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<strong>The</strong> <strong>Long</strong> <strong>and</strong> <strong>Storied</strong> <strong>Life</strong> <strong>of</strong> <strong>Jose</strong> <strong>Montoya</strong> 59given. He would in fact manage to keep those blankets – survivors <strong>of</strong> piss, blood, fire, fraying, <strong>and</strong> ahost <strong>of</strong> other untold insults – for the rest <strong>of</strong> his life, until they were brought to the VA hospital where helay dying in an attempt to warm not only his legs but the spirits <strong>of</strong> his children <strong>and</strong> gr<strong>and</strong>children.On that night in Agua Prieta, however, no one was thinking <strong>of</strong> hospitals. After retiring to theroom that he would share with Concepcion just this one last time, <strong>Jose</strong> folded the blankets into hisvalise, lay down on the bed <strong>of</strong> his childhood, <strong>and</strong> fell asleep. <strong>The</strong> next morning, with the practicedhabit <strong>of</strong> a soldier <strong>and</strong> the excitement <strong>of</strong> a schoolboy, <strong>Jose</strong> arose well before the sun <strong>and</strong> crossed backinto America.It's July <strong>of</strong> 1917 <strong>and</strong> <strong>Jose</strong> <strong>Montoya</strong> is on the run. He is running from the warm breath <strong>of</strong> hisfamily to an unknown fate that could suck his own life's breath away from him. He is running from al<strong>and</strong> where rabbits rule the moon <strong>and</strong> kick up dust in the desert to a place where rabbits climb <strong>and</strong>tumble across a l<strong>and</strong>scape carved <strong>and</strong> molded by the advance <strong>of</strong> glaciers <strong>and</strong> made fertile by theirretreat.<strong>The</strong> train ride from his past into his future was long <strong>and</strong> uncomfortable, rolling <strong>Jose</strong> fromArizona to Louisiana to Chicago to Cincinnati over the course <strong>of</strong> two days. <strong>The</strong> trains are serpentswith bellies full <strong>of</strong> soldiers, swallowed up here <strong>and</strong> there to be disgorged wherever the army says theyare needed. Some <strong>of</strong> the soldiers are going to training, some are going to war, some are going home,<strong>and</strong> in their dozens <strong>and</strong> in their hundreds they pack the trains <strong>and</strong> platforms all along <strong>Jose</strong>'s route withbodies, daydreams, sweat, swagger <strong>and</strong> fear.<strong>Jose</strong> wished that he could be laying on top <strong>of</strong> the train like he used to before he joined the army,daydreaming <strong>and</strong> watching the clouds <strong>and</strong> the scenery go by. As he watched America pass by outsidehis window, however, <strong>Jose</strong> for the most part allowed himself to forget that he was pinned inside <strong>of</strong> ametal box <strong>and</strong> instead let his brain fill up with the strange <strong>and</strong> beautiful scenes that projected onto his