Wish Upon a Stray

by Yamile Saied Méndez

  As always, Papi got caught unawares and yawned loudly right after me, and we all laughed.

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “Getting here has been an odyssey.”

  Mrs. Campbell looked at me, and her eyes softened. “I’m sorry about your luggage.”

  A pang in my chest at the thought of my lost suitcase made my eyes tear up.

  “Oh,” Mrs. Campbell said, brushing my head with soft fingers. Her fair skin was speckled with freckles, and her smudged eyeliner made her green eyes look mossy and tired. It must have been a long day for her too. She continued. “I know your luggage will turn up. It always does. There’s food in the fridge, and like I said, tomorrow morning I’ll be here to help your dad sign you up for school. Hopefully you’ll meet my granddaughter, Tirzah. She was actually here waiting for you with her friends, but they had to head back home.”

  “I think we saw them on our way here,” Mami said.

  “Most likely,” she said. “Now … the Wi-Fi should be set up; the info will be on the router. What else can I do for you?”

  “You’ve done enough, Montserrat. Thank you,” Mami said.

  “Thank you for everything,” Papi and I echoed.

  Mami and Papi walked Mrs. Campbell to her car. I nabbed an apple from a basket on the counter and turned to really take in the house.

  The whole interior looked like a mountain cabin, with exposed ceiling beams and log walls. Quaint white curtains hung on the bottom half of the windows. It wasn’t new by any means, but it smelled of fresh paint and sawdust. By the paint splatters around the baseboards, it seemed like it had been recently renovated.

  My brothers had found a brand-new soccer ball and were kicking it back and forth in the kitchen. Mrs. Campbell, Montserrat like my mom had called her, must have left it for them. How nice of her!

  “Careful, boys. You don’t want to break anything,” I warned.

  “Mimilia, stop worrying!” Francisco exclaimed. “Why don’t you go see the rest of the house? There’s three bathrooms!”

  “Three bathrooms?”

  “Go see for yourself,” Mateo challenged me.

  I suspected they wanted to get rid of me so I wouldn’t nag them about playing inside the house, but I was curious and left them to explore.

  Much of the ground floor was taken up by a big, open living room, with a soaring ceiling of wooden beams like I’d never seen before.

  Down the hallway, the first bedroom I came across was also the biggest, which I assumed would be my parents’. Attached right to the bedroom was a large bathroom with two sinks and a bathtub.

  En suite flashed into my mind.

  Who knew all these strange words were waiting to jump to the spotlight as soon as I needed them?

  We didn’t have a bathtub at Lela’s house, and I already imagined myself soaking in a bubble bath every night.

  Excited, I ran out to see the room we’d be sharing. But when I found the second-biggest bedroom only featured two twin beds, I wondered where I’d sleep. I hadn’t really thought about it before, but now I couldn’t wait to find out.

  I ran to the end of the hallway, and there was one of the other bathrooms Francisco had told me about. It only had a toilet and sink and was right next to a door that led outside, to a driveway. Maybe one day soon we’d have a car.

  Mateo came up to me and took my hand. “Your room is upstairs, Mimilia. Come on, I’ll show you.”

  I took his little hand and followed him up a set of wooden stairs. The dark glass on the windows gave the light a yellowish tint in which I saw dust dancing in spirals like fairy dust.

  Finally, we arrived in an enormous space—an attic—with three big windows on one wall that framed the mountains, majestic and red with the glow of the setting sun. On the opposite wall was a round window and the willow tree waving hello.

  A bed sat in a corner with a pretty pink-and-yellow duvet, and a small nightstand with a lamp in the shape of an elephant. A lamb’s wool rug lay next to the bed. The wooden floors gleamed, and I detected the orange scent of wood polish.

  “You have your own bathroom,” Mateo said.

  The sound of rapid footsteps preceded Francisco. “You’re the luckiest!” he exclaimed, and plopped on my bed.

  I started singing with joy, “I’m the luckiest, yes, I know …”

  Until I saw his shoes left a black smudge on the duvet.

  “Hey! Take your shoes off at least,” I said, but he just grinned at me.

  More footsteps announced Mami and Papi joining us in my room.

  “Wow!” Papi said, his arms stretched out and turning in a big circle. “Look at you, pajarita! A perfect perch for my songbird.”

  I hugged him tightly. His blue polo shirt still smelled of Mendoza sunshine, and I inhaled deeply so I would never forget this scent.

  He put his other arm around Mami, and my brothers, not wanting to be left out of the group hug, joined us too, quieted by our emotion.

  My luggage was lost, but we had each other.

  When the emotion was threatening to make me cry, Francisco’s stomach growled. We all laughed.

  “I’m hungry!” he said.

  “In that case, let’s go get a snack,” Papi announced, and as the boys ran for the stairs, he said, “Although soon we’ll have to adjust to the different mealtimes. People here eat at seven or so.”

  “Earlier!” Mami exclaimed. “I’m not joking,” she added when we laughed again. My brothers and I looked at each other in disbelief.

  “Until then, let’s have some mate and a snack, and then showers for everyone!”

  I lingered behind to peek into my bathroom. To my surprise, there was another bathtub. A bathtub just for me! The bathroom had a little window from where I could see the highway and traffic zooming by.

  I had expected we’d live in an apartment, not a house so beautiful and cozy!

  As I bounded happily to the bottom of the stairs, someone knocked on the front door.

  “Who can it be?” Mateo asked, alarmed.

  “Maybe Mrs. Campbell forgot something,” Francisco added, running to be the first one at the door.

  “Wait,” Papi said as Mami lengthened her step to get to the door before my eager brother. “Remember, Francisco, we still have the same rules as in Mendoza, you understand?”

  Mami opened the door to reveal a large group of people on the porch. “Welcome!” they exclaimed in unison.

  The rest of my family and I looked at each other smiling, and Mami replied, “Thank you!”

  “Hello! We’re the Bodens,” said a slender woman about Mami’s age, holding a tiny baby in her arms. She had light brown hair with highlights and an open, beautiful smile. Blond and blue-eyed, the man next to her was the tallest person I’d ever seen. A girl about my age looked just like her father but with darker hair, and a crowd of boys looked exactly like their mom, minus the long pink nails.

  “We live right across the street,” the woman continued. “There have been contractors working on the house for weeks, and today we saw the shuttle from the airport. We wanted to introduce ourselves.”

  At a sign from her, one of the boys, who must have been around ten, handed Mami a plate of cookies.

  “How nice of you! Thank you! We’re the Soler family,” Mami said, and introduced each one of us. I gave a little wave when she said my name.

  “Forgive us if it takes us a little while to learn your names. We don’t speak Spanish, but I speak Russian and Stacy speaks Mandarin Chinese,” Mr. Boden said.

  Mrs. Boden blushed. “I don’t really speak it anymore.”

  “She volunteers in the Chinese immersion program,” he countered with a wink.

  My family listened in silence, and I wondered if they too were listening as attentively as possible to catch every word.

  Mrs. Boden—Stacy—went on to introduce their family. The father was Scott, and the baby Lilly Ann. There were so many siblings that I couldn’t catch all the boys’ names. I understood what the dad had s
aid about needing a little time to learn our names. I’d need time to learn theirs too.

  Seven kids. Seven! Including the girl who seemed to be my age. When she smiled shyly, I saw colorful braces on her teeth.

  “This is Ashley Jane, our eldest. She’s going into seventh grade,” Mr. Boden said.

  My heart fell. It would’ve been nice to be in the same grade with a neighbor. “I’m going into high school,” I said.

  Mrs. Boden cocked her head to the side for a second and narrowed her eyes. “You look small for your age.”

  Not knowing what to say to that, I shrugged. I was average for my age back home, but compared to the neighbors I felt tiny.

  “Anyway, nice to meet you, Ashley Shane,” I said, and stepped toward the girl to kiss her on the cheek.

  “Whoa, whoa,” Ashley Jane said, putting her hand up. “Hello is enough. And it’s Ashley Jane. With a j, not a shh sound.”

  My face went up in flames. “I’m sorry,” I said. “I always have a hard time with the j.” I still said it shay, and at the sound of my voice, my eyes prickled with embarrassment.

  The lyric Why you gotta be so mean? rang in my mind.

  I glanced at Mami, but she and Mrs. Boden were talking about the schools in the area. Apparently, the local elementary had a Spanish immersion program, in addition to Chinese.

  Soon, everyone in my family had clicked with someone from the neighbors. Papi and Mr. Boden talked about the internet service. My brothers were talking with two Boden boys who looked identical, except one was a little taller than the other.

  When I looked at Ashley Jane, racking my brain for something clever to say, she folded her arms.

  I kept smiling even though I was so confused and, honestly, a little hurt. I hadn’t meant to offend her. I was only being friendly.

  To stop myself from crying in front of our new neighbors, I turned toward the conversation between Papi and Mr. Boden.

  “The Jensens lived here for generations,” Mr. Boden was saying. “We were a little surprised they agreed to rent the house outside the family circle. They were always a bit particular about the house. For years, they refused to get internet wiring. I know where they’re coming from,” he continued. “The house is a historical building after all.”

  All of a sudden, the house that had seemed so inviting and cozy turned into a fancy artifact. What would happen if my brothers broke a window playing fútbol inside the house, or I spilled something on the carpet?

  “I’m glad they changed their minds!” Papi said with a relieved smile. “We love this house already, and we’re all eager to stay in touch with our loved ones back home. That’s not possible without the internet.” I noticed that Papi’s words were a little stiffer than usual, as if he wanted to make sure they came out as clearly as possible.

  “Where’s home?” Mrs. Boden asked.

  “Argentina,” I said in a soft voice.

  The adults started talking about Argentina. Ashley Jane yawned loudly, and the baby started fussing.

  “We better go,” Mrs. Boden said. “Lilly Ann’s hungry.” The Bodens said goodbye, and I tried to catch Ashley Jane’s eye before they walked back across the street, but she never looked in my direction.

  My parents chatted excitedly as they walked back in the house, and my brothers and I lingered on the porch for a moment.

  “Wow!” Francisco said. “They’re super nice!”

  “How about we try the cookies?” Mateo asked, and ran inside.

  Francisco followed him, and as I was about to trail behind them, I caught my third peek of the little tan dog. It didn’t look like it had a collar. Was it a dog that belonged to the whole neighborhood? In our barrio in Mendoza, there were lots of community cats and dogs. The dog saw me too, and we stood looking at each other for a few minutes. I took a step toward it, and it tore off toward the bushes.

  “Mimilia, come in! Food!” Mateo shouted.

  I ran inside.

  The smell of ripe peaches led me back to the fruit bowl in the kitchen. I opted for the soft, fuzzy fruit instead of cookies like my brothers. Juice ran down my chin, and I quickly wiped it with the back of my shirt.

  Then I remembered this was my only shirt until my luggage arrived.

  Mami shook her head at me as she pulled food from the fridge. Mrs. Campbell had been so thoughtful. I barely registered what I ate, I was so hungry—and because as soon as she’d grabbed a snack, Mami took her laptop out of her backpack to call Lela. The five of us gathered around the computer as the Wi-Fi bars flickered in. Mami signed in to her account.

  My heart pounded with each ring.

  As soon as I saw Lela’s face on the computer screen, my chin started quivering. Her eyes were watery too, but her smile was radiant.

  I had seen her—what?—thirty hours ago? But it felt like a lifetime. I wished I could hug her.

  “We made it safe and sound,” Papi said.

  “Except for Mimilia’s luggage,” Francisco added, with a look of pity in my direction.

  Mami and Papi took turns updating her on everything that had happened since we said goodbye.

  “The neighbors are fantastic!” Mami said.

  “And look at the kitchen!” Francisco exclaimed. “We have a microwave and a dishwasher! Look, Lela!”

  “Don’t forget to show her the dryer! It actually dries the clothes, Lela; it doesn’t just wring them out!” Mateo said, sounding like those salesmen on late-night TV.

  With Papi’s help, my brothers carried the computer around so Lela could see every detail of our new house, from the bathrooms to the views from each window. The clock on the microwave blinked 9:00 p.m. and the sky was still lavender.

  Lela was the best audience. She gasped at all the right things and clapped and celebrated when she heard they’d already become best friends with two of the Boden boys, whose names were Henry and John-William.

  When we reached my room in the attic, Lela said, “Now, boys, you’ve been the best tour guides. Let me talk to María Emilia for a little bit.”

  I looked at Papi, and he winked at me and said, “You heard Lela, boys. Let’s give the girls some space.”

  After some protesting, the boys stomped all the way back to the main floor. Papi kissed the top of my head. “I’ll be nearby if you need me.”

  I didn’t know what he meant. Of course he’d be nearby. Downstairs. But when I looked at him, he only smiled at me and followed the boys.

  Finally in peace, Lela took a deep breath and said, “I’m so glad to see all the blessings you have, Mimilia. Your family. This new house. Your mom’s new job. This opportunity. I want you to remember them because I have to tell you some sad news.”

  My mind went silent, and my whole body tingled as I braced myself. But her expression was heartbreaking, so I promised myself that no matter what she told me, I wouldn’t cry in front of her.

  “Yesterday, Estrellita crossed the rainbow bridge to cat heaven. When I came home from the airport, she was already gone.” Her voice rang in my ears and made them hurt.

  It took a moment for the words to make their way to my brain so I could understand them. And when I did, there was no music to help me through the pain. Just two words: Estrellita’s gone!

  “Gone? As in, she left?” I asked. “Maybe she went out through the window in the laundry room again, Lela. Did you check?” A knot of tears grew in my throat. I knew there was no hope.

  Lela dried her cheeks with a handkerchief, one that Celestina had made.

  “I found her in her bed, curled like a little fur ball. She looked like she was sleeping,” Lela said. “It’s like she was waiting for you to leave before she could leave too.”

  I swallowed, but the knot in my throat wouldn’t go away. Slowly, I sank onto the side of the bed and gently placed the laptop beside me, Lela’s wide, kind eyes blurry across the connection.

  The night Lela gave me the binder with Celestina’s letters, I promised her I’d try to make the best of my situation becau
se it was an opportunity, a chance for a better life, not a punishment. Lela expected me to rise above this, losing my cat without saying a final goodbye. But I realized that I had wasted the wish from the shooting star I’d seen that night. I had kept it for the future, thinking that everyone I loved would always be there waiting for me to come back one day. And now Estrellita was gone.

  Downstairs, I heard the sound of someone knocking on the door, and I came out of the swirl of emotions. Through the window, I could see that it was finally dark. This day had been the longest in my life.

  On the other side of the screen, a world away, Lela looked at me, wrapped in her colorful shawl, waiting for me to collect myself.

  “I’m sorry you’re all alone, Lela,” I said with a shuddering breath.

  Lela shook her head. “What are you talking about? Don’t I have you in front of me right now? And believe it or not, I feel Estrellita’s presence everywhere in the house. Those we love are never far, mi amor.”

  I knew she was trying to help me feel better, but the distance felt so cruel. I wanted to hug her and mourn the loss of our friend together.

  “Now, let me speak with your mami, please,” Lela said. “See you tomorrow?”

  “See you tomorrow, Lela. Tell Violeta I say hello. Te quiero.”

  “Te quiero, Mimilia.”

  I went downstairs, carrying the computer carefully because today had already included too many earth-shattering events for a lifetime. We couldn’t afford to lose the only bridge to our family back home.

  The kitchen was quiet, and I realized that my brothers must have fallen asleep although it wasn’t even ten p.m. A first.

  Mami was writing in her journal on the kitchen counter, and I wondered how she’d felt the last few hours, and if she was nervous about her first day at her new job tomorrow.

  When she saw me, she gave me a sad smile and rose from her stool. “Are you okay?” she asked. I saw on her face how much she wanted to fix everything for me.

  “You knew?”

  She nodded. “Lela texted me when we were boarding the flight to Miami. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you then.”