My Latin gardener has "disappeared." [View all]

[PeaceWave]

Last edited Wed Feb 19, 2025, 02:07 PM - Edit history (1)

Carlos has been our gardener for approximately five years now. At the very beginning of the pandemic, he rolled up to our house in his old rust colored truck, the vehicle's best years far in its rear view mirror. Stepping out, the young man introduced himself. In a timid voice which only became more confident when we indicated that we speak Spanish, Carlos explained that he'd recently lost his job with a construction company but that he was hard working and was going to turn around a bad situation by starting his own landscaping business. "No vine tan lejos sólo para perder." "I didn't come this far just to fail."

Carlos was from El Salvador, a fact which immediately ingratiated himself to us, since our own family's roots extend to that country. "Were we interested in being his first client?" "Do you have an edger?" I asked. I can mow a lawn with the best of them. But, for some reason, edging is a skill I've never mastered, my personal kryptonite. "Yes, I have all the tools I need." The earnest and hopeful look in Carlos' eyes transcended language and culture. Salesmanship begins with the ability to engender trust, the awareness of which is lost on legions of fancy suits hawking their equally fancy financial products. We'd never had a gardener before. But, now we did.

Over the ensuing years, Carlos transformed our lawn and gardens into the envy of the block. His business too flourished. He took on first one, then a second assistant. The old rust colored truck gave way to a bigger spanking white one. Despite having more clients, Carlos' care and attention to detail never diminished. At the slightest sign of yellowing, the lawn was fertilized. Failing sprinkler heads were swapped out. Groaning sprinkler valves were replaced. Along the way, Carlos told us in his steadily improving English about his family and his pride in beginning to achieve his American dream. His son, he said, would also work with his hands. He would be a surgeon.

And now, without any notice whatsoever, Carlos and his two assistants have simply vanished. He has twice missed Monday, his scheduled day to work at the house. The first time it happened was brushed aside. Perhaps he was ill. When the second Monday passed without seeing Carlos and his crew, we became concerned. Calls to his telephone number first went unanswered, then were met with a full mailbox notification. A visit to a neighbor on an adjoining street who had also become one of Carlos' clients was met with a similar story. "We don't know what happened to him. We're worried." A man, his livelihood and his American dream are all as though they never existed.