The Fall of Innocence

by Jenny Torres Sanchez

  But you know why she cried that time, idiot.

  “Are you?” she asked, suddenly bumping into him playfully, then smiling and pulling him from his thoughts. There she was again, seemingly okay. “Happy, I mean?”

  He nodded and squeezed her hand. “With you? Always.”

  She took a deep breath, blew smoke signals in the cold. “So, will we get to hang out over vacation or are you working?”

  “Working,” he said, feeling a small bit of dread. “A lot, actually. I opened up my availability and now I have all these hours. I’ll basically be stacking shelves all day every day.”

  “That sucks.” Emilia frowned, seemingly genuinely disappointed. He was both saddened and touched by it.

  “I know. But I owe my parents two months of car insurance. You know my mom will hound me until I pay her back every last cent. I have a day off here and there, though, so we’ll still have some time together.”

  “Cool,” she said. She watched other students drive out of the school parking lot and said, “God, I wish I had a car.”

  “Why? You want to drive far away from here or something?”

  She shrugged. “Maybe.”

  He felt slightly betrayed but didn’t let her see it. “You could always get a job and save up for one. Fill out an application at Pathmark. You’d get a job there easy. Then I’d see you all the time.” He smiled, thinking of Emilia checking out groceries while he stocked shelves.

  “Yeah, I should. I want to. But, you know . . . my mom.” Emilia rolled her eyes.

  Ian knew Emilia’s mother didn’t like the idea of Emilia working, or having to worry about how she’d get to and from work, or Emilia having to work nights. Emilia had told him that her mother basically wanted her home, safe, as much as possible. He was about to complain about the unfairness of it and suggest maybe Emilia talk to her mom again, but then he looked at her, saw she still looked happy, and decided against it.

  “Hey, you know, I’ll try to get out of another day or two of work, call in sick or something. Okay? I mean, screw it. It’s winter break.”

  Emilia smiled and they got in the car. As they passed the elementary school, he noticed she was suddenly so quiet again.

  “You okay?”

  “Yeah,” she said quickly. They drove in silence for a while. The air felt thick, so he talked about anything he could think of.

  “Hey, know what I heard?” he said. “They’re going to bulldoze the elementary school. My mom knows somebody on the school board or something, and I guess they decided to bulldoze it. Sell the land.”

  She turned and looked at him. “Really? When?”

  Ian shrugged. “I don’t know, just heard that’s what’s going to happen to it.”

  “Wow,” she said.

  She looked stunned and he regretted it immediately. He had thought maybe she would be happy to hear it was going to be bulldozed. Or maybe she wouldn’t feel anything at all. But he hadn’t thought that she would look the way she did now.

  “Hey,” he said. “Sorry, I . . .”

  “No . . . no, it’s not a big deal. It’s just . . .” She shrugged. “It’s just . . . wow, you know?” She shook her head.

  They arrived at Emilia’s house. She was out the door before he could lean over and kiss her, and he watched as she hurried up the steps. When she reached the front door, he waited for her to turn and wave or blow him a kiss like she always did, but she just went inside.

  He imagined she turned. He imagined a kiss landed on his lips.

  And that’s when he remembered that the day Emilia went missing all those years ago was the last day of school before winter break, too. It had been a cold, bleak day, just like today.

  Ian shivered.

  The Old Elementary School

  The old elementary school was the first thing that came to Emilia’s mind the next morning, that first day of winter break.

  They’re going to bulldoze it, she thought.

  Emilia cracked open the window a few inches and put the peanuts in a row before lying back down. She listened to the soft whistle of the wind, the rustling of dead leaves as they fell to the ground and scraped along the pavement.

  So what? What do I care?

  In bed she closed her eyes. Her flock of birds appeared in her imagination, circling the sky above the school, perching in the trees outside of it.

  You were trying to get my attention when you circled over me the other morning, weren’t you? Emilia asked them.

  The white puffy trails from that morning flashed in her mind, and her birds circling in the sky, before she and Ian headed to their first class.

  What is it? What do you want to tell me?

  “I’m leaving!” Emilia’s mother called from the bottom of the stairs. “Emilia?”

  Emilia opened her eyes and stared at the bare branches outside. The sky was beginning to stay that winter white all the time now. She wondered when the sun would come out again.

  “Emilia?” Her mother was at the bedroom door now, and even in that brief moment before she saw Emilia on her bed, there was a recognizable hint of panic in Ma’s voice.

  Sometimes Emilia was sure her mother must think Jeremy Lance had escaped and climbed into her bedroom window in the middle of the night to finish her off.

  Sometimes Emilia thought this herself. And now, with eight years of anger and oppression built up, it would be worse. What would he do to her? She shivered as she tried not to think of it.

  “I’m right here,” Emilia answered, turning in bed just in time to see her mother sigh with relief.

  “Well, how about answering me at least? Is that so hard?”

  Emilia noticed the extra edge in her mother’s voice. She was agitated, more than usual, and even though she tried, Ma never hid it well.

  It’s the weather, Emilia wanted to tell her. You’re off, too, because of the cold. This is what happens to us, to you and me.

  The salt and pepper shakers flashed through Emilia’s mind. She’d noticed more little items around the house lately, and she couldn’t be sure if they’d always been around and she hadn’t noticed, or if they were new.

  Don’t worry, Ma, I won’t tell. I understand. It’s just the cold.

  “Sorry,” Emilia said to her mother. And she meant it.

  Ma shook her head, fussed with her purse. “Fine, fine. I just . . . listen, I’ll be home late. Tomás is at work but I think he only works until four, so just a little after you get home from school. You guys have dinner without me. Here’s some money. Maybe a pizza?” She set the money down on Emilia’s dresser, gave her a puzzled look. “Why aren’t you ready?”

  “No school,” Emilia said, and smiled.

  “Oh . . .” Ma shook her head. “Crap, I completely forgot.” A bird swooped onto the ledge and picked up a peanut in its mouth. It watched Emilia and Ma.

  “I really wish you would stop feeding those damn birds,” Ma said. “They carry diseases, you know.”

  Emilia looked at her mother. She had closed her eyes and was rubbing her head.

  “Ma, relax, I’m home alone all the time.”

  “I know, I know. It’s just that . . .”

  “I’ll probably just stay in my pajamas and watch TV,” she said, hoping to ease her mother’s worry. But Emilia saw the lines deepen on Ma’s face.

  “Why don’t you come with me?” Ma said finally. “We’ll be in the city together. We can go somewhere new for lunch? Come on, get ready. It’ll be fun.”

  Emilia saw the hopeful look on her mother’s face, but Ma had made her tag along before, and it was never actually fun. The appointments were always back-to-back and there was never time to do anything.

  “Ma,” Emilia groaned. “You know I just complain and you get stressed out and annoyed. Besides, I’m not a little kid. I’ll be fine.”

  �
��I do not get annoyed. And I’m not treating you like a little kid.”

  “So then what’s the big deal if I stay home? It’s not like I’m going to go to work with you every day of vacation.”

  Her mother looked at her watch. “I don’t understand why you can’t just come with me,” she said. “If you get ready in five minutes, we can still make the train.”

  “I don’t want to go.”

  Her mother stood there like Emilia was being extra difficult.

  “I don’t understand. Why is this even an issue?” Emilia said.

  Her mom was silent, then looked away and shook her head.

  “Fine, Emilia.”

  But she said it in a way that really meant it wasn’t fine. She pulled her keys out of her purse and sighed.

  “And I don’t want you watching television all day, got it?” she said, giving Emilia a funny look. “You can’t just sit around watching that . . . crap.”

  Emilia stared at her mother.

  “Understand?” her mother demanded.

  Emilia nodded. “Fine, Ma . . .”

  Moments later, Emilia heard the opening and slamming of the front door. She got up and looked out the window as Ma drove away. Then sat back down on her bed.

  What the hell was that all about? she thought.

  Why did Ma think she was so incapable of taking care of herself?

  You know why.

  But I’m older now, stronger.

  Hadn’t she survived the worst already? Emilia listened to the silence in her house now that everyone was gone.

  Nothing’s going to happen to me.

  She tried to believe this.

  But after arguing with her mother, the house felt so quiet. Almost eerie. And for a second, Emilia wished she’d gone with Ma.

  Don’t be such a fucking baby!

  Only now she didn’t know what to do with herself. It seemed like everyone had something to do. Everyone always had something to do, except her. And now she sat up here in her room like some girl in a tower, waiting to be saved. Waiting to throw down her hair and be rescued.

  I’m not that girl, Emilia thought.

  She looked in the direction of Ian’s house and saw his car in the driveway. She wondered what time he started his shift at work.

  See, there you go. This is why Ma wanted to take you with her, she thought. I mean, you could actually do something by yourself, Emilia. Stop being so helpless.

  Why did she feel like this when she was alone? Why couldn’t she be just a little more at ease by herself?

  She knew why but didn’t want to think about it, so she thought instead about what she could do today. Go to the library. Or pick up a sandwich at Carro’s, maybe.

  She reached in her drawer for more peanuts and waited for more birds to show up. Finally, another one swooped in and landed on the ledge.

  “You think I’m exciting, don’t you?” She smiled at the crow, knowing it wouldn’t be long before more came. “Go on, tell them it’s breakfast time,” she said. She watched him fly away, a nut in his beak.

  Geez, Emilia, you’re so exciting, she thought. Feeding birds. Is this what you’re going to do all winter break?

  No, she would do something. She didn’t know what just yet, but she knew she had to do something. Anything.

  Emilia shut the window and rolled out of bed. She got ready, and when she stepped outside an hour later, even the drop in temperature from yesterday did not stop her. She shivered, but closed the door behind her and trudged into the cold day.

  Emilia Searched

  Emilia searched the sidewalk for the little gifts her birds often left for her, trying not to think of how strange her mother had just acted. She came across the little gifts all the time—curiously tiny pencils, forgotten fallen beads, red-and-white twine from bakery boxes, so many extra smooth or unique pebbles, lovely leaves still intact, and so many lost mates of earrings. How many of these she’d collected in her room over the years. It was how her birds said they were thinking of her. They hadn’t forgotten that day when they watched from the treetops and saw what happened to her in the woods near the playground.

  Maybe the search would lead her to something. A strange thrill filled her as she walked and played this game. Something, something, something. She was looking for something. The word filled her mind. She wanted to do something. Something was going to happen.

  Up ahead she saw the flag flying over the old elementary school.

  They’re going to bulldoze it.

  And suddenly she knew.

  Ma doesn’t think you’re strong. Nobody thinks you’re strong. Here’s your chance to prove them wrong.

  Emilia looked up and noticed a single black bird flying in the direction of the school. She looked at the flag again.

  She’d assured her mother that morning that she’d be fine. And she would be. She knew exactly what she was doing.

  You can’t go around scared just because it’s cold, Emilia.

  She told herself this as she walked toward the school. Her pace slowed the closer she got, but she kept telling herself, Just go.

  As she approached the building with its peaked roof and red brick, her heart beat faster and seemed to slide upward into her throat. But she made herself walk up to the doors anyway.

  Don’t be afraid. You can do this.

  But Emilia couldn’t help it. Her eyes wandered over to the house on the corner, the spot where she’d picked up that bracelet so long ago. She still remembered so clearly when she’d looked up to see Jeremy Lance looking right back at her, trying to get her attention.

  * * *

  *

  That day, Emilia had turned her head away, looked at the aide on the bus, hoping the woman would notice Jeremy Lance banging on the window like that. But she was helping other kids buckle up. So the banging got louder, and he hit the window harder with his fist.

  Bam! Look. Bam! At. Bam! Me.

  Bam! Look. Bam! At. Bam! Me.

  That’s what Emilia heard in those thumps. But she wouldn’t look at him.

  Bam! Look. Bam! At. Bam! Me.

  Harder.

  And harder.

  Emilia should have walked away, or run to her classroom, but she felt stuck to the sidewalk. She kept her eyes on the aide, who was still buckling in children. How could it take her so long? And then she couldn’t resist. The thumping grew even louder. Slowly, she looked back at Jeremy.

  He was trying to get her attention. Emilia was sure of it.

  He had looked desperate, out of control. His distorted face yelling in anger as he kept hitting the window so hard and wouldn’t stop. And then—crack!—his hand came crashing through the sharp plastic. The broken window slashed into his arm and suddenly there was so much blood. The plastic was smeared with blood and his screams filled the air. The bus driver and the aide ran to him, but it looked like not even they knew what to do.

  On and on Jeremy screamed.

  And on he bled. Looking at Emilia as her brother came running back to her, how she stood there, crying.

  Don’t be afraid, Tomás said, hugging her hard as she covered her ears and shut her eyes tight. But still she saw Jeremy’s face and heard his screams.

  * * *

  *

  Don’t be afraid, Emilia told herself now, and let out a breath as she turned back to the two large school doors in front of her. She wrapped her hands around the ice-cold metal handles and pulled hard.

  Locked. Neither door budged.

  She stood there, relieved. She couldn’t get in. That was it.

  You tried, she told herself.

  She stepped back and looked up at the school.

  Why do you even want to go inside, anyway?

  Because.

  Because everyone has always treated you like you couldn’t.

 
But look, here you are. And you can’t, Emilia thought.

  This sent a ripple of anger through her body. Anger she hadn’t known existed, that had come from some deep part of herself she’d forgotten and now filled her eyes with tears. She looked at the school again.

  Why should she have to stand out here in the cold when she wanted to go in, take a look around, return to the place so many people thought she was too weak to return to?

  I don’t need to be protected from this place. Or anything. I lived through the worst, didn’t I?

  She stared at the doors that refused to let her in. That shut her out. Soon this place would be gone, bulldozed, as if it never existed. And she would lose her chance.

  Why did Ma take me out of school, anyway? she wondered as she pulled at the doors again. She would get in; she would find a way to get in that school now. Emilia’s determination made her forget how the past really happened, how she didn’t talk for so long afterward, how it took her so long to recover. Right now all she could think was how her sudden withdrawal had only drawn more attention to everything. And how when she was out with Ma sometimes, she’d suddenly feel someone looking at her. And each time she looked up, it was a kid her age staring at her like she was a yeti. She knew that the next day, the kids at school would be whispering about her.

  Guess who I saw? Emilia DeJesus.

  I thought she was dead.

  No, no, she’s alive. But I heard she hardly ever comes out of her room, much less her house.

  Oh, I heard they had to put her in one of those institutions.

  In two years, Emilia’s absence made the kids come up with their own stories of what had happened to her. How she became a bird, a crazy bird, kept in a cage. And when Ma couldn’t homeschool her anymore because Dad left and she had to work full-time, Emilia had to go to middle school, where everyone stared and stared at her for that whole first year.

  She should have just come back to this stupid school right after it happened. She pictured herself walking into her old classroom that next day.

  Look, I lived! she would have told them.