How Not to Drown in a Glass of Water (35)

So I got dressed and Hernán drove me to City Island. Yes, it was hot enough to sit outside. I took my shoes off and put my feet inside the water. It was like ice. But I needed something. Do you ever have that feeling? When you need something to wake you up? And we saw the sky turn orange, and ate un montón—a box this big—of camarones fritos with cold cervezas.

Sometimes life feels very small and other times it feels very rich. And when it feels small I think it’s because I don’t let myself, you know, enjoy the life.

It reminds me of when I would go to La Escuelita and La Profesora opened the can with cookies.

Try one, she told me.

Lulú took many of them. But I was suspicious. Nobody gives free cookies for nothing. But La Profesora insisted, Cara, eat the cookie.

I ate the cookie.

Oh my God, those cookies! Why are they so good?



* * *



What I am trying to tell you is that last week I said too much, but I need you to understand that I am not a bad person.

Yes, bad things happened. But, listen to me, life was very difficult in Hato Mayor. Yes, Mamá y Papá are complicated people, but they worked hard to take care of us. We were poor but never hungry. And Papá even had a good plan for me. I was going to live with mi tía in la capital to study in the university to become a professional. He wanted all his children to have the capacity to express themselves. He didn’t talk very much, but on Sundays people came from everywhere to dictate tonterías to my father so he could write their letters.

He said, A talent with words is better than a few dollars in your pocket.

But I didn’t go to la capital to study. I went with Ricardo.

Ricardo loved my stories, called me his little cotorrita. Fast, fast we fell in love. In that time, so many men came after me. But Ricardo had pockets full of treasures. One day he gave me a gold bracelet, thin like a thread, so shiny. The next year, I embarrassed. Of course, my mother obligate him to marry me with papers. She said, My baby will not be sin padre.

In the beginning, Ricardo was not bad. Like I told you, it was better than living with my mother, because she had a temper like the devil. Ricardo had a good job, his own butcher kiosko in the market, where people came from everywhere to get his meat. He owned a little land too, and raised many animals. What did I know about men? I was nineteen.

He was sweet when I was embarrassed. Yes, embarrassed, with a baby in my stomach. The correct word is pregnant? OK, I was pregnant. And he was very sweet with me. So this makes me think he really loved me. There was no antojo he wouldn’t get. He massage my feet in the night like una masa de pan. All the women in the barrio said he was bitten good by my brown eyes and my big nalgas. And for a time, we ate meat almost every day. Who can say that in Hato Mayor? Nobody! And not like the meat here, that is more dead than dead. The meat was fresh and like nothing you have ever put in your mouth.

What? No, that was not Fernando. That baby never came.

We tried again and I lost another baby. And this I know frustrated Ricardo. If I was an animal on his farm, he would have killed me and cooked me for dinner. I was not his cotorrita anymore. For a long time, he didn’t look to me. My mother gave me the botellas full of herbs to force the fertility. She said he was going to leave me for another woman if I didn’t give him a baby. But, between us, I wanted him to leave. To live with Ricardo was not easy.

So, of course, my mother thought her botella worked the miracle when I got pregnant at twenty-six years old. That is old in Hato Mayor. Here, in New York, women have babies at forty, even fifty years! And the sweet Ricardo I first met appeared again. So I acted like the wife and I permitted him to be the man. One of my talents is to make people happy.

And when things were good, I knew all the ways to make him happy. That’s right. Exactly what you think. Yes, we did it in every corner of the house. He was always sticking it in me. I was washing the dishes, he stuck it in me. I was about to go to sleep, he stuck it in me. And he’s not a small man. And when he used the father voice with me, ay, call the bomberos! I smell smoke!

But everything changed when Fernando was born, who came early and fast. I knew Fernando was coming because he kicked and kicked in my stomach like somebody knock on the door. I prepared everything: the clean towels, the soap, and the five gallons of water, purified. And the night Fernando came, everything fell on me at the same time. The cramps, the pain in my back, my stomach dropped. But I thought I had more time because my fountain was not broken. So I didn’t wake up Ricardo. To be alone was easier. I liked the silence of the night.

I walked around our casita with two rooms. I made it very nice: one wall was yellow and the other wall was pink. And Ricardo painted the floor of cement the color of grass. Because does not green make you happy too? Yes. It’s my favorite color.

I was tired, but the pain was not too much. So I lay back down in the bed. And Ricardo breathed more loud than that train that passed our house every day. I even fell asleep. And then, you know how Fernando slammed the door and never returned? How he went away without warning me? Without giving me the time to stop him or put sense in his head? That’s exactly how Fernando came into the world. Prá! He woke me up with pain. The pain more intense every minute. So I kicked Ricardo. Wake up! I said. Get the Old Woman Who Knows.

The Old Woman Who Knows bring many babies into the world. She never lost a mother. You know how many women and babies don’t survive? With umbilicals tied around their neck. Born with feet first. Or because the mother has an infection. So many things can go wrong. But not for the Old Woman Who Knows. She did all my examinations and knew more than the fancy machines in the hospitals in New York. She looked to my stomach, because it was round and high, she knew: It’s a boy! She showed me where the nalgas and feet were.