“Do you remember Melissa?” Tío Ermenio asks.
“No, not really,” María says. “Sorry.”
“I wouldn’t think you would. You were six or seven years old,” my mom says. “I remember you loved eating fish and veggies on the porch of your tía Darma’s farm. It was the cutest thing.”
“She did!” Tío Ermenio confirms. There’s an awkward pause. María looks around as though she’s wondering if she should stay or not.
“It’s nice to see you,” she finally says before heading to her room.
“María and her father, Sergio, come down to sell produce at the farmers’ market on the weekends,” Tío Ermenio says. “Sergio says it’s the only time he gets to spend with his daughter anymore. She’s leaving in the fall to start school in Florida. He’s very emotional about it. Don’t bring it up.”
“So the farmers’ market is still around?” Mom asks.
“It’s even bigger now!” Tío Ermenio says. “All local products crecido en Puerto Rico!” He raises his hands excitedly, then loses his balance a little. He holds on to the stair railing. “Esta bendita cadera.” He rubs his hip. “I’ll get it replaced eventually.”
María steps out of her room. “Me voy a resfriar,” María says, shivering. “¡Papi!”
“¡Ya voy!” yells a voice from the shared bathroom. “Dios mío, los teenagers no tienen paciencia pa’nada.”
We all look at Tío Ermenio.
“They love each other,” he says, and keeps walking up another flight of stairs.
I ask my mom what they were saying. She tells me that María was yelling at her dad because she was cold and didn’t have hot water to shower. Her dad was yelling that his teenage daughter doesn’t have any patience. I don’t understand any of it.
The toilet flushes, and the sound of water trickling down through the building breaks the quiet.
“Okay, hija. ¡Bañate!”
“¡Gracias!” María runs into the other bathroom. A guy peeks his head up at us from the third floor.
“Mel? You’ve arrived!”
“Hola, Sergio,” my mom says.
“Good flight?”
“Yeah, it was fine. No delays, thank goodness.”
Sergio. This was the guy from the photos who Tío Ermenio said is one of my dad’s cousins.
“Your boys are so big,” he says. “You know, I knew you when you were this small.” Sergio puts his arms together like he’s cradling an imaginary baby. “You’re tall como tu papá.”
“My dad?”
“Yeah,” Sergio says. “Although I think you got him beat.”
Sergio walks over to us and puts his hand on Charlie’s shoulder. “And this must be Charlie,” he says.
Charlie watches Sergio for a moment. “Hi,” he says quietly.
“I saw many pictures of you as a baby. Did you know that?”
Charlie nods.
“You did? What a memory!”
Charlie smiles.
“Hey, I’m taking the girls to the lawn by el Morro tonight if you all want to go. There’ll be fireworks and music.”
Charlie’s ears perk up. “I love fireworks, Marcus,” he whispers.
“I know, man.”
“Fun!” my mom chimes in.
“I want to go,” Charlie says.
“Let’s get up to the room first,” I tell him. “Cool?”
Charlie nods and immediately starts climbing stairs. I guess he isn’t tired anymore. Tío Ermenio watches me.
“You’re a good brother,” he says, and pats my arm.
We finally get to a door at the top of the final flight of stairs. Tío Ermenio unlocks it and steps through.
My mom and Charlie pause, and when I get to them, I see why they haven’t walked any farther. There is a long suspension bridge that runs above the rooftop area to a terrace. On the terrace, there’s something that looks like a miniature house. I can see the ocean peeking through the other rooftops from where I’m standing.
“Oh, I remember the bridge!” my mom exclaims. “So much fun.”
“What is that?” I ask.
“My late wife, your tía abuela, and I thought it would be fun for the kids to cross a bridge to get to us,” Tío Ermenio explains. “There are also stairs over there.”
Charlie and I look at each other. No more stairs.
“So,” I ask, watching the suspension bridge. “You had kids?”
“No, we never had kids of our own. A long time ago my Milagro and I turned our home into a hostel. And it has come in handy to accommodate so many nieces and nephews. We used to live up here, but I’ve moved to the bottom floor because of my hip.”
Tío Ermenio points to the tiny house on the terrace. “That will be your place.”
My mom offers us a smile that looks a lot like an apology. “See, guys? An adventure bridge.”
My mom starts walking across the bridge, and it sways side to side.
Charlie tugs at my shirt. “I want to see the fireworks.”
“Not now, man. I’m trying to figure out if that thing will hold me.”
Tío Ermenio and my mom cross and wave us over. Charlie tiptoes across while holding the rope railing.
“Be careful, man,” I tell him as the bridge starts to look more like a swing.
He gives a thumbs-up and starts waving for me to hurry. “Go fast. I want to see fireworks,” he says. He pauses for a second and adds, “You might be too big!”
“Wait till I get over there,” I tell him.
“I promise you,” Tío Ermenio says. “It is completely safe.”
I walk to the edge and put my foot on one of the planks. It feels like I’m trying to balance on a skateboard.
“Can’t we just stay in a room downstairs?” I say, because honestly, I don’t think this bridge will support my weight. I should have just taken one more flight of stairs.
“Don’t be a chicken,” my brother says. He starts gobbling like a fool with feathers.
“Come on, sweetie,” my mom says.
I take another step and then another. I’m entirely on the bridge, trying not to move too much. I make the mistake of looking down to see that the rooftop is far enough that, if I slip, I’m going to bust my butt. I close my eyes and hurry across.
“Finally!” my brother says, shaking his head. “Took forever.”
“Pipe down, funny guy,” I tell him. “I’m not big on heights.”
Charlie laughs uncontrollably and then hugs me. He takes my neck and brings me down to his face. “Nose kiss,” he says, wiggling his nose across mine.
He’s done that since he was little.
I take his head in my armpit and rub his hair with my knuckle.
“So you got jokes, huh? Huh?”
He cracks up.
My mom and Tío Ermenio head toward the shack. Charlie and I follow, and when we get there, Tío shows my mom the outdoor shower.
“This is the only private shower in the building,” he says.
What’s private about an outdoor shower on a rooftop surrounded by buildings? Tío Ermenio draws the curtain and twists the shower knobs. Water makes the shower rumble to life.
“It’s a little cool, but in this heat it’s refreshing.”
He opens the door to the small house and lets us in. On one side, there is a double bed covered with a net, and a twin in the corner. On the other side, there’s a small stove and a refrigerator that looks more like a box, and a closet that is barely the size of my mom’s suitcase. A wooden desk and chair rest below a window that has a view down to the rooftop area. This place isn’t just small. It’s a dollhouse. I feel like I stepped off a beanstalk. My head barely misses the creaky fan that twirls above.
“It’s small,” Tío Ermenio says.
The understatement of the m
illennium.
“But my Milagro and I only stayed in here to sleep. Most of the time we were out on the rooftop with all the kids.”
“Tía Milagro was a wonderful person,” my mom offers. “I wish I could have been here for the funeral.”
“You need to stop making yourself feel guilty about everything, Melissa,” Tío Ermenio says. “Guilt does nothing for the spirit.”
He hands us the keys and tells us that the whole rooftop is ours to use as we wish. “I will bring fresh café con leche in the morning con bocadillos de guava.”
“Thank you,” my mom says as Tío Ermenio leaves. She rushes over to him and gives him a long hug.
“I’m glad you’re here, mi amor.” He holds her face as he says this. “Okay, I’ll see you in a little while!” Tío Ermenio crosses the bridge expertly and heads back downstairs.
“Well, team?” my mom says. “Ready to explore?”
“I want to see fireworks,” Charlie says.
“I think that’s a great idea,” Mom replies, throwing herself on the bed. She’s smiling. Something about the way she exhales sounds like she’s happy she’s in this tiny shack in this ancient neighborhood with a bunch of my dad’s relatives. My mom wants to relax. My brother wants to see fireworks.
I want more answers.
TWELVE
FIREWORKS
My mom loves the outdoor shower.
“I feel so free out here!”
Charlie is dressed and ready to see the fireworks. My mom gets dressed and we head down from our rooftop in the middle of Old San Juan. I take Danny’s camera and pull it over my neck. It’s heavy, but there’s something comforting about the way it weighs down and rests against my chest. Like it’s a shield or something. A shield I can lift up and hide behind whenever I want. We cross the bridge, and this time I don’t look down. It doesn’t sway as much as before. The first person we see downstairs is Sergio.
“Hey!” he says, offering his hand. “Ready to see the fireworks?”
“Yes,” Charlie says.
“You know,” Sergio says, “I love fireworks.”
Charlie smiles. “Me too.”
“Well, we don’t want to miss the show. Shall we go?”
“Yes,” my mom says, taking Charlie and me by the hand. She looks at me. “Adventure, huh, sweetie?”
“Yeah,” I say as we get to my dad’s old room. I stop in front of it. “Hey, um, Sergio?”
“What’s up?”
“Have you, um, have you . . .”
“Your father and I, we used to be very close. He was a great farmer,” Sergio says. “But he went his way and I went mine.”
“Where did he go?”
“He had big plans for an agritourism business, but it didn’t work out.”
“Have you spoken to him?”
“Not for a while. Last time we saw each other was a few years ago. Maybe longer. He wanted to talk to Darma, but she became very upset at him.”
“What happened?”
“Why don’t we talk about this later? We don’t want to miss the show, do we?”
I shake my head. But I still want to find a way to get into my dad’s old room. How hard can it be to push in the door? We find the two German girls, Angela and Hilda, at the bottom of the stairs, waiting by the door.
“Fireworks!” Hilda says to Charlie.
María is the next to join us. She smiles at Charlie when she sees him.
“Buenas noches, lindo,” she says, rubbing his shoulder. Charlie soaks in every bit of María’s affection.
“He’s a flirt!” she says as Charlie gets all googly-eyed.
María goes outside with Angela and Hilda. My mom, Charlie, and I follow, while Sergio goes to close the door with no knobs. Tío Ermenio emerges before he can.
“I have to stay here at the front desk. Have a good time, children,” he says.
“We will, Ermenio,” Sergio says, walking with the rest of us. “Tío doesn’t really have anybody checking into the hostel anymore,” he adds, out of earshot. “But I think part of him likes to keep watch in case somebody does come.”
“Tío is always home,” María says suddenly. “He likes to keep watch over the house in case anybody needs a bed to sleep in.”
“Very true,” Sergio says. “All the tías and tíos in our family are like that.”
There’s something comforting about that, I guess. Like it makes it feel less lonely or something. Everyone says good-bye, and Tío Ermenio continues to wave at us from the stoop.
We walk down the cobbled streets toward the edge of the ocean. I can smell the sea air, and even though it’s getting dark, it’s still pretty hot. Springfield is freezing by this time of night.
I see an old castle on the edge of a cliff they call el Morro. I recognize it from the book on the plane. We find a place to sit where a crowd has gathered. María chats with Angela and Hilda.
“She acts tough, but she’s the best daughter any father could ask for,” Sergio says, beaming.
“She’s incredible,” my mom replies. “I can’t believe how much she’s grown. Where does the time go?”
“I don’t know,” he says. “She’s leaving for Florida next year, and I don’t know if I can handle being so far away from her. And I really don’t like to fly. Maybe I can take a boat?”
I wonder how it feels to have a dad who misses you before you are even gone. Maybe my dad feels that way and I just don’t know it.
“I tell her to go to school here and work on the farm with me, but she has her own dreams,” he says. “What can I do? They have to fly on their own at some point, ¿no?”
“Yeah,” my mom says.
“We’re trying to grow the business, but Darma is so focused on the agricultural school,” he says. “She’s like a mother to me. I have to respect her wishes.”
My mom tells me that Darma is Sergio’s aunt. Both of Sergio’s parents passed away when Sergio was only ten years old, and Darma raised him and his brother.
“She taught me everything I know,” he says fondly.
My mom tells him that I wanted to come here to find my dad but that really she just wants some time away with her kids. She talks about working so much and not spending enough time with us. It’s strange watching her open up like this. Sergio seems affected by what my mom’s saying. He looks over at us a few times and nods.
“Well, we should go look for him,” he says.
My mom seems surprised. “Aren’t you two in a fight right now?”
“We have different ways of talking to Tía Darma. His way is not very effective. But I can tell finding him is important to Marcus.”
I appreciate what Sergio says. I’m not used to asking for help. I can mostly take care of myself and my family.
Fireworks suddenly bursting in the sky make me lose my train of thought. Charlie watches without blinking. He covers his ears whenever there is a loud blast, but for the most part he watches intensely as the lights flicker blue and red and yellow. He points whenever he likes one a lot. He tells me to look, look, look, even though I’m already watching. I lift the camera and disappear behind the lens. Snap. Snap. Snap.
I snap a few more pictures, then my mom takes my hand and puts her other arm around Charlie. There we are, our first trip this far away, watching the night turn to sparkles and light, in a place we haven’t been, with strangers who say they’re family.
* * *
When the fireworks show is over, Sergio suggests we go to a café to have a snack. We all head down to an area close to Tío Ermenio’s that has a whole bunch of restaurants. Music blasts from a club with bright neon lights. It’s the kind of music Charlie was listening to on his headphones, and he starts grooving in the middle of the street. I try to stop him, but before I can, Angela and Hilda join in and start a dance party. My brother is not a shy kid
. Actually, he’s a total ham. The more attention he gets from Angela and Hilda, the more he sways to the music.
Sergio starts clapping along, and I see María smile also. Charlie has captured the attention of some people nearby, and soon they start dancing around my brother. A circle forms with Charlie at the center. More gather around, making it harder to keep an eye on Charlie. I manage to see that he’s holding Angela’s and Hilda’s hands as they twist and shake around. Some guy wearing sunglasses, a really tight shirt, and white pants jumps into the middle of the circle. I start moving through the crowd because I don’t like the way this guy is surrounding my brother in half-dance steps.
The guy skips and jumps around, keeping his eyes on Charlie. Angela and Hilda have made room for the guy, who stops right in front of Charlie and stares at him. I feel my hands clench into fists.
Charlie keeps dancing like nothing’s wrong as the guy lifts his sunglasses. He’s not smiling. He’s going to push my brother. I just know it. I rush over to stop him, but I worry I won’t get there in time. Before I reach Charlie, he strikes a pose and does an impressive dance twirl. The guy nods, smiles, jumps up, and lands in a split. How in the heck can he do the splits with pants so tight?
Everyone takes a step back and I find myself dead center. Everyone cheers.
No way. No way. They’re ridiculous if they think I’m going to dance. Forget it.
I walk back to the edge of the circle, but somebody gently pushes me in again. Charlie takes my hand. I don’t move. I allow him to use my hands and arms to twist around, but my feet stay firmly planted on the ground.
I don’t dance.
The dance circle expands when my mom joins in. The tight-pants guy starts dancing with my mom, and then Angela and Hilda come back in. I see Sergio trying to urge María to join him in the circle. María says no. She’s the only one I relate to in this bizarre situation.
The song ends and people start to disperse. My mom and Sergio find us a table at an outdoor café just steps away. We all make our way over and order some sandwiches. Two other people we don’t know join us at our lopsided table. One of them, a lady wearing a hot-pink shirt, shares that she just got her tax return and is treating herself to a night out before she puts the rest into her savings account.
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