Mama spent most of the day with papa in their room. I could hear them talking softly. Occasionally I heard laughter coming from their room. Other times, I could hear them crying. Jose must have gotten untangled as I heard him banging around in his room every now and then.
We noticed that the banging around would only happen right after somebody else made a noise in the house. When things grew quiet there wouldn’t be any noise coming from Jose’s room. I had an image in my mind of Jose just standing there with those eyes wide open... It was scary.
Mama fixed us something to eat for supper, and we ate in mama’s bed as papa was too weak to leave the bed. He could hardly eat, but at least we managed to be together for one more meal.
After supper papa asked to see me alone. I crawled in bed with him and put his arm around me. He whispered to me as we lay there.
“My girl. I love you so much. I’m sorry that this is happening.”
“Papa its not your fault. And I love you more!” That brought a brief smile to his face.
“Listen to me, Maria. I want you to live a long, healthy life.”
“Ok papa.”
“But most importantly you have to live a happy life! Without happiness, all the other stuff is meaningless. Remember that.”
“Ok papa.” I had started crying.
“I’m going to be leaving soon. But my spirit will always be with you. You are the most precious girl in the world.”
“Papa don’t leave.” I could hardly get the words out between sobs. “I’m scared!”
“Maria my beautiful girl. It’s ok to be scared. I’m scared too. But mama and you are everything to me ... now that Jose is gone.” He frowned for a moment. “Maria, you and mama don’t have this ‘syndrome’. You feel fine, right?
I nodded. I hadn’t really thought about it. Papa’s expression became serious. “Please. Promise me. Promise me that you and mama will stay safe. I need you and mama to live.”
I lay in his arms for several minutes, crying. He stroked my hair and silently cried with me. Eventually, I looked up at him and uttered one word. “Ok.”
He smiled and asked me to get mama.
I reluctantly left his side and got mama. She was sitting at the kitchen table. I could tell that she had been crying as well. We hugged briefly as she passed me. I felt the need to be strong for her, so I smiled at mama when she released me from the hug.
“We’re going to be ok. It will be ok.” I said as I sat down in the chair she had just vacated.
Oh, how I wanted to believe it...
She left me sitting at the kitchen table and went to see papa. I was curious so I got up and stood at the end of the hall while she was in the room with papa. After about half an hour mama came out and closed the door behind her. She rested her head on the door for a moment, exactly as she had done very early that morning, after locking Jose in his room.
She came over and together we walked back into the kitchen. We sat at the table and held hands. We just sat there in silence for a few minutes. I could tell mama was really struggling.
Mama told me that she had tied papa up with sheets, securing his arms and legs so that he would not be able to escape. She didn’t know what else to do. We didn’t talk about what we would do after papa was gone. But I think both of us had accepted that he was going to die.
We slept together in my bed that night. Neither of us slept very well. There were lots of noises outside, including gunshots and occasionally, screams. I remember waking up several times and thinking briefly that this was all a bad dream. But then I would feel mama’s arm around me and remember all that we had been through – and know that this nightmare was real.
Mama and I woke up early the next morning. The sun had barely risen. We got dressed and crept like mice to the kitchen. After brushing our teeth in the kitchen sink, we had breakfast. All this time we were making as little noise as possible, in fear of rousing the undead in the house. You see, in our hearts we were already sure that papa was gone too.
We ate sliced oranges from our own back yard for breakfast. Mama had fixed mine and was working on hers. She finished slicing the orange and put the knife on the table. As she sat down, she jostled the table, and the knife slipped off and clattered to the tile floor with a terrible racket.
Mama and I sat in stunned silence, our eyes wide with fear. Jose was making a racket in his room. But there was no noise from papa’s room. We sat there for at least a full minute, listening for any noise from papa – but there was nothing. Just then we thought we heard a low moan.
“Did you hear that?” Mama whispered to me. I nodded.
We both quietly got up and walked down the hallway, until we were at papa’s door. We heard another moan, and this time we could make out mumbled words. Mama softly opened the door. We both peeked in and saw that papa was still alive!
His wrists and ankles were tied to the bed frame with sheets. He lay in a spread-eagle position, with a blanket covering most of his legs and torso. His skin had gone pale, and the sheet under his head looked like it was soaking wet. His eyes were closed but then opened when he sensed our presence. His mouth started to move. He was trying to say something.
We moved in close to hear.
“W– Wa... ter.” He whispered through cracked lips.
I immediately ran to the
