Nilda (10 page)

“… so your mother had to send you to a Catholic camp. Well, look what happened. The place was falling apart, eh? What do they do with the money? Spend it on themselves. Well, no more. And even when I go back to work and I make extra money, I will not give it to your mamá to send you to no Catholic school for bullshit propaganda.”

“Papá, next time you go to a meeting, will you take me?”

“You better ask your mamá. She told me she doesn't want you to come along anymore, so if you want to come, you better ask. I'm tired of arguments. She says my friends don't believe in God, so you can't go no more.”

“Do they believe in God?”

“What God? Nilda, did you ever see Him? I never talk to Him. I never see Him. I don't believe in nothing I can't see or talk to.”

“Mamá says faith is a very powerful thing, and that if you have faith, you can feel Him.”

“Is that so? Well now, I know what I feel. I only feel tired, happy, sad, an urge to make a caca, sometimes constipated and, too many times, hungry.” Pausing and looking at his captured audience, he asked, “And what do you feel?”

“Hungry too.” Nilda broke into a big smile. “I wonder if supper is ready.” Jumping up she said, “I'll go see.” She heard her stepfather chuckle as she left the room.

In the living room Nilda saw Aunt Delia seated in the large armchair, talking in Spanish to Sophie. Sophie was seated on a small chair next to the old woman. The
Daily News
was spread out on Aunt Delia's lap and she was pointing to a picture in the middle section of the paper. She was speaking rapidly to Sophie, who agreed with everything Aunt Delia said by nodding her head, since she did not understand a word of Spanish.

“Mira, mira,” said the old woman, and she began to read in English, “Two masked gunmen entered the bank and at gunpoint made everyone keep still while they forced the bank tellers to give them the ready cash.” Pausing, she added, “¡Qué barbaridad!” and sucked in her lips. “They fled, only to be pursued by a patrol car. In a shoot-out battle a few blocks from the bank, the police killed one man and seriously wounded the other.” Shaking her head and smacking her lips, she went on, “One policeman was also wounded and taken to Bellevue Hospital where he is reported to be in good condition. The men have been identified as Howard …”

Nilda walked into the kitchen. “Mamá, is the food ready?”

“Yes, Nilda, you can eat in just a few minutes with Frankie, Paul and Victor. Then I'll serve Sophie, Aunt Delia and Papá. I'll eat with them.” In the small kitchen they ate in shifts, usually four at a time. “Nilda, you have to go with Sophie tomorrow, after Mass, to see her mother.”

“Her mother?” Nilda asked. Surprised, she went on, “Are you coming too?”

“No. Victor will take you and Sophie and the baby to the building where her mother lives. She has agreed to make up with her mamá. It's the right thing to do. Baby Jimmy is her grandchild too, and she should know about it. It's wrong to keep it from her. Sophie is her only child and this woman is a widow, so it's only right.”

“Does she want to go?”

“She agreed.”

“I'll bet you she doesn't want to go, the way she says her mother is.”

“Well, it's already settled, so that's that.”

Nilda sat down on a chair uneasily and said, “I don't wanna go, Mamá. Besides, remember? I'm supposed to go to Benji's church tomorrow. Petra and Marge are coming too. They are
gonna have a big service with music and food and a whole big thing. I won't have time.”

“You will be back in time to go with your friends. You will have plenty of time.”

“Why do I have to go? Send Frankie. Why me? It's always me. Anyway, if Victor is coming, why do I have to go?”

“You have to go because you are Jimmy's sister and another girl. It's right that you go.”

“Can't you come too?”

“No.”

“Why?”

“Never mind. Nilda, you are going to accompany Sophie to see her mother and that's all. You have to go. After, I will meet her too.”

After a short silence, Nilda asked, “Is Baby Jimmy gonna leave and go live there?”

Her mother, busy stirring a large steaming pot with a long wooden ladle, said, “Maybe. But only for a little while, until after the investigator comes. We are not supposed to have Sophie and the baby living here.”

“Can't Sophie go and we keep the baby, Mamá?”

“Nilda, don't be foolish; he's Sophie's baby. Anyway, Jimmy will come home soon and they will have their own apartment.” Her mother turned and saw that Nilda was brooding. She asked, “Don't you want your old room back, with your bed by the window? First you were mad and now you don't know what it is you want.”

“I know that I don't want the baby to leave!” she said, almost at the point of tears.

“Stop being silly; nobody's going to leave so soon anyway.”

Nilda continued to sit, feeling miserable. The thought of Sophie's mother scared her. Sophie had said her mother hated her and would never forgive her. When she kicked Sophie out,
she had told her never to come back. Oh boy, Nilda thought, I'm not going to stand too close to that lady. She looked out the window. It was a cold and dreary grey day. She remembered that it might snow tonight.

“If I get Paul to take us, can I go to the park tonight?”

“We'll see how late it is. I don't want a bunch of kids in the park alone at night.”

Screwing up her nose, sucking in her cheeks and crossing her eyes, Nilda made a horrible face. Her mother looked at her and said, “Nilda, you are a nice-looking girl, but if you keep making those ugly faces, one day your face is gonna freeze and you will grow up as ugly as a toad.”

“If I can go to the park, I promise I will not make anymore faces, Mamá.”

Smiling, her mother said, “Suit yourself, but I don't change my mind. Now go get your brothers; it's time to eat.”

“All right.” Nilda reluctantly stood up and slowly walked out. As she went through the living room, Aunt Delia was still reading the paper. This time she was alone. She moved her lips, shaking her head and uttering sounds of shock and outrage.

T
he wind was strong, sharp and cold as they walked toward First Avenue near the East River. Sophie held Baby Jimmy; he was wrapped up in several blankets. At first Nilda thought he would suffocate, but now, with the cold sharp wind on her face, she wished she had a few blankets herself. Victor walked alongside Sophie and the baby.

“How many more blocks, Victor?”

“Just about two. We're almost there.”

“Are you gonna come up with us, Victor?”

“Will you stop asking so many questions, Nilda!” he snapped. Oh boy, he's not too happy about going either, she thought. Her brother Victor was quiet and serious by nature. Even though Jimmy was the oldest, they all looked to Victor for advice. He very often made decisions and was respected as the older brother. Her mother would say, “I can always count on my Victor. Thank God for such a son.” He was in his senior year in high school and was a very good student. Nilda would brag about him to her friends. “He's real smart,” she'd say, “always reading books and always in the library. He got the highest mark in his whole class. When he graduates, he's going to go to college someplace and be something big, like a lawyer or even a bookkeeper. You know, something like that. Mami says he's not going to be a sucketa working in no factory.”

Nilda walked along, too cold to worry about the visit and anxious to reach there and get warm. At last they approached a grey tenement. The building was narrow, four stories high and old- and worn-looking, resembling all the other buildings in the area. They walked up the stoop steps and into the small foyer.
Nilda felt the warmth as she trembled, shaking off the coldness from the outside. “Man, it's cold out,” she said.

Sophie stood there holding the baby. Nilda began reading the names on the mailboxes on both sides of the walls. She read silently, Zapatoki, Stasik, Jahelka, Brozyna, Lapinski.… Some of the names were hard to read. Not one Spanish name, she thought. The hallway was as empty as the cold streets outside.

“I guess you better wait down here, Victor. My mother might think you are Jimmy and get real angry,” Sophie said, looking at Victor. “But once I'm inside, I'll send Nilda down to come get you,” she added with embarrassment and looked away. She stood still awhile and began to bite the corners of her lips, first biting the right corner and then the left. “Okay, we might as well go on up,” she said, smiling despite a frightened look in her eyes.

Nilda followed Sophie through the hallway and up the stairs. A strong odor of cooked cabbage permeated the hallway. She could hear the hall radiator hissing as the warm steam escaped into the stale air.

“Is it a long way up?” whispered Nilda.

“It's the top floor, three more flights,” Sophie answered, also in a whisper. They continued to climb the narrow stairway. The floor was covered with dark green linoleum that had just been washed clean. A slight odor of disinfectant, mingled with the odor of cooked cabbage, made Nilda a little faint.

“One more, Nilda, then we'll be there.” Sophie stopped and rested against the wall, holding little Jimmy who slept soundly. Catching her breath, she started up again. They reached the last landing and walked up to a narrow, dark brown door with the number 15 printed in black. Standing in front of the door for a second, she handed the baby to Nilda and said in a barely audible whisper, “Here, take him for a minute.” She smoothed out her coat and straightened her hair. Reaching down, she picked
up the infant again. Holding the baby, she pushed the small bell on the right-hand side of the door.

Nilda heard a short ring sound at the other side of the door and then a dog bark. The dog, jumping at the door, began to bark loudly. Nilda ran back toward the stairway.

“Don't be scared, Nilda; that's Queenie, my dog.” Smiling, she seemed to gain confidence as the dog continued to bark, and rang the bell again, this time more forcefully. “Queenie, it's Sophie. How's the girl? Queenie?” The dog began to yelp, cry and whine. Sophie laughed nervously and handed the baby back to Nilda. “Take him, Nilda. He's sleeping, so hold him still.”

They heard footsteps on the other side of the wall; the footsteps came all the way up to the door and stopped. A voice from inside said, “Who is it? Who's there?” The dog stopped her whining and it got quiet. “Who is it? Anybody out there?”

“Mama? Mama, it's me, Sophie.” Silence followed. “Mama?” The dog started a low crying and whining. “Mama, it's me, Sophie. Can I come in?” After a short silence they heard the footsteps disappearing somewhere inside the locked apartment. Nilda was beginning to tire and the baby was stirring, so she carefully leaned against the wall, trying to ease the weight.

They heard a noise; the door next to them, with the number 16, opened. For an instant Nilda could see a face on the other side of the door chain. Then someone slammed it shut. Sophie put her finger to the bell and pressed it for a long time. The dog began to bark loudly once again. They heard the footsteps coming back toward the door. Getting very close to the door, Sophie placed her mouth over the lock and said, “Mama, it's me, Sophie, and my baby. Mama? I have a baby, your grandson. It's a boy. His name is James. I brought him to meet you, to meet his grandmother. Can we come in? Mama?”

“Who is there? What do you want?” the voice from inside asked.

“Mama.…” Nilda heard Sophie talking in another language. Her voice was steady at first, then it began to crack. She was crying but she continued to speak. “Mama” was all Nilda could make out. Sophie seemed to be pleading. She stopped and waited for a response, then continued to speak, crying and pleading. Nilda could not understand a word of what she said. Sophie stopped talking and waited, quietly sobbing.

The voice inside answered loudly in English. It was a woman's voice, strong, and with an accent. She pronounced the words very clearly. “Who is this? Sophie, you say. I don't know anybody by that name. My Sophie, my daughter, is dead. She died. She run off with a nigger and now she's dead. He poisoned her. You are mistaken. I don't have no daughter no more. You got the wrong house. Go away to another place; maybe they know you there.”

“Mama! Maaamaaa!”

Startled, Nilda heard a shriek as Sophie lifted both her hands and began to hit the door, shoving her weight against it. “Maaama! Maaama!” Sophie kept screaming between sobs, almost choking as she shrieked out to her mother. “Maaaaama!”

Nilda felt little Jimmy jump up in her arms and begin to cry. People opened doors, muttering, then slammed them shut again. The baby was crying steadily now.

They heard the woman from inside the apartment shouting, “Get out! I'll call the police. Go away. Go someplace with those people who killed my daughter. The niggers. Go there. My daughter is dead, gone, finished. No more. I call the police!”

Sophie had her face buried in her hands, sobbing. Lifting her head she looked at Nilda, her face streaked with tears and her nose wet with mucus. Wiping her nose on her sleeve, she said, “Let's go.” Baby Jimmy was still crying. She took him from Nilda. Turning around just before going down the steps, Sophie yelled, “Remember, Mama, remember I'm dead, dead, dead!” She went
down the stairs swiftly. Nilda followed, almost running, frightened, her heart pounding as she thought of the lady in the apartment. She wanted to run all the way home and back to her own mother. She was glad the lady had not opened the door.

Victor was waiting, standing in the outside doorway, rubbing his hands together to keep warm. He looked uneasy. Nilda noticed the look of shock and concern on her brother's face as he looked at Sophie and the baby. “What happened?” he asked. “I heard some shouting.” Sophie was absentmindedly rocking the baby, who had stopped crying. She opened her mouth to speak but began to cry. “Here, Sophie,” said Victor, “I'll take him. I'll carry him home.” He reached over and took the baby from her. She cried quietly, continuing to cover her face with her hands. They walked out of the building and began to walk home. Victor handed her a handkerchief and she held it up to her face. He looked at Nilda inquiringly.