Nilda (14 page)

“Who?” Aunt Delia asked.

“Mrs. Wood,” her mother answered loudly.

“Nice to meet you, Mrs. Rivera,” Mrs. Wood said pleasantly. Aunt Delia gave her a broad friendly smile, exposing her gums. Then, with a serious expression, she said in Spanish, “It's
a crime what's happening to the world today. Somebody is always getting raped. Listen,” she went on rapidly, “it's a daily occurrence with the sex maniacs always attacking innocent women. They are the ones responsible for the war. Oh, yes. They are! Would you like to see it right here in the paper? Let me—”

“Delia!” her mother interrupted. “This lady is not interested. She's the investigator! Not now. That's enough!”

“What did she say? What did you say, Mrs. Ramírez?” Mrs. Wood asked.

Before her mother could reply, Aunt Delia said, “She can read, can't she? She looks like an educated person. Lydia, let me show her here right here in this article. There's a picture even. Wait!” and the old woman started to open up the
Daily News.

“What's that, Mrs. Ramírez? What is she saying in Spanish? What is she trying to tell me?” Mrs. Wood asked, perplexed.

Her mother smiled at Mrs. Wood. Making an effort to sound matter-of-fact, she said, “It's nothing, Mrs. Wood. My aunt can't hear too good.” Walking over to Aunt Delia, her mother slowly picked up the
Daily News
and folded the paper, giving it to Aunt Delia. “Not now. Dear God!” She went on quietly but firmly in Spanish, “I have to talk to this woman. Please, Delia, go inside.” Reluctantly Aunt Delia accepted the newspaper.

“Is she trying to tell me something, Mrs. Ramírez?” Mrs. Wood asked, very curious by this time. “I think I should know what it is.”

“She's just nervous about the things she reads in the newspapers, that's all,” her mother said softly to Mrs. Wood. Aunt Delia was still standing, holding the newspaper in her hand and frowning at the two women.

Turning toward Aunt Delia, so that Mrs. Wood could not see her face, her mother looked at Aunt Delia, opened her eyes wide, gritted her teeth and said in Spanish, “Delia, get the hell outta here right now!” Turning back to Mrs. Wood, she said, “You see,
Mrs. Wood, she's just a little nervous. You know how the newspapers are full of crime these days and all that. She's old and she worries about things like that.”

Aunt Delia started to walk briskly out, but turned back just before leaving. Looking suspiciously at Mrs. Wood for a moment, she winked and said, pointing, “I'll bet you knew about it all the time, but wouldn't let on.” Chuckling and mumbling to herself, Aunt Delia left the room.

“What's that?” Mrs. Wood asked.

“She just said it was nice meeting you, Mrs. Wood, and you should be careful in the streets.”

“Oh, yes, well, how sweet. You can't be too careful these days.” There was a short pause and Mrs. Wood said, “Well now, you know, I have to see the apartment and look around. Just routine, I'm sure you understand.”

Nilda looked at her mother, who didn't say anything, and wondered, When is she going to tell her about Sophie and Baby Jimmy?

“Mrs. Wood, this here is my daughter, Nilda. Nilda, this is Mrs. Wood, the lady from the Welfare Department.”

“How are you, young lady?”

“Fine, thank you,” Nilda said timidly.

“How old are you?”

“Ten.”

“Oh, a nice big girl. Well. I'm sure you are a big help to Mother. Well. How do you like school? What grade are you in?”

“Yes. I am in the fifth grade. I go to P.S. 72 on 103rd Street.”

“How nice.… Do you like it there?”

“Yes.”

“Isn't that nice, and you speak English so well.”

“She's born here, Mrs. Wood,” her mother said, offended.

“Oh … yes, that's right. Well I mean … that is, sometimes …”

Her stepfather walked into the room. Nilda noticed he had put on his good suit and his teeth, but did not have time to shave.

“This is my husband, Emilio Ramírez. This is Mrs. Wood.”

“How are you?” he said, shaking her hand. “You know, Mrs. Wood … Mrs. Wood? That's the right name? Okay. Well, you know, this is only a temporary assistance. I have a good job, and we just got a union in my place, so that as soon as I get my ticker,” he smiled and pointed to his heart, “in good shape again, I'll be able to go back to work.”

Her mother looked at Mrs. Wood with a desperate expression; she had put down on the report that her husband would not be going back to work.

“Yes,” the social worker said. “Well now, I have to look around and just fill out a few forms. If you don't mind, I really have to get on.”

“Lydia, did you offer Mrs. Wood something?” her stepfather asked.

“Oh never mind, Mr. Ramírez; I really have to get going. It's all right.”

“No,” he said, “have something. Coffee? Tea maybe?”

“No. Really I couldn't, but thank you anyway.” Looking at her wristwatch, she added, “I must be getting on, you know; there are many other people on the list.” Standing, she said to Nilda's mother, “Please, may I …?”

“Oh sure, yes … this way please.… Listen, Mrs. Wood,” she walked out into the hallway, “my daughter-in-law is just spending a few days here with my grandson … You see my married son, James, is working in New Jersey, and he just sent them here, you know, to be here with me a little.… That way I can see my first grandson … But they will be going back this week, by Friday.” She knocked on Sophie's door. “Sophie? May we please come in?” Sophie opened the door, looking very worried. “This
here is Mrs. Wood. She's come down from Welfare … This is my daughter-in-law, Sophie Ortega.”

“How do you do,” Mrs. Wood said, and walked into the room. The baby was in the crib on his back, kicking and chewing on a pacifier. “Isn't he adorable!” Mrs. Wood looked down at him. “Hi, there. My, he has a lot of hair, and so black.” Looking up at Sophie, who was fair and had light brown hair, she added, “He must look like his daddy.”

“Oh, yes! He looks just like Jimmy,” Sophie said, and smiled proudly.

“How old is the baby?” She went on asking questions. Nilda had been walking behind the women and now stepped around them and went up to the crib. Looking at the baby, Nilda leaned over and began to play with him, touching his hands and shaking his feet. Baby Jimmy began to coo and make noises.

“Nilda, that's enough!” her mother snapped.

“Mrs. Ramírez, you have a lovely grandson. Good-bye, Sophie,” Mrs. Wood said.

Nilda followed as her mother showed Mrs. Wood the other bedrooms, the bathroom and the kitchen. Frankie had been doing homework, and answered a few questions briefly and quickly. They walked back into the living room.

“Well, Mrs. Ramírez, you know we cannot pay rent for all these people.”

“No people, just my aunt and my daughter-in-law who is leaving by Friday,” her mother said, almost pleading.

“All right, I'll put that down. And we'll see. Now, we may be able to assist you with …”

They went on talking and Nilda heard her stepfather again. He walked into the room and said loudly, “You sure you won't have something, Mrs. Wood?”

“No, thank you, Mr. Ramírez. I'm late as it is,” she said.

“So late you can't have a glass of water? Have something!” he said, almost commanding.

“Emilio … por favor,” her mother said.

“Capitalism puts us in this position. You know that, lady? I worked all my life; why do I have to ask for charity?”

“Please, Emilio …” her mother said. Mrs. Wood turned beet red and tried to smile.

“What are you going to give us, Mrs.? Gold perhaps? That you have to inspect everything here?” he said, raising his voice.

“Emilio! This lady is only doing her job. Now let us be,” her mother said anxiously. “Please, Emilio … ¡cállate!”

“All right, all right,” he said, and sat down, glaring at Mrs. Wood.

Mrs. Wood stood up, quickly putting on her tan camel's-hair coat. “Well,” she said smiling.

The front door opened and Paul came running in. “Hi, Ma.… Oh, hello,” he said. Mrs. Wood looked at the boy.

“Mrs. Wood, this is my son Paul. Paul, this is Mrs. Wood, the lady from Welfare.” Mrs. Wood opened her eyes wide, surprised as she looked at Paul.

“Hello,” he said.

“This is your son?” she asked.

“Yes, this is my third child,” her mother answered. Nilda had seen this happen many times before; Paul was so much darker than everyone else that people were always surprised. She hated it when they stared at Paul like this woman was doing. Mrs. Wood asked Paul the same questions she had asked Nilda and Frankie. Nilda couldn't wait for her to stop talking and leave. Leave Paul alone! she thought.

She stayed in the living room as her mother and Mrs. Wood went toward the door, and heard their voices.

“Good-bye and thank you, Mrs. Wood. You been very nice, and I appreciate whatever you can do for us.… You see, anything would be a help and …”

“Good-bye.” Mrs. Wood's voice was far away.

“Good-bye. Thank you so much again,” her mother called out.

“Shit! Bunch of capitalist bastards.” She heard her stepfather as he marched down the hallway.

She looked at Paul and smiled. “Boy, Paul. I'm glad that's over. Now Mamá won't be so cranky no more.”

“Yeah, me too. That lady seemed nice. Didn't she, Nilda?” asked Paul. Nilda looked at Paul and wondered, Didn't you see her looking at you that way? Maybe it's just me, she thought. “Don't you think she was nice, Nilda? Maybe she'll help us out.”

“Yeah,” she said, “maybe.” They heard voices; her mother and stepfather were arguing.

“Emilio, por Dios … how could you? You think it's easy?”

“I'll go back to work … tomorrow! You think I can't support my family? What kind of shit does a man have to put up with?”

“You have to rest.… Please … you want me to go crazy?”

“Never mind. I'm calling the union right now, Lydia.”

“Ay … Emilio, please just stop it.”

Nilda heard the voices still arguing. “Jimmy is gonna come and get Sophie and the baby. I don't want the baby to leave, Paul,” she said, almost crying.

“Don't be silly, Nilda. He's gotta leave. He's gotta be with his mother, right? You gotta be with your mother, don't you?” Nilda nodded and swallowed, trying not to cry. “You'll visit them. Wait, you'll see. Probably see him more than if they were still staying here.”

“Do you really think so, Paul?” she asked hopefully. “Sophie did say I could visit, and maybe stay over if they got room. You know, like to baby-sit and all that, since I know just how to take
care of Baby Jimmy and he loves me so much. You know, he recognizes me already.”

“You see? So there! What did I tell you?” Paul said, smiling at Nilda. She smiled back at Paul with a sense of reassurance. The voices had stopped arguing and it was quiet.

“Hey, we missed the radio programs. I'll bet ‘The Lone Ranger' is over. What time is it?” She turned on the radio. The news was on. “Yes, this is a massive war effort by the entire nation. Americans are rallying to the call. Fathers, brothers, sons, uncles and cousins, Americans and patriots all! These brave men are getting ready to leave their loved ones as the draft call gets under way. Young men are showing their patriotism by enlisting, and volunteer stations are being set up in each and every small town in the U.S.A. In Gillespie, Illinois …”

Nilda shut the radio off. “Oh, shucks, we missed it.”

“Look for something else, Nilda,” said Paul.

“Naw, I'm going out to play,” she said. Getting up, she added, “Come on, Paul. Come out and let's play a game of tag.”

“Go on, man. Nilda, I'm too old for that,” he said indignantly.

“I'm cutting out. See you, Paul.” Nilda left and got her coat. Running into the kitchen, she said to her mother, “Mamá, I'm going out to play. Bendición.”

“Dios te bendiga. Nilda, get home in time for supper and homework.”

She jumped down the steps, taking them two at a time. Outside it was cold. Cars and buses sped by the avenue. She looked around her. Now, she thought, who's around for a game of tag?

S
he heard voices; waking up, Nilda opened her eyes. What time is it? she wondered. Dazed from sleep, she turned to look at the clock on the night table next to her parents' bed. It said quarter to eleven. It was still dark outside. She realized it was nighttime. Confused, she sat up. People were talking; it sounded like everybody was up. It was cold in the apartment, so she slipped on her shoes and threw a blanket around her body. She followed the sound of the voices; they were all in the kitchen, and she could smell fresh coffee. As she entered the brightly lit kitchen, she squinted her eyes and inhaled the mixed aroma of freshly made coffee and cigarette smoke.

“Oh, look who's here. Ugly!” Looking up at the voice, she saw it was Jimmy and broke into a smile. “Man, look at that! She gets bigger all the time. A regular young lady. Come here and gimme a kiss,” he said. Nilda walked over and embraced Jimmy; they hugged and kissed each other. “I just saw the runt. Man, he's even uglier than you are,” he said to Nilda.

“He's beautiful!” Nilda protested, half smiling. Everyone laughed.

“Nilda, you want some milk and coffee? Jimmy brought some ham, hot bread and coffeecake. I'll make you a nice sandwich and some boiled milk with coffee? ¿Sí?” Nilda nodded her head, still slightly drowsy, and sat on Jimmy's lap.

“Gimme some cake too, Mami.”

“Okay, nena,” her mother smiled.

Sophie was sitting on a chair, holding Baby Jimmy. Nilda's stepfather sat drinking a cup of coffee and puffing away at a cigarette. Victor was sitting on another chair, eating some coffeecake.
Frankie and Paul were standing, each munching on a piece of the coffeecake. Aunt Delia stood next to Sophie, smiling, with her papers tucked under her arm. Everyone was looking at Jimmy, who spoke.