Double duty in Disney’s shadow

Immigrants have dream of building an ‘empire’

Evelyn Parada and Carlo Chavéz spend their days scrubbing vacation homes, but their work doesn’t end there. Late into the night, they serve steak sandwiches from their food truck to tourists and theme park workers ending their shifts.

The two immigrants find joy in what they do — giving their all at both cleaning and cooking.

“It’s a dream,” says Parada, who would love to open a second food truck someday with Chavéz’s family and build an “empire.”

“We’re working hard for what we want,’’ she says.

Their day starts with Parada making Chavéz strong coffee before they go to clean their first rental house in Polk County at 10:05 a.m.

The two-bedroom, sandy-colored house is in a neighborhood where all the houses seem identical, with pastel facades and screened-in porches.

Chavéz, 29, and Parada, 31, hardly speak to each other inside. “Talking wastes time,” Parada says. Instead, they get to work. They make a twin bed with military precision, smoothing out the wrinkles and putting fresh pillow cases on in about a minute.

Parada holds a cleaning bottle in each hand, like dueling pistols, as she sprays the bathroom.

Chavéz, who helped his mother clean houses at 18, swipes the smudges from the glass porch door.

He moves fast, but it is easier this way. If he stops, the tiredness might seep through.

The night before, late orders kept them at the food truck until 2 a.m. Chavéz collapsed onto his bed, too exhausted to take a shower and clean off the smell of grease. He finally fell asleep about 3:45 a.m.

“I don’t tell anybody I am tired. I don’t show that I’m tired. I go home and tell God: ‘I’m tired. Renew my strength,’ ” says Chavéz, who immigrated from Peru in 2003.

In about an hour, the carpet is vacuumed, the beds made, the bathrooms scrubbed. They gather their cleaning supplies — white vinegar being the secret weapon, Chavéz said — and leave to finish a second rental property.

With the cleaning done, there is no time for a nap. Their customers expect the truck to open at 7 p.m.

At 6:55 p.m., the food truck, which has a cheerful pond scene painted on the side, pulls into its usual spot between a Pizza Hut and a place that sells amusement park tickets on U.S. Highway 192, just west of the State Road 429 exchange.

“People are already calling,” Chavéz says. “It’s going to be a busy night.”

And sure enough, at 7:01 p.m., a gray Toyota Camry arrives.

The first customer, Mo Hamad, on vacation with his family from Tennessee, orders hamburgers called The Beast on the menu.

Parada takes her place at the grill as the