Hard Red Spring by Kelly Kerney

they own a mountain?”
    ~~~~~
    Father said nothing on the ride home from Ubico’s office—no jokes, no lessons, no songs. When Evie told him that the meeting had lasted for much longer than two minutes, he snorted some phlegm from his throat and spit off the side of the cart. Not knowing what else to do, Evie put Ubico’s candy in her mouth. It tasted like it had been in his pocket for years, with old pennies. She turned and spit, too.
    At home, after unhitching Tiny, Father stretched and tested his big joints, and smiled tensely at nothing. He went to check on the Indian workers, with the reins still looped around his hand. Evie followed, hoping to glean something, anything, that would explain what had just happened in Xela. Father, she realized, hadn’t just been speechless or tongue-tied. By the very end of the meeting, he’d been afraid.
    On the ride home she’d come to that conclusion, and then another: It wasn’t just seeing her father afraid that frightened her. Despite the smiles, handshakes and apologies, she saw the source. Ubico had said their last name like he was chewing it.
    Now she hoped for any word from Father that would convince her otherwise. But he didn’t seem to be thinking of Ubico anymore. He remained focused on the harvest. “Why aren’t these nets finished already?” he demanded, stepping into the group of Indian workers.
    Judas explained that they had finished them; however, the holes in the netting Mani had bought were too large, so that the bugs might fall through. Judas didn’t notice at first because he had been stocking the wood.
    â€œMani, why the hell would you buy this?” Father inspected the old netting, torn in long pieces on the ground. “What the hell is the matter with you?”
    Mani’s smudged, flat face tilted more intently to his work; he understood his name and Father’s tone and nothing else. Everyone just kept working.
    â€œJudas, translate!”
    Judas pursed his lips and said nothing.
    â€œWhy is it that not one goddamned thing can go right here? Judas, translate!”
    Father began to pace the supply shed, kicking at the discarded swaths of net and flailing his arms, Tiny’s reins. No one looked up from their work.
    â€œOh, now I see how dedicated you all are. Translate!”
    Judas mumbled something in what Evie guessed was Quiché, which only seemed to infuriate her father more. He kicked the box at Judas’s feet. “That’s not what I said!” Father yelled, though he understood no Quiché at all. “What did you tell them, Judas?”
    â€œI told them to keep working. What is the point?” Judas asked evenly, using Mother’s phrase. “What is the point of wasting time with argument? We have less than three days.”
    Evie had never seen her father so angry before. A blue vein stood out over his temple like a worm, like his brain was infested with bright blue worms.She wanted to leave, but became afraid to move and draw his fury. He kicked at the burlap sacks, the dust on the floor.
    Father was pacing and kicking and then he kicked Mani, who shot up from the stool, dropping his net to the floor. “Get back to work!” Father cried. He unlooped the reins from his hand with a quick twirl and struck him across the cheek.
    The whole mountain became very still.
    â€œThe point is that it’s always something. Either Mani gets the wrong netting, or Raffie gets arrested, or you all get drunk and take advances from a coffee planter that I have to repay, or your cousin prays for an early rain to drown my crop! I’m helping you! I am helping your pathetic people, can you not understand that?”
    They all blinked at him, not understanding a word, except for Judas, who placed a hand in one of the nets, testing its strength with twisting fingers. Mani’s dark skin showed no mark from the lashing, but his hands were balled into fists.
    â€œNo