Bella looked down at her brown-stained fingers. Maybe Pedro was right. What good was it for her to talk about women presidents and famous female pilots?
CHAPTER 14
Chinches
The next day Bella stopped by Lola’s house on the way to work. Lola was sweeping the sidewalk, and despite the hot, muggy morning, she was whistling. “Bella! Are you ready for another day in La Barbacoa?” Lola leaned her broom against the porch steps.
Bella tried not to frown. Lola’s voice was too loud this early in the morning. How could Lola be so cheerful after all the years she’d put in at a cigar bench?
“I’m sorry you had to start at the hottest time of the year,” Lola said. “The stripping room is downright cozy in the winter.”
“I suppose it would be,” Bella said as they started up the street. But she’d be back in school by the fall. Somehow!
“Are you coming to our union meeting this week?” Lola asked.
“I should help Mama with her laundry orders,” Bella said.
“The union is only as strong as its members.” Lola walked so fast that Bella had to lengthen her stride to keep up. “And we’ve had a long struggle in Ybor. I helped organize the stemmers in my first factory. Management thought they could walk all over us just because we were women. It took a wildcat strike to bring the bosses around. The cigar rollers wouldn’t support us until we shamed them by calling through the windows: ‘Where are your skirts, afeminados?’ ”
“I’ll try to come to a meeting soon.”
“Are you just saying that to shut your auntie up?” Lola grinned and squeezed Bella’s shoulders.
When Bella got home from work, Rocinante was so tired from the heat that she lay on her side under the shady oak and waited for Bella to come and pet her.
“Hi there, pretty girl.” Bella knelt and ruffled Rocinante’s chin whiskers. “You’re smart to rest today.” The goat sniffed Bella’s fingers and shook her head. Bella laughed. “I don’t like that tobacco smell either, but we’ve got to get used to it.”
Bella looked longingly at the shade. There were no trees on the south side of her factory, and her chest felt heavy when she breathed in the hot, damp air.
Mary walked around the back of the house. “Hi!”
“You look as hot as I feel,” Bella said.
“The streetcar was stuffy on the way back from the colonel’s. Mrs. Purcell had us polishing her silver all day.”
“At least you weren’t roasting in La Barbacoa.”
“I can’t imagine how hot that third floor must be.”
“When I look at the women who’ve worked in that factory for twenty years, I don’t know how they can stand it.”
“Did Lola talk you into going to the union meeting?” Mary asked.
“I can’t make up my mind. Grandfather always preaches compromise and calm. And Mama says family is all that matters. But when I’m sweating in that stripping room for starvation wages, I can see why Lola believes in the union. For now, all I want is to see a movie.”
“What’s playing at the Ritz?” Mary asked.
“Dishonored.”
“Marlene Dietrich!” Mary said.
“More fun than listening to a bunch of cigar workers argue.”
“Lola will be upset that you’re picking the petting pantry over the union hall.”
“She’ll get over it.” Bella chuckled at the nickname for the movie theater. “And what good are the few pennies I earn at the factory if I can’t have a little fun?”
After Mary had gone home, Bella helped fix supper. The heat from cooking made the house so warm that Bella led the children out onto the porch for their evening story. She didn’t always have time to keep up with Grandfather’s novels, so lately she’d been playing games. Sometimes she had the children pick three objects, and she wove them all into a tale. Other times they took turns telling one together. Tonight Bella said, “Who wants to pick a title for a story?”
Pedro raised his hand. “How about ‘Tornado Soup’?”
Juanita giggled. “That’s a good one.”
After a moment, Bella said, “I’ve got it. Once upon a time in a castle by the sea, there lived a lonely king. He had no wife or children, and he was bored by everyone and everything. He never went on quests. He never slayed dragons. He took no pleasure in the nightly feast his servants laid out on a table that was twice as long as this casita.” The children’s eyes got big as Bella waved her hand to show the length of the table.
“One day a bearded stranger arrived, wearing a torn chef’s hat and a ragged coat. He was carrying an enormous leather-bound book with mysterious writing on the cover. Storm clouds were gathering in the east. . . .”
When the story was done, Bella helped Mama tuck Juanita and Isabel into bed. As Bella and Mama walked to the kitchen, Mama said, “You have Grandfather’s gift for telling a tale. How the children love listening to you!”
“I wasn’t sure how I was going to work in both the soup and tornado,” Bella laughed.
She went outside to see whether Rocinante had water for the night. Bella touched the magnolia. Even the tree bark felt warm tonight. “Sleep well.” Bella patted Rocinante’s head.
By the time Bella climbed into bed, she was so tired that she didn’t even hear the radio next door. But just as she was dozing off, Juanita yelled “Ouch!” and slapped at herself.
“It’s only a mosquito,” Bella mumbled.
“No, it’s not,” Juanita said. “Light the lamp.”
“Go back to sleep,” Bella said.
“I feel something too,” Isabel said.
Bella lit the lamp, and Mama came in to see what was wrong. As Mama pulled back the covers, Bella was ready to say, “See, it’s nothing,” when she saw a black bug.
“Chinches!” Bella said, and suddenly she was crying. “I’ve brought them home from the factory.”
“It’s not your fault,” Mama said. “Those bugs crawl out of the tobacco bales. There’s nothing you can do to keep them from getting onto your clothes. We’ll just air things out tomorrow.”
Airing things out took the better part of the next morning. Luckily, Bella had the day off. They began by taking the beds apart and carrying them to the backyard. Juanita had to stand on “goat watch” after Rocinante tried to chew the corner of one mattress. Next Mama lit a fire under the washtub. “While the water is heating, pick the bugs off the mattresses and throw them into the fire,” she said. “And let’s not make a spectacle of ourselves for the neighbors.”
“Yuck.” Juanita and Isabel frowned as they picked at the mattress.
But Pedro laughed as he tossed a handful of bugs into the fire and said, “Listen to them pop.”
When Mrs. Navarro stepped onto her back porch, Mama whispered, “What did I tell you about keeping quiet?”
After the mattresses were free of bugs, Mama scrubbed them with Octagon soap and sprinkled on El Vampiro bug-killing powder. The final step was rubbing the iron bedsprings with kerosene and setting them on fire.
“I’m glad those bugs got fried,” Juanita said as they washed off the blackened springs. Finally they carried the beds back into the house.
“I’d do anything to not have bugs in my bed,” Isabel said.
But when Mama said, “We should be able to stay ahead of them if we clean the beds once a week,” both girls looked ready to cry.
Bella shivered. The piles of tobacco leaves at her factory must be crawling with bugs!
CHAPTER 15
The Bolita Boys
On her days off Bella continued to help Mama with the laundry and housework. Though she didn’t have time to bring Grandfather lunch every Saturday, she visited him as often as she could. She missed listening to his readings.
One morning as Bella and Lola were walking up the factory steps, Bella heard a faint buzzing. “A radio?”
“We’ll see about that,” Lola said.
In the cigar-rolling room they found Edgar Mendez adjusting t
he dial on a radio cabinet beneath the lector’s platform while a second man stapled an antenna wire to an overhead beam.
“What’s going on?” Lola asked.
“Isn’t it a lovely morning, señoritas?” Edgar walked up to Lola and tried to take her hand.
“Don’t waste your charm on me, Edgar. What are you up to?”
“As you can see, we are installing a radio for the amusement of the workers.”
“What about the lectores?” Lola asked.
“The owners decided that the cigar rollers would appreciate listening to the World Series games,” Edgar said.
“And how convenient that there won’t be a lector here to read the union news to us,” Lola said.
That evening Bella stopped by Grandfather’s house and told him about the radio. “Can you believe they would replace a man with a noise box like that?” she asked.
“There are fewer of us lectores all the time,” Grandfather said.
“But think of the grand tradition.”
“Change is the only constant these days.” Grandfather looked toward the street. “Now that horses have given way to automobiles and iceboxes are being replaced by refrigerators, it’s only a matter of time before the lector goes the way of the blacksmith and the iceman. Especially since the companies blame us for all their union troubles. When the committee has me read labor newsletters, El Paraíso owners act like I’ve written them myself.”
“But the owners know there’s no way to compare a reading like yours that makes the characters laugh and sing to the static of one of those—those infernal noise machines!”
Grandfather started chuckling.
“What’s so funny?” Bella asked.
“You’re sounding just like me.”
Bella stopped. “I suppose I am.”
“I’ve dedicated my life to books, and I’ll continue to read as long as people want to hear me.” Grandfather hugged Bella with one arm. “But values can change.”
“They would never replace you.”
“It will do no good to worry over it,” Grandfather said. “Aren’t you going to ask how the novel went today?”
“Are you still reading about Captain Nemo’s adventures in Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea?”
Later that week Lola stopped by the house and said to Mama, “You need to have a talk with your son.”
“What’s he done now?”
Lola pointed at Pedro. “Where were you yesterday afternoon?”
“I was with my friends,” Pedro said.
“Downtown!” Lola said. “With the very boys I’ve warned you to stay clear of.”
“They’re not that bad,” Pedro said.
“Those boys are up to their ears in bolita.”
“Bolita! Gambling!” Mama said. “Pedro, I swear I will hang myself if you dishonor this family one more time.” She wagged a finger so close to Pedro’s nose that he had to lean back. “How many times have I told you that you’re judged by the company you keep? You stay clear of those bolita boys. A man who lies down with dogs will get up with fleas.”
Bella had often heard about bolita, but she hadn’t known how popular the game was until her second afternoon at the factory, when a man stopped by at coffee break to collect the daily bolita bets. Nearly everyone on her floor pitched in a nickel. When Bella hesitated, Ruby said, “What’s the matter? You too good to have a little fun?”
“I don’t believe in gambling,” Bella said.
“Well, don’t you be beggin’ for a share of the jackpot when my number comes up,” Ruby said.
Bella wanted to say, “If bolita is such a great way to get rich, why are you sitting in a sweat-stained dress in a smoky cigar factory earning a dollar a day?”
On the way home Bella asked Lola, “If gambling is illegal, how can they collect money out in the open like that?”
“The whole thing started when this was a frontier town. Vicente Ybor asked that gambling be allowed because there was nothing to keep the men occupied. But nowadays half the cops in this town are on the bolita payroll. And I’ve heard that plenty of the higher-ups in city hall are taking bribes too.”
“Do you ever bet?” Bella asked.
Lola shook her head. Then she leaned toward Bella and whispered, “Just between you and me, I heard from a very reliable source that the whole thing is rigged.”
“Did Nick tell you something?” Lola’s former boyfriend, Nick, worked at the Lido nightclub.
“I’m not saying who told me, but it’s easier than you’d think.” Lola stopped talking as they passed an elderly lady who was watering her flowers. Then she continued. “They play the game by putting a hundred numbered wooden balls in a cloth bag and tossing it into the air. A catcher grabs one ball through the material and cuts it free. To fix the game a fellow steals a ball and fills it with lead. That way the catcher can feel the heaviest ball. If they’re in a hurry they just put one ball in the freezer so it’s easy to pick out through the cloth.”
“Just like the owners of the movie theater—they trick the kids into thinking they can win that bike!” Bella said.
“The crooks know how to work a person,” Lola said.
Bella nodded. “They tease everyone into building up their hopes, but it’s all a lie.”
CHAPTER 16
The Heat Wave
The following Monday night Bella was telling the girls the legend of the pirate Gasparilla when a knock came at the front door and a voice called, “Mrs. Lorente?”
Mama brushed back her hair and started down the hall.
“Maybe it’s Tía Lola.” Juanita ran after Mama.
Officer Burns stood with Pedro beside him. The policeman handed Pedro’s slingshot to Mama. “Your boy has something to tell you, Mrs. Lorente.”
“Didn’t we just have a talk?” Mama demanded. Pedro refused to look her in the eye.
“It was only a joke.” He stared at his feet.
“Explain yourself.” Mama placed her hands on her hips.
“One of my friends dared me to shoot my slingshot at Cannella’s cart horse.”
“Luigi Cannella, that poor old vegetable man?” Mama’s eyes filled with tears.
Pedro lowered his head farther.
“I’m sure he meant no harm, Mrs. Lorente. But the horse got hit in the flank, and it bolted. A few bushels of tomatoes and cucumbers spilled onto the street. And the rim of the wagon wheel was dented when it hit a rock.”
“How could you?” Mama wrung her hands, but Pedro only shrugged.
Juanita let out a wail and began crying. Bella knelt and gave her a hug. “It’ll be all right.”
“No. No, it won’t.” Juanita cried even harder.
“The policeman won’t hurt Pedro,” Bella said.
“It’s Mama. She’s going to hang herself from the clothesline. I know she is.”
“What did she say?” Officer Burns frowned.
“Nothing,” Bella said. “She’s just upset.”
Mama turned to Officer Burns. “We’ll pay for the damages, of course.”
“I told Luigi that you’d make things right. But in the future, Mrs. Lorente, could you—”
“I assure you this will not happen again—will it, Pedro?”
“No, Mama.” Pedro kept his eyes cast down.
Mama didn’t cry until after Officer Burns had left. Bella hugged her tightly as they both wept. “Hasn’t he learned that his conduct soils us all?” Mama gulped between her tears. “If only Domingo were here. Have I been such a bad mother?”
“Don’t say that, Mama,” Isabel said. “It’s not your fault.” She looked at Pedro. “See what you’ve done!”
Pedro’s lip quivered as he, too, began to cry.
It took every penny of the family’s emergency fund—eight dollars in all—to cover the cost of the ruined vegetables and to repair Mr. Cannella’s wagon. Mary walked to the market with Bella to pay the money. On the way Mary showed Bella a postcard her father had sent from the Hoover Dam con
struction project. “He says it’s a hundred and thirty-five degrees out there!” Mary said.
“I’d better stop complaining about the stripping room,” Bella said.
“Workers are dying of heatstroke every day.”
Mr. Cannella said, “Thank you so much for settling things so quickly.”
“It was the least we could do.” Bella hoped the woman at the front of the store wouldn’t overhear their conversation.
“Let me give you some vegetables.”
“You don’t have to bother.” Bella wanted to get out of the store as quickly as possible.
“I insist.” Mr. Cannella opened a paper sack and walked to the bins near the door. “I have some choice tomatoes and onions today.” Bella’s face burned with embarrassment.
As Mary and Bella started down the street, Bella said, “I can’t believe Pedro did this to me.”
“You have to remember he’s just a little boy,” Mary said.
“I’ll be spending the next twenty years in a cigar factory. And he gets to go to school!”
“Things are bound to improve soon.”
“That’s easy for you to say, Miss Shiny Shoes.” Before the last word was out, Bella regretted what she’d said.
But it was too late. Mary looked as if Bella had slapped her. “I was only trying to help.”
“I’m sorry.” Bella reached out to take her hand, but Mary pulled away.
When Bella got home, Pedro met her at the door. “I promise to pay you back,” he said. “I really will.”
“Do you think I’m stupid enough to believe that? And you’re the one who’ll be going to school instead of me! I’ll be stuck in that factory. It’s not fair.” Bella was just as angry at herself for being mean to Mary as she was at Pedro. She turned to Mama. “I’m wringing wet.” Bella’s dress was plastered to her back with sweat.
Mama noticed the sack in Bella’s arms. “Did you have extra money to buy vegetables?”
“Mr. Cannella gave us a few tomatoes and onions.”
“How nice of him,” Mama said. “And did you tell him that Pedro would be coming over to help him load his wagon each morning for the rest of this month?”
El Lector Page 7