Hmph. It's been a slow day at work, so I've hammered out the first bit of a Hermanos fic. Please tell me whether or not it sucks.

Thank you.

El Diablo Robotico--A Fairy Tale

The true tale of the Hermanos Numeros and El Diablo Robotico is a long one, for there is much you must understand about los Hermanos themselves before you can truly understand how they defeated the Devil's machine.

Los Hermanos had always known they were special, even before they were born. After all, hadn't their mother traveled to El Norte with nothing more than an empty suitcase and two chickens because the Virgin had spoken to her from a plate of frijoles negros and told her that a great destiny waited for her in the city of the blessed angels?

Before long, however, their mother came to doubt the Virgin. There was not much that was great about working twelve hours a day doing other peoples' laundry only to go home tired and weary to a man who often drank more than was good for him. She soon gained a reputation for being a little crazy. After all, what sane woman would fly into a rage and shriek blasphemous curses whenever she saw a plate of frijoles negros?

She remained bitter and angry for a long time. There were other women who worked in the laundry who had even harder lives than she did, yet they did not seem bitter. Perhaps this was because they had not been lured to Los Angeles with bright, false promises.

On the nights where her husband collapsed into bed without saying a word or running his hands over her body, giving her sweet promises that she knew he would keep--not forever, but long enough to give her an illusion of happiness--she would go out walking. Even though she knew it was prideful of her, she never wore her crucifix or carried so much as a withered clove of garlic. It did not matter to her that the vampiros had taken a dozen people that year. If she truly did have a great destiny, God and the Virgin would not let any harm come to her. If the destiny was nothing more than a lie, then what did it matter if the demons took her and drank her blood?

"Oh, mi hijos," she said many years later, "listen and learn from what I tell you. Padre Dominguez may have told you of the Seven Deadly Sins, but I tell you that there is a sin that is darker and far more dangerous than any of those."

"What sin is that, Mama?" asked Dos, who was the brightest and most curious of the brothers.

"Desesperacion," she said, and although her sons did not understood why despair and the loss of hope was any worse than greed, lust, or wrath, they remembered this as they did all the other bits of their mother's advice.

On the nights where her husband collapsed into bed without saying a word or running his hands over her body, giving her sweet promises that she knew he would keep, she would go out walking.

Do you mean "sweet promises that she knew he would NOT keep"

Do you mean "sweet promises that she knew he would NOT keep"

I'm going to go back and revise slightly...

...and she is fixed.

No problem. Just seemed to fit the storyline better, that's all...

Hee hee hee...

She soon gained a reputation for being a little crazy. After all, what sane woman would fly into a rage and shriek blasphemous curses whenever she saw a plate of frijoles negros?

I really, really like this, Anne. I'm a sucker for stories with a strong framing narration anyway, and I like this one particularly.

After all, hadn't their mother traveled to El Norte with nothing more than an empty suitcase and two chickens because the Virgin had spoken to her from a plate of frijoles negros

BWAHAHAHAHA!

Anne, this is completely nifty.

purrs with delight at the nice comments

Here's a bit more. Right now it's more about the origins of Los Hermanos, but I'll get to the robot eventually.

But before this conversation could take place, several things had to happen. The first of these was on Easter Sunday, nearly four years after she had made the long, lonely voyage to a not-so-foreign land.

She was sitting in Mass, thankful that the sickness that had plagued her for the past few months seemed to be passing. When the priest said the benediction, she felt something leap within her. Surprised, and not a little frightened, she put her hand to her belly. Again, she felt the movement. A child? She was going to have a child?

As they sang an old Easter hymn, some of her carefully nurtured bitterness began to leave her heart.

Over the next few months, as the child grew within her, she started to notice that her belly was not the only thing that was changing. Places and people that were holy beckoned to her like a light, or the smells that came from her mother's kitchen. When she was in church, or in the presence of a truly good person, she felt at peace, and her baby slumbered within her.

On the other hand, she always knew when the vampiros were hunting because her baby was restless and kept poking her as if it wanted to burst out and fight. Also, she somehow seemed to know which people were out to trick her or who meant her harm. One day, when she was in the market, she passed an old woman who had a reputation of being a most spiteful bruja. The baby kicked so hard that she screamed and toppled to the ground.

Two days after that, the old woman was arrested for poisoning her husband.

Late in her pregnancy, sitting in bed as the doctor had ordered, she rested her hand on her belly and thought about this child of hers who seemed to have an understanding of good and evil.

"You have a fine, good spirit," she told her unborn child. It is a good thing to have a spirit--una alma--that is wise in the way of such things."

She named this first child Uno, since something--most likely the beans she had cooked the night before--told her that this was not the only son she would bear.

Anne, this is an incredible story so far. I like your take on the mama de los hermanos.

Reminds me of "The Milagro Beanfield War" which I loved muchly.

Thanks, y'all! I'm deliberately trying for a sort of fairy-tale, magical realism thing, and I'm glad it's working. I should have more up in a little bit.