How Not to Drown in a Glass of Water (33)



In the past, when I felt that way, I thought I was dying. But then Lulú taught me the trick about how to calm down. You know the trick? Say three things you see, three things you hear, and then move three parts of the body.

Window, Table, Plant. Refrigerator, clock, ambulance. Fingers, toes, jaw.

Anyway, I try not to think about the past, because what can we do about it?

We all commit errors, but ángela is not fair to me.

ángela is angry all the time for something. Like she wants to make me disappear. She wants to make Mami, Papi, Rafa, Hato Mayor disappear too. If Hernán didn’t have the job in the hospital, she would move far away to Boston, Tampa, Yonkers, anywhere but Washington Heights. She hates everything about the neighborhood. She spits on it and says it’s so dirty, so loud, so crowded, so stinky. Every day she has a complaint. Soon she will leave us and move to Long Island.

She doesn’t care about me. She made all her plans and never asked if it was OK with me. I don’t have a car. How will I see the children? I swear, maybe I should disappear forever? Maybe then she would appreciate me.

Of course, it hurts. After everything I have done for her and her children, she treats me this way. After all I have suffered in my life …

Ay, what must you be thinking about me!

You are so young. How many diplomas do you have? Your mother must be really proud of you. Look at you, with a good job like this. I bet you get good benefits. And a good pension. You are set for life.

ángela is set for life. She has a retirement account. She has Hernán. She is getting her house. But me? What do I have?

I’m sorry. You are so nice to me. It’s that everybody asks, Cara, cook for me. Cara, clean for me. Cara, pick up the children. Cara, do this mandado for me. Cara. Cara. Cara. But who will take care of me? Not even my mother, my own mother, took care of me. If people only knew …



* * *



You want to know? You really want to know? OK, I’ll tell you.

After Ricardo cut off the leg of Cristián, I ran to my mother’s house in the middle of the night, one mile with a baby and my bag. I was terrified. I tried to open the gate, but it was locked. I yelled and yelled to open the gate.

Fernando was heavy. The heat was like an oven. The mosquitoes were eating me alive. ángela, who had thirteen years, came to the window to look, but she could do nothing. Then Mamá opened the door and came outside.

What did you do? she said.

Mamá, open the gate.

Go home.

Mamá, please, I begged.

Go home to your husband. He’s a good man, she said.

Mamá, I can’t go back to him. He’s going to kill me.

Maybe you deserve it, she said and went back inside. She dragged ángela away from the window.

Mamá left me to sleep outside on a plastic chair, like a homeless. Do you know what it feels like to have a mother sending you back to that salvaje? How long that night was for me? In the dark, alone, with Fernando on my chest?

After many hours, ángela unlocked the gate. We went into the bedroom, very silent, and went to sleep.

The next day, Mamá found me and Fernando in ángela’s bed. She pulled ángela arm and threw her off the bed. ?Co?azo! ?Hija de la gran puta! You don’t respect me?

ángela ran to the sala. Mamá grabbed her by the hair and ángela kept trying to get away. She trapped her in the corner on the chair and with Papá’s belt she beat her almost to death. ángela did not cry, holding her tears. Of course this made Mamá more angry. I was paralyzed, holding Fernando. I wanted to jump on her and pull her off of ángela that had thirteen years … almost the same age like Yadiresela. Una ni?a. But I couldn’t move. My father heard the gritos from the other side of the house, and pulled Mamá away to make her stop.

Mamá turned to me and said, This is your fault.



* * *



Do you see how I suffered?

And yes, ángela suffered too. But I didn’t want that to happen. I was hurting too. I didn’t know if Cristián was dead or alive. I only knew that Ricardo was too macho to forgive. If it wasn’t for my father that convinced Mamá to let me stay, I would be dead.

Yes, of course I’m grateful that my sister had the courage to open the gate, of course! You don’t have to ask me that. And I promised ángela many times—many, many times, when she was healing from the pela Mamá gave her—that I was going to help her come to New York. And I kept the promise. But still, ángela is very angry with me.

You have to believe me. I am nothing like my mother.

I don’t remember us having time to play or eat together when we lived in Hato Mayor. But in New York, when Fernando was still with us, we all eat together like a family. We watched the TV in the kitchen and laughed almost every night. When ángela or Hernán eat with us, it was good because Fernando and ángela had a strong connection. When they talked in English about TV or a music, I didn’t understand the English, but I laughed when they laughed.

I was never cruel like my mother. Or cold to the children.

OK, sometimes Fernando and I had fights, but little fights. Like when I didn’t let him close the door of his room. He wanted privacy. I told him, I pay the rent, I make the rules. The door stays open. Anyways, what secrets could he have from me? He was in his room all day, listening to the music. I left him alone. It was not a problem. The only thing I asked was: clean the toilet, throw out the garbage, clean the dishes, and do good in the school.

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