...And other real but comical stories from my poor but happy childhood in New Mexico.
By Maya Contreras (Writer, Actor, Playwright)
(My brothers and me: (L-R) Matisse, Me, and Mondrian)
Chapter One: Mondrian’s Sitting in a Tree.
There was nothing we could do. Mondrian had climbed up into the Eucalyptus Tree in our front yard on Silver Street and he wasn’t coming down.
If one had to be stuck crying in a tree, Mondrian had picked the perfect day to do it. It was balmy 94 degree summer day. Not the usual 112 is usually got to in Albuquerque, New Mexico. If there were a breeze, it might have even felt spring like.
As I looked just past Mondrian to notice the cloudless sky, Matisse’s booming laughter was stifled then halted as mom swiftly made her way out to the front yard.
“Can you please tell me why your little brother is crying in my tree?” She said coolly, grabbed a hand full of Matisse’s curly hair to stop him from laughing any further.