by Emma Otheguy
Gabriela stared at her hands. “It’s not that you moving here bothers me. I actually kind of like that our house isn’t so empty anymore. My parents used to obsess over me all the time; now they can worry about you and Daniel some of the time. It’s just…”
“I’m weird,” Carolina finished for her.
Gabriela shook her head. “No, you’re not. Actually, you know what? You’re not at all.” She swung her legs over the edge of the bed and stood up. “Or if you are, I don’t care. I’m done caring.” She marched across the room.
“Where are you going?”
“To your room. I want to see your sketchbook.” Gabriela took Carolina’s hand firmly, yanked open the door, and led her across the hallway of the sleeping house.
They huddled on Carolina’s bed together, and Carolina flipped through her sketchbook, searching for a drawing she’d made from a photo of the house her grandmother had lived in. Señora Rivón had told her it was a good drawing because she’d captured the shade of the palm fronds hitting the house perfectly, taking into account the angle of the sun and the shape of the tree.
“This was our grandmother’s house,” Carolina said proudly. “Mami and Tía Cuca’s mom, Carmen. My mom had a photo of the house from before Abuela Carmen died, and I drew it.” She went to turn the page, but Gabriela took the sketchbook out of her hands and examined it.
“I remember that house,” Gabriela said. “From when we visited when I was little. There was this statue of the Virgin Mary in the backyard, and a little fountain. There were goldfish in it.” Gabriela closed her eyes. “Lots of birds too. There must have been a bird feeder. And wind chimes.” She opened her eyes. “I loved that house.”
Carolina stared at her and took back the sketchbook. “That’s wasn’t Abuela Carmen’s house. That was my house. The one we’re selling.” She closed the book.
“Oh.” Gabriela eyed the book again. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay.” Carolina took a deep breath. “I guess I could tell you about my house too. It was a good house.”
Gabriela inched closer to Carolina. “Want to hear a secret? I loved our old house. My parents said it was too small and it was always too hot or too cold because it was so old, but I still didn’t really want to move. Even though I have a bigger room and I live closer to Alyssa now—not that that matters anymore—I still miss it.”
“I have a drawing of the fountain.” Carolina tucked her hair behind her ear and spread the sketchbook across both of their laps. Gabriela’s hair smelled like vanilla and coconut, and Carolina wondered if that was what made it so shiny. She showed Gabriela the drawing of the fountain and, finally, the latest drawing she’d made, of the flamboyán tree in the yard. “That was where I used to do my drawing.” She wiped her nose with the sleeve of her sweater.
Gabriela examined the flamboyán tree for a long time, saying nothing. Then she said, “We’ve got to talk our parents into taking us to visit soon.”
“Someday,” Carolina said, knowing that if it had been years since Uncle Porter and Tía Cuca had bought three plane tickets to Puerto Rico, it might be even more years, ages, before they went again.
Gabriela handed back the sketchbook, reverently. “Don’t you have to bring Daniel his Pérez-guy money? I don’t want you to forget.”
“The Ratoncito Pérez!” Carolina jumped to her feet and pulled an envelope from her bottom drawer. She took out a ten-dollar bill, put back the envelope, and beckoned to Gabriela to follow. “He sleeps like a rock,” Carolina whispered. Together, she and Gabriela tiptoed into Daniel’s room, and Carolina slithered under the bed and placed the ten dollars underneath the Ratoncito Pérez.
Carolina shut the door behind her carefully, and she and Gabriela were once more alone in the dark hallway.
“Bedtime, I guess,” Gabriela whispered. Then she hugged Carolina, quickly, with a light pat on the back. “Night, cuz.”
Daniel shook Carolina awake at dawn. “Look!”
In the half-light, Carolina squinted at the fuzzy white mouse cupped in Daniel’s left hand—and the ten-dollar bill clutched in his right. She smiled sleepily.
“Remember to say thank you.” Her voice was scratchy; it was so early.
“Gracias, Mr. Ratoncito Pérez.”
“Remember, he probably wants it to be kept a secret. Not everyone likes mice.”
“Don’t worry, Mr. Ratoncito Pérez. I’ll keep your secret.”
Daniel climbed up onto Carolina’s bed with the little mouse. “What are you going to do today, Caro?”
Carolina propped herself up with one elbow. “I don’t know. I want to go over to Jennifer’s again, but I don’t know if I can. Mami might not like it.”
Daniel had started making kissy faces at the Ratoncito Pérez. “So?”
“Well, I don’t want her to be mad at me.”
“Why not?” Daniel kicked his legs from the edge of the bed. “Mami gets mad at me all the time, but she still loves me.” He squeezed his eyes shut and beamed his toothless smile at Carolina.
“Who wouldn’t?” She reached over and tousled Daniel’s hair. Then she patted the mouse figure with her index finger. Maybe Daniel was right, maybe Carolina could do things that Mami didn’t like and still be Mami’s Carolinita, still be mother and daughter. After all, Daniel was smart for his age.
Downstairs, Mami and Tía Cuca gathered around for Daniel to get his gift from the tooth fairy. Daniel punched the five-dollar bill into the air. “Now I’m really rich!”
True to his word, Daniel said nothing about the Ratoncito Pérez. Gabriela, leaning casually against the counter, ate a cup of yogurt. “Way to go, Daniel,” she said, then turned to Carolina. “You’re going to Jennifer’s today, right?”
“Why don’t you invite Jennifer over here?” Tía Cuca asked. “I want you to really feel like this is your house, Caro.”
Carolina hesitated. It would be nice to have Jennifer over; she was sure that if Mami got to know Jennifer she wouldn’t worry as much when Caro was with her. But if Jennifer came to Tía Cuca’s, they wouldn’t get to go to the cabin.
“She can’t,” Gabriela filled in. “I was going to invite Jamie over today, remember?”
“It’s a big house,” Tía Cuca said. “I’m sure there’s plenty of room—”
“That’s okay,” Carolina said quickly. “Jennifer already said her dad would come get me. Next time, Tía Cuca.”
Gabriela gave Carolina a knowing smile. Carolina tucked her hair behind her ear. Had Gabriela just stuck up for her?
While Daniel and the grown-ups sat down at the kitchen table, Carolina rummaged for milk in the refrigerator.
“What’s Alyssa doing today?” Tía Cuca asked tentatively, and there was a long pause before Gabriela replied.
“I think she’s going to the lake. But I didn’t want to go.”
“This isn’t still about the other night, is it, honey?”
“Nope,” Gabriela replied.
“Okay, just remember that Alyssa’s dad—”
“Is Daddy’s boss.” Gabriela pushed herself away from the counter and left the kitchen.
* * *
—
The soapy water sloshed around the bucket as Jennifer and Carolina tried to sync their steps. They were spilling all over the place, and over her shoulder Carolina saw trails of water running like hot lava down the dry hill.
“I feel like Jack and Jill,” Jennifer complained.
“That’s actually one thing I like about Larksville,” Carolina said. “I always feel like I’m living in a story.”
They reached the cabin and unlatched the door. “This place makes me think of Rumpelstiltskin,” Jennifer said, setting the bucket down inside. She lifted the elf out of the fireplace and held him cupped in her hands. The glow of the tarp in the window illuminated her hands, an
d Carolina could almost see it: Jennifer spinning straw into gold as deftly as she felted and carved and sewed. There was a sparkling ribbon woven through Jenn’s braid today, and Caro had thought it was a concession to Fiona, but now she saw it for what it was—a little bit of magic, made of string.
They scrubbed the floor, washing months, maybe years, of dirt away.
“You do know that it’s only going to get dirty again?” Jennifer joked, watching Carolina’s enthusiastic scrubbing.
Carolina held up her sponge, which was black with dirt. “This dirty?” She squeezed the sponge out in the bucket, and the soapy water quickly turned brown, and soon black.
“It was a joke,” Jennifer mumbled.
Realizing how sharp she had sounded, Carolina sat back on her heels. She put down her sponge.
“My parents sold our house in Puerto Rico,” she said finally. “The new owners are going to tear the whole thing down.” She rubbed her eye, ignoring the soap she smeared across her face. “Before we left, my mom cleaned the whole place. We scrubbed it from top to bottom. She shouldn’t have done that, not if they were just going to tear it down.”
“Oh,” Jennifer said softly. She scooted closer to Carolina. “The house with the flamboyán tree.”
They were quiet a long time, long enough to notice the wind chimes and the golden ribbon, how the chair rocked slightly in place, and how it all smelled of earth and paint. Everything seemed to blend together, home and Jennifer and the cabin and Puerto Rico. The flamboyán tree in Cuba and the one in Puerto Rico were the same tree that grew inside Caro, and now, she realized with a rush, in Jennifer. The bulldozers could knock the world over, but Caro had followed the secret path, and here she was: hidden.
“Right.” Carolina straightened up, shaking off the trance. “Let’s get this place into shape.” She ticked off things that needed to be done: The floor was clean, the curtains hung. The other metal chair needed to be brought up from the garage, and both needed another coat of paint. The house paint was almost done, all but for the trim on the door and window frames. Carolina still wished for some kind of coffee table, maybe a box with a piece of fabric thrown over it, and something real to drink out of: their plastic bottles were all wrong for this elfin place.
“Once it’s done—” Caro started.
“We’ll throw a fancy ball!”
Carolina raised her eyebrow. “I can’t dance, remember?”
“Not for us, silly, for the elves. They can invite the fairies.” And Jennifer unloaded more of her figures, turning the fireplace into a tiny village. Carolina could almost hear the little statuettes talking and laughing, and yes, even dancing. She was grateful for their company.
Tía Cuca knocked on Carolina’s door. “Hey, sweetheart,” she said, letting herself in. “I’m taking Gabs to the mall for a little while. Jamie’s birthday is in two weeks and she wants a dress. Do you want to come?”
Carolina was about to reply no, but then she had an idea. “Actually,” she said, amazed at how bold her own voice sounded, “I’ve been thinking of getting something with my birthday money.”
Tía Cuca brightened. “I’m so glad! I’ll tell Gabs you’re coming! It’s been hard for her lately—she’s always had so many friends, and now this rift with Alyssa…”
Caro slipped into her sneakers. “I think Gabs is doing the right thing.”
“It’s only—well, Gabs always does the right thing—but she and Alyssa were such good friends, since they were babies practically.” She sighed. “It’ll be good for all of us to get out of the house, at least.”
They asked Mami along, and it was odd for once to be with Gabriela and Tía Cuca, where Mami wanted her to be, instead of the one on the outside, knowing Mami wanted her with them. But Mami was delighted that Caro was going; Caro thought Mami’s teeth might fall out from smiling so wide. Mami was going to stay home with Daniel and Ben, who were playing in the yard, but said Caro should go. “Can I give you some money, Caro? In case you want to buy something?”
“Oh—that’s okay, Mami. I have my birthday money, remember?”
“Right, of course.” Mami put away her wallet, and they all stood around awkwardly, except for Gabriela, who got Tía Cuca’s car keys and waved them to the door.
Tía Cuca and Gabriela were interested in clothes, clothes, clothes, which they scrutinized in the dressing room and about which they asked Carolina detailed questions. Caro never knew how to answer. Everything looked fabulous on Gabriela as far as she could tell, but she was clearly supposed to have intelligent thoughts about clothing, so she came up with halfhearted responses—“cute” and “mmm”—and tried cocking her head to the side, to make it look like she was really considering.
But when Gabriela tried on a sparkly fitted dress, Carolina didn’t have to pretend. “It’s beautiful,” she gasped.
Gabriela looked at herself in the mirror and twirled in place. She smoothed the fabric over her thighs, a smile spreading across her face.
“Gabs, that’s perfect for Jamie’s birthday party!” Tía Cuca said.
Gabriela’s face fell. “No,” she said, “it’s not.” She peeled off the dress, and Tía Cuca and Carolina exchanged confused looks.
“Didn’t you like the dress, honey?”
“It’s too low-cut.”
Tía Cuca wriggled the dress onto its hanger. “You’re thirteen, Gabs, you can wear it!”
“No,” Gabriela said firmly. “I don’t want Alyssa to think…” She got busy refolding a pair of jeans, and didn’t finish her sentence.
Tía Cuca sighed and hung the dress on the back of the door.
“Wait.” Caro took the dress off the hanger and handed it back to Tía Cuca. “You should get it for her anyway. It looked really great.”
She had realized suddenly that she did have an opinion about clothing, which was that her cousin was unbelievably gorgeous, and it was both sad and frustrating if Alyssa stood between her and this sparkly, sophisticated dress.
In the mirror’s reflection, Carolina watched Gabriela look up, and in her expressive black eyes, Carolina saw hope.
There was no art supply store in the mall. She stood in front of the directory, scanning the names of the businesses over and over again, and Gabriela stood next to her.
“What did you want to get?” Tía Cuca asked.
“Paint,” Gabriela answered for her, even though Carolina had never told her what she wanted. “Caro’s an artist.”
“I didn’t know that.”
“I just like to draw,” Carolina said quickly.
“Hmmm.” Tía Cuca studied the directory. “I don’t know where there’s an art store around here. We may have to look online.”
They wandered aimlessly. They stopped at a home goods store, and Tía Cuca bought a set of sheets. “I can’t seem to find those yellow ones I had, and I like to have three sets.” She paused. “The washer must have eaten them.”
Guiltily, Carolina realized the sheets were for her, but Tía Cuca had already bought the replacement set and was leading Gabriela and Caro through the mall again, the shopping bag swinging at her side. They were almost back at the elevator to the parking lot when Carolina stopped and pressed her nose to the storefront window of a card shop.
It was one of those stores that smelled of pumpkin-spice candles, where glitter coated the floor. And in the window was a set of two teacups, each with a dainty pattern of roses and vines. The handles were embossed with gold, and they were fit for fairies.
Carolina weighed the choices in her mind. Tea set now, or paints someday.
She’d have to convince Mami to order paints, if there was no place to buy them near Larksville.
She’d have to convince Mami that paints were important, even if you were just making do.
She’d have to convince Mami to let her use her birthday money.
“I want that tea set,” Carolina said, going into the store.
“A tea set? What for?” Tía Cuca followed her in, laughing as the door made a jingling sound to let the shopkeeper know they were there.
“It’s just a game Jennifer and I are playing,” Carolina said, hating the way playing sounded, like Run along and play or It’s only a game. Then, feeling she needed to add an explanation, she said, “The game’s about—”
“Tea with the Queen!” Tía Cuca finished for her. “I love that you still keep your imaginative games, Caro.”
“Really?” Carolina had been expecting the almost-in-middle-school lecture.
“Yes,” Tía Cuca declared lavishly. “Hang on to that as long as you can, Caro.”
Carolina handed the cashier the bills. While he counted out the change, Gabriela watched her with a knitted brow.
But Carolina ignored her. She had a tea set for the cabin and Tía Cuca’s seal of approval. Someday, Caro thought, she would make up for the sheets.
* * *
—
At camp, Carolina and Jennifer found more ways to sneak away to the cabin, and each time, the cabin became more of a home, bright and cozy. One day in late July, Yuan and Josh took both groups to visit the cows in the far pasture, and Jennifer and Carolina peeled off to the woods before anyone noticed them. They finished painting that day, and the cabin was transformed into a trim and tidy cottage. The following Tuesday afternoon, while Jennifer’s mom worked late, they hiked to the cottage and Jennifer built miniature houses for the elves out of sticks and rubber cement. Now the hearth was not just a village but a universe; Jennifer laid streams of blue pebbles and oceans of green moss. That weekend, Carolina made colors, not with oil paints but with everything she had, everything she found: the red ballpoint pen, dollar-store watercolors, a couple of broken crayons and half-dry poster paints from Jennifer’s collection.
“If you’d just ask my dad—” Jennifer protested.
But Carolina’s flamboyán bloomed without him, and page after page of trees and oceans and Ratoncito Pérezes and goldfish and saints burst into color.