!~OLE~! EL MATADOR CAFE

Betty and Booty Reyes
were a part of my life
even before I was born.
They knew about me
before I arrived here.
They owned the magical
"El Matador Cafe".

This magical childhood "restaurant"
was the "next door neighbor"
to my Dad's barber shop.
I remember one of their
first born grandson's
crying when my Dad cut his hair...
'cause he thought it would hurt...
no matter what the grown up folks said.

Betty and Booty
were always there for me.
I was known as "their" girl...
Whenever I went into the restaurant,
even as a youngster,
their own kids would run to get them
telling them, "Your girl is here".
I got all kinds of treats
and "Mexican food"
just cause they loved me.

Betty would always watch for me
out on the block playing...
Immediately, upon sighting me,
she would say,
"There is the prettiest girl
on the block."

When I was little,
sometimes I would hear the siesta music
late at night...
especially during the holiday times....
my young heart loved
the "fiesta" music...

I remember being fascinated
when they painted
the outside of the restaurant
with many scenes of Old Mexico.

I went to school
with some of their grandkids.
Everyone had me pegged
as "Betty and Booty's girl".
How blessed I was
for being their loved one.
As an older teen,
I began to be included
in the "fiesta holidays".

As I "grew up",
Betty would tell me,
"All my kids know
that the El Matador is home.
You are one of my kids..."

Betty not only
watched me grow up,
she actively participated
in "rearing me"
and planting strong roots
that would run deeper
even than I would be aware of
for a long time.
In some ways she knew me better
than almost anyone else
...especially in the days of my childhood.

Betty was the neighboorhood "wonder".
She was the talk of the "block".....
In those days,
we didn't have "air conditioning"
and we marveled
as she "slaved"
over a hot stove
in the Kansas heat.
As hot as she had to be,
you couldn't catch her
without a beaming smile on her face.

Christmases were especially wonderful..
Booty would find
the "just right" Christmas tree.....
it took not a few hours
to decorate the tree but days.....
Pinatas hung gayly....
the family band would play
the "Fiesta" songs....

I was not allowed
to pay for a meal there.
Once, I wanted some of my friends
to try the food...
there were about six of us....
I had every intention
of paying for the meal....
When I went "up front"
they told me there was no charge...
that my friends were always welcome.

Betty told me,
"People always say
the food tastes different here....
They tell me
that they enjoy it so much....
and no one else can cook
like this.....
The reason why that is so
is because before I serve any meal,
I say a prayer over that plate of food...
for it to be a blessing
to the people it is serving."

Every item on the menu
was made "from scratch".
There was an explanation
on the menu stating
how good food
made that way...
could take longer.....
etc....etc...etc....
but no one cared....
They came because
Betty and Booty loved them
and they loved Betty and Booty.

When a days work was done
and it was time
for Betty and Booty
to go home at night,
the leftovers went with them.
Even after the children grew up,
Betty always found "others"
as in the neighborhood "stray" animals
to feed the scraps to.
Waste not and want not
was another golden rule
they lived their lives by.
Always, they excelled
the golden rule of,
"Do Unto Others
As You Would Have Them
Do To You".
They were also well acquainted
with the "Good Samaritan"
and never hesitated
to open the doors
of their restaurant "home"
or the doors to their hearts
to anyone they could help.

When I was a youngster,
I almost lived on my byke.
One byke riding childhood day,
I heard Booty yell,
"MOVE! QUICK"
As I looked up in astonishment,
(for he had never raised his voice at me),
he made a beeline for me.
It never made the papers.
Not all wonders
of life,unfortunately,
have a reporter standing nearby.
Maybe it should have.
He saved my life
as he whisked me
just in time
from the live telephone wire
that fell.

Booty got his nickname
when Betty was pregnate
for the first time.
She knitted a pair
of baby booties
as the way of announcing
that she was going to have
their firstborn...
Booty was so impressed....
she started calling him "Booty"
and the name stuck....
Well, I wouldn't know
except that is what they told me.

When Betty died,
I was living out of State....
When I came back...
Booty and I held each other
and we cried....
Of course,
we were in the El Matador..
That night,
for the first time,
on my "coming home"
we did not eat at the El Matador.
He took me out,
at his insistance,
to eat at Sambo's.....
it was just to much to try
to eat there without her
or for him to cook.....

The restaurant lived on....

Booty died...
The kids took
the restaurant over....
thus continuing the tradition
their folks had so lovingly started.
In fact, their oldest son
bought my Dad's barber shop....
I haven't been back
for the longest time...
I don't know what the barber shop
is being used for......
Something tells me though
the El Matador will never be the same
without Betty and Booty....
It started way back in the 50s
and is one of those yesterday stories...
So, far it is still in business
The family will do their best
to keep it that way.

For me, though,
I will dream of yesterday
of the sweetness of Betty and Booty
and all the marvels
that their "grace being said over food"
always produced in multitude.

As for Betty and Booty,
I hope angels are serving them
as they so lovingly served others.

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