Reconnecting With My Compadre, Jaìme

The heavily accented Spanish voice speaking as I answered my cellphone was familiar and welcomed. “Hallo, Meester Gary. It’s Jaìme. How are you?” I haven’t heard from my compadrè since my birthday in 2010, when he called to remind me I was turning 55. “Muy viejo,” he joked at the time. Very old. Jaìme and I became acquainted 15 years ago in Nacogdoches, when I was looking for someone to help out on weekends doing yard work. Day laborers gather each morning at a park just south of downtown. When one drives up, usually a dozen or so men run over. Jaìme beat the crowd to my Jeep,...

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