Las Hermanas

by Raedene Jeannette Melin

  He was quiet for a moment. “Where are you going?”

  “The city.”

  “Why?”

  She hesitated. While she didn’t want to lie, the truth was too complicated for him to understand. “Our aunt lives there.”

  “I don’t want to live in the city. I want to live here.”

  The jungle was all Benito knew as he had been a baby when they moved here whereas Adi had grown up in the city. Even though she only vaguely remembered it, it seemed like a dream.

  “That’s why you’re not coming,” she said. “I’m going by myself.”

  Adi stood and waited for him to say something—anything. While she knew she had treated him badly, she hoped he would just brush it aside like he had done so many times before. But when he said nothing else, she knew that this time it was different so she turned and walked away.

  It was barely light out when Adi stepped from the lean-to and into the sticky morning air. Her bag packed and her water container full, she gripped the map in her hand and silently made her way east through the trees. While she had been out on her own before, she never went far, staying close to camp. But as she walked farther away from what was familiar, all her old forgotten fears returned and she could feel her anxiety rising, the uncertainty of what was lurking out there building up in her mind. She was about to step onto a rock that formed a ragged pathway across the river when a hand grabbed her arm.

  Adi whipped around, eyes wide with fear. Benito’s small frame stood before her and she swallowed hard, forcing down the large lump in her throat.

  “Will you come back?”

  Hearing the concern in his voice, she felt relieved. “Yes,” she replied.

  His brow furrowed and he nodded.

  “You’ll be safe here with Rodrigo,” Adi continued. “I’ll be back soon.”

  Benito nodded again and then suddenly stepped forward, wrapping his small arms around her. He held onto her tightly for a moment before he let go and disappeared into the trees.

  •

  She walked for days, starting and ending with the light as she followed the map, hiking over mountains and navigating her way through rivers. It wasn’t the fastest route, but it was the safest as she avoided difficult terrain and most importantly, the villages between her and the city.

  Five days had passed and Adi was beginning to think that she had taken a wrong turn when she heard a noise in the distance. The closer she got, the louder it became, and as soon as the trees thinned out, she saw it.

  The city loomed before her, the heat rising with the clatter and commotion. She saw nothing but brick and mud as the shanties piled on top of each other, the sun glaring off their tin roofs. Dirty and exhausted, she walked down the sloping hill and into the city.

  She was so happy to be there, she almost cried in relief. There were people everywhere; walking along the roads, hanging out on corners, and moving in and out of the stores. Music blared from the rooftops, the songs gently floating down into the streets, weaving into the continuous hum of the neighbourhood. As she inhaled, she almost choked, the sharp smell shocking her nostrils. She had forgotten what it smelled like here—fruit and asphalt baking in the hot sun, overcrowded slums, and humidity that made everything sweat—but she didn’t care. She was out of the jungle and she was free.

  A loud horn broke her from her trance as a car came barreling up behind her, screaming at her to get out of the way. She was in the middle of the street and jumped to the side, the driver swearing at her as he passed. Eager to get where she was headed, she stopped gawking and began walking through the city.

  She had no idea where she was, only that she needed to go north. Approaching a man leaning against a door frame, Adi opened her mouth to ask for directions but before she could get a word out, he went inside and shut the door.

  Over the next hour, she tried to find someone who would help her, but everyone she went up to would tell her to get lost the moment she looked their way. At first she didn’t understand, but when she saw her reflection in a window, she got it. She looked like a street kid, covered head to toe in dirt and sweat. Even her parents had told her to avoid them. “Nothing but trouble,” her mother would say. Not used to the sun’s unrelenting glare, Adi found a shady spot in between two buildings and sat down as she tried to figure out what to do.

  She was resting there, head against the wall, when she spotted something oddly familiar. Jumping up, she ran across the street, pausing only to let a speeding motorcycle pass, and stopped in front of a small store. The building was old, dwarfed by the ones around it, and the bricks were no longer a bright red. But that wasn’t what grabbed Adi’s attention. Two feet above her was a small yellow window, almost unnoticeable as the sun-baked paint was badly peeling off the frame. She remembered that window, having passed it many times on her way to the market with her sister. Finally, she knew where she was.

  Filled with excitement, she headed west towards her old neighbourhood. It took her less than twenty minutes to reach it, but she almost walked straight past, barely recognizing the place she grew up in. Her school was gone, replaced by slums and make-shift houses. Even the empty lot where she used to play football had been developed, the area crammed with as many apartments as possible. When she reached her old home, she couldn’t believe how unfamiliar it looked, the small house now divided into four, with more stacked on top. It was as if her old life had never existed.

  She was looking around the block, unsure of what to do, when she smiled. Running to a house that sat at the end of the street, she knocked on the door and waited.

  As soon as it opened, the smile disappeared and she stood there, staring at the unfamiliar woman in front of her.

  “Yes?” the woman asked irritated, holding a crying baby on her hip as she suspiciously looked Adi up and down.

  “Is Pia here?” she asked meekly, the disappointment coming through her voice.

  “Who?” the woman asked, growing crosser by the second.

  “Pia Diaz.”

  “I don’t know any Pia. Go ask the old woman on the corner.” The door slammed shut.

  Her hopes dashed, Adi walked over to the woman sitting behind a small table of produce on the sidewalk. The woman’s hair was almost completely white, small shimmers of brown barely peeking through, and as Adi approached, she could feel the woman’s watchful eyes.

  “I’m looking for Pia Diaz,” Adi said once she stood in front of her. “Do you know where she is?”

  “Who wants to know?” the old lady asked.

  “She was my friend. She used to live there.” Adi pointed to the house with the woman and the baby.

  The lady nodded. “I remember. They moved out two years back, not long after the explosion.”

  “What explosion?” Adi asked, alarmed.

  “At that factory, just south of here,” she replied. “If I remember right, both Mr. and Mrs. Diaz died in the fire.”

  Adi was quiet, her heart heavy.

  “Wasn’t long after that they got kicked out,” the old woman continued. “Couldn’t pay the rent. Last I heard they were living in the northeast part of the city.”

  Adi frowned as she looked at the ground. She would never find Pia now.

  “Where are your parents?” the woman asked, her sharp voice interrupting Adi’s thoughts.

  Caught off-guard, Adi couldn’t hide the pain on her face and the lady nodded, as if she understood. Quietly reaching down beside her chair, she grabbed a small cloth bundle and handed it to her.

  Tears sprung into her eyes when she saw the homemade food inside and she clutched the fabric to her chest.

  “Where are you going?” the woman asked.

  “My aunt’s,” Adi replied, her voice small. “She lives in the north end.”

  “Here,” the woman said. She slapped some money into her hand. “The bus for the north stops across the street. Next one will be by in a few minutes.”

  Adi didn’t know what to say. It was more than she could ever
ask for and so she simply stood there, unsure of how to properly thank her.

  “Go on,” the old woman said, smiling.

  •

  By the time Adi arrived at her aunt’s, it was almost dark. The bus had brought her north, but not far enough, and it took her over an hour to walk the rest of the way. She had only been to her aunt’s house once before but she found it easily. Unlike the rest of the city, the north end had barely changed at all. Walking onto the familiar street, she smiled. She was finally safe.

  She was about to press the buzzer on the gate when a large security guard came out from the building.

  “Scram,” he said. “You can’t beg here.”

  Startled, Adi cleared her throat. “I’m here to see my aunt.”

  “And who might that be?” he asked.

  “Joselin Soto. She lives in number eight.”

  He hesitated for a moment and then said, “Come with me.”

  Adi followed him behind the gate and into the building where she was seated on a chair against the wall.

  “Stay here,” the guard said. He left and entered a small room off to the side.

  Adi watched as he talked on the phone, smiling as he spoke while a second guard sat inside the room, looking at her with suspicion. A few minutes later, the guard came out.

  “What’s your name?” he asked, standing in front of her, hands on his hips.

  “Adelita Alvarez.”

  “And your parents’?”

  “Mateo and Esperanza.”

  Without another word he turned, went into the room again, and picked up the phone. After a minute, he came back out and simply said, “Wait.”

  About half an hour passed and Adi was curled up in the chair when she woke to the sound of high heels clicking sharply against the concrete floor. Looking up, she saw the security guard walking towards her with her aunt, who was speaking to him quietly. Unable to contain her excitement, Adi stood and ran towards them, wrapping her aunt into a big hug.

  She immediately felt pointed fingernails dig into her arms as they pried her off and pushed her back. Watching her aunt straighten and brush off her clothes, Adi suddenly felt self-conscious. Although she wasn’t tall, Joselin Soto was an intimidating woman. Her hair was perfect, large dark curls falling softly down onto her shoulders, and her face was flawless, lips full and red. Her neatly-pressed clothes hung from her body like they were made only for her and Adi could see that even her feet were impeccable, brightly painted toenails peeking out from her white high-heels. Looking at her made Adi feel gross and so she quickly tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

  “It’s me, Adi,” she said. Her aunt remained silent, looking at her intently.

  “Miguel,” Joselin said finally, addressing the guard. “Is there somewhere we can talk privately?”

  “Of course, Mrs. Soto. Please, come with me.”

  Adi followed them down the short hallway and into a windowless room that contained only a table and two chairs.

  “Sit,” the guard instructed.

  Adi did as she was told and waited as her aunt sat across from her, the guard closing the door as he left.

  “Do you remember me?” Adi asked when her aunt said nothing. “We came to visit you after Benito was born.”

  Joselin was quiet, a strained look on her face. “Why are you here?”

  Adi didn’t understand why her aunt was acting so unfriendly. “I have nowhere else to go.”

  “You should go home,” Joselin said. “Your parents will be wondering where you are.”

  “They’re dead,” Adi said bluntly. Why would her aunt say such a thing? Why else would she be here?

  Her response caught Joselin by surprise and Adi watched as a mixed look of shock and pain passed over her face for a brief moment before it disappeared.

  She sighed deeply. “I told your mother what would happen if she went into the jungle,” she said, more to herself than to Adi. She turned her attention back to her. “Actions have consequences. You can’t run off playing revolutionary without expecting repercussions.”

  Confused by her aunt’s response, Adi remained silent.

  “Now I’m left to pick up the pieces,” Joselin was mumbling to herself, arms crossed as she looked at the wall. When she finally returned her attention back to Adi, she was angry. “What am I going to do with you? I mean, look at you. You’re filthy and look like you haven’t washed in months. Do you even know how to behave properly, in a civilized manner?”

  Hurt by her words, Adi sat there, her eyes hot and welling with tears.

  “What am I supposed to do?” her aunt continued. “Just let you into my home and run rampant over my life?”

  By now the tears were running freely down her face, but Adi didn’t bother wiping them away. This was not what she expected. She thought her aunt would be happy to see her.

  “There’s no need to be dramatic,” her aunt scolded. “Tears never helped anyone.”

  It was more than Adi could take. “Why won’t you help me?”

  Joselin said nothing for a minute as she avoided Adi’s gaze. “It’s not that I don’t want to,” she said eventually. “I just can’t. You don’t belong here. You should go back to wherever you came from.”

  In silent despair, Adi struggled to understand, but there was nothing to confuse; her aunt wanted nothing to do with her.

  “I know this may be hard to accept right now, but I’m doing you a favour. You need to learn how to survive on your own, like everyone else.”

  Chapter Five

  Not knowing where else to go, Adi took the bus back down to her old neighborhood. She hoped that the old woman on the corner would still be there, but when she arrived, the lady and her stand were gone.

  The city felt different as the daylight faded away. She had never been out on the streets at night and as she walked, her father’s warning to be home before dark rang through her head. Seeing a group of boys coming towards her, she turned and went the other way.

  Adi wandered through the city for a while, not knowing what to do or where to go. Her feet ached from walking, but too afraid to sit down on the street, she kept going. She continued on for a few more hours before she stopped in an alley, the throbbing in her legs too painful to ignore.

  Tucking herself into a small corner against the wall, she was happy just to sit, not caring that the ground was hard and cold. Unwrapping the cloth bundle, she devoured the food and before she knew it, she drifted off to sleep.

  Hands running all over her body jarred her awake, but as she sat up from her slumped position, the feeling of steel biting into her throat stopped her instantly.

  “Hold still,” the boy said as he crouched beside her.

  Adi tried to keep calm as she watched two others rifle through her bag.

  “Holy shit!” one of them exclaimed as he stood up. “Look at all this money!”

  She had forgotten about the bills her aunt had shoved in her pocket.

  “How much?” the boy holding the knife asked, clearly in charge.

  “Like $60!”

  “You got any more?” he asked Adi, his eyes staring at her from underneath his hood.

  “No.”

  Once they were done, the knife was removed from her throat and the three of them stood there looking at her.

  “Whadda we do with her?” one of them asked.

  “Nothin’,” the tallest boy answered. “She doesn’t know us.”

  “We could sell her to El Monstruo,” the other one suggested.

  “Look at her. She’s ugly and smells funny. Not even El Monstruo would want her.” His answer sent them into a fit of laughter.

  “Most of its just dirt,” the small one replied, taking a step closer towards her. “Besides, I seen what he does with ugly girls. Cuts ‘em up and makes ‘em pretty. We could get somethin’ for her.”

  “No,” the tall boy replied, his tone final. “Let’s go.”

  As soon as they left, Adi stopped holding her breath, the
air rushing from her mouth. She didn’t know whether she should be shocked or mad. She should’ve known better than to sleep on the ground. If she was going to survive, she needed to be smarter, no matter how tired she was. Not wasting another minute, she grabbed her now empty pack, shoved it under her shirt, and walked out of the alley and back into the street.

  She moved quickly, trying to be as unnoticeable as possible as she went farther into the city. While the streets weren’t busy, they were still active as shadowed figures slunk around, often not making a sound. While the odd shout or burst of bottles breaking would cut through the silence, Adi didn’t stop for anything. By the time daylight began to seep between the buildings, her body shuddered in relief.

  She was looking for a safe place to sleep when a familiar smell grabbed her. Her stomach grumbled as she followed the delicious aroma, winding eagerly through the streets. She didn’t have to go far to find the small local market just opening for the morning.

  She hadn’t realized how hungry she was but as she stared at the basket of hot empanadas sizzling on top of the table, her stomach growled so loudly she was afraid someone might hear. She stood there for a moment, her mouth watering with anticipation, when she remembered she didn’t have any money. Dejected, she turned to leave, but as she did, her gaze landed on a group of kids entering the square.

  From a few feet away, Adi watched as they ran through the thickening crowd, darting in and out as they stealthily grabbed some food here and someone’s wallet there.

  You could do that, a small voice inside her suggested.

  Adi shook her head. She wasn’t a thief.

  Just this once, the voice prodded, louder this time. How else are you going to eat?

  Adi was trying to come up with an answer when her eyes landed on the empanadas again. Her mouth was watering so much she had to swallow, making her stomach clench unhappily. She couldn’t take it anymore, the pang of hunger overwhelming, and she walked towards the tables.

  Having never stolen anything before, she tried to mimic the kids, quickly moving in and out of the crowd, but as she approached the empanadas, she heard an angry voice behind her.