We See a Different Frontier: A Postcolonial Speculative Fiction Anthology Read Online Free Page A

focused northward. Toward Hollywood.
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    Then it happened. A movie came out, and Xiomara was in it. She danced—there was no sound yet—and kissed a gringo. Soon rumors spread of her being the star of a new kind of movie—one with dancing, and singing that could be heard.
    It looked like she had forgotten all about me. I would pick up my revolver and think about shooting myself, when I wasn’t drinking.
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    Then the letter came. It reeked of perfume. The postman laughed. People gathered around because they saw it had come from Hollywood.
    “Read it aloud, Alejandro!” someone said.
    I pulled out my revolver. “What Xiomara has to say to me is private.”
    My darling Alejandro, she wrote:
    Please forgive me for not writing you sooner, but I have been so busy since I came to Hollywood, and you know that writing is not an easy thing for me.
    It has been wonderful, like a dream that I could never imagine, but I miss you and my family terribly. I keep telling them that I would love to see you, but they say there is much work for me to do here.
    They want me to make the singing-dancing picture. It will make me a lot of money. After that I will tell them I want to see you and visit my family. I would like to bring them, and you, up here. Things are possible here that could never happen in Cuauhtémoc.
    Maybe you can come up and see me? I know that once you want something, nothing can stop you. If you could come here, you could do anything.
    Please take this letter to my parents and read it to them. Tell them that I miss them, and I love them, and someday I would like them to come live with me in Hollywood .
    I dream of you, me, and them living here. It want it very much.
    I want you very much, Alejandro.
    With all of my love,
    Xiomara
    Next to her signature were red imprints of her lips.
    I fought to hold back the tears.
    Then one of the boys from the neighborhood stuck his head in my window and asked, “Did she write anything good?”
    I fired a shot over his head. He turned white and ran. It felt good.
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    Then I went and read the letter to Xiomara’s parents. I vowed to them that I would go to Hollywood and reunite them with her or die.
    “How will you make it to Hollywood?” asked her mother.
    “Yes,” said her father. “American troops are guarding the border.”
    “I will get help from General Villa.”
    With the letter in my breast pocket, I took off to join General Villa’s army.
    I’ve always been good with machines, and a leader. They always said I was smart. I became involved with the airship program. I rose through the ranks.
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    Now I was the leader. The only thing that could stop us was the American Air Corps, and we had just defeated their finest with our death rays. But the Americans were proud and clever. They would think of something.
    “I don’t like the way they keep sending planes up, watching us from a distance,” said Holguín.
    “They are cowards,” said Shaguin, “afraid of the death ray.”
    “Let’s keep going,” I said, “and keep an eye on them.”
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    We were getting close to the Grand Canyon when Holguín yelled: “Planes! There’s more American aeroplanes coming after us!”
    “It figures. Just when I was getting ready to get a good look at this big hole in the ground.” said Cháirez.
    I checked some gauges. “We’re losing helium, having trouble staying up.”
    “Soon we’ll be at the bottom of that hole,” said Holguín.
    “The generators still working?” I asked.
    “Yes.”
    “Then keep going. As fast as we can.”
    “At least it’s a pretty place to die.”
    I didn’t like Holguín’s lack of faith.
    “I would rather die in Hollywood with Theda to look at,” said Cháirez.
    I grabbed my binoculars and scanned the east. No sign of any planes. “Where are they?”
    “To the west,” said Cháirez.
    I turned. There were some planes at the horizon.
    “Why wouldn’t they be coming from the East, like the others?”
    “Don’t the Americans