.
Lina grabbed As they walked through the pasture, the Alpacas climbed the terraces. Each time Uncle Jorge and the girls stepped up to a new terrace, the Alpacas moved further uphill.
“How do we catch them?” asked Teresa.
“We don’t.”
“Then what are we doing?”
“We’re herding them from the field to the barn.”
“How do we do that?”
“We’ll walk to the top of the mountain and they’ll walk to the bottom.”
“You have to do this every day?”
“Almost,” replied Uncle Jorge.
“It sure is a lot of work.” Teresa breathed heavily as she climbed the last terrace at the back of the pasture. Teresa realized why Carolina had removed her poncho. Teresa removed her poncho, too. She tied it around her waist.
When they reached the last terrace, Lina picked a leaf from one of the guava trees on the other side of the fence. She pressed it between her palms and blew against the leaf. It howled roughly, whistling as she moved her hand back and forth. Teresa grabbed a leaf and imitated her cousin.
Uncle Jorge shooed the Alpaca towards the barn, waving his hat back and forth. Uncle Jorge and the girls spread out in a long line, slowly walking down the terraces. By the time they stepped onto the last terrace, the Alpaca gathered at the feeding trough.
“Which one is Paco II?” asked Teresa.
“He’s the brown one.”
“And which one is Paco?”
“That one is Paco, and there’s Jumper, Pepe, Dart, and the one at the end, that’s Sarge.
“He looks old.”
“He was my first Alpaca. He’s as old as Lina.”
“I remember when he was as small as Paco II,” said Lina.
The Alpacas filtered through the barn. Some found their way to their stalls, others had to be led by their collars. Uncle Jorge fastened all doors but the one belonging to Sarge. He stepped into the stall, motioning for the girls.
“Lina, hold the harness for me.”
“What about me?”
“Oh, yea, right.” Uncle Jorge thought for a moment. “Teresa, you can pet his neck to keep him relaxed.”
Uncle Jorge went around to the back of Sarge, firmly grasping the old Alpaca by the hips. He unscrewed the cap on the needle and carefully fed the end into Sarge’s skin. The old Alpaca bucked against the side of his stall. Uncle Jorge gently moved the Alpaca to the center of his stall and injected the vitamins and medicine.
“That was easy, wasn’t it?” smiled Uncle Jorge.
“Do we have to do this to all of them?” asked Teresa.
“Like I told you, if we don’t, they will get sick and die.”
Uncle Jorge and Lina went on to the next stall, while Teresa stayed behinid. Sarge knelt in the sand, leaning against the side of the stall. Teresa continued petting his neck. Meanwhile, another Alpaca kicked in its stall, reacting to the sting of the needle.
“Lina, hold him still.”
“I am.”
“Grab him by the bridle, he’s pushing me into the wall.”
Lina pulled against Paco’s bridle. Paco tugged back. Uncle Jorge patted the Alpaca on the backside, then quickly injected the medicine. Paco bucked for a second, then stood still.
“That was easy,” chuckled Uncle Jorge.
“Only a few more to go,” reassured Lina. She had been through all of this before. The first time she saw a needle go into an Alpaca, she ran to the house crying. That was four years ago. Since then, she was present for all their summer shots of medicine and vitamins.
Uncle Jorge and Lina returned to Sarge’s stall, where Teresa was leaned against Sarge, using him as a giant pillow. Her eyes were puffy and red.
“It’s all over. Let’s get some lunch,” said Uncle Jorge, offering a hand. Teresa got up and went inside. She wasn’t sure if she really liked working at the Alpaca farm after all.