Vigil

by Cecilia Samartin

  She nodded and sniffed some more.

  “Well then, how about if I fold it up for you so that it doesn’t get ruined? May I?”

  She nodded again and I took up the drawing. After carefully folding it, I placed it at the bottom of the box. Then one by one we put all of her other treasures over it. Jessie was calmer once this was done and the box was closed. Then she turned to me, her eyes wide with wonder. “I saw Mama naked with Uncle Darwin,” she said. “He has a poky peepee just like Teddy’s.”

  I sat back, unable to speak or move for several moments. A tremor began to invade my hands and my face grew hot.

  Jessie placed her little fingers on my face. “Nana, why are you crying?” she asked. I took her little hand and kissed it, trying my best to smile.

  “I’m fine, Jessie. How about we go downstairs now and finish our dinner?” As far as I was concerned, if Jessie wanted to talk about what she’d seen, there was absolutely nothing I would do to stop her.

  When we arrived to the dinner table, all was back to normal. Teddy was calm, and soon Jessie started to chatter on about her many treasures. All the while Lillian’s eyes focused on mine, pleading with me to understand, but I avoided her stare and tried to concentrate on what Jessie was saying.

  “I have one rock shaped like a heart. That’s my favorite,” she said, enjoying the rare privilege of her father’s undivided attention.

  “What other shapes do you have?” he asked.

  “I have hearts and rainbows. Many, many rainbows,” she replied, arcing her arms over her head.

  “I like rainbows,” Teddy added, eager to get in on the conversation and steal a portion of his father’s interest. “And tarantula spiders too.”

  “I don’t like spiders,” Jessie retorted.

  “Have you ever seen a tarantula?” Mr. Trellis asked, turning to Teddy.

  “Only on TV,” he replied.

  “Would you like to see the ones they have at the pet store?”

  “Yes,” Teddy said, nearly falling off his chair with excitement. “Can we go right now?”

  “Not now, but maybe tomorrow I’ll take you. I happen to know that some people keep them as pets.”

  Jessie made a face.

  “I don’t want a pet tarantula here,” Lillian said sternly to her husband. “This house isn’t big enough for the two of us. I’m sure you feel the same way, don’t you, Ana?”

  Reluctantly, I turned to look at her. “I used to find tarantulas in my little house in El Salvador all the time.”

  “Wow,” Teddy said, duly impressed. “Were you scared?”

  “Yes. I was especially scared of the female spiders. They were even larger than the males and could get as big as your hand.”

  “My goodness!” Lillian said, turning her nose up in disgust.

  “Did you squish ’em dead?” Jessie asked, both horrified and fascinated at the same time.

  “Not exactly,” I explained. “My cousin Carlitos was just a year or two older than Teddy when his mother gave him a big plastic bag she’d saved from market day and directed him to collect all the spiders he could find around the village. There had been a drought, and an army of brown tarantulas had crawled down from the hills in search of moisture. Every day we heard women screaming when the spiders turned up in shoes, under blankets, and just about anywhere a big hairy spider could think of to hide. Carlitos was delighted to be assigned this task, and it mystified me how a boy with such a tender heart could take pleasure in such ugliness.

  One evening as I lay in my hammock, he crept up to me, held the bag up to my face, and shook it. The plastic crinkled and puckered in places as the tarantulas crawled over one another inside. It gave me the shivers to think of so many ugly hairy spiders in one place, but I also pitied the poor creatures because I had no doubt that Carlitos had devised horrific plans for their demise.

  “What are you going to do with them?” I asked with a shudder.

  He gazed pensively at the bag for a moment or two. “I’ll probably drown some of them and burn the rest. Or I might just stick a big sewing needle in the center of them and see how long it takes for them to die. The last one I tried this with took half a day, but it wasn’t as big as some of these,” he said, his eyes glittering with promise.

  “Father Lucas says that all animals are God’s creatures and that we should respect them.”

  Carlitos shook the bag again. “God doesn’t care about big hairy spiders.”

  I turned away from him. “He cares about everyone and everything, even if they’re ugly,” I muttered.

  “Don’t be mad at me, Ana,” he said. “I’m just following Mama’s orders. She said that I had to destroy them or they’d come right back to the village and maybe next time they’ll crawl into your bed and”—he stroked the back of my neck—“right down your back.”

  I swatted his hand away without turning around. “It doesn’t matter. You don’t have to enjoy killing them as much as you do.”

  Carlitos was too honest to argue the fact, so he left with his rustling bag of spiders and went to his hammock without another word.

  That night I was unable to sleep. All I could think about was those poor spiders destined to be destroyed the following morning. When I was certain that everyone had fallen asleep, I crept out of bed and found the bag of spiders under Carlitos’s hammock. Quiet as a mouse, I tiptoed outside and walked to the edge of the village, grateful for the full moon illuminating my way. Several hungry dogs followed me out, thinking that I was discarding trash, but their noses soon told them I carried nothing of interest to them.

  Because of the drought, the river was low and I was able to cross with the water only reaching up to my knees. Once on the other side, I quickly untied the bag and tossed it away from me. The spiders must have been lethargic or perhaps somewhat stunned because they didn’t run out of the bag delirious with their newfound freedom as I expected they would. I prodded them out with a long stick so that I could return the bag to Tía Juana, and they slowly crawled out and disappeared into the night. Only two were dead, and I was certain that the rest wouldn’t be seen in our village again, as everyone knew that spiders couldn’t swim across the river.

  The next morning when Carlitos discovered that his bag of spiders was missing, he immediately suspected me. When I admitted to releasing them, he was angry and refused to play with me, but his anger didn’t last for long. It was easy for me to change his bad moods by tickling his feet, and once he was his lighthearted self again, he said, “Anyway, my spiders will be back.”

  “No they won’t. I released them on the other side of the river, and everybody knows that spiders can’t swim.”

  “Of course they can swim,” he said. “I’ve seen them.”

  “You’re making that up.”

  “No I’m not. They float on all eight of their legs like this, see,” he said, making his hand look like a spider. “And then they move their legs back and forth and then before you know it—” Quick as a flash he put his hand over my face, and I jumped and screamed, which caused Carlitos to laugh so hard he almost fell off his hammock.

  After I finished my story, Teddy was the first to speak, “If I found a tarantula I wouldn’t put it in a plastic bag,” he said. “I’d keep it on a leash and tie it next to my bed. Then I’d take it for walks and scare everybody with it. Wouldn’t you, Daddy?” he asked, his color high at the mere thought of it.

  Mr. Trellis folded his napkin and placed it on the table thoughtfully. “I think I would release it somewhere safe just like Ana did when she was a little girl,” he said, giving me an approving nod, and the slightest hint of a smile.

  “Me too,” Jessie said, clapping her hands.

  The conversation moved on to the proper care and feeding of snakes, and Jessie never said a word about what she’d seen that afternoon.

  Jessie started preschool only a few months later, just as Teddy entered the first grade, and that’s when Darwin began showing up at the house once or twice
a week in the middle of the day. While in the garden, I often heard the sounds of their seductive laughter drifting out from one of the many open windows. It seemed they were taunting me with their perverted version of musical chairs, daring me to look up toward the sound and discover them, but I didn’t want to see any more than I’d seen already. It sickened me to think that Ms. Lillian could betray her husband and family in such a blatant and perverse manner, and try as I might, I couldn’t understand it. Even when I thought back on all she’d told me about her abusive past, it still made little sense to me.

  So that I wouldn’t have to look into her eyes and pretend to understand as I knew she wanted me to, I avoided her. If I heard her voice in the entry hall after a shopping trip, I turned and went in the opposite direction. She often spent time with the children in the afternoon after their naps when they were in happy, playful moods. At these times, I dressed them in their play clothes, fed them their snacks, and left them with Lillian alone in the back patio or in the sunroom.

  One afternoon as I was leaving them with her on the pretext of needing to tidy the nursery, she said, “I was thinking of going to church with you this Sunday. It’s been such a long time and I miss it. Would that be okay with you, Ana?”

  Both Teddy and Jessie were playing in the corner with their toys, so I was sure they couldn’t hear me when I replied rather sternly, “You don’t have to ask my permission to go to church, Ms. Lillian.”

  She was taken aback by my response and studied me for a moment or two.

  “Fine, I won’t go if that’s the way you feel about it,” she said, folding her arms across her chest and pouting prettily.

  I wanted nothing more than to get away from her and was almost to the door when I stopped and turned around, my arms also folded across my chest. “You may think that I’m very stupid and perhaps I am, but God isn’t stupid. He sees everything. He knows everything, and he isn’t fooled by a person who goes to church on Sundays and then lives their sinful life as usual every other day of the week.”

  Ms. Lillian narrowed her eyes at me and then smiled slyly. “So are you saying that I should go to church every day?”

  “I’m afraid that not even that will help you now,” I said.

  At this, her face broke out into a big easy grin. “My goodness, Ana, you make it sound as though I’m the most wicked person you’ve ever known.”

  When I didn’t deny it, her smiled dropped instantly. “You should remember your place here and try to show me a little more respect.”

  I remained silent, and she sat up in her chair. “If I wanted to I could have you fired, and you’d be packing your bags tomorrow. But, of course, I know that if I did that you’d tell Adam everything you know about me.”

  “You can rest assured that I’ll never tell Mr. Trellis anything,” I replied. “And if you like, I can leave tonight. There’s no need to wait until tomorrow, I have very few things to pack.”

  “That isn’t what I want,” Lillian said, her eyes watering. “I want you to…” Her lips started to tremble. “I want you to be my friend and confidante again,” she said in a whimper.

  “You know very well why I can’t do that anymore, Ms. Lillian,” I replied sadly.

  She then set her jaw and looked away.

  “I’ll be back for the children in an hour or so,” I said, and I left the room.

  For the first time, I would’ve been grateful for the opportunity to gossip with Millie about what was going on because at least then I wouldn’t be dealing with the situation alone, but Millie had been spending more time in her room and emerging from her naps with a thicker glaze over her eyes and the ever-more-pungent odor of whiskey on her breath. She usually recovered sufficiently to prepare the evening meal, but in the middle of the day, she was oblivious to what was going on in the house.

  One afternoon while sitting at the fountain with a letter from Sister Josepha, I detected movement out of the corner of my eye and turned to see Darwin and Lillian watching me from Lillian’s bedroom window. They stood shoulder to shoulder within the frame of the window, as though posing for a picture.

  I turned my attention back to my letter and tried my best to concentrate on its contents. Sister Josepha wrote to me of her joy in knowing that finally, with the help of the United Nations, the peace accords had been signed in El Salvador. What’s more, several high-ranking officers implicated with plotting the murders of priests and peasants during the war had been detained, pending an investigation. It was cause for great celebration in my country, and I was grateful that my prayers for peace had finally been answered.

  Sister Josepha also wrote about the great challenges she was facing at her school. There wasn’t enough classroom space for the children, and they were in desperate need of a playground so that the children wouldn’t have to play in the dirt. Given the difficult conditions and measly salary, it was difficult to recruit teachers, and she hoped that before too much longer I’d be available. There was more, but I couldn’t focus properly on what I read when I knew that Lillian and Darwin were watching me all the while. When I finally yielded to their stares and looked back to the window, with a disapproving scowl cut across my face this time, they were gone.

  Several nights later I was awakened by a frantic muttering next to my ear and opened my eyes to see Lillian kneeling next to my bed. I immediately sat up and turned on the light. Her hair was disheveled, and smeared makeup darkened the hollows of her eyes. “I know that you’re not my friend anymore, but I need to speak with you anyway,” she whispered. “You’re right. God knows everything and he sees everything, and I don’t know how much longer I can live this crazy charade. Sometimes I think that I should just tell Adam the truth and leave before I destroy my family. But when I think about leaving my children and this house and my life, I get so afraid. I don’t think I could ever survive on my own.”

  “Then you must try harder,” I said. “To resist this temptation, you have to focus all of your heart, mind, and soul.”

  “I try, Ana. Believe me, I do. I pray all the time like you taught me, but why is it that when I do manage to resist temptation, I don’t feel any better? Why do I feel like I’m all tied up in a knot? Shouldn’t I feel liberated?” she asked, her eyes pleading. “Instead, I only get more annoyed with Adam. I can’t stand the sight of him, the sound of him, the smell of him, and least of all his touch. But when I give in to temptation with others, Adam becomes my noble prince, and all of a sudden I love him again.”

  “I don’t know why you’re feeling this way, but if you’re going to stay in the marriage, you have to keep trying.”

  “But how?” she asked, pressing her hands together. “If I pray any more than I have been, I might as well become a nun, and you and I both know that no convent would ever accept me.”

  I covered her hands with my own, my mind whirling in many directions at once as I searched for another solution. “My mother used to tell me that positive thoughts are like the sun that can banish the darkness of wicked thinking.”

  “I must stay positive,” Lillian muttered, closing her eyes. “I must think positive thoughts.” She opened her eyes. “What positive thoughts should I focus on, Ana? Should I think about angels and saints and all those holy kinds of things?”

  “No,” I said, vigorously shaking my head. “We tried that already and it didn’t work. Now it’s time to think about something closer to home. I believe that it would be better for you to think about your husband and all of his good qualities.”

  “Yes, of course, he’s a very good man and he has many good qualities doesn’t he?”

  “Of course he does.”

  Lillian closed her eyes and tried to relax. “My husband is very skilled at managing money,” she said. “That’s one good thing I can say about him.”

  “What else?” I asked with an encouraging nod.

  She closed her eyes tighter, but when she opened them again she looked more fearful and anxious than before. “I can’t think of anything e
lse. I’m sorry, but I just can’t.”

  “Ms. Lillian,” I replied, unable to disguise my disappointment, “Mr. Trellis has so many good qualities that you should be able to list dozens without having to think very hard.”

  “Fine, then why don’t you continue where I left off?” she said in a challenging tone.

  I sat up straighter in bed. “He’s a loving father and a hard worker. It’s true that he can be stern at times, but this is only because of the unbearable tenderness in his heart. He has a strong character and definite opinions about things, but he’s open and curious as well. He has a brilliant mind, yet he’s patient and understanding with those who aren’t as gifted as he. He is courageous, and noble, and he puts his family first above everything else.”

  Gazing up at me with misty eyes, she said, “I’m not sure we’re talking about the same man, but hearing you speak about him like that does make me feel better.”

  “I’m only speaking the truth as I see it, Ms. Lillian.”

  She lowered her head contritely. “Do you…do you think he’s handsome and desirable? I don’t mean to ask you such an awkward question. It’s just that I…I used to think he was very handsome, but lately, unless I’m misbehaving, I don’t feel attracted to him at all.”

  I felt a sudden chill steal up my spine, well aware that what I felt for Mr. Trellis would be considered more than reverent admiration, but then I banished the thought. “Ms. Lillian, the other day when your girlfriends were here, didn’t you notice the way they looked at your husband when he walked into the room?”

  She shook her head. “I wasn’t even sure they noticed him.”

  “They noticed all right. In fact, they couldn’t take their eyes off him. And the blond lady…”

  “Gina?”

  “Yes, she unbuttoned the top button of her blouse when she realized that he was out in the corridor.”

  “You’re kidding me,” Ms. Lillian said, her eyes glittering.

  “Be careful, Ms. Lillian, or someone might steal your husband away from you. Maybe they would have by now if he weren’t so devoted to you.”