The Feria

by Bade, Julia

  Dinner was quiet. She, her father, and her aunt sat by candlelight, which was present throughout the house, illuminating paintings and family portraits creating a morphed look. The atmosphere set the mood for tranquility. Soledad was feeling nervous about the impending departure and night traveling.

  “You stay close to my side, do you hear me?”

  “Yes,Papá,” her voice was low, like a bashful child.

  “Don’t look anyone in the eyes, and don’t speak. Keep your hands free at all times.”

  Her father was going down the list of precautions and procedures. She couldn’t imagine what day traveling would be like if her father thought night traveling was safer, yet it came with several fearful uncertainties. But she didn’t argue.

  As they left the home, Soledad kissed her tía. The tears came freely. She felt her tía’s quiet tears fall onto her cheek. While Soledad was set to return in a few months to attend Stanford, for whatever reason, it was like they both felt they wouldn’t see each other again. It was a different kind of goodbye.

  “You be a good, smart girl, Cholita. Do you hear me?”

  “Yes, I will, Tía. I promise.”

  “Write to me.”

  “Every day.”

  At the train station, after receiving a blessing from the priest, she and her father boarded, and she watched until the priest disappeared. He was a kind man, a dear friend of her father’s and knowing Soledad’s stress, he had come to offer peace.

  The stunning and simplified train was called The Midnight Dazzle. The porter led them to their sleeper car. Soledad noted that he was black, but as her father ordered, she quickly averted her gaze to the ground. The porter wished them a goodnight, and Soledad climbed into the full-sized bed. She was breathing heavy from a mixture of sadness and anxiety. The last thing she remembered before accidentally falling asleep was her father taking a pillow and top blanket off the bed and stationing himself in a sitting position against the entry door to the sleeper car. It disturbed her greatly, but she could no longer fight to stay awake. It only seemed like minutes before she heard her father.

  “Cholita, it’s time to get up.” He gently shook her shoulder. He was a big man, yet his touch was tender.

  Soledad’s eyes flickered at the light that beckoned them to open. Her father didn’t turn back to see if she was up. He was already preparing for their exit. She knew where they were and the fears that inhibited her the night before were now gone. She was safe; she was home. They stepped off the train, and there she was. Her mother was beautiful, ageless. She had on a black dress that reached the ground. It was hot for black, but her mother made it look cool and natural. She ran into her mother’s embrace.

  “Mi linda.”

  “Mamá!” The smell of her mother’s long black curls covered her.

  “I never rest until you are with me.”

  “I know, Mamá.”

  The car ride seemed shorter than usual as she and her mother forced two months of updates into a twenty-minute drive.

  Abuelita was well, her best friend, Suki, had moved in with her, Soledad’s brothers were still getting into trouble, Tía was well in California, father was stressed as usual, the trees were producing in abundance, Adelita, the maid, had finally had her baby, and the feria was in town across the border, something Soledad already knew.

  The first thing Soledad could see as they turned onto San Diego Avenue were the beautiful blue shutters that decorated her home. It was always her sign of peace no matter where she was coming from. As they drove up the steep driveway, she already had her hand on the door handle.

  “Calmada,” her father scolded.

  For as much as she adored California, it could not replace the love for her home. The three wide steps leading to a wrap-around porch and into the house were named El Padre, El Hijo, y El Espiritu Santo, blessings she’d claimed over her home since she was a child whenever she entered or left.

  “Gracias, Dios,” she mouthed as she stood on the porch, stopping to smell the blossoms from the cherry tree whose branches hung overhead. There were stains on the porch floor from fallen cherries that had been walked on and smashed intentionally, probably by her brothers, before her mother could rescue them.

  “The temperatures have been pretty ferocious,” Señora Gonzalez noted. “Cholita, you would have enjoyed the river in this weather.”

  “Well, I didn’t have a river, but I did have an ocean,” she said with a laugh. “Plus, I still have plenty of time.”

  As they entered the house, Soledad stood in the center of the kitchen looking to her left and saw that her grandmother’s rocking chair was in the front room. She gasped. “Is my abuela here?” Her voice carried excitement.

  “No, but we are going to the feria in Juárez tonight, and we’ll stay the night with her. We can all come back here in the morning. She is anxious to be with you.”

  While Soledad was exhausted, she would never resist her grandmother’s home, and she could never resist a night at the feria.

  Chapter 3

  Finally at peace with the arrival of her husband and daughter,

  Señora Flor Gonzalez walked down the hall and into her bedroom where her husband was already lying down.

  “Tough trip?”

  “Tough everything.” His reply was heavy with stress.

  “What’s the matter, mi amor?”

  “So many things, I cannot even begin to tell you.”

  “That’s what I’m here for.”

  “I don’t want to worry you, my Flor.”

  “Definitely too late. I could sense you were troubled since the train station. Why haven’t you told me sooner?”

  He sat up. “Because I am supposed to take care of everything, but everything seems to be failing me. This war has failed me, my trees are failing me, my body, failing me.”

  “Your trees? What’s going on?”

  “Next year’s harvest is already in jeopardy, and this year’s sales were exaggerated ... by me.”

  “How do you already know what next harvest will bring?”

  “Because I know my cherry trees, Flor. It’s been my life since I was a boy. I can look at a tree and tell when it’s sick, when it has disease, when it will fail.”

  “Was it the weather, what?”

  “Jaime, my best man, knowing the financial strain we are feeling because of this damn war ...”

  “What?” Flor felt her voice an octave higher with suspense.

  “He thought we could save on labor if he brought in temporary younger workers and paid them less. He was to teach them everything about harvesting. If I could just go back in time.”

  Her heart skipped a beat. There was no hope in wishing for do-overs. If her husband was regretting his actions of the past, she knew very well it was time to be afraid. She swallowed hard to steady herself before speaking, hoping to convey calmness for her husband’s sake. “Well, what did these workers do?”

  “They didn’t have the technique. They doomed us. They did everything exactly right to harm next year’s crop and exposed several trees to infection this off season.”

  “You’re sure, Eduardo?”

  He could hear the panic growing in his sweet wife’s voice. “I’m sure, Flor. I told you I didn’t want to worry you.”

  “Go on.”

  “The economy is stagnant. Sales were down as well, but we’ve made enough to sustain us for now.”

  “And when it all catches up to us at next harvest? What then?”

  “Flor, all of these things have run miles in my mind, every day and every night as I tried to sleep.”

  “I can see how tired you must be.” She had immediately noted an aged and exhausted man the minute she’d seen him at the station.

  “I’ve got plans. You ha
ve to trust me. But I must warn you,” he hesitated as she met his gaze, “You are not going to agree with what I’m about to tell you.”

  Flor was fearful. She knew she had to trust her husband, but he knew her well, and if he warned her that she would not like what he was to say, he was probably correct. “Dios Mio,” she whispered. “How bad can it be?”

  “I have been speaking long distance to a man named Emmanuel Nevarez.”

  “Yes, I know of him, the banker.” She suddenly felt relieved, believing that communication with a man in charge of vast amounts of money could be something good for their livelihood.

  “Flor, I’m not going to go into a long story, or delay the most important point. I am a farmer, and farmers need loans to survive in this devastated economy. Our trees have been damaged. We need to think about our future. If I don’t do this, we will be in great trouble this time next year. Do you understand what I’m telling you?”

  “Si.” Again she whispered, daring to glimpse into such a bleak future and trying to protect her children even in her prophetic imaginings.

  “Emmanuel is looking for a wife.”

  Immediately Flor understood. “Eduardo! Por favor, NO!” Her tears did not wait. They rolled down her face before she could even catch her breath to begin sobbing. She had been standing over him this entire time but suddenly felt herself go faint. She slowly sat down at his feet.

  “Flor, it’s the only way. Aside from giving me a loan, he owns a life insurance company that will also lend me additional money to put a long-term investment into our crop. He has friends in local businesses that will carry us on their books until our crops come in from the new trees.” Seeing her devastation, he moved over to her and held her. “Please trust me, mi amor. I tried every avenue twice and failed before I came to this conclusion. Our precious Soledad has provided a saving grace to our family.”

  “She would stop at nothing to help her family,” Flor sobbed.

  “Even giving herself away. What if they don’t have what we have? What if my daughter never gets to truly love? How can we forgive ourselves for robbing her of that?”

  “How can we forgive ourselves for not protecting our family and keeping ourselves fed and alive? We must encourage her about this. Emmanuel will be at the feria tonight. I will introduce them briefly, and we will slowly ease into this plan. Not a word, Flor. Promise me.”

  “I promise.” With those two words, Flor felt every bit of betrayal to her daughter.

  “We don’t have very much time, but just enough to soften her to this, and she doesn’t have a choice, Flor. Do you understand what I’m telling you? It’s done.”

  “Si.” The conversation was over. She accepted her daughter’s doom and spread herself out over their bed, arms first as though she were beginning a swim. She sobbed as quietly as her body would allow.

  “Mamá?”

  She could hear Soledad approaching from down the hall. Flor wiped the tears from her cheeks. Soledad could not see her like this. Immediately Flor dropped off the bed and onto her knees as if in prayer. Soledad would never interrupt her now. She could hear Soledad’s footsteps stop at her doorway. Be still. She tried to control her shaking body. Eduardo lay unmoving on the bed, perhaps pretending to sleep, she, pretending to pray. Already the lying to their precious daughter had begun. Now she really did pray.

  “Dios, perdoname.”

  She heard her daughter walk away quietly so not to disturb them.

  Chapter 4

  The lights of the feria were beacons of familiarity and excitement. Soledad’s younger twin brothers play-fought with each other as they approached, but that was the only noise in the car. Soledad noted that both her parents appeared solemn. She didn’t read too much into it. If she was feeling exhausted from their travels, how much more exhausted would her father be? And her mother usually followed his moods, so really, it made absolute sense. The only thing she questioned was if they were so off tonight, why did they choose to attend the feria instead of resting? After all, it would be here for an entire week. Her brothers quickly got out of hand and her father shouted, “Calmados!”

  Instant silence followed. Everybody held their breath and waited for their father to mentally release them.

  “All right now, let’s all calm down and have a good time, okay?” He gave them an uneasy smile, but they accepted it.

  Relief flooded Soledad as they prepared to exit their car. Eduardo gave instructions to the driver to pick them up tomorrow from his mother-in-law’s house. They would walk the short distance to her home later tonight. Soledad couldn’t wait to spend time at the feria, but she also couldn’t wait to be with her grandmother. She hoped this night would be bitter sweetly short. Her abuelita’s bed beckoned her already. It was nice being the only girl. Had the twins been girls, they’d have to fight over who would be the lucky one to sleep in Abuela’s bed with her. But Soledad had this one won.

  The line to enter the feria had about twelve people waiting. One family alone had six children. Once, when Soledad was a little girl and refused to eat her dinner, Father told her she was very lucky to have food at her disposal, and that in a large family, the first ones to the dinner table would eat, and whoever didn’t get food would have to try again at breakfast. She always remembered that and stared now, wondering who in that family were the hungry ones. This night out for them must be a sacrifice. The youngest of the girls had holes in her shoes, while the older girl had shoes that were worn, but still intact, no holes, but Soledad was sure that by the time the younger one got those shoes, there’d be holes in those, too. The four boys were a mess and looked nothing like her well-groomed brothers. Although her brothers were often dirty from horseplay, they’d never be allowed to go to an outing that way.

  She’d decided to stop judging them and focus on her own family when they were suddenly beckoned to the front of the line and to a side entrance by a man in a suit. Soledad wondered who on earth would wear a suit to the feria. She was holding hands with her mother when suddenly her mother squeezed her hand. She looked up at her.

  “Estas bien, Mamá?”

  “Yes, Cholita. I’m fine.” Her mother gave her a strange smile that made Soledad feel uneasy. Something wasn’t right.

  “Buenas Noches, Señor.” Her father grabbed this man’s hand with great happiness.

  Was he a relative or good family friend she hadn’t met?

  As the men chatted briefly, Soledad noted the older man’s dark dingy suit and dress shoes already covered in dust from the ground, and a tie that appeared too short over his slightly bulging belly. Even so, he was not horrible to look at, and even appeared a bit intelligent with his eyeglasses. She wished she needed eyeglasses because she wanted the popular cat-eye glasses. Her friend Rose Marie’s father was an eye doctor, and although she had perfect vision, he made a pair for her with no strength, only glass. She looked lovely. This stranger’s glasses were wire, only framing the top half of the lenses, with what looked like hooks wrapped around his ears.

  The men chatted away and shook hands again fiercely when Soledad heard her father say, “Let me introduce you to my family.”

  Following her mother’s lead, she and her now eagerly rowdy brothers approached the stranger.

  “Sir, this is my wife, Flor, our twin sons, Ernesto and Adan, and my lovely daughter, Soledad.” Her father wrapped his arm around her and brought her closer to him. She swallowed, uncomfortable in front of this stranger and his eager stare. The glasses she was only recently admiring now disgusted her as they framed his face and magnified his eyes.

  The man seemed to not care for any of the others, except for her, and she instantly felt uncomfortable.

  Cochino! She wanted to scream.

  “Buenas noches, Señorita.” He reached for her hand.

  Had she known he was not going to shake it, she
would have never extended her arm. She watched in horror as he raised her hand to his lips. This stranger’s mouth lingered, his whiskers pressing tiny pricks on the back of her hand. Feeling heat rush to her face, she glanced up for her father’s angry reaction, but it never came. She was floored that he would stand by and watch this inappropriate action. Her mother appeared just as appalled as she was, but never made a peep. Her brothers, of course, laughed.

  As if trying to change the mood, the stranger dropped her hand and said, “Let’s go in, shall we?”

  Begging her legs to move, Soledad slowly followed the processional into the feria. The magic of the night was gone for her. The lights, the food, the games, the music, was all for not. She felt violated to an extent. She hadn’t even kissed a boy and now some strange man had taken his pleasure in putting his mouth on her hand and swallowing her with his eyes. She would never forgive him for stealing something from her. What that was, she wasn’t even sure. Nevertheless, she had no idea he would be taking so much more.

  Chapter 5

  Soledad slipped away from her family at her mother’s protest. Sauntering off with a halfhearted promise to be safe, she found a hiding place at some corralled ponies. She dug in her heels and promised to sit out the night until they were ready to leave. She hunkered down at the complete opposite side of the entrance where children entered to ride the ponies, with her back to the corral facing dark, openness, nothing ... it was exactly as she felt. After her eyes adjusted to the dark ocean before her, she could see the black outline of tall trees.

  “Why so devastated, dear, beautiful girl?”

  She felt anger surge into her chest, up through her throat, and into her face. Who would dare find her in this secluded place and talk to her at this particular moment in her life?

  She used every last ounce of energy to suppress the anger she was about to spew onto the stranger she hadn’t even so much as glanced at. She began to slowly turn her head in his direction when she heard him begin to walk away.