“Free-ho-lee-toe!” I said as I turned around and took the cat in my arms. Wow, my little bean had grown bigger. And more cute, too.
“You thought he was sold, didn’t you?”
“No,” I answered, not wanting to give Geraldo the satisfaction of being right.
“Oh, I know you did,” he replied. “But what kind of customer is going to buy a lopsided cat?”
“He’s not lopsided,” I snapped back. “He’s just…unique, that’s all.” I stroked Frijolito’s fur. He purred.
“Si, he’s very ‘unique.’ This is why I’ve been keeping him in the back, so no one else decides to buy this ‘unique’ creature.”
“In the back all by himself?” I said, concerned that little Frijolito was not getting proper care and attention.
“Relájate,” answered Geraldo. “He gets nothing but VIP treatment. Special food, all the best toys, and lots of space to play.”
I smiled.
“Being that he’s already in your heart, I am hoping maybe he’ll show me the path.”
Geraldo’s eyes twinkled. I felt my face go flush.
“I missed you, Sonia,” he said. “I missed you very much. Must you make me wait so long to see you?”
“We cannot ‘see’ each other,” I said.
“Of course we can. And we will. Remember, it is written.”
“I remember nothing.”
“You remember Snickers bars and vegetable soup, I bet. Come,” he said, and led me to the back of the store, past the sign that said EMPLOYEES ONLY, and into the storage room. At first I didn’t want to go, but of course I was curious about what he wanted to show me, so I followed behind. And then, on a table filled with rabbit food and fish-tank water supplies, I saw a small, cleared-out space with an elegant dinner setting. There was a white plate, a cloth napkin, and a silver fork, spoon, and knife.
And in the center of the plate was a brand-new, not-yet-unwrapped Snickers bar alongside a can of vegetable soup.
“Are you ready for our first date?” asked Geraldo as he lit a small candle he had set up next to the water glass.
I didn’t know what to say. Obviously, Geraldo had been planning this moment for a long time. Truly, I couldn’t believe he had done all this for me. I just stared.
“Your sadness has such beauty, Sonia, but you carry too much of it. Your heart needs to smile,” he said. “A corazón without laughter is a corazón that will not survive.”
Geraldo smiled and my heart melted, so much so that I almost began to cry inside the stupid pet store. Geraldo was the kindest, most thoughtful boy I had ever met.
I looked deeply into his eyes and lost myself. I had never wanted to kiss a boy so badly in all my life. Frijolito purred.
“We can’t,” I said, suddenly breaking off my gaze.
“But we will,” he answered.
“I must go,” I said, turning for the door.
“Give me your phone number,” he said.
“No.”
“Yes.”
“No.”
“Here is paper. Please, write it down.”
He passed me the paper and a pen.
“I can’t,” I told him. Then I wrote down my phone number.
“Here. And take the cat before I rip my number up,” I said, passing him Frijolito.
“Go ahead,” he answered. “Tear it up, if that’s what you really want.”
I paused.
“Okay, I’ll do it for you,” he said, and then sure enough, Geraldo tore the piece of paper with my phone number on it into a thousand little pieces and tossed them into the air like confetti. I looked at him like he was crazy, completely not understanding why he had just done what he did.
“I memorized it the moment the pen touched the paper.” he said with a smile. “It is etched like stone into my brain.”
I lowered my eyes and left. I want to say that I wish I hadn’t given him my number, but I was glad I did. And I want to say that I was hoping that he wouldn’t call, but I was hoping he would. Geraldo didn’t seem like other boys. He was so nice, so gentlemanlike, so confident and handsome.
Maybe Geraldo really was different from other boys.
Then again, didn’t all other boys seem different from all other boys? I mean, that’s probably what Constancy had thought about Rickee before she got pregnant at the age of sixteen.
It was so obvious when I saw Constancy at school during lunch a few weeks later. The baggy clothes, the look of always being tired. I had never been really close with her the way I was with Tee-Ay (after all, I never even called Constancy “Cee-Saw,” like her other friends did), but when I saw her turn Kermit-the-Frog green at the sight of a simple french fry, I knew something had to be up. Besides, seeing a teenage girl trying to hide her pregnancy, well, it feels like I’ve grown up around that stuff my whole life.
One afternoon I decided to help. After all, helping others seemed to be one of the only things I was any good at. Besides, if I was in Constancy’s situation, I’d certainly hope someone would help me, so on my way home from escuela, I purchased some ginger candy and saltine crackers (the real kind, not the fake ones). Then, when I got home, I put my things down on the dining room table to go into the kitchen. When I came back into the room, I found Tía Luna with her nose all up in my business. She held up the saltines.
“¿Qué es eso?” she asked.
“Nada,” I answered.
“Fornicator!” she shouted.
“It’s not for me,” I replied.
“¡Mentirosa!” she yelled back, calling me a liar. “It’s the work of el Diablo.” She gave me a slow, evil eye and then headed into mi ama’s bedroom.
Let her believe what she wants, I thought as I packed the things back into a brown paper bag. I know the real truth.
When I handed Constancy the bag the next day at school, she glared at Tee-Ay with a laser beam look that could have burned a hole through a steel door.
“What? I didn’t say nothin’!” Tee-Ay said in her own defense.
A minute later, after I explained to Constancy how she should stay away from spicy foods and how what I had given her would help with the nausea, she started crying on my shoulder. I have to admit, it was kind of weird to be hugging someone I didn’t really feel that close to, but I hugged Constancy anyway and told her that it would be all right.
That’s when I realized my aunt was right. I was a mentirosa. I was a liar because, in my heart, I didn’t think it was going to be all right. I didn’t think it was going to be all right at all.
Constancy had no job, no education, and no man in her life who would step up and help her raise this baby. For a sixteen-year-old minority girl with a bun in her oven—no, I didn’t think it was going to be all right at all.
But still, that’s what I told her. Really, what else was I supposed to say?
“Ssshh, it’ll be okay,” I said as she wept on my shoulder. “Ssshh.”
Yep, I thought. Just another mess left by yet another Príncipe Charming from the hood. Qué sorpresa.
That night Geraldo called three times. I didn’t speak to him once. Instead, I did my homework. And an extra credit assignment for World History class.
Men are pigs.
chapter quince
“Pero no quiero,” I said a month later.
“Sonia, ya es bastante. Tú vas,” mi ama answered. “Sólo y Rodrigo.”
But I didn’t want to go to Mexico. And I most certainly didn’t want to go with just Rodrigo in just two days.
“Pero, Ama …"I said, hoping that whining would help.
It didn’t.
“¡Finalmente!” she said. “Tú vas a Mexico.” And that was the end of that. Mi ama returned to her room and closed the door. A minute later, the television went on.
When I was a kid, our whole familia would go to Mexico for the summer. Back then it was easy for people to just cross and recross the border, but now the borders have tightened, and my parents, • since they don’t have pape
rs, can’t risk not being able to reenter the United States. That’s why, like most illegals, now that they are here, they stay. We need the money.
The truth is, people mostly only come to the United States for the dollar bills. In Mexico, many workers make about two dollars a day, but in El Norte they can make twelve to fifteen dollars an hour for doing the same job. I mean, America thinks it’s so great, but not every person who comes here wants to stay forever. A lot of people just want to make cash and go back to their families but now that the borders are way stricter, it’s too dangerous to do that. And to sneak into the United States nowadays means you have to take life-threatening risks. Four-year-olds walk in 110-degree heat with no agua. Pregnant women swim through polluted rivers. People die on their way to this country. Many people die. They die for a chance at opportunity, an opportunity that I already have.
And now mi ama was sending me back? Heck, if Mexico was so great, why did they even come here in the first place?
“You don’t know how lucky you are to be able to visit your home,” mi ama said.
“This is my home,” I answered.
“This is not a home,” she said. “This is El Norte,”
I hated the way mi ama always acted as if one day we were going to leave. We were never leaving. We are Mexicans who have become Americans, and we are here to stay, even if my parents don’t have any papers. After all these years, I just didn’t understand why she still didn’t get that.
Besides, I didn’t want to go anywhere else. This country may not be her home, but it certainly is mine.
Isn’t it?
“Here are your tickets,” mi ama said, handing me an envelope she pulled from her dresser drawer. “I got a good price on them.”
I looked at the airline reservations.
“But this leaves in two days! Eight days before school is out,” I said.
“I saved twenty percent,” mi ama answered.
“What about mi escuela?” I asked.
“Tell your teachers you are leaving early.”
“They don’t just let you leave early.”
“Enough!” my mother shouted. “Who is in charge around here, anyway? Who knows what’s best for you?”
I didn’t answer the question, but I sure didn’t think it was her. The next day at school was horrible.
“No.”
“No?” I repeated with an uncertain look.
He paused and glared.
“No,” he said a second time. “Okay, wait,” he said. “How about this? What if I just let everyone leave eight days early?” he replied in a sarcastic voice. “Hey, class,” Mr. Wardin called to the entire room. “Good news: we’re going to let you out of school two weeks early because Ms. Rodriguez is heading to a beach in Mexico and needs to get her lounge chair set up before the rest of the vacationers get all the good spots by the water.”
The other students hardly even looked up from their World History work. They knew Mr. Wardin was just being a jerk.
“Or better yet, Ms. Rodriguez,” he said, turning back to me. “Why don’t we just cancel final exams altogether? After all, an eleven-week summer vacation to smoke weed, have sex, and play video games is hardly enough time at all, now that I think about it.” He called out to the class a second time. “Also, class, I’ve decided school is canceled today, too, because I want to leave early and go eat tacos with my homies.”
I looked down. There was no need to embarrass me.
“You do realize, Ms. Rodriguez, that if it were up to me, I’d cancel summer vacation entirely and make kids go to class year round. You people need more school, not less. Tell your mother the answer is no. There is no way to take any of your tests early, and if you miss class, your grade will suffer.”
“How much?” I asked in a low voice.
Mr. Wardin rolled his eyes then slowly opened his grade book.
“You know, with as much school as you’ve already missed, it’s pretty incredible that you have managed to maintain a B- so far. But if you leave, your grade will most assuredly drop to a D.”
“A D?” I said, thinking about all the hard work I had done this year.
“Be grateful it’s not an F, Ms. Rodríguez,” he said, closing his grade book. “Besides, who is in charge around here, anyway? I mean, really, who do you think knows what’s best for you?”
I didn’t answer, but I sure didn’t think it was Mr. Wardin.
I went home and tried one last time to talk to my mom, telling her exactly what Mr. Wardin had said about my grades.
“Make sure you pack gifts for your cousins,” she responded. “It’s rude to show up from El Norte without lots of gifts.”
The next day, I would be on a plane.
chapter dieciséis
I was mad. I was mad at my aunt for sticking her nose in my business. I was mad at my teachers for lowering my grades without even giving me a chance to do make-up work. I was mad at my mom for wanting me to one day turn into her. That night I brushed my teeth so hard I almost scrubbed the white off of them.
I didn’t want to go to stupid Mexico to learn the “ways of the old world,” so I could be brainwashed into having lots of babies and running a household. I was already running a household. I had bigger dreams than that. But of course, because I was a girl, what did it matter what my dreams were?
Why didn’t anybody ever take my feelings into consideration?
I was so angry I threw open the bathroom door and crashed right into the chest of my drunkle. I crunched my eyebrows and glared at him. Though I had hardly seen him in three days, I was mad at him too. Even when I was in a good mood, I was always mad at him.
He smiled as if he found my anger funny. At least going away would mean no drunkle for two months. I pushed past him without bothering to say a word. When I walked by, he turned to check out my butt as I jiggled away in my pajamas. I didn’t care. All I wanted was make sure I had packed enough tampons. The thought of using cheap Mexican tampons the whole summer sent a chill up my spine.
Maybe that’s what I’ll bring as a gift for the cousins, I thought as I packed a third box of Playtex into my suitcase. American tampons.
I looked at my plane ticket and wanted to cry, but of course, I held it in. I hated my mom. And obviously, she hated me. There was just one thing left for me to do before I left.
“I know why you’re here,” he said with a big smile when I showed up the next day. “For a Snickers bar and a cup of vegetable soup.”
“Stop calling my house, and go find another girl,” I said in the rudest voice I could muster up. “I’m leaving for the summer.”
“I’ll wait,” he answered, not bothered one bit by the news.
“Didn’t you hear me? I am being sent to Mexico for the entire summer, and when I come back, I am still not going to contact you. Find another girl, Geraldo,” I said. He stood up from stocking bags of doggie treats on the shelf and headed toward the supply room.
A minute later Geraldo brought out Frijolito. As soon as I took the cat in my arms, he began to purr.
“There is no other girl,” Geraldo said as I stroked the cat. “There is only you.”
A tear began to fall down my cheek.
“You don’t even know me,” I said.
“There you are wrong,” Geraldo replied. “I feel as if I have always known you. Now I just wish to know you better.”
He gently wiped the tear from my cheek. I looked up into his shimmering, green eyes. The color was more deep, more dark and soulful than I had ever seen them.
“Know that I will wait,” he said. “For you I will wait a thousand years.”
Geraldo leaned in and gave me a kiss on the cheek. It was tender. I passed Frijolito back to him and headed for the door.
“Don’t,” I said. “Don’t waste your time on me, Geraldo. I’m not worth it.”
And then I left. For Mexico.
chapter diecisiete
I knew things were going to be different the moment Rodrigo and I got
on the plane. Five minutes after takeoff, the stewardess asked us what we wanted to drink. I asked for a Coke. So did Rodrigo.
With rum.
¿Qué? I thought.
I was shocked that he had the nerve to order it. And I was even more shocked that the stewardess brought it for him. Couldn’t she see he was totally below legal drinking age?
“One Coke and rum,” she said with a smile. “That’ll be five dollars.”
“Gracias,” said Rodrigo, taking the drink. Then he reached into his wallet, a red-and-green one that proudly proclaimed Hecho en México on the front, and looked up as if there were a problem. “Pero, I only have a hundred,” he said, flashing two one hundred dollar bills. Rodrigo made a big show of the money, as if he were some kind of international banker or something.
“Lo siento,” said the stewardess. “But I can’t make change for something that big.”
At first, I wasn’t sure where Rodrigo had got all that money. A moment later, I figured it out.
Mi ama had given us each two hundred dollars as spending cash for our trip. Me, I had made sure that I went out and got small bills so that I wouldn’t have a problem paying for things this summer. I turned the twenties she had given me into lots of ones and fives. Rodrigo had gone out and made change too—except he did the opposite and had obviously turned his twenties into hundreds. Ooh, was he sneaky. With bills so big, practically no one where we were going would be able to make change for him.
And that meant Rodrigo could avoid paying for things.
“Ningún problema, beautiful lady,” my brother replied. “Sonia, págale a la mujer. Yo después te pago.”
Huh? I thought. Why was I the stupid one who had to pay? Like my brother was really going to pay me back.
Both of them stared at me, waiting for some cash. I shook my head, reached into my purse, and gave the stewardess a five-dollar bill. Rodrigo’s hand then reached into my wallet and pulled out two additional singles.
“Don’t forget to give her a tip, cheapo,” he said.
The stewardess smiled at Rodrigo with a sexy look in her eye. “I never heard anybody order it as a Coke and rum before,” she commented. “It’s kinda cute.”
The Secret Story of Sonia Rodriguez Page 8