Forever Destiny

by Mia Rodriguez

  “Yes.”

  Valeria sighed. Guilt made up her mind. “Okay.”

  “I’ll be right over!”

  True to his word, Leonel arrived at her place in less than half an hour. His contagious excitement and youthful buoyancy made her feel worse about her lack of enthusiasm at seeing him.

  “Guess what?” he asked, grinning like a little boy.

  “What?”

  “I’m getting a raise!”

  Valeria hugged him warmly. Being happy for someone's good fortune wasn't difficult. “Congratulations.”

  “I couldn’t wait to tell you.”

  “It’s such great news.”

  “And you want to know what the best part of it is?”

  “What is it?” she asked with curiosity.

  “We’ll be able to go on an extended honeymoon through Europe!”

  “Through Europe?” Valeria asked, disappointment in her voice.

  Leonel eyed her, perplexed. “You don’t want to go to Europe?”

  “To be honest with you, I’ve already been there and want to go someplace I haven’t been,” she blurted, not being able to hold in the truth of who she was.

  “But Val, wouldn’t you want to go back? I’ve already been there too, but how can you ever get enough of Europe?”

  “I’d rather go on a new adventure,” she insisted, sure of herself.

  “Like where?”

  “Peru.”

  “Peru?”

  “I’d love to see Machu Pichu. See the pyramids of the Incas.” She had already seen the breathtaking ones in Mexico and Guatemala. “That would be so exciting!”

  “You want to go there for our honeymoon?” he asked, baffled.

  “Either there or Africa.”

  “Africa?”

  “Yes.”

  Leonel’s puzzled face became more pronounced. “You want to go on a Safari?”

  “Yes, why not?" Valeria asked, feeling the space between them getting wider and more opaque. “I mean I don’t want to shoot animals, but I’d love to take their picture.”

  “You really want to do that on a honeymoon?” he asked in disbelief. “Wouldn’t it be more romantic to take a walk in Paris?”

  Valeria shrugged her shoulders unenthusiastically.

  “You'd rather go on Safari than to Paris,” he muttered. “I just can't believe it.”

  “I've already told you—I've already been to Paris. I want to go someplace different.”

  To Valeria, life was about exploring and welcoming new experiences instead of doing the same things over and over again. Leonel, on the other hand, liked to keep his world small, in manageable bites. In his opinion, why not stay in the tried and true options? Why not stay with the comfort that money could buy, with the prestige and opulence that went with it?

  He let out a frustrated breath as Valeria eyed him with challenge. “Oh well,” he asserted quietly, “we still have some time to figure out our honeymoon before our wedding.”

  "I guess so," she said dryly.

  He took her hands in his, kissing them like a school boy. He glided his fingers over her engagement ring. “You’re so beautiful and if I may say so, this sparkling, one-of-a-kind ring from the best jeweler I could find makes you even more gorgeous.”

  Valeria smiled lightly. “Are you sweet-talking me?”

  “Absolutely,” he said, kissing her hands again, his eyes suddenly landing on the only other ring she wore, a simple gold one with an emblem of a flower on its front. “You don’t have to wear this cheap ring anymore, Val.”

  She frowned heavily, the opaqueness between them becoming pitch black. “It’s got sentimental value,” she stated dryly.

  A pinkish tint covered his cheeks. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

  Later that night when Leonel had gone home and she was preparing to go to bed, the gold ring came to her mind. She had never told Leonel the story behind it, of how she had come to own this precious object that meant so much to her. It wasn’t a secret but for some reason, she felt unwilling to share it with him. Besides, he hadn’t asked about it. Why tell him anything?

  Many years ago, her parents had decided it was time to get out of rental homes and mortgage a house. As an adolescent, she had been as thrilled as a lottery winner to be able to feel ownership of her room. The Loya family moved to a lively, friendly neighborhood where people were as close as grain in a sack. The Loyas' next door neighbor, a kind elderly lady, welcomed them on the first day they arrived. Being of a nurturing nature, Valeria's mother immediately started looking after the elderly woman. The woman’s children would rarely visit, and her husband had recently died.

  "Is it such a sacrifice for children to take care for their parents? To visit them?" Mrs. Loya growled, her voice in a chiding mode.

  "I don't know what's wrong with Doña Ofelia's children," Valeria expressed.

  "I'd understand if they stayed away from her because she was mean and vicious like a hungry coyote, but she's as sweet as a baby chick."

  "I think her kids are ashamed of her," Valeria commented.

  "Ashamed?"

  "They like to pretend they have money, and Doña Ofelia is a simple woman, an unpretentious person."

  "What stupidity! I order you, order you, never to act like you don't have the brains God gave you," Mrs. Loya snapped. "Even animals have more sense than that."

  Valeria, in keeping with her mother, also started looking in on the elderly lady and making sure she was fine. She became preoccupied with making certain her neighbor had a full belly and warm blankets to sleep in. A special kinship grew between them as if Doña Ofelia was part of the Loya family.

  Doña Ofelia told Valeria the most fascinating and intriguing stories about her life. Her parents had actually been in the Mexican Revolution. Unfortunately, they had also met their deaths in it. Why her kids rarely visited their great mother to hear about their remarkable ancestry was beyond Valeria's comprehension. Doña Ofelia's parents had been sung about in the famous Mexican folk song The Ballad of Forever. She had been raised by her grandparents on her mother’s side, and by her mother’s best friend Katalina. Mama Katalina, as Doña Ofelia called her, had stayed on with Doña Ofelia’s mom’s parents to help raise baby Ofelia when Doña Ofelia’s father had died.

  “Mama Katalina had promised my mama she would take care of me, and she kept her promise,” sighed Doña Ofelia.

  A few days before she passed away, Doña Ofelia took the only ring she used off her finger and handed it to Valeria. “I want you to have this,” she stated.

  “I can’t,” Valeria answered, feeling deep warmth towards the simple ring and the pull of connection to it.

  “I know it’s not worth much in dollars but it means the world to me. It’s been in my family for ages.”

  “Then you should give it to one of your daughters.”

  “No,” she groaned. “They’ll never appreciate it. They’ll shove it into some drawer or worse—throw it away. You’ll wear it, won’t you, Valeria?”

  “Yes, I’ll wear it,” Valeria expressed, finally giving herself permission to accept an object she felt a pull towards.

  A few days later, Doña Ofelia never woke up from her slumber. Devastated and heartbroken, Valeria wondered with absolute curiosity how the elderly woman knew that she was about to meet with death. But her mother told her not to be surprised by such a happening, that life and death weren’t always what they seemed.

  “Death has many fingers,” Mrs. Loya asserted. “We human beings have very little understanding of it.”

  "We do?"

  "Absolutely."

  Many years later, Valeria still thought about Doña Ofelia’s sharp instinct of her upcoming death, and her willingness to face it so quietly. Gazing at the simple ring, it gave her immense joy and satisfaction that she had kept her promise and no one would make me take it off—not even her fiancé.

  Chapter 14


  Riding in the same enclosed vehicle didn’t seem like a good idea and neither Valeria nor Lorenzo had had to explain it to the other. Each arrived in separate cars to Ema's home, a crisp type of vibrancy in the air. As they stood at the door, very approximate to one another, their voices tightened in their throats as if speaking under such circumstances was difficult.

  “Here we go,” he said lightly, his eyes trying to stay away from her.

  “Yes, here we go,” she answered, also looking the other way.

  Valeria knocked on the partly dilapidated door. The apartment that Ema lived in was run down and in a working class neighborhood. Neither seemed surprised when it was Ema herself who opened the door.

  “Hi, Ema,” said Valeria, giving a comforting smile to her student's shocked face.

  “Ms. Loya, Mr. Montes,” Ema expressed, her eyes as round as saucer cups.

  “We wanted to talk to you and your parents,” expressed Lorenzo.

  “My mom isn’t here,” Ema stated nervously.

  “And your dad?”

  Ema cleared her throat. “I don’t have one.”

  “You don't?” asked Valeria.

  “My father died a long time ago.”

  “I’m sorry,” murmured Valeria.

  “We didn’t know,” said Lorenzo.

  “May we talk to you while your mom gets home?”

  “Why?”

  “Don’t be nervous, Ema,” stated Valeria with a comforting voice. “All we want to do is have a nice talk.”

  “Yes, Ema. We just want to discuss some things. Is that okay?”

  “Can’t we do this at school? I can get my mom to come with me.”

  “We’re already here,” said Lorenzo.

  “But . . . ”

  “Yes?” asked Valeria.

  “I . . . ”

  “Yes?”

  “I don’t want . . .”

  “What do you want to tell us?” asked Valeria.

  “I don’t want you to come inside my home,” Ema rushed.

  “Why?” asked Valeria.

  “I’m ashamed of where I live,” Ema blurted, upset as her eyes stared at the faded and cracked linoleum on the floor. It had once, way before Ema and her family moved there, been beige with a circular pattern but now most of the circles were broken and the original color hard to decipher.

  “Why would you be ashamed?” asked Valeria.

  “We don’t have a lot of money,” mumbled Ema.

  “Ema,” Valeria said gently. “I grew up in a neighborhood just like this one.

  “So did I,” stated Lorenzo.

  “You did?”

  “Yes,” assured Valeria.

  “When my parents came from Mexico, they didn’t have much,” explained Lorenzo.

  “Neither did mine,” Valeria declared. “Never be ashamed of being poor. Be ashamed of not being a good, caring person.”

  Lorenzo eyed Valeria with admiration and a smile on his lips. “Would you please let us in so we can talk?”

  “Okay,” Ema said, a nervous timbre still in her voice.

  As they stepped into the tiny apartment, Neither Valeria or Lorenzo took particular notice of the well worn furniture which had been bought at Goodwill or the scarcity of things in the spotless apartment. Two kids, a girl and a boy, intently watched TV.

  “This is my sister Becky and my brother Cheecho.”

  “Hi,” the children said in unison, as they stood up from the sofa and shook hands with Valeria and Lorenzo.

  “Go to mom’s room and re-check your homework.”

  “Your sister and brother have very good manners,” commented Lorenzo as soon as the children left the room.

  “They’re awesome kids,” said Ema, pride filling her voice.

  “Like you,” stated Valeria.

  “Which is why we came to talk to you,” expressed Lorenzo. “You’re too good of a student to waste your brain.’

  “I’m not a good student,” Ema blurted. “I’m stupid.”

  Lorenzo let out an exasperated sigh. “Ema, you’re not stupid.”

  “You told me I was.”

  “I told you that if you didn’t put more effort, you were doing something stupid.”

  “Ema, why do you do the work sometimes and then at other times slack off?”

  “It’s tough.”

  “The work?” asked Valeria.

  “Yes, not all teachers are like you, you know.”

  “You’re having a hard time with some of your other classes?” asked Lorenzo.

  Ema’s eyes became wet and sad. “I don’t fit in school.”

  “Tell us about it, Ema,” Valeria said gently.

  “I don’t have any friends and some of my other teachers treat me as if I’ve got a cooties or something.”

  “Let’s start with the friends business,” said Lorenzo. “Tell me why you think you don’t you have friends?”

  “I’m a freak.”

  “Why do you say that?” asked Valeria.

  “I just don’t fit in. I can’t get into what most teenagers are into,” Ema blurted. “I don’t really care about designer clothes or parties or popularity.”

  “You don’t?” asked Lorenzo.

  “No, I don’t,” Ema affirmed. “You probably don’t believe me.”

  “We believe you,” stated Valeria. “With your father gone and two kids you have to take care of while your mom works, you’ve grown up very fast, haven’t you?”

  “I guess so.”

  “You’re very mature for someone your age,” declared Lorenzo.

  “Or someone of any age,” asserted Valeria, smiling. “That’s why you have a hard time fitting in.”

  “You really think I’m mature?”

  “Yes, and you’re also smart and talented,” rushed Valeria.

  “That’s why you have to put more effort in school.”

  “But I hate school,” cried Ema. “It’s just not for me.”

  Valeria put her hand on Ema’s shoulder. “But—“

  “You don’t understand.”

  “Ema, we know that high school is tough,” asserted Valeria.

  “For some people it’s not,” Ema stated bitterly.

  “This world is made up of many different kinds of people—luckily,” assured Valeria.

  “And not all people are joiners," Lorenzo declared. "Some are more like you—private and not liking crowds. I’m like that.”

  “You are?” Ema asked, her voice showing a sliver of hope.

  “I’ve always been a loner.”

  “I’m not that much of a crowd person myself,” stated Valeria.

  “High school is very tough for people like us.”

  “Mr. Montes is 100% right,” affirmed Valeria. “People like us find it hard to be followers just to be accepted.”

  “But because you don’t fit in doesn’t mean you should slack off, Ema. You need that diploma.”

  “You’re already a junior. Graduation is around the corner. College will be different from high school.”

  “College?” asked Ema.

  “Yes, college,” affirmed Valeria.

  “You think I can go to college? I don’t have any money.”

  “You can’t use that as an excuse. There are grants and scholarships out there,” assured Lorenzo.

  “Have you heard that Spanish expression, 'Querer es poder?” asked Valeria. Ema nodded. “Well, it's true. If you want something bad enough you can do it.”

  “You’re very bright, Ema. You’re grades are at a B average even with all the slacking off. If you work hard from now on, you can up your grades to an A average.”

  “What kind of career do you want, Ema. Have you thought about it?”

  “I want to be . . . ”

  “Yes?” asked Lorenzo.

  “A teacher.”

  “You do?” asked Valeria, her lips forming a bright smile.

  “Yes.”

&n
bsp; “Go for it,” stated Lorenzo. “Don’t let anyone or anything stop you.”

  “But sometimes I don’t understand the work in my classes.”

  “Ask your teachers questions,” said Valeria. “Annoy them if you have to.”

  “Ema, to be honest with you, some teachers are only there for a paycheck. It’s hard being a good teacher and some have given up on it because of the problems with teaching. Sometimes we don’t get the support we need from those above us or by the parents themselves.”

  “Ema, I know how hard it must be for you to try to keep up at school and trying to take care of your brother and sister, but it’s something you have to do. Your future is in your hands.”

  “Ms. Loya and I will help you any way we can. You can come see us with whatever.”

  “I can?”

  “Absolutely,” gushed Valeria.

  As the door opened, all pairs of eyes shifted to it. A woman stepped in and eyed Valeria and Lorenzo with surprise. She looked like an older, more tired version of Ema with dark hair speckled with gray and exhausted eyes.

  “Mom, these are my teachers, Ms. Loya and Mr. Montes.”

  “Is everything okay?” asked Mrs. Beltran with concern, shaking their hands.

  “We just wanted to stop by to tell you how proud we are of your daughter. She’s very intelligent,” explained Valeria.

  Mrs. Beltran smiled brightly and sat down on the loveseat next to Ema. “Yes, my daughter is very smart.”

  “We want to encourage her to study hard and go to college.”

  “You think she has a chance of that?” asked Mrs. Beltran, hope radiating in her voice.

  “Yes, definitely.”

  “But the money, but—“

  “There are government grants and loans out there and if she applies herself, she can get a scholarship,” informed Valeria.

  Shiny tears formed in Mrs. Beltran’s eyes. “That would be a dream.”

  “A dream that can come true,” stated Valeria.

  “Really?”

  “Yes,” asserted Lorenzo.

  Tears trickled down Mrs. Beltran’s face. “With my husband dying all of a sudden, it’s been very hard and I’m afraid my poor daughter has had too much on her shoulders.”

  “Its okay, Mama,” said Ema, hugging her.

  “No, it’s not okay but there isn’t much I can do. I’m trying the best that I can.”

  “I know, Mama.”

  “It’s all I can do.”

  “Mrs. Beltran,” murmured Lorenzo. “You’ve done a very good job with your daughter. She’s smart, respectful, and kind. You should be very proud of yourself.”

  “Yes, Mrs. Beltran.”

  “I wish I could give her more.”

  “You’ve given her all you have,” stated Valeria. “She has to take it on from here.”