by Oscar Lewis
“Yes, I’ll take your children but I’ll see that you go to jail first!” I shouted back. “And you know now that I do what I say.”
I began to take the children to my room at Juanita’s house for four or five days at a time. How I wanted to keep them with me always! I felt they were truly mine. I wished I had a home of my own where they could run and play freely, where they would hear only loving words and would live the way children should. Slowly my wish became a need to do this for them.
Meanwhile, we heard from Marta in Acapulco. She was expecting her fourth child—and I didn’t even have one! My papá went to see her and returned saying she lived in a place unfit for animals. Who knows whether he wasn’t exaggerating. But frankly, I didn’t want to hear about my sister. I was much more interested in finding a home for me and the children, yes, and for my brother Roberto.
Roberto had a woman now, his wife, Antonia. He had no house, no job, no clothes, but yes, he had a woman! They were like two little children, sleeping through life. He kept the poor thing, first at my aunt’s, and then in the Casa Grande. But my papá was angry with Roberto for having hit Delila and one day he chased my brother out. “You cannot stay here!” he said. “You have mud on you and yet you expect to be given a prize!”
We were all embarrassed and angry because he said this in the presence of Antonia, who began to cry. Without a word to my father, Roberto said, “Grab your blanket, old girl, and let’s go.”
I begged my father to let them stay until they found another place. Thank God, he agreed. My poor brother began to think of setting up a room of his own, although he still had no job. Partly because of him and partly because I, too, wanted a home of my own, I proposed that we share an apartment together. I couldn’t do it alone, but with their help … I had learned to live on a budget and knew the value of money. Every two weeks, on payday, I set aside half the rent, paid ten or fifteen pesos on the money I had borrowed to buy clothes, put aside twenty pesos for bus fares and snacks, and laid up a week’s supply of food. If I had anything left, I would get little things, very insignificant things, for my aunt or for the children. More often, I was short of money before payday and had to go without one or two meals.
I had to convince Roberto that it would be a good thing to live together. “Man! It will be a help to you. I know someone who can get you a job on the railroad or on a Coca-Cola truck and then you can pay half the rent and expense money. Antonia can cook and clean for us and will be happy all day in her own house.” He finally agreed and we found a little two-room apartment with a kitchen and a bathroom, in a modest building not far from the Casa Grande.
I was enchanted with it; Roberto and Antonia thought it was a palace! It had windows through which the sun poured all day, a wood-burning water heater in the bathroom, running water, and tiled floors. The rooms were tiny even without furniture, but so much the better, since we had none. The rent was 240 pesos a month. We left eighty-five pesos as a deposit and went to look for a cosigner for the contract. My father flatly refused. Antonia and Roberto knew no one who would be accepted, and I finally had to ask the supervisor of my office to do it. I sent Antonia back two or three times to leave more money as a deposit and to be certain the landlady would hold it for us. Roberto became annoyed at all the delays and fuss. “So much bother for a damned apartment,” he kept saying. He had no idea what it meant to have a home and to pay rent and I think he lost interest, or became frightened. Anyway, he told me he didn’t want it any more and I could keep it for myself. I tried to get my deposit back but couldn’t, so there I was, stuck with it.
When I moved my things over in a taxi, all I had were my clothes, a radio and an ironing board. I had warned Manuel that if he didn’t give me the rest of the money for the beds, for a down payment on a new one, I would take back my little bed. He paid no attention to me, and the day I moved, I went to the Casa Grande and took my bed, leaving them the mattress. Naturally, he and María were angry, but how could I sleep on the floor? Later, Manuel was heartless enough to take the big bed for himself and put the children on the floor, where they had no protection from the rats. I counted nine large holes in the flooring, and my brother did nothing to close them up! He bought a good mattress for the bed, and let the children sleep on a straw petate!
Well, I fought him on that because I had told him when I sold it to him that the big bed was for the children. He said he had paid for it and could do what he pleased with it. He refused to speak to me even when I chased after him in the street. That decided it! I went straight to the Casa Grande, left the money with María, and took away the bed in a taxi. Roberto wanted me to give it to him, but chihuahua! after all the things he had done to me I wouldn’t give it unless he paid for it. I finally sold it to a neighbor for one hundred pesos.
I had been well off in Juanita’s house and gave up many comforts when I changed. I didn’t have enough money to have the electricity connected, so I used candles the first month. No wardrobe for my clothing, no stove, no way to iron. It took one hour to get to work and I had no time for breakfast. I had to use my food money for other things and for days I ate only coffee and bread. Luckily for me, at ten-thirty every morning, all the girls in my office chipped in to buy candy and cookies and soft drinks.
I worked extra hours to earn money to fix up the house, but Christmas came around and I still had no furniture. One evening, I went to pay Juanita some money I owed her and I confided my troubles to her. I told her I wanted money to be able to bring my nieces and nephews into my home, once and for all, but it would take forever to save enough from what I earned. “I shall have to borrow money at interest.”
“Ay, Consuelo, what a shame! Why don’t you try out in the ‘Amateur Hour’ on television? You can sing! You can dance! If you win, you will have a pile of money, and contracts for jobs as well!”
All I could think of was, “I must have money. I must have money.” I wasn’t looking well. I had lost weight and was pale. Every few weeks I had a cold or bronchitis or stomach trouble. But the thought of winning money gave me strength, and one day I went to the offices of the televicentro. I passed the test for singers and dancers and was accepted for the final tryouts. One of the judges thought I was better “material” for dancing than for singing, and instead of putting me on the “Amateur Hour,” they gave me a scholarship to study dancing at the School of Fine Arts! They would pay all the expenses and after six months, if I did well, I would be launched as a dancer in the theatre or movies or in a night club so that I could pay them back. I said yes to everything, without thinking, and there were more appointments, telephone calls and interviews. In April, I entered the school of modern dance.
I worked at my government job until 2:30 P.M. every day, and had classes at the dancing school from four to eight or nine o’clock every evening. I was on a scholarship but had to take out another loan to buy dance slippers, a leotard, and extra fares. I worked furiously at the exercises and the steps, to catch up with the others in the class It took an amazing amount of energy and left me sweating profusely. All those previous months of not eating well had undermined my body. I was still eating on the run … some days I had nothing but Coca-Colas and sweets until supper time at ten o’clock at night. By then, Roberto and Antonia were living with me, and to save a few pesos, I waited until I went home to eat what my sister-in-law had prepared. Never in my life had I worked so hard! I had to budget my time and my money, every minute and every centavo counted.
After two months of this, I began to have bad headaches every day. I couldn’t get up in the morning and all day I was too tired to work. I lost weight and felt that my spirit and my health were going. I didn’t see how I could possibly continue to study dancing. It looked as though I had to face another defeat, another disillusionment. What was I to do with the volcano of hope that had been aroused in me, the hope to become something, the hope not to die without leaving a mark behind me?
So when one of the young men in the dance class asked me if I
would like to be a movie extra during the vacation, I accepted. Through him, I got a job at the Churubusco Studios. I was very happy, and a bit afraid, to be there among the stars and important people of the movie industry. Never in my life had I dreamed of acting before a camera, and zas! there I was, on location. I acted as naturally as I could and they seemed to be satisfied, for they kept me on a whole week. I earned 190 pesos, including meals, for those seven exciting days.
As I was hanging about the employment office, hoping for another assignment, this character, a minor actor, came over and told me to get into the car, for he was taking me on location. I believed him and got in.
“What kind of work are you looking for?”
“I? Well, I like to sing. But I am only an amateur.”
“That’s nothing, one must begin somewhere. We all must start at the bottom to get to the top. Look at me! I’m not ashamed to admit I started with nothing, and now look where I am. Have you seen my last film?”
“No, I don’t go to the movies often. What did you say your name was?”
While we were speaking, Señor Ángel Montero drove his big car out of the studios onto a tree-lined highway. He was handsome and well dressed and … an actor! He showed me some of his recent photos and promised to autograph one for me. He spoke of his roles, of the famous stars he knew; he said that he was starting a booking agency and was looking for talent. He needed a young woman to sing with a trio. He asked me to sing. When the song was over, he looked impressed.
“Man! I admit I didn’t expect you to be that good! I think you will do. All you need is some coaching to get more expression into it. I’ll get the singer, Sarita, to coach you. She’s a good friend of mine and won’t refuse. I’ll take you there right now.”
“Señor Àngel, excuse me, but aren’t we going on location?”
“What a girl! Don’t you trust me? I don’t know how others have treated you, but I am a gentleman.”
“No, no! I didn’t mean that … I would like to meet Señora Sarita. I was simply curious … just asking, that’s all.”
“That’s better. Look, the truth is, I like you. If you only knew how many women … how many opportunities I have! I don’t look for them, they run after me. For example, do you know the actress Martita? Well …”
While he spoke, I thought, “Naturally, knowing all the artists, he wouldn’t bother with me.” We had been driving for quite a while. It had begun to rain. He kept talking about his women friends and about himself. I began to get apprehensive.
“Where is Sarita’s house? I didn’t know it would be so far.”
“Man! I told you it is near. Don’t you trust me? You make me feel like a barbarian!”
“Excuse me, Señor Ángel, but I’m anxious to meet her.”
He looked angry and I felt ashamed of myself. Suddenly, he turned into a driveway and there before my eyes, through the heavy rain, I saw the word “Motel.”
“Señor Ángel, I am not going in there! You said we would go on location, that’s why I went with you.”
“Sh! Stop making a racket. I don’t like that kind of clowning. I’ll take you on location, but right now I’m tired.”
He stopped the car in front of one of the bungalows and got out to open my door. I was nervous and worried. I felt a lump in my throat and wanted to cry but couldn’t because of fear or shame. I wouldn’t get out. It was raining hard and he was getting very wet. He pulled me out of the car and held my arm so tight it hurt.
“I don’t want to go in. Let me alone!” How humiliated I felt!
“I’m not asking your permission. Don’t be absurd. What a fool! It will only take a moment. How many girls would like to be in your place. They would feel honored! So why not you? Do you think you are a goddess? You should thank me!”
I sat on the bed. He laughed mockingly, locked the door, and unbuttoned his shirt.
“Kiss me!”
“No. I don’t want to. Let me alone! You’ll have to do it by force. Let me go, you’re hurting me.”
“Oh, shut up! Why are you making such a tango of it? I suppose you are a virgin? Come on, girl, take things easily. This is the most natural thing in the world. What are you afraid of? You are an enchanting little witch, but I’m not used to begging. If I can do it with Sarita and Martita, why not with you, eh?”
Four months later I found out I was pregnant. I didn’t suspect it because my menstruation had not stopped. I had never seen Señor Ángel again, and when I called the studios or at the televicentro, where he had appeared, they told me he was away on location. I finally found a doctor who was willing to do the delicate operation and I sold my new clothes closet to pay the expenses. I was very ill after it and missed two weeks of work.
Thus, to my sorrow, was my first, bitter encounter with that infamous, cursed Mexican machismo. I, like an infinite number of other Mexican women, was part of that cruel game, in which the domineering male wins. “Shall I knock you down or let you free?” There is nothing generous, noble or worthy in it, for there is a price to being let free. It is a barbarous act of egotism and advantage, adorned with persuasive words.
After my illness, I was too nervous to work in an office any more. I was in debt and three months behind in the rent. My father refused to help me and there was no one else to ask. I needed money desperately. I went back to the Studios to see if I could become a permanent extra. I met a girl who had made three thousand pesos as an extra in just one movie. She said I must become a member of the Sindicato and sent me to Señor Pissaro, a union official who might help me.
He said to me, “So, once you put your shoes before a camera, you want to do it again, eh?”
“Yes, Señor Pissaro, It is that I need the money.”
“Ah? And you don’t have membership papers? Can you leave the city to go on location?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Good! Are you married?”
“Mmmm … well …” I looked at his face.
“Man! I’m only asking to see if you are really free to be sent out. You have nothing to worry about. I will arrange your papers and everything. Be here on Monday.”
This time, I realized what I was doing. Señor Pissaro was not bad-looking. He must be worth something to become an official. He was in a position to help me. If he wanted something from me, I would be willing … especially when we were out of the city on location, or at least after I got to know him better. I fixed my nails and hair and got my best dress out of the pawnshop where Roberto had taken it when he needed some quick money. It wouldn’t hurt to look attractive!
But I hadn’t expected Señor Pissaro to take me to a motel that very day, and to force himself on me like Señor Ángel! Is it that I really looked like an easy woman? But I tried to fight him off! Then when I couldn’t, I turned into a stone. I controlled myself in an incredible way and didn’t respond. He was desperate and forced me down with his knee.
“Please, Señor Pissaro, don’t treat me like this!”
“What do you want? To let you go, so that later you can mock me? Above all I am a man, and you are trying to demean my manhood! Why don’t you fulfill your duty as a woman? Don’t be ridiculous! You help me and I will help you.”
He got what he wanted. But when I asked him about going on location, he said, “If I go, you go. I don’t know whether they will send me. Call me tomorrow at this number.”
I called and he wasn’t there; I went to the Sindicato offices and could never find him. Finally, I admitted to myself that I had been taken in. I didn’t let myself think about it, but closed my mind to all feeling. A short time later, I went to live in the apartment of an American student who had come to Mexico for his vacation. He introduced me to some of his friends.
Caray! So many things have happened to me since then. I don’t know where I get the strength! What can I do to stop punishing myself? Was it bad luck or bad faith that was my undoing? Not a day goes by when I do not have some filthy proposition, nor a powerful reason to accept it. But
now nothing matters to me, not morality, nor principles, nor my love for my family. I try to quiet the pain and anxiety I feel in my breast and look with indifference on the four children I have loved so much. It wasn’t right for me to expend all my moral and physical strength to offer them a better life, only to fall in a faint.
I have no job any more and that gives me a powerful defense. Now, when I see my aunt sick or upset, I can say, “I am not working. I cannot help you.” When Roberto needs a lawyer or has to pay a fine, I can say, “I have no money. Don’t come to me.” And the same with the children, for whom I had once held out so many hopes. I must break the chain that drags me down and injures me, thought it costs me five years of my life and all my noble sentiments. I will live half blind, like the rest of the people, and so will adapt to reality.
But though I try to disengage myself, I cannot fail to see what is happening to my family. Oh, God! They are destroying themselves, little by little. They are using themselves up, disappearing slowly, like my uncles, my mother, my grandmother, Elena, Paula … they have all gone and left me too soon. Now my aunt Guadalupe is like a light going out, a wax candle at the foot of the altar; Marta is but twenty-four years old and looks over thirty; each year, I think this will be Roberto’s last, for his life is agitated and he fears nothing. To him the edge of a sharp knife is the same as a piece of velvet. Manuel? yes, he will live, but at whose cost? How many more times will he test the love of his children by denying them food? It is horrible to think that he will survive his own children! Paula! how could you have let yourself die so easily? How could you have abandoned your adorable children, knowing what was in store for them?