Nena was born and raised in the small portside pueblito of San Miguel, Mexico. As the oldest daughter in a family of twelve, there were certain responsibilities that she had to take care of, which left her little time for social pursuits.
As only her mother was working, things at home financially became progressively worse until she had to drop out of high school in order to help take care of her little brothers and sisters, while her mother worked at a clothing factory sewing fabrics. Nena's father, Alberto, was a drunk and spent most of the day with his drunken friends inebriated with little motivation to get a job.
Nena's real name was Mary Helen, but her parents had always called her Nena, ever since she could remember.
At eighteen, although all she had to wear were old peasant dresses and hand-me-downs from her mother, it in no way distracted from her obvious physical endowments. A perfect oval face with full, red lips, dark brown eyes that were so deeply brown they were almost black, with lashes that were so thick that they would never need mascara. Her face was framed by impossibly long, curly, thick black hair that fell to the middle of her back and that she frequently wore in a ponytail. Her skin was flawless, smooth, supple, soft and golden brown from many days toiling out in the hot Mexican sun. Her body was firm and toned by the almost constant work at the rancho where she lived.
A point of contention with her, and which caused a great deal of anguish and embarrassment were her breasts. As she had a petite frame, and thin waist, her breasts, even under the baggy peasant blouses that she wore, were prominent. Large, round and firm. She dreaded the visits into town to buy tortillas and vegetables. Having to endure the endless stares and leering from the male townsfolk.
Miguel, who ran the town's only market, was especially dreadful. He smelled like a donkey and made no effort to disguise his obvious lust. When she went to his store he stared openly at her firm breasts and well toned legs and thighs with eyes as big as saucers. What she saw reflected in them, the animal lust, made her want to turn around and go home. She could hardly stand his staring, but had no choice, as it was the towns only market. Life for Nena was hard, very hard.
She was born with a natural zest for life and adventure, but it was held in check by her responsibilities at home and her cultural upbringing. She had just turned eighteen, and like most girls her age was waiting for the day when she could be married and leave the house to start life on her own. She longed to be free, but knew that her mother counted on her and needed her, as did her little brothers and sisters. Her life was going nowhere and there was nothing she could do about it.
About the only thing that she could do was to go to the Elephant once a month, which was the pueblos local disco. It attracted mostly locals, but during spring break attracted the crazy gringos who tore into town like an out of control tornado, yelling and screaming. They oftentimes visited the Elephant to dance and pound down a few cold Cervesas.
The townspeople despised the gringos, but counted on their tourist dollars to help make ends meet, so they had almost free rein in town.
Towards the end of the month Nena spoke with her best friend Constancia about going to the Elephant that coming Saturday. They made plans to meet at the club in the late afternoon, when it was quieter and before all the gringos came. As Nena's parents were poor, dressing up for a night out was a simple affair as she wore basically the same peasant skirt and blouse, but spruced herself up with a little lipstick and clipped her thick hair back away from her face with a colorful, barrette.
Nena's mom walked with her to the door, "You have fun Mija. It's not healthy for you to work all the time." Nena smiled at her mom and kissed her on the cheek. Then she began the long walk into town to meet up with Constancia.
Nena found the club more crowded then she thought and was only able to find a seat at a booth for six where she waited for Constancia to arrive. She made herself comfortable and ordered a coke from the waiter. Fifteen minutes stretched into half an hour and still Nena didn't see Constancia. She began to worry.
At that instant a group of about seven young American men about her age approached her table. The tall, athletic one in front of the group asked her in broken Spanish, "Do you mind if we sit here?"
Nena appeared momentarily at a loss for words, but not wanting to appear unfriendly invited them to sit down. But rather than all of them sliding into the booth at one end of the booth, two of the men made her scoot over so that she was in the middle. Nena felt claustrophobic as if she was stuck in a box.
The tall man introduced himself as Mark and quickly introduced the rest of his friends. Mark called the waiter over and ordered a round of beers for everyone. Nena tentatively shook everyone's hand. Then feeling nervous and a little vulnerable, she tried to get up and leave, stating that she needed to go to find her friend.
Doug, the man on the other side of Nena who appeared a slightly drunken stated, with a slightly slurred voice in broken Spanish, "Just stick around for a beer. We just got done ordering a round for all of us."
"Come on, a beer or two won't kill you," slurred the man named Scott, another of the slightly inebriated gringos.
The waiter shortly arrived with a round of ice cold Coronas. Mark passed one over to Nena who shyly grasped the bottle, and took a small sip.