El Salto by Jaime H. Herrera

El Salto by Jaime H. Herrera

“Mijo. Venga. Ayúdeme.”  I rouse myself out of bed at two in the morning. “Mijo, lléveme a El Salto,” he tells me as I enter his bedroom.   I sit by his bed, reach over the railing, release his grip. Our hands the same hands, my mother used to say. He shifts and turns, grabs the rails. He wants to get up and ride his horse. “Traígame mi caballo. El Azul” he says. “Papá. Descanse.”  I promise him huevos con chorizo for breakfast if he rests. “Sí.…