The Long and Storied Life of Jose Montoya

The Long and Storied Life of Jose Montoya 35aeroplane sitting outside of the circle of wagons.It was beautiful, varnished wood and canvas sparkling in the sunlight, nose angled into the skyas if it were sniffing the air before taking flight. With its four outstretched wings, two on top of two,and its long body trailing out behind, it reminded Jose of a gigantic dragonfly. He hoped he would getto see it fly soon, this wonder of man. His favorite stories when he was a little younger alwaysinvolved magic carpets, and now he was almost within touching distance of what he supposed might bethe closest thing to a magic carpet that he would ever see. He knew asking for a ride in it would be outof the question, but then again, he thought, at this time yesterday he certainly wouldn't have guessedthat he was going to find himself bouncing through the desert on the back of a truck. One never knowswhat one is going to be doing next, was his ultimate conclusion, and in particular that was true whenone was subject to the seeming whims of lieutenants, sergeants and corporals.As if to prove Jose's point, his lieutenant just then had all of the troopers of the platoon form upinto ranks outside of the circle of wagons. He first explained what everyone there already knew, whichwas that the United States Army had permission from the Mexican government to pursue Villa's forcesinto Mexico, where they were to destroy those forces and if possible capture Villa himself.It was a topic that Jose had given some thought to in the past few days. When he had leftMexico he had thought that he would return some day, but he had pictured that day with himself in thestarring role of prodigal son who had made good in a foreign land. Now it seemed that his return toMexico would instead be as part of a foreign army of not-quite invaders. He had not allowed thesethoughts to disturb him overly much, however. Even though his American citizenship had beenpurchased from a sweating, obese man in the back of a bodega in an El Paso barrio, nonetheless Joseconsidered it real in his heart. He had cast his lot with America and as an American. If whatAmericans did was invade, and he was now an American, then he would invade too. Besides, therewas always the chance that once back in Mexico he would be party to yet another battle with the