“I know. She is zombie. Want to attack me. Door breaking gtg.‘
‘I’m in the attic. She doesn’t know I’m here. IDK what to do.’
The next text was sent on the following day.
‘Not doing too well, babe.’
Later that day.
‘So much pain I think dying’
Then the final text, very early the next morning. That would have been yesterday.
‘love u for ever. See u in heaven.’
Maria looked up after reading the last text. The older girl’s face was screwed up in anguish.
“That was it. ... I never got to say goodbye.” The cell phone slipped out of Christine’s hand and onto the table. Maria reached across and put her hand on top of Christine’s hand. The two girls looked at each other for a moment.
“I’m sorry.” Maria said.
Christine blinked the tears out of her eyes and with a small smile she squeezed Maria’s hand. “It’s ok. I know you went through worse than me.”
Maria took a deep breath. She slowly reached for the glass of water in front of her and raised it to her mouth. Before taking a sip, she looked up and locked eyes with the older girl. She took her drink, never breaking eye contact. Christine could tell that the younger girl had made a decision.
“I think I want to talk ... Can I tell you what happened?”
Christine nodded. Maria took another sip and carefully put the glass down. Her eyes now locked on to the half-full glass in front of her as she prepared to share her story.
Maria did not speak for long moments. Christine saw that the younger Latina girl was reliving some terrible things and struggling with them mightily. She was about to tell Maria that it was ok – she didn’t have to talk about it if she didn’t want to – when the young girl started to speak.
“I don’t know why papa and my little brother Jose got sick, while mama and I were fine.” Maria said it almost as if she felt guilty about it.
Chapter Thirty-five
Maria
My dad worked in construction. I remember him coming home every day after work, smelling like metal and sawdust. He would be so tired when he came home from work! But he would always spend time with Jose and me. We used to play in the back yard or go down to the park and play baseball. He used to play professional baseball back in Honduras when he was a young man, before he met mama. Anyway, he adored us.
He paid special attention to my hermanito – that means little brother – and was teaching him all about baseball. He volunteered this summer as a coach, just so Jose could play. We didn’t have enough for league fees, but my dad worked it out with the club. I was very jealous. Especially when I found out that they had been going out for fast food after games. We never eat fast food at my house. He did many things for me too. I guess I shouldn’t have been jealous.
Every day, after supper, papa would always enjoy his pride and joy, his lazy boy chair. I still remember the day we got that chair. Mama had pretty much ordered him to buy it, because he had not spent a penny on himself for as long as I can remember. The whole family piled into our pickup truck and headed to the furniture store. It was a beautiful Saturday! Jose was complaining, asking why we weren’t going to the park. I remember feeling overwhelmed when we walked into that store though. Two floors of fancy furniture, as far as the eye could see!
That chair though. It was love at first sight for papa. He made a beeline for that chair as soon as he laid eyes on it. And the look on his face when he sat in that chair! A sales guy came right over, so papa asked him how much it cost. I don’t remember how much it was, but I remember my dad’s expression fading from excitement to disappointment.
Mama saw it too, and before anybody could say a word she said: ‘We’ll take it.’ My dad tried to argue but there is no arguing with mama once her mind is made up.
After that, every day went the same. Papa would come home from work, we’d play until supper, then we’d eat supper, and after that he would climb into that chair and turn on the tv. The funny thing is that pretty much every day he would fall asleep within half an hour. Jose and I would be climbing all over him and he’d sleep right through it. I remember taking off his shoes and socks and putting nail polish on his toenails. Sometimes we would style his hair! We even put ribbons in his hair the one time.
Papa would sleep through it all.
I don’t think he was really asleep though. He just didn’t want to interrupt our fun.
Mama kept us from getting out of control. She was more of the bad cop in our family. She was strict. I think that was from her upbringing. She was raised on a farm in Honduras, which made her tough as nails and a very hard worker. I don’t know how she did everything, but she did. And I mean everything! From making sure that our house was the cleanest on the block, to cooking almost all meals from scratch, to bringing us to school and picking us up every day – so we couldn’t get in trouble – she would say. Our back yard was even a miniature farm! We had a small pond, a chicken coop, and a huge vegetable garden! I remember being embarrassed by it all. None of our neighbors had this stuff. They had grass and flowers and mini playgrounds. We had beans and eggs.
Jose was our baby. He wasn’t actually a baby anymore – he was eight and hated that we called him our baby
