“Thanks, girl. I’ll think about it.” I took my sandals off to feel the freshly cut grass between my toes. “How’s your mom liking her new position as superintendent?”
“Young ladies! Congratulations on this very important time in your life when you move from one world to another. I lit candles for all of you at the feet of La Virgen before coming here.”
I looked behind me to see Father Moreno, the local priest, standing there. I had nothing against him, just what he stood for.
“Thank you,” we all mumbled as a courtesy. None of us were religious, although our families were. We didn’t really know him. I shifted in my seat, hoping he would move on from our little group. This was supposed to be a party, despite my mood like a tepid Mike’s Hard Lemonade. Then Ruben saved us.
“Glad you could make it, Father Moreno.”
“Ah, an important man. May God bless you for your service. You must tell me all about your new position overseas! I cannot tell you what a blessing it was to serve as chaplain on your base. Do you have a moment?”
Ruben, the polite type that mothers loved, looked disappointed as he glanced towards the empty seat between Fernanda and Perla, then back at the priest.
“Yes, sir. It will be quite an adventure.”
“Fantastic. Is that your father’s chicken I smell?”
“Yes, sir. Why don’t we go fix you a plate?”
I was relieved when they walked towards the card table topped with aluminium trays filled with mounds of food and two buckets of sweet tea from Bill Miller.
Perla wiggled in her chair to a cumbia. Perla and I had become friends when a boy she liked expressed interest in me. I couldn’t speak Spanish, and he was a student from Mexico. Cesar with his slicked back hair, oversized jeans, and NBA jerseys over a T-shirt. His voice so quiet I could barely understand what he said. He was self-conscious trying to hide his Spanglish, hide that he went to special classes to help him to read and speak English. Perla understood him loud and clear. If Perla had a power, it would be languages. She spoke English, Spanish, aced French, and could have had an A in Latin if she didn’t get so bored with it. A language for old men she called it. I gave her my blessing to date him or fuck him. She did both, recounting all the dirty details to us on a Monday. It almost deepened my resentment that we didn’t speak Spanish at home. We sat in a circle giving the term oral tradition a new meaning. Sometimes when I was alone, I would think about her salacious stories with Cesar.
“I wish Cesar was here,” she said, “I wanna dance! You are all too serious. We graduated! Can we party?”
That was a year ago, the day I missed high school graduation. My family didn’t care enough to ask about the details before, and if they did, it would have meant paying for the extras that go along with the ceremony. Anyway, it was just another piece of paper, like a birth certificate or a passport to show your place in the world. Deep down I was envious of Fernanda, but if one of us could make it big, that would be everything. Someone had to show us there were opportunities available for barrio girls. I mean, we would never be mistaken for blue bloods because our skin is the shade of brown that camouflages veins. Perla, another one on the honor roll in our school, was in the same situation as me. Being smart is great, but there are a lot of smart people out there. Everybody wants to be somebody, but that shit has a price tag and there is no way to cut corners, not for us. That is why Ruben enrolled in the military after doing so well in JROTC in high school.
I felt myself nodding off. I didn’t know if it was a dream or if it was real, but the sound of clicking against tiles made my lolling head jerk upright. I looked around the bright room to see where the noise was coming from. It couldn’t be my sisters because they were all in Lake Jackson visiting family. We had no pets or problems with mice.
The scratching persisted, followed by a low hiss similar to the sound Fernanda had made earlier that night. I couldn’t identify the direction it was coming from until it was right next to me. Four hands, two on either side of my hips and two scuttling towards Fernanda like spider legs. Fingertips as black as frostbitten appendages twitched in exploration. My innards felt like pop rocks crackling and jumping towards my mouth. Before I could move, they caught hold of us, folding our bodies neatly in half and pulling us beneath the bed. I could feel my organs and bones being crushed to powder the deeper I sank. Fernanda remained unconscious, a blanket of floppy hair and skin. I couldn’t shout for help because my lungs were crushed flat.
My head jerked again, and I awoke in the same position I’d been in before falling asleep. Rods of sunlight brightened the room as Fernanda opened her eyes, smacking her mouth as if all the moisture had been sucked out. Her lips appeared dried and cracked. I scrambled to my knees.
“Fernanda! You’re all right.” I wanted to thank those sainted candles for this miracle.
“Lourdes? What happened?”
Another face looking for answers I didn’t have. My relief deflated a little. I’d hoped she would tell me.
“What do you remember?”
She lifted herself to a sitting position next to me. “It was like a nightmare. Everything was on fire and filthy, including myself. I was in the mud barefoot with my legs and hands covered in dirt. And
