I Lived on Butterfly Hill
Page 27
“Good morning, dear!” Ever prim and proper, she somehow manages to shout in a demure voice. “Slow down and enjoy how October has arrived all dressed up in yellow!” She is right. The mimosas spread their petals into golden crowns, and as I jump aboard the Cerro Barón cable car, I breathe in their aroma mixed with the salt of the sea.
I sit and catch my breath. “How is it March already?!” Almost an entire month has passed since my surprise party. My life has settled into a routine and would be rather normal if it weren’t for my imagination and all the colors and sounds of Butterfly Hill.
Of course, I have school during the day and homework that gets more and more demanding at night. Señor Castellanos grades my literature papers especially hard because he says I am a writer in the making, and as my teacher he has a responsibility to my readers.
My time after school is filled with long chats with Cristóbal at Café Iris and walks through the market with Marisol. Occasionally the three of us still play on the swings, or in the rain, or even both.
There is still no word about Lucila and her parents. Marisol talks about her cousin less and less. I tried to write about Lucila once, but I felt too afraid of what words might appear on the page. Maybe someday. Or maybe someday she will come back and help me with the traveling library! I like to imagine her teaching with me, with all of her kindness and patience.
Once in a while I run into Gloria. We always hug each other, and then we go our separate ways.
I am making new friends too—sophomores, juniors, even some seniors!—all students from the Juana Ross High School who volunteered to help organize the traveling library. Presidente Espinoza also had my second letter published in all the newspapers, and I have begun to receive book donations from all over Chile. Last week a chemist in Santiago sent me an entire set of encyclopedias!
And now it is night. Another night in my house on Butterfly Hill. The lights from the harbor shine around the city like a halo. “Buenas noches, Nana Delfina.” I close the door of the little room filled with cinnamon smoke that wafts into the hallway from below the door. I know the light below the door glows into the wee hours of the night—slowly, patiently, Delfina is reading Pablo Neruda.
Every night when I’m supposed to be asleep, I write in my notebook and practice using the typewriter that our neighbors on Butterfly Hill gave me at my surprise party. At first I was using only two fingers, one from each hand. But now I am up to three, and Papá promises that if I keep typing away, I soon will make it to five. The first letter I typed out, I sent to Kim and Tom. I still don’t know where they are, so I typed it out two times—in English!—and put two envelopes in the mailbox. One addressed to Kim and Tom Ahn, North Korea. And the other addressed in care of Mr. John Carter, postman, Juliette Cove, Maine. If they ever receive my letter, this is what they will read:
Dear Kim and Tom,
It has been so long, but I haven’t forgotten you. Neither have I forgotten my promise to send you something I have written. So I have included a poem along with this letter. The poem is called “The Ship Called Hope.” I wrote it one night as I sat on my roof and looked at the stars, when I remembered asking my Abuela Frida if she was a refugee. I was five years old and didn’t know what the word meant. And her eyes became very big as if they were filled with seawater and she looked at me for a long time. Then she said, “Yes, I am a refugee. And it is a beautiful word, a beautiful thing. I am an exile. That means I am a traveler of the world, and I belong to nothing but the things I love.”
We haven’t seen each other since that day long ago when we lay in the grass on Juliette Cove, but I still hope to see you soon. Until then, may you both belong to the things you love. And I will belong to the things I love too.
Your forever friend,
Celeste Marconi
Marjorie Agosín was raised in Chile by Jewish parents. Her family moved to the United States to escape the horrors of the Pinochet takeover of their country. Because she comes from a South American country and is Jewish, Agosín’s writings demonstrate a unique blending of these cultures. She has received the Letras de Oro Prize for her poetry, presented by Spain’s ministry of culture to writers of Hispanic heritage living in the United States. Her writings about, and humanitarian work for, women in Chile have been the focus of feature articles in the NEW YORK TIMES, the CHRISTIAN SCIENCE MONITOR, and MS. magazine. She has also won the Latino Literature Prize for her poetry and is a professor of Spanish at Wellesley College. She lives in Massachusetts.
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ATHENEUM BOOKS FOR YOUNG READERS • An imprint of Simon & Schuster Children’s Publishing Division • 1230 Avenue of the Americas, New York, New York 10020 • www.SimonandSchuster.com • This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real places are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and events are products of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or places or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. • Text copyright © 2014 by Marjorie Agosín • Illustrations copyright © 2014 by Lee White • All rights reserved, including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. • ATHENEUM BOOKS FOR YOUNG READERS is a registered trademark of Simon & Schuster, Inc. • Atheneum logo is a trademark of Simon & Schuster, Inc. • The Simon & Schuster Speakers Bureau can bring authors to your live event. For more information or to book an event, contact the Simon & Schuster Speakers Bureau at 1-866-248-3049 or visit our website at www.simonspeakers.com. • Book design by Sonia Chaghatzbanian and Irene Metaxatos • Jacket design by Sonia Chaghatzbanian • Jacket illustration copyright © 2014 by Lee White • The text for this book is set in ITC Souvenir. • The illustrations for this book are rendered in in watercolor, ink, digital. • CIP data for this book is available from the Library of Congress. • ISBN 978-1-4169-5344-9 • ISBN 978-1-4424-9476-3 (eBook)