Outside River Run
Alma Mondragon on Travis Quinn
I've always had a realistic perspective, even if I don’t quite believe in reality. Eyes wide open. Enjoy life fully and take your licks with dignity and grace, then work hard to get back.
I’ve got choices—we all do—but the path I’m on is not mine to change. I didn’t want to play the sex games that my brother Tony proposed when I was little. But he was older and knew how coerce a naive child. I’ve kept the secret and always will. But I never let it hold me back, and I’ve taught myself not to hate him. I see things in a larger perspective. I’m like my mother, I can see beyond the usual bound-aries. “See” isn't quite right: it’s like intuition, but stronger, deeper.
From the beginning, I knew Travis was different, that his path would go in an usual direction. I even liked the idea of sharing it for a while, knowing that our paths would eventually diverge. The metaphor isn’t quite right, I know, and a terrible cliché, too. People might call it “destiny,” but I’ve always understood it as being connected to something or someone else beyond the stage set of the world—as really we all are but just never know it, or prefer not to.