That night as they lay on the large bed that came with the room, the girls were too excited to sleep. Lola outlined her plan to use the morning hours to look for work and to come back for the midday meal, do handwork during the siesta time, and take a turn on the sewing machine in the afternoon to give Enriqueta a break. They would both do handwork in the evenings to be extra quiet.
“Lola, did you know what these women did for a living when you rented the room?” asked Enriqueta.
“No. I was happy about the location, the running water, and most of all the food included in a rent we could afford. Whatever they do isn’t really our business, is it?”
“Do you know what they do?”
“No. I didn’t ask.”
“Lola. You’re such an innocent. They’re streetwalkers.”
“They walk in the streets for a living? I walked in the streets all morning and I don’t see how you can earn a living at it.”
Enriqueta giggled. “You silly goose. They entertain men for a living.” It was seconds before Lola gave a gasp of understanding.
“Oh, they can’t be what you think. They’re too nice for that. They all love the babies, and they aren’t at all evil.”
“Not everyone who does bad things is evil, Lola. I thought you’d have learned that by now. I suppose you’re right that it doesn’t matter. Besides, the food’s good, and I haven’t laughed that much in forever.”
“It’s nice to sleep in a bed again,” said Lola drowsily. “Good night.”
The girls easily arranged their routine around the rhythm of the house. They rose early while everyone else was sleeping and monopolized the bathroom doing laundry and bathing the babies. As soon as things began to stir, Lola set off to scour yet another street of the city looking for work and a more permanent place to live. She would walk up one side of the street talking to every shopkeeper, every young mother out for a walk, every old person sitting on a stoop. When she had spent a couple of hours at her task, she would cross the street and repeat her performance as she walked back. She made a rough map and drew in each street and side street as she explored it, not wanting to miss one or waste a day on a street she had already tried. She found one widow with a room to rent, but the woman had slammed the door in her face when she found out Lola had a baby.
While Lola searched for work, Enriqueta sewed and watched the babies. It was easier than they had imagined it would be because the women of the house wandered in and out of their room all day, playing with the babies and offering advice. Both girls enjoyed the company—something they had sorely missed in Uncle’s house.
They had arrived on Monday, and by Friday night they already felt comfortable. Many of the women had children who lived “back home” with other family members, and they supported their families. Enriqueta told Lola that one advantage of living in a bordello was that no one asked about fathers.
As they were talking, they heard a man shouting outside their door. “Magdalena! Magdalena! Why’re you hiding from me?” He began rattling the handle. “Magdalena, I know you’re in there. If you don’t open the door, I’ll break it down.”
Enriqueta grabbed Lola and her eyes got wide with fright. “Do something, Lola.”
Lola’s only thought was to keep the babies safe. “Quick! Hide the babies in the wicker chest.” Enriqueta was shaking with fear, but she obeyed Lola without thinking. Blanca began to cry and Estela followed suit. The man outside was making enough noise to cover any crying. He began banging on the door with his fists, still shouting for Magdalena. Enriqueta’s grip on Lola was painfully strong.
“Don’t worry. Don’t worry.” Lola chanted the words like a prayer as the door bulged under the pounding of the man’s fists, and the wood began to make splintering sounds.
“The window! We can jump out the window,” said Enriqueta. “I’ll hold Blanca so she won’t fall, and we’ll jump out the window.”
“We’re on the third floor. You’ll both be killed.” Lola grabbed her sister and pulled her toward the door. “We have to keep him out, and I need your help.”
With a final splintering sound, the lock tore out of the door frame, and Enriqueta gave an ear-splitting scream of terror.
The man who filled the doorway was so large Lola thought he might be stuck. She knew there was no way they could fight him off, but they had to try. Yelling for Enriqueta to help her, Lola launched herself at his knees and he staggered backward unsteadily. She sank her teeth into the man’s leg as Enriqueta screamed again. Doors started slamming and feet running. Blanca and Estela added their full-throated cries to the general uproar.
“Stop! Stop that right now,” a woman said in a sharp voice that assumed obedience. The man brushed Lola off like an annoying insect and moved toward the voice.
“Are you all right?” Rosita’s hair was tousled and her dress awry as she helped Lola to her feet. Lola nodded and Rosita followed her into the room. Enriqueta was standing in front of the wicker chest, shaking with fear and staring at the door.
“Is he gone?” Enriqueta asked.
“Yeah, he’s gone,” said the woman who had commanded the man to stop. “I got him downstairs, but he tore my best dress in the process.” Lola looked up at the largest woman she’d ever seen. She felt a brief sympathy for Gulliver, the hero of one of her father’s books.
“Lola, Enriqueta, this is your rescuer, Gabby Grande. Her name is really Gabriela.” Rosita made the introductions. “Oh mierda! I left a friend in my room.” She rushed out to rejoin the “friend” she had abandoned when the ruckus started.
“Thank you so much, Gabriela,” said Lola. “You have no idea how frightened we were.”
“That’s all right,” said Gabriela absently. She was examining a tear in the bodice of her bright red dress. “He grabbed me and the material just came off in his hand. I’m afraid this can’t be fixed.”
Lola looked at the damage. “It can’t be sewn up, but I can fix it. Do you have a bit of lace? It won’t take any time at all.”
“Lace?”
“Yes, like from a petticoat or something? I can use plain material, but lace would be nicer. If you don’t have any I can buy some tomorrow.”
“Ha!” La Señora appeared in the doorway. “So much for being invisible in the evening. I told you that the main condition of your temporary stay here was that you not disturb the working girls. I expect you to leave in the morning.”
Lola felt the blood drain from her face. “But Señora, we were quiet until that man started breaking down our door. Look at it.” She pointed to the door. “Now it won’t even close.”
“The jerk was blind drunk,” said Gabriela. “He thought Magdalena was seeing someone else on his night. He said he always had Friday nights with Magdalena because it was payday. Even I would’ve screamed if a big drunk broke down my locked door.”
La Señora finally allowed that the fault lay with the girl on reception duty for letting the man in when he was so drunk. “I run a respectable house here, and I will not tolerate violence.”
“Thank you, Señora, we appreciate that,” said Lola.
“We owe you a lot, Gabriela,” said Enriqueta when La Señora left. “I promise we’ll fix the dress tomorrow.”
“Thanks, but that won’t help me tonight.”
“I’m sorry. If I had material I could fix it tonight but…” Lola shrugged.
Gabriela flopped down on the bed with a dejected look on her face. “I’ve been away for a few days and my rent is due tomorrow.”
“Hey,” said Lola, “is that a black petticoat you’re wearing?”
“Yeah, but the dress is red, in case you hadn’t noticed,” Gabriela rolled her eyes. “And this black petticoat is not one I can give up.”
“Can you give up this much of it?” asked Lola holding her hands about ten inches apart.
“I suppose so,” Gabriela said doubtfully.
“If you give me that much of the petticoat, I’ll fix your dress. What have you got to lose? This d
ress is no good as it is, and I promise if you aren’t happy with the results, we’ll pay for a new one.”
“She’s right, you know,” said Enriqueta, who was quietly nursing Blanca and patting Estela on the back. “Lola’s really good with dresses.”
Finally Gabriela took off her dress and petticoat. Lola cut a deep V in the dress, removing the torn area. She cut a section of the petticoat to make a black v-shaped insert when Estela began to whimper. Lola picked her up and Enriqueta took Lola’s place fitting the insert. Working together they quickly finished the alterations. Gabriela put on the dress.
“The black V-shape makes you look quite slim,” said Lola, exaggerating a little. “And the slit in the front of the dress that lets the black petticoat show helps, too.”
Gabriela ran to the end of the hall and looked in the mirror. She ran back and hugged the girls so tight Lola thought her back would crack.
“It’s beautiful—you made it better than before. I have so much trouble with clothes. Everything I put on makes me look like a whale, but this is great. You have talent.”
“We’re glad you like it. It’s the least we could do for what you did for us tonight.”
Gabriela looked shyly at the girls. “Could you make a new dress for me if I bring you material?”
“Sure,” said Lola. She felt her heart jump with excitement and saw the same excitement in Enriqueta’s eyes. Uniforms were work, but dresses were fun and exciting—each dress was different.
Even though they moved the chest to keep the door closed, their recent experience made the girls too nervous to sleep. Instead, they took turns sewing.
The next morning Lola was tired but doggedly continued her search for work and a room to rent. After walking for hours she was looking forward to a good meal and an afternoon of sitting down and resting her feet as she sewed. She stopped to buy some food for the next morning. They were the only ones in the house who got up early enough for breakfast.
Luis’s small grocery was one of the first places Lola had asked for work. Now she looked forward to stopping in each day because it meant she was almost through walking for the day, and Luis always had a ready smile and a few encouraging words.
Lola put her purchases and coins on the counter. Not even a smile from Luis could lift her spirits today. She was bone-weary, and upset because another prospective landlord had called her names and chased her away when she mentioned the babies.
“That’s too much,” said Luis, sliding some coins back over the counter.
“You forgot the bread.” Lola didn’t even have the energy to smile.
“How do you know?” Luis frowned and looked at the scrap of paper in his hand.
“Trust me, Luis. Add it up again.” Lola upended an empty vegetable crate and sank down on it, grateful to get the weight off her aching feet.
Luis frowned and looked at the scrap of paper where he had written the prices. “You’re right. You’re pretty good with numbers.”
“I’m very good with numbers, for all the good it does. It hasn’t helped me get a job or find a place to live.”
“I’m sorry to hear that, Lola. I’ll ask around.”
“Thanks.”
As usual, Estela was hungry by the time Lola got back to the house. Concha was trying to comfort her with a piece of ripe banana wrapped in a rag, but today Estela was not interested. Lola took the fussy baby and sank wearily on the bed. When the dinner gong sounded, she told the others to go ahead. As soon as the door closed behind them, Lola gave way to the tears she had been fighting all day. It was more than she could bear.
“Lola, what’s wrong?” Enriqueta was standing in the doorway holding Blanca.
“Why aren’t you downstairs eating?”
“Because Blanca disgraced herself at the table and needs to be changed. Now tell me why you’re crying.”
“Because we’ll never find anyone to rent us a room.” Putting it in words caused a new flood of tears. When she could speak again, Lola recounted the experience of the morning. “He called me a... He called me names.”
“Then we’ll just have to be widows.” Enriqueta paused. “I know, we married brothers and they were burned to death saving their mother when our house burned down.”
“That sounds unlikely.”
“They drowned in a flood.”
“Even worse.”
“Well, what do you suggest?”
“How about yellow fever?”
“Perfect. From now on, start with ‘I’m a recent widow,’ and no one will call you awful names. Now wash your face and come down to eat.”
~ ~ ~
Sunday morning they woke up early and put the finishing touches on the last of the pile of uniforms. The house was eerily quiet. They took the stacks of uniforms and the babies down the stairs to the parlor and sat to wait for Uncle.
After a while they were startled to see a man creep down the stairs with his shoes in his hands. He paused at the door to put them on, and left without even glancing in their direction. The two girls looked at each other. Enriqueta put her hands over her eyes and then over her ears and finally over her mouth—acting out the see-no-evil-hear-no-evil-speak-no-evil pose of the three monkeys of the small statue their father had once given them. Lola put her own hands over her mouth as they tried to smother their giggles. The laughter died in their throats as the front door opened again and Uncle came in with a sour look on his face.
“Well?” he said, as though he had asked a question.
“Good morning, Uncle,” said Enriqueta, ignoring his glowering stare. “We have the uniforms here for you.”
“So you’re still sewing? I thought you’d found another profession,” he said.
Enriqueta narrowed her eyes and got white around the lips. “I’ll pretend I didn’t understand that remark. May God forgive you for your unkind and slanderous thoughts. I suggest you keep a civil tongue in your mouth in the future. Now you may inspect and count these uniforms and take them to your wagon.”
Lola looked at her sister in admiration. Enriqueta looked every inch the lady of a grand plantation. Imperious, haughty, self-confident—a host of adjectives jostled for position in Lola’s mind.
“Do you have more uniforms you wish us to sew for you?”
To Lola’s surprise, Uncle bobbed his head just like the workers in the distillery used to do when she spoke to them. He quickly counted their uniforms and took an armload out to the wagon. Lola would have offered to help, but a glance at Enriqueta’s face told her that would be a mistake. She sat on the settee with the sleeping babies, leaving Enriqueta to finish what she started.
That afternoon Gabriela came to their room with a length of bright blue satin. Lola sat and talked with Gabriela about what she had in mind, and then took the paper the material had been wrapped in and drew a couple of sketches. Lola convinced Gabriela that she should always wear V-neck styles, and Gabriela convinced Lola that buttons down the back would not be practical since she couldn’t button them herself. Enriqueta cut the dress and worked for hours on it while Lola devoted her time to uniforms. When Lola left on Monday morning to continue her search, the dress was ready for a fitting.
Gabriela came for a final fitting, and she brought a friend, Pepita, with her. Pepita asked if they would make her a dress, too. The next day she brought material and again Lola made sketches until they found a suitable style. The girls worked long and hard to finish the uniforms in a week and still fit in time to work on the dress.
The next Sunday when Uncle arrived, he was livid with anger. Wordlessly he inspected their work and counted out their money.
“I’ll get the new uniforms—and I have another little ‘gift’ for you,” he said as he took the uniforms to his wagon. To Lola’s surprise, when he came back with an armload of uniform bundles, he was followed by Concha struggling to carry another bundle. She looked dirty and bedraggled and was, if possible, even thinner than she had been when they first saw her. When she saw Enriqueta she dropped the
bundle and threw herself at Enriqueta’s feet, grabbing her around the ankles.
“Please let me stay with you. I’ll do anything. I’ll do your laundry, sew for you, cook for you, clean your house, scrub floors—anything.”
“Stop your sniveling,” growled Uncle, giving the girl an ungentle nudge with his foot. He looked at Enriqueta again.
“She’s done nothing but whine since you left. She’s useless. She tried to run away and I should’ve let her, but like a fool I went after her. She’s no good to me, and I’m not feeding her anymore. You can keep her or kick her out—I wash my hands of the baggage. Like I said, anyone can sew on a button.” He stomped out the door without a backward glance.
“Did you say cook?” asked Enriqueta, reaching down to help Concha off the floor.
“Yes. Mama taught me when she was sick. She told me what to do and I learned. I did everything for a long time because Mama had to sew whenever she could to make money for food. Uncle saw she was sick, but he’d only pay if she sewed.”
“Did you know he was going to dump you here?” Concha nodded. “Did you bring your things?”
“I don’t have any things to bring.” Tears filled her eyes and began to roll down her face. “I asked for my white dress with the lace but…” Concha began to sob. “Auntie said she sold it because I didn’t deserve anything that fine.”
“Sold it?” Lola practically squeaked. “It was my petticoat!”
“She said I wasn’t working enough to feed me, so she used the money for my food.”
“You got cheated,” said Lola.
Enriqueta scooped up both babies, leaving Lola and Concha to struggle with the heavy bundles of uniforms. “La Señora’s not going to like this,” she said as she started up the stairs.
Later that morning, with Concha scrubbed and looking as respectable as they could make her, they went to La Señora’s office to plead their case. As predicted, La Señora was not pleased.
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