Broken Paradise

by Cecilia Samartin

  “Don’t bring me nothing. If there’s one thing I’ve learned all these years, it’s that I don’t need much. Just bring yourself Norita. And the rest of your family if you like. I’ll be here.”

  28

  ALICIA WAS UNABLE TO GET OUT OF BED FOR THE NEXT FEW days. A mild storm swept in as Lucinda and I tended to her. Berta blew in and out with the gales while wearing her stretchy clothes and her hair a mass of black frizz and curls impossible to tame in the humid weather. She barely glanced at us and muttered a hasty greeting before going straight to her room.

  “She gets like this when there’s a lot of work,” Alicia said one afternoon when she appeared to be feeling stronger. “Bad weather means more work because the…clients have less to do…more time on their hands.” She shrugged and sipped the cup of tea she’d been nursing for the past hour.

  With the covers pulled away from her, I had to make an effort not to stare at her emaciated form. If she’d been skinny before, she was now a wisp of smoke, curling and fading as I looked on. We heard Lucinda in the kitchen putting away the dishes and bustling about. I knew better than to try and help her. Only one person could work comfortably in the kitchen at one time, and Lucinda was able to manage much better than I would.

  “It’s been so much better since you’ve been here.” Alicia said when she finished her tea. “Lucinda’s happier than I’ve seen her in a long time. She smiles more and she sleeps as a child should sleep, all through the night and not waking up every half hour to make sure I’m OK.”

  “She’s an amazing child.”

  Alicia nodded and looked at me, her golden-green eyes huge in her pale face. “I know you’re leaving soon, but you won’t tell me because you know I’ll be sad. You have to go home to your husband and your beautiful life. I’m happy to know your life is good, Nora. It’s almost like it’s my own life. Does that make any sense?”

  I smiled. “When we were growing up I felt like the wonderful things happening to you were happening to me. Like when we walked down the street and every man alive couldn’t take his eyes off of you. I might as well have been your shadow trailing behind, but I was happy too, as I had a taste of what it was like to feel beautiful.”

  “It’s hard to believe that was ever me.” Alicia pulled the sweater she wore over her shoulders even though it was well past eighty degrees. “I think I feel well enough to go see Beba. Lucinda would like to meet her, and I’m sure you want to say good-bye before you go.”

  “I’d love to go see Beba, but not to say good-bye. I’ve decided to stay a bit longer.”

  Alicia brightened noticeably. “Are you serious?”

  I glanced at my watch. “My plane left an hour ago, and I’m definitely not on it.”

  Alicia threw her head back and laughed out loud as I hadn’t heard her do since my arrival. “What’s there to eat? I suddenly feel hungry.”

  We made our way to Beba’s house as I held Alicia by one arm and Lucinda held my other free hand. It was only three blocks away, but it took us almost a half-hour to walk one of them. Alicia concentrated on every step she took and was clearly exhausted by the time we got to the corner. It would be so easy if she had a wheel chair, but of course that would require, at the very least, a doctor’s referral and after confirming it with Beba, I was convinced that this was an option to be avoided at all costs.

  Alicia’s breath was deep and labored and she suddenly chuckled. “I feel like I’m learning to walk all over again.”

  “Maybe this isn’t such a good idea. I can ask Beba to come over to our house instead.” I shivered in the heat at the term “our house”. Had this become my home? Wasn’t my home in Santa Monica with Jeremy? That sweet yellow house with white shutters that captured the afternoon breeze. What did a cool breeze feel like? I felt suddenly nostalgic for my uncomplicated life in California.

  I felt Alicia’s grip tighten on my arm. “It’s good for me to get out of the house,” she said. “Maybe we can just rest for a while.”

  We stopped in the shade of an abandoned building that appeared to have once been a bookstore. Inside I could see empty shelves draped with cobwebs and holding nothing but empty bottles of rum. Most likely men sneaked in to drink and gamble after curfew. Some of the bottles looked new and shiny clear next to the soot of more than two decades. The back door was open a sliver, but wide enough so an overgrown patch of yard was visible. Through an entanglement of weeds I noticed a small wheel.

  “Lucinda, wait here with your mother. I’ll be right back.”

  It was some time before I could uncover the mysterious item hiding in the weeds. It was rusty and needed a bit of adjusting, but it was exactly what I hoped it would be.

  I made my way back to the front of the building, rolling my prize before me triumphantly.

  Alicia cocked her head to one side, amused. Lucinda did the same. “What’s that funny squeaking sound?” she asked.

  “What in the world are you doing with that old wheelbarrow, Nora? You don’t think I’m getting into it do you? I’d rather walk to Tres Pinos and back on my knees than be seen in that.”

  Lucinda jumped up and down excitedly. “I’ll get in. I’ll get in,” she cried, nearly bursting with excitement.

  “Maybe later, sweetheart. Right now your Mami needs to be reasonable and let us push her in this. Isn’t that right, Mami?”

  Alicia crossed her arms and pouted. “It’s dirty.”

  “That’s true, but we can clean it up later. And look how well it works.” I rolled it back and forth. “We can go lots of places with this.”

  “People will laugh at me.”

  “Nonsense. Nobody laughs at five people hanging on to a bicycle for dear life, so why would they laugh at this. Besides, I wouldn’t mind seeing a few smiles from time to time.”

  Alicia hobbled over to the wheelbarrow, touched the rim, then felt down to the base of the barrow where she would sit. “Filthy, just filthy,” she muttered as she turned around and carefully lowered herself to sitting position. Lucinda stroked the wheelbarrow, the sides, the handles, the wheels and finally her mother’s form tucked inside like a baby chick.

  She giggled with delight. “Can I help push, Tía Nora?”

  “Of course. We can push together.”

  “Take it easy, you two. We don’t need to go very fast. It’s not like we have a train to catch.”

  The wheels caught and wobbled as we made our way down the sidewalk. It had a tendency to veer toward the right and the broken wood of the handles splintered the flesh on my palms, but it was much easier for all of us to travel this way. We passed the malecón, and the breeze rising off the ocean was surprisingly cool. Alicia dropped her head back slightly and let the wind brush through her hair. Her eyes were closed, and a serene smile was on her lips. Alicia’s tight grip on the sides of the barrow loosened, and her hand slipped down to her sides.

  “It’s a nice day isn’t it, Tía Nora?”

  “It’s a beautiful day.”

  Lucinda had stopped trying to help push after a few minutes. She slipped her little hand around my elbow and kept in step perfectly while her face pointed straight ahead like a soldier.

  When we arrived to Beba’s apartment building my hands were aching, but our spirits were shining. We parked the wheelbarrow safely within the dark narrow passage that lead to her door so no one from the street could see it.

  Beba was startled to see Alicia in her current state, but she recovered quickly and almost carried her to the couch near the window. She rattled about her sparse cupboard for some crackers and a little coffee to offer despite our protests. Of course she wouldn’t hear of not offering her guests a little something, and she was able to come up with a plate of stale crackers spread with a thin layer of strawberry jam and coffee with a little sugar, but no milk. Lucinda enjoyed them immensely and it was clear that Beba was taken with her. As Lucinda hugged her and touched her wrinkled face, Beba scooped her up and insisted she sit next to her. We talked and laughed for hours
.

  “Oh yes, I remember hearing about that boy,” Beba said with a sly smile. “I never met him myself, but Doña Regina told me about him when it all happened. They say he was one of the most handsome men around, black or white.” She chuckled and shook her head so that her once full cheeks wiggled a bit. “You,” she said pointing her finger at Alicia, “were something else. When I heard about what happened I thought to myself, now that girl is either a fool for love or just a plain fool. I don’t know which is worse.”

  “Why were people mad at Mami and Papi?” Lucinda demanded.

  “Now you have to understand, little one,” Beba said, lightly stroking Lucinda’s hair. “The world was different then. Today colored people and white people get together and get married or don’t get married, and nobody says much if they even notice, but in those days people had a lot to say.”

  Beba delighted us all, especially Lucinda, as she rocked back and forth on her little stool and laughed with her mouth so wide we could see all the spaces where her gleaming white teeth used to be. Her smile was radiant as ever and her piercing gaze just as persuasive. “It was a good life, wasn’t it?” she asked, gazing out the window and smiling past the cracked and peeling plaster. We answered her with a silent, but collective sigh.

  “Why don’t you come with us?” Lucinda asked, jumping up to the center of the room.

  “Where are you going, child?” Beba was still looking out the window.

  “We’re going to Los Estados Unidos. Just as soon as Papi gets out. We have the money all saved, don’t we, Mami?”

  Beba tore her gaze away from the window, focusing on Alicia with questioning eyes. Alicia smiled sadly at Beba and shook her head just a little. She hadn’t yet explained to Lucinda how her illness changed all the plans they’d been making.

  “Mami?” Lucinda took several steps towards Alicia. “Mami why don’t you answer me? Are you there? As she moved forward, she stumbled on the leg of a chair and fell to the ground. Alicia attempted to go to her, but Beba still spry for her age, picked Lucinda up and swiped the dust off of her knees with her arthritic hands, while she muttered that she should be careful because she was too old and tired to keep picking children off the floor. How many times she’d done the same for me as a child, I couldn’t say.

  “I wish I had straight teeth like you, so I don’t have to wear braces, Beba,” I’d tell her as she brushed my hair out in the morning and made the simple pony tail I preferred to Marta’s fancy braid.

  “Now, don’t you start complaining so early in the morning.” She’d stop brushing, and stare at me hard in the mirror. “You know what they say about complaining, don’t you?”

  “What, Beba?”

  “Complaining gives you a hard heart and soft bones. Just the opposite of how they should be.” She continued brushing my hair so hard that my head pulled back every time she took a stroke, but it felt so good, as if she was brushing all the bad thoughts out of my head. “Try gratitude instead. It’ll make you strong,” (stroke) “wise beyond your years,” (stroke) “a lover of life,” (stroke).

  Lucinda nestled herself next to Beba again. “I want you to come with us,” she said, hugging both her legs.

  “Beba’s too old to go anywhere.”

  “Don’t you want to see what it’s like? Markets full of any kind of food you want, hot water and soap every day of the week, and some people have more than three pairs of shoes.”

  “I’d sure like to see that again,” Beba said with a solemn nod of her head and a wistful grin that eased across her face. “Believe it or not, I used to have six pairs of shoes, every one of them bright white. Most of them were gifts from Doña Regina. She was a good and generous woman, God bless her.”

  “Six pairs of shoes?”

  “That’s right.”

  “Why would anybody need that many shoes?”

  Beba shook her head, lost for an answer. “Many years ago I could’ve told you, but the truth is I forgot.”

  The next morning Lucinda and I scrubbed the wheelbarrow on the inside and out until not a fleck of rust or dirt could be seen. We lined it with a blanket and two pillows and thought hard about how we might create some shade. I attempted to attach an umbrella to the wagon, but I couldn’t figure out a way to have it open without restricting the driver’s view. We finally concluded that whenever possible we’d walk in the shade.

  The problem with the wheels proved to be the trickiest part. We borrowed tools from the neighbor, Pepe, and I busied myself with trying to straighten them as Lucinda stood by. Pepe peered at us through the window as I banged at the wheels with the hammer, but my efforts resulted in very little progress.

  Before I knew it, Pepe was standing over me. He was a small thin man with skin the color of ripe olives. The nostrils of his aquiline nose flared wildly when he inhaled giving him an intense and angry appearance. Yet, his eyes glowed the color of soft amber and always appeared to be swishing with tears. He shook his head disapprovingly. “That’s not gonna work, cousin Nora.”

  “Why not?”

  “You got to take the whole thing apart and put it back together again. It’s the only way.”

  Pepe was an expert on the subject of wheels because he’d worked at a bicycle factory for many years. Now he worked one or two days a week if he was lucky, and he spent the rest of his time sitting on the stoop of his front door, watching the comings and goings around the neighborhood as he smoked his rationed cigarettes as far down as he could. The fingers of his right hand were permanently stained with nicotine.

  “I don’t know how to do that.” I rolled back from my hunched position and sat with a plop on the ground, stretching my sore legs out in front of me. I picked up the wrench and dropped it with a start. How could it get so hot in less than a minute under the sun?

  Pepe clicked his tongue and flicked his head indicating that I should get out his way. He picked up the wheelbarrow with one hand, scooped up his tools with the other, and settled down on his stoop, a spot that was significantly shadier than what I’d chosen. I took Lucinda by the hand and we hovered about as he worked.

  “It’s very nice of you to help us,” I said.

  He grunted. Pepe was not a man of many words, although when he looked at Lucinda it was the closest I’d ever seen him come to a smile.

  “Señor Pepe, Mami says you know how to fix everything. Is that true?”

  He’d already removed the wheels and was resecuring them by turning bolts with quick and dexterous hands. “I can fix most things, I guess.”

  We brought him a glass of cold water flavored with fruit powder mix that turned the water to a blood red color. He accepted it without a word and drank it down very fast, his nostrils flaring like fish gills gasping for air. He set the glass down and grunted his thanks again. After a while he stood up and stretched his lanky frame. He rolled the wheelbarrow back and forth to test it and then passed it over to me. It rolled smoothly and perfectly.

  “It’s like new. Thank you so much.”

  Pepe shrugged and his mouth flickered into the suggestion of a smile.

  That evening after our meal, Lucinda and I took Alicia out for a stroll in her new wheel chair. The sky was scattered with gold ribbon clouds and children were laughing and playing baseball in the middle of the street. Rarely did a car drive by to interrupt their game. We headed, as always, toward the ocean to catch sight of the darkening sea and the first twinkle of lights on the malecón. The fragrance of night jasmine floated about and mingled with my memories. No one had spoken for sometime and when we stopped I looked down to see if Alicia might be asleep again. But her eyes were open wide and more alive than I’d seen them in days. Smiling, she pointed up toward the curve of the malecón. The lights had begun to pierce through the mist of the encroaching evening.

  She took my hand. “I’m so happy right now.”

  “I’m glad.”

  “When you left, I worried you might forget me. I could never forget you because everywhere I turned I
saw things that reminded me of you, girls with long black pony tails and Tía’s porch, even the palm trees themselves. This view right here,” she said raising an arm as delicate as a wisp of smoke. “Is the one that reminds me of our plans to become chorus girls at the Copacabana, remember?”

  “As I recall, that was your idea.”

  “Perhaps it was, but you went along without too much argument.”

  I adjusted Alicia’s pillows so she could sit up higher. “There was no arguing with you, dear cousin. I tried a few times and I always ended up wrestling with myself while you continued on with whatever little scheme you had going at the moment.

  Alicia laughed. “I must’ve been impossible—a spoiled brat.”

  “You were amazing. Correction, you are amazing.”

  Alicia sighed and I heard the pain in her breath. “I wish Tony were here. I believe I’m ready to tell him everything now. I feel strong enough.”

  The sun had set and the lights of the malecón twinkled at full force, like a diamond necklace on the throat of the most beautiful woman in the world.

  29

  WE LEFT EARLY THE NEXT MORNING, BEFORE THE HEAT OF THE day had a chance to dig its nails into the concrete and broken earth. Alicia was so tired she bounced along in the wheelbarrow with the letter clasped firmly in her hand as though it were a ticket she had to show at any moment.

  She’d dictated it to me the night before, after Lucinda was asleep in whispered words that sometimes got lost in the whirl of the fan. It was more of a declaration than a confession. Although this was the first time Tony would learn of her work at the hotel, she expressed guilt only about not staying healthy. Her one regret was that she wouldn’t join him on his escape to freedom.

  …I respect the choices you’ve made now more than ever. I hope you can forgive me mine and remember me as I was when we first fell in love. That is how I always picture you, a handsome young man sitting in Tía Panchita’s rocking chair and giving me such a smile that I thought my heart would stop beating. What a blessing to know that the only man who makes me feel this way is also the man I call my husband, my most precious love.