My Little Pony: Amor Esta Magica

by WarThunderBrony

Have a cigar

This party was just simply amazing. On the bright side, I could clearly see that Donita and Rosa were hitting it on with each other pretty well (the two of them being girls); also the food was excellent, and I'd never had a better tequila in years.

The sheer grandeur of Donita's residence also led me to believe that, hey, if I marry Donita, I'll be marrying myself into a family of great wealth -- and with it, everything a man of my standing would always be longing for.

Feeling like getting a puff for a minute (and seeing that my prospective father-in-law's speech was rather long-winded and beginning to get on my nerves), I politely excused myself and walked to the patio on the second storey of Donita's three-storey mansion. I took out a packet of cocalero cigars and began to puff away. My dream was beginning to take shape.

Those thoughts passed through my mind as I gazed out of that patio onto the beautiful Andean landscape before my very eyes. Donita's house was certainly well located. And furthermore, everyone seemed to be in an unusually good mood tonight, this being a party. If there was any more appropriate time to propose to Donita, this would be it.

Suddenly, a familiar Argentinian-accented voice called my name from behind me. "Why hola there, Garcia. Haven't seen you for years. Have a cigar."

I turned around and saw him. Yes, HIM. There he stood, an all-too-familiar face, with that long pointed chin reminiscent of Che Guavera, gazing at me, holding out a brand-new and unused cigar, and smirking away. The very voice caused me to wake up to the harsh reality standing right there before my very eyes.

BENZ GUZMAN.

Yes, Benz Guzman. That was him all right.

"Vamo ya, have a cigar," he said, continuing to hold out that cigar to me. "It's free."

My mind flashed back to that fateful moment three years ago....

[flashback]

(February of 2010, at the lobby of a motel in Las Palmas)

I had just arrived in Las Palmas the day before, and was at a motel waiting for the chauffeur to pick me up and fetch me to my new job. I was expecting to see some casually-dressed Spaniard holding out a card with the name "ALBERTO GARCIA" printed on it in big bold letters.

But instead, this young, well-dressed Guatemalan man approached me. "Senor Garcia?" he asked.

"Si," I replied.

"Buenos dias," said the man, shaking my hand. "My name is Jovento Bajaran, and I am the Recruitment Manager of All Lee Enterprises. I've been sent to fetch you. A few of our entourage will be arriving soon."

"Gracias," I replied. An entourage. Hrrrrumph. Now this was something. Obviously this workplace I'd applied to work in, was most certainly no ordinary company by any means.

The entourage soon arrived. Almost all of them were already high-ranking managers in All Lee: Berlinella Ramerrez, Jovento Bajaran's wife and also the Assistant Recruitment Manager; Alvin Matthew Simoneau, the "Long Tall Texan" who served as the Event Manager; Antonio Tortilla, owner of a Mexican food stall and also one of the Culinary Managers; Justeno Alvarado Coleda, a flamenco dancer who was from my hometown of La Paz and now served as the Assistant Event Manager; and Jaime Lozada, the Culinary Manager.

It should be noted that none of them were from mainland Spain or from the Canaries. Those who had Spanish-sounding names were Latin Americans like myself; in fact Justeno Coleda and Jaime Lozada were all from my homeland of Bolivia. Indeed, Justeno Coleda was from the capital city La Paz, like I am. Sounds like I'm getting closer than ever to finding my real papa, I said to myself.

Jovento Bajaran and his entire entourage fetched me all the way in a huge limousine to the east coast of Las Palmas, where we found a quiet spot on the beach. Waiting us there were a few more members of All Lee: Huascar Leon, a long-serving but low-ranking Public Relations Supervisor; Enrique della Torre, the Public Relations Manager; Benedicto Lee-Guzman, better known as Benz Guzman, the General Manager; Justino Rodrigo Diaz, the Executive Assistant Manager cum Operations Manager; Jose de la Cruz, another flamencisto who served as an Assistant Event Manager (and would later become my decurion in the Bolivian People's Army); M Bangalee, the Stewarding Manager, a native of Kolkata in East India; Natano da Figueira, a Brazilian who was the Design Manager; Dario Coleda (no relation to Justeno Coleda), the Assistant Operations Manager; Monseigneur Rafael Ruiz (S.J.), the Chaplain; Paolo "Ace" Colombani, a Vatican citizen who served as aide-de-camp to Monseigneur Ruiz; Bjorn Lowenthal, a Norwegian bodybuilder who was a supervisor of events and Ace Colombani's inseparable friend; and Giacomo "Nevegiaco" la Furba, another event supervisor.

"Senores e senoritas," announced Benz Guzman, "our CEO, Don Francisco Juan Perez, will be arriving in a matter of minutos. But first, allow us to welcome our newest recruit, Senor Alberto Garcia."

Applause from all sides. I stood up and politely acknowledged it.

"Have a cigar, Senor Garcia," said Benz Guzman, taking a cigar and offering it to me. "It's free."

I accepted politely and started to puff.

"Senor Garcia is from Bolivia," went on Guzman, "and will be serving as our Project Manager from today. Have you any words, Senor Garcia?"

"Si," I replied. "I am very thrilled to be a part of All Lee. I believe that in all our future projects we undertake, we can do not a good job, but a perfect job of it all. All I need is your support. Then we will be moving in the right direction. Viva All Lee!"

Applause again. Then suddenly a short but commanding figure walked in, with his own entourage. It was an elder gentleman dressed in a tuxedo. Upon his appearance, everybody's eyes came off me and started looking at this elder gentleman. And with such a mixture of adoration, awe, and fear, that even I too was spellbound.

I knew that this was, of course, none other than Francisco Juan Perez himself. I just stood still and said nothing, waiting for him to talk.

"May I have your attention, por favor!" said Perez, in a voice that caused even the branches of the trees above us to shake. "Benz, is everypony with me?"

"Si, Don Francisco," said Benz Guzman.

"Now todo el mundo, listen up," said Perez. "Garcia is our newest manager. I hope all of you can lend him your support. I recruited him specially because I feel he is suitable to play a part in organising further business ventures into all of Latin America. We hope to monopolise all the clubbing businesses here in Las Palmas, as well as in Colombia, Peru, Ecuador, and Bolivia, and hopefully also Argentina Brazil, under our control. As you know, we have already set up numerous clubs in Colombia and Bolivia. It has been hard however, to venture into Argentina and Brazil due to the dangers of the Amazon. And after reading Garcia's resume, I feel he is the most appropriate person to take on this duty. He will discuss with every one of you as to his plans for our newest ventures in a few minutes. Por favor, kindly lend Garcia your support. Muchas gracias."

Applause again. Perez then approached me. "Garcia," he said, "would you mind coming for a moment for a private talk with me?"

Perez and I walked together -- with some nameless security guards of his, all with rifles and dressed in tuxedos like himself -- into his big mercedes benz limousine. As I got in, I could see Benz Guzman and the other managers still doing their own stuff. I suspected from there that they might be plotting something, though of course I was not yet totally sure.

The limousine took us to a huge building, All Lee Industrial Building, located in the Las Palmas Industrial Park. Perez took me to his office, upstairs on the second floor.

"Alberto Garcia," he said smilingly, "once again, muchas gracias for your voluntary offer to join All Lee. We cannot do without someone like you, with such a wonderful spirit of persistence. But before you start, we need to brief you on your duties."

"Er, senor," I cut in, "why isn't the General Manager here? Surely he's the one supposed to give me my duties..."

Perez stopped smiling. I knew that meant that I had to shut up, so I did so.

"May I go on, por favor?" said Perez.

"Si, senor," I replied.

"Muy bien," said Perez. "Now listen carefully, Garcia. As our new project manager, your task will be to supervise all aspects of the construction of various new nightclubs in Las Palmas, which is our latest venture. For lodging, do not worry; you and your companera are staying in the motel now, but we will provide you with better lodging, located near this workplace, where you will be working in. Like with all other nuevos, we will need to put you on three months' probation before we can confirm you...."

One month after the start of my stint in All Lee, I was already getting used to the working life; living in such a spacious executive-style apartment, and so near the workplace some more, was an added benefit.

However, it was also the time when I realised I was beginning to face resistance. Some of the workers were rebelling and complaining to my co-managers. The first such case occurred when Justino Diaz called me asked to see me one morning before I'd even to work.

I went straight to his office and sat down. "Si, Senor Diaz?" I asked.

"Garcia, there are a few things I need to tell you," said Diaz. "Firstly. The way you treat this workplace, is kind of like the way you treat your own home. I don't know what sort of background you come from, but no matter how poor you are, you should at least have some sense of hygiene. You don't go around smoking and then throwing your cigar butts all over the place."

I kept silent but nodded in acknowledgement.

"And what's more," went on Diaz, "the low-ranking workers have complained that you have creeped them out greatly. The way you talk, the jargon you use when you give them tasks, is oftentimes hard to comprehend. Your mannerisms have also played a big part in this. I don't know if this is anything to do with your upbringing or culture, but most of us here are also Latinos and are certainly not used to your creepiness..."

[/flashback]

All the heartbreaking memories came back to me like a flood upon my immediate beholding of Benz Guzman standing there before me, holding out a cigar. "Have a cigar, it's free..." -- caramba! The very same words! The exact same way he said it!

I took a deep breath, exerting great self-restraint. "No thanks, you can keep it for yourself," I said, trying my hardest not to explode.

"It's for you, it's your favorite brand -- cocalero," said Benz Guzman, pointing to the all-too-familiar brand name on the cigar packaging. "I specially bought it for you. Have a puff and all your woes will be resolved."

I was just about to lose all control on myself, when suddenly a familiar neighing voice beckoned to me from the ground level below. "Alberto! Jump now! Jump!"

I looked Benz Guzman in the eye. "Sorry, Senor Guzman, I have things to settle at home. Can't stay. Adios, amigo mio." And so saying, I turned around and jumped off the second-story patio, ready to sprain my ankles anytime.

But thank the Santa Madre de Dios, it was that grey caballo waiting for me just merely a couple of feet below -- the very same grey caballo with the bubble-like thingies on her butt, the one who had previously tried to stop me from delivering my report on Francisco Perez to the newspapers! She dived right under me when I jumped, catching me prostrate on her back (just nice); and with me lying prostrate on her back, she flew off.

"First you stopped me from delivering that report," I said, "and today you save my life?"

"That cigar in his hand was a bomb," said the grey caballo. "Good thing he did not ignite it. Had it been ignited in your mouth, you'd have been toast by now."

"Ah si," I said.

"By the way, Alberto, you can call me Derpy," said the grey caballo, smiling as she flew on with me still lying prostrate on her back. "I'll be bringing you to your home. Your mama's been worried sick for you these past few days."

And about time too, I thought. I hated having to live this lifestyle. However in my heart there was still someone I found it hard to give up -- Rosa. She had, after all, given me my first job in a long time, working as a barista in her nightclub.

"Who was that man anyway?" asked Derpy. "What did he want with you?"

"He just wanted to offer me a cigar," I said, rather annoyed, "and I turned him down flat. Does that help?"

"Perhaps I can help you find out the cause of your conflicts?" said Derpy, not apparently willing to back down.

"No," I said, "just kindly take me home now, por favor. Isn't that why you came anyway?"

Derpy dropped me at my hacienda. Mama was asleep, it seemed; so I just went to have an early night. I could not sleep so easily, however; the memories of Benz Guzman saying "Have a cigar, it's free" kept coming to mind, causing me to break out in perspiration and my teeth to chatter incontrollably....

* * *

DERPY: On being assigned once again by Princess Twilight Sparkle to check on Alberto's progress, I flew by his hacienda and was shocked to find that there was no sign of Alberto anywhere. Old Madame Garcia was standing at her window, wringing her hands and singing this lament:

I feared the worst. "Madame Garcia, what's up? Are you OK?" I asked, politely.

"My son's gone now," sobbed Old Madame Garcia, "and he hasn't come back for days. I hope nothing serious has happened. Mi caballito, if you can help me find my Alberto, I will be most thankful; I'll give anything, anything just to have Alberto back again!"

"Don't cry, Madame Garcia," I said, gently nuzzling the old lady on her tear-stained face. "Rest assured I'll find Alberto and bring him back to you in top form. Go and have a rest now, and take it easy."

Old Madame Garcia caressed me on my mane. "Little caballo, you are a comfort to me in my old age," she said, wiping her eyes. "You are probably one of those whom Alberto can relate to. Go and fetch him now, por favor."

"But, senorita..." I began, remembering that Alberto did have his reservations about us still.

"Just go and get him, por favor," repeated Old Madame Garcia. So I flew off to find Alberto.

It took me nearly all evening to find Alberto. It was not an easy task finding one person in a country of various landscapes. However, by late evening I found him standing on the patio of a huge house in La Paz, apparently gazing blankly into space.

Then I saw a man in a white singlet with the canton logo of Estrela del Mar on it -- obviously this man was from Estrela del Mar in Argentina, but I couldn't see his face clearly in the darkness -- who appeared to be joining Alberto on the same patio. I initially thought they were friends, but when I saw Alberto about to react in hostility, and the cigar in that Argentinian man's hand apparently about to ignite any minute, I immediately flew down and beckoned to him to jump.

After I dropped Alberto at his home, I flew back to Equestria through the portal -- it had been stationed by Princess Celestia in the middle of the forests of Eastern Bolivia -- and told Princess Twilight Sparkle what had happened.

"Mission accomplished, I saved him," I said.

"Good, come with me," said Twilight. "I need to tell you something."

"Sure," I said.

"That Argentinian man," said Twilight, "is the General Manager of All Lee Enterprises. Benedicto Lee-Guzman is his name, although most know him as Benz Guzman. Alberto is afraid of him."

"Yeah, and...?" I countered.

"He is the cause of all of Alberto's suffering in recent times," said Twilight, "because he is the one who has kept Francisco Perez in power all along. That night when Dashie and I went into Alberto's flat in the Canaries, we noticed something very unusual, which I think I'll need to bring up at the Grand Galloping Gala -- which is tomorrow."

"I'll come with you," I said to her.

The Grand Galloping Gala was highly successful, if uneventful. During the debrief, Princess Twilight Sparkle called a meeting with Rainbow Dash, Big McIntosh, Braeburn, and me. Two other male ponies, Noteworthy and Soarin Dash, also joined us.

"Well," said Princess Twilight Sparkle. "So ... how's the news from Earth? Derpy, would you care to share with everypony here?"

"OK I guess," I replied. "Alberto was about to get himself into another big brawl at a party the other night. It's a good thing I saved him just in time. The person in question was about to offer him a cigar -- in all sincerity he had put some explosives inside it -- and it's a good thing Alberto turned him down. But from where I was, I could clearly see that that person was about to force him to take the cigar and ignite it, in the hope that it might explode in Alberto's face and kill him instantly. So I knew that was the moment to intervene. And guess what? The person was none other than the General Manager of All Lee Enterprises."

"The General Manager of All Lee? You mean Benz Guzman?" cried Rainbow Dash. "He's a brony too."

"WHAT?!" I cried. "How do you know that, Dashie?"

"You may not have realised this yet, most of you at least," said Rainbow Dash, "but quite a lot of the All Lee managers are bronies. In name only at least. In reality, they are actually a bunch of terrorists who are seeking to overthrow the government in Bolivia and set up a neo-apartheid government. Have you not already realised that many of them are white Argentinians or Colombians?"

"So now the question is this," put in Braeburn. "Now that we know who they really are, how therefore do we expose those cunts for their wicked deeds? If we can do so successfully, I can pretty much guarantee that Alberto will stop hating us."

"I second that," said Big McIntosh, ever the pony of few words.

"Soarin Dash, you are one of the Wonderbolts' top graduants, just like your sister Rainbow Dash," said Princess Twilight Sparkle. "Do you have any ideas how we can help Alberto from this point?"

"OK, let's zero in on Alberto's history." said Soarin Dash. "Alberto, as we know by now, is not so much a devil in human form as he is a poor soul who has been trodden down by almost everyone he comes into contact with. The biggest heartache he's faced in his life is not with the All Lee people, but rather in his own family; he's been looking in vain for his father for the longest time. His stint in All Lee did not quite help him; in fact it only served to make him even more heartbroken. I believe Pinkie Pie mentioned to us before that what Alberto needs is approval. She also prophesized that he'd be ending up at the Yungas Road soon, though knowing Alberto's nature, we are not so sure about that. So let's focus on the key issue here: Alberto is unhappy. So the answer is simple: Make Alberto happy. Once we've made him happy, his morale will be boosted, then only can we talk about dealing with the All Lee managers."

"Well said, Soarin," said Princess Twilight Sparkle. "Noteworthy, have you anything to add?"

"Put it this way," said Noteworthy. "Not everypony who calls themselves a 'brony' is really one in deed. Case in point: Benz Guzman and company. Conversely, regarding everypony out there on Earth who claims to hate us, there's no guarantee that they won't become bronies some day. Case in point: Alberto. And I believe he DOES have brony potential. And lots of it at that. I think it just has to be put to the right use. And I believe all of us can do so. As to how exactly, I think we should leave it to Your Highness to plan it out."

"Gracias," said Princess Twilight Sparkle. "So this is what we'll...."

"Hey!" I cried, suddenly noticing Princess Twilight's usage of Spanish. "How come you're talking like Alberto all of a sudden..?"

"Listen, por favor," went on Princess Twilight Sparkle. "This is what we'll do. We'll bring ourselves down to his level. That's why you see I'm talking a bit like him. We'll give him something he'll never forget -- and on his big day some more!"

"Your Highness, what do you mean by his 'big day'?" wondered Braeburn.

"He has a girlfriend, doesn't he?" said Princess Twilight Sparkle. "Then that's the solution -- convince him to propose to her. And the big day is, of course, their wedding day! What a feeling!

And so singing, Princess Twilight Sparkle galloped away to Canterlot castle.

"I guess she means the rest is up to us to plan out," sighed Rainbow Dash.

"Let me handle this," I said. "I think I know what to do."

* * *

ALBERTO: I came suddenly wide awake to the voice of Mama calling me. "Alberto! Que pasa?"

"Soy bien," I replied; "I just had a bad dream only."

"Ah, bueno," said Mama, as she stepped into my room. "As long as you're ok, I'm happy. Better get some sleep."

I remembered nothing more. The following day when I woke up, I realised it was already mid-afternoon and it was time for me to report for work! I quickly packed up my stuff and made a dash for the first taxi to Sucre.

Sadly, by the time I arrived, the time of my work shift had just ended. I was really really angry -- but what made me doubly angry was the fact that the "Carmen" nightclub was apparently no longer under Rosa's management.

"Who are you?" asked the head chef, as though he had never met me.

"Alberto, your barista," I said. "Don't you recognise me?"

"Sorry, senor, but I don't think the manager welcomes your presence," said the head chef. "Kindly leave, por favor."

"Bien. Let me see the manager if she's around," I demanded.

"Muy bien," said the head chief. "Wait a momentino." He went back into the kitchen and brought out -- Antonio Tortilla!

I recalled the time when Antonio Tortilla and I had gotten into a big brawl merely a few months before. It was the brawl that ultimately led to my dismissal from All Lee; the same brawl involved Natanaele Duarte, another manager in All Lee, a pro-communist who had been after my blood since the year before because of political differences.

"So! Garcia! We meet again!" boomed Tortilla. "And how may I help you today?"

"Where is Rosa?!" I demanded.

"I'm sorry, but she has resigned from this nightclub on her father's orders," said Tortilla. "I have since been assigned to take over, and I am sorry, but we do not recognise you as a staff. Por favor, kindly go before I call the policia."

"Sorry," I said as I ran out of the pub, frightened out of my wits. I knew that such a big man like Tortilla surely meant business, considering his tone of voice.

I gave Rosa a call. I knew she would surely know something about this; it was her pub all right, the very same design, same street, same everything; so how could it possibly have ended up in the hands of that cunt Tortilla?!

"Hola?" Rosa answered her phone.

"Rosa? It's me Alberto here," I said, "where are you? How come you aren't at the pub today?"

"Oh, Alberto! I was trying to call you just now," said Rosa, "but your mama told me you were asleep. Quick, come to the airport at Sucre; I need to talk with you."

"Si," I replied, and quickly grabbed a taxi to the airport, and met Rosa at the departure hall.

"I'm so sorry about the short notice," said Rosa, "but my Papa intervened and bought over the nightclub. I only found out about it this morning. Papa said he... er... wants me to go overseas for a while; see here, he bought me this plane ticket."

"So, you mean to say, your Papa is.... Don Francisco?!" I gasped.

"Sadly, yes," said Rosa, looking dejected. "I never once agreed with him. I also wanted my own revenge against him. But I never expected he was always one step ahead of me.... and now this thing about sending me overseas.... I tell you the truth, if I don't comply, he will not only kill me, but also you as well... he has the means to do so."

"Ah well, I guess for now there is nothing I can do," I said, "but I believe in one thing: wherever you and I may be around the world, however far apart, we will still do our best to bring your Papa to justice."

"I hope we can succeed," said Rosa. "Sorry if I let you down."

We embraced, and then I saw Rosa through the departure gate. I could see tears in her eyes as she turned round one last time to glance at me.

"She's gone," came a familiar feminine voice behind me. I turned and saw Donita.

"Donita! Mi amor! You came all the way to Sucre?" I gasped. "How did you know I was here?"

"I bring good tidings," said Donita. "Papa says he will gladly allow you to marry me, and give you a job in Brony Pony Enterprises!"

"What? Did I hear you right?" I gasped.

"The question is, do you want it?" asked Donita, smiling.

"Opposite of 'no'," I replied, smiling back.

"That means 'si'!" cried Donita.

"Si," I said. I grabbed her and embraced her in great joy. I pulled out a bunch of red roses and knelt down. "Donita," I said, "marry me?"

"I do!" said Donita.

No moment in so many years could have been happier for me....

* * *

FLUTTERSHY: The news spread round Ponyville like wildfire -- Alberto Garcia was to marry Donita lo Pescadoro. I was really amazed when I heard the news. Despite not having been that much involved in his life, I certainly had heard lots about this Alberto and his funny, if occasionally creepy, way of living his life.

I immediately went to see Derpy about this. "Derpy, you're the one whom I heard has had most contact with Alberto," I said to her. "How did you succeed?"

"Well, put it simply," Derpy replied. "His mom chased him out in a fit of anger. He stayed in his ex-boss's home for a few days. Then one night after work he went with her to a party where he encountered a few people he did not quite like. Then when one of them cornered him on a patio, I told him to jump, and he did -- and landed on my back. Then it so happens that in revenge, his ex-boss's father -- who is also his nemesis -- confiscated the nightclub from his daughter, and sent his daughter abroad to study. Then after his ex-boss left, Alberto's companera, Donita, approached him and said that her family consents to him marrying her."

"How sweet!" I said. "How did you know all this?"

"Observing Bolivia via way of a Crystal Ball in Canterlot Castle," Derpy replied, laughing. "And don't forget, the first half of what I said earlier, also involved me directly."

"Ah," I gasped. "Now I get it. So.... do you think that will be his problems resolved?"

"Actually, I doubt so," replied Derpy. "I kind of know Alberto's nature. He'll marry, and then get into a couple more scrapes. As you can see, his prospective father-in-law is Don Ferrando lo Pescadoro, whose business, the Brony Pony Enterprise, has benefited greatly from none other than Alberto's arch-enemy, Don Francisco Juan Perez. I have a feeling that Alberto's going to have lots of stormy days ahead after this marriage."

"And that is where I come into the picture!" suddenly came a male voice from behind us.

We turned around and saw Thunderlane. He was beaming. "As the pony who knows how to tackle the worst tornados, I will see to it that no such thing happens in Alberto's married life!" he declared boldly.

"I rather doubt it, old chap," I said, skeptical of Thunderlane's boastful nature. "At the rate we're going, you'd sooner end up creating more thunderstorms than clearing them."

"You don't believe me?" said Thunderlane. "Then let me refer you to my superior -- Rainbow Dash."

And just as he spoke, Rainbow Dash arrived on the scene. "Yes?" she said. "What's going on here?"

"Ma'am, they doubt my capability in ceasing all the storms in Alberto's married life," murmured Thunderlane.

"Well, for one thing, let me ask you this then," countered Rainbow Dash. "Are you aware that Alberto is still on the run from the Bolivian People's Army?"

"Mil bombas! I'd forgotten that!" cried Thunderlane.

"Now, now, here comes another pony trying to talk like Alberto!" I laughed, tickled at Thunderlane's sudden use of Spanish.

"It is amusing, Fluttershy," explained Derpy, "but we've got other things to think about now. Please focus."

"Now everypony please listen up first," said Rainbow Dash. "Orders from Her Royal Highness Princess Celestia: All of us have to continue keeping a close watch on Alberto from here. If the need arises, we step in. He is still a little skeptical about most of us, though it seems that he somehow has taken some sort of liking to you, Derpy; for what reason I don't know. But never mind, all of us, let us now proceed to Canterlot Castle to observe."

* * *

MAMA LUISA: On hearing about my son's proposal to Donita, I was overjoyed. Just about time too. They'd been together for not that long, but it was still about time, considering that more than a year of tarrying is already too long in our Aymara Indian culture.

A few days before the scheduled wedding date, I was called up by Don Ferrando lo Pescadoro to meet him at the ballroom of Hotel 81 in La Paz. Don Ferrando had said that he wanted to talk to me.

I came at the appointed time to meet him. Don Ferrando sat me down and ordered me a glass of tequila. "Senora Garcia," he said, "I am very enchanted that your son has been so kind as to propose to my daughter. And I'm also very happy to welcome another member into our household, namely your son Alberto."

"Oh, it's nothing, Don Ferrando," I replied modestly. "I am just happy that Alberto has found his true love at last."

"Hmmm," said Don Ferrando. "There are, however, a few favors I would like to ask of you, Senora Garcia, if you care to listen."

"Si, habla," I consented.

"Muy bien," said Don Ferrando, his face looking grave now. "As you know, our family is a well-respected business family in Latin America. Brony Pony Enterprises has shares in lots of nightclubs around Bolivia and Argentina. All my family are experienced and respected in this field."

"Si," I said, "but what are you...."

"Let me finish first," Don Ferrando interrupted me. "Because of our social status, the wedding is going to be a high-society wedding. We will have a family-members-only dinner banquet in this same hotel the night before the actual wedding day; and on the wedding day itself, the rites will be carried out in the Catedrale del San Pedro. Senora Garcia, you know most of our family are pretty high-society people, but your family is practically unknown in this field; so ...."

"So?" I was shocked.

"So I think that you should not attend the wedding," said Don Ferrando. "No llores, you will be more than welcome to attend the dinner banquet on the night before. Just not the actual wedding, por favor."

Don Ferrando's words cut me like a knife. To think I was not even allowed to attend my own son's wedding, for the sake of keeping Don Ferrando's family name high in esteem....

* * *

ALBERTO: The night of the wedding dinner, before the day Donita and I were to walk down the aisle of the Catedrale del San Pedro, was itself going to be pretty tumultuous. For starters, the minute we sat down to the feast in the restaurant of Hotel 81, I could already see that Mama did not look very happy. In fact, that's putting it mildly; I saw that she was in tears. But for auspicious reasons, I decided not to probe her about it, and concentrate on the dinner. By this time, other than Mama and myself, Uncle Ferrando was present, as was Donita.

The second blow came when Donita's brother Napoleone arrived with his teenage son, Alvaro, in tow. The minute I beheld Alvaro's face, I recalled an incident in 2009 when I was still an employee of All Lee....