Nilda (19 page)

“N
ilda, bring the rest of the holy water here,” her mother said. “Don't wake up your papá. You know how he feels; if he finds out, there's gonna be the very devil and all hell to pay.” Her mother made the sign of the cross.

Nilda carefully brought in a jar filled with holy water. That afternoon, right after school, she had gone with her mother to St. Cecilia's. Cautiously she had watched, ready to give warning if anyone came by, while her mother quietly filled several glass jars with the holy water. She had scooped the water out of the marble fonts with a metal measuring cup. When she was all finished, she took a small piece of paper and read the prayer that was written on it, as she had been instructed to do by the spiritualist. After making the sign of the cross, they had left.

“I'm hiding the holy water there, way in back of the closet, and as soon as Doña Tiofila comes, we can get to work. I don't know if it will work, since he don't believe.…” Her mother paused and sighed, “But maybe, if we believe.” She walked over to one of her portable altars, knelt down and began to pray silently.

Nilda walked into her room and started to put her books away. When Victor had left for the Army, her mother had given Nilda a bedroom of her own. Her stepfather had suffered another heart attack and had been sent home from the hospital with no chance of recovery. Nilda knew that he was very ill despite the fact that he was always making plans to go back to work. She thought about the time her mother had gone to see the spiritualist, determined to try in every way to help her husband recover his health. “There is something bad, something evil that has come into my home, Doña Tiofila.” Nilda had sat and listened as
the two women spoke; she was quite used to going with her mother to see Doña Tiofila. “It all started with Jimmy, you see, and now, it's Emilio,” her mother had confided.

“Doña Lydia, tell me, have you noticed or found anything unusual in the apartment?” Doña Tiofila had asked.

“Well, only as I have told you—the chicken wishbone wrapped up in red ribbon. It was hidden way on top of the doorway at the entrance to our apartment. It had a lot of dust on it, very dirty and looked old, like it had been there for a very long time. So I couldn't tell whether that was actually monkey turds wrapped inside.”

Shaking her head, Doña Tiofila had said, “You should have brought it to me right away. Immediately!”

“I know. But I didn't think. I was so upset. So I threw it in the garbage can outside.”

“Well, Doña Lydia, we must have a seance. It is the only way to get to the bottom of this. I will arrange one. There are several people who also need a seance. I'll let you know.” Nilda had refused to go to the seance with her mother. She was too frightened. When her mother had returned, she told Nilda all about it.

“Nilda, por mi madre, it was just fantastic. You should have gone with me to see. During the seance, the message was spoken by Doña Tiofila; it was the voice of my dead Aunt Saiyo. Remember? I told you about her, she is Titi Delia's older sister. I recognized her voice right away. She warned me, Nilda. It is my father. Yes, your grandfather, ¡mi hijita! Dios mío. He did not receive the last rites. His last wife did not believe. She is Lutheran; she did not call a priest. So now his soul is wandering around with no place to go and he is restless, tired and angry. My father is now mixing with some other lost souls. ¡Bendito! Some of them are evil; they have been lost too long. They are up to no good and they are the ones entering my house. My father cannot stop them. It is understandable; he is too restless and angry.” Her mother had taken out a written list of items. “You see, Nilda, we
must make the sacrifices. I have to get these things; they are important. Look,” she held out the list toward Nilda, “the white rooster, the holy water, the herbs, candles and all that. This way Doña Tiofila can help me so we can be rid of the evil.”

Doña Tiofila was due to arrive in a short while. Nilda's mother had already bought the live white rooster and given it to the spiritualist, who had made the sacrifice in Central Park the night before. Now, there were prayers to be recited and rituals to be performed in the apartment. Everyone knew about it except her stepfather.

Her mother had warned everyone. “Papá is not to be awakened. But if he should get up, I will just have to tell him, and that's that! It is too important.”

Nilda heard voices. She went to see who it was. A small plump woman walked in; she was bundled up in a heavy winter coat and had a kerchief wrapped around her head. She carried a large cloth shopping bag. The woman took off her coat and kerchief. She wore a housedress, no make-up and solid comfortable shoes with laces. “It's another nasty day out. Looks like snow or rain,” she said. “Winter is too long in this country. Well, thank God, in another couple weeks we have the springtime.”

“Thank you for coming this cold wet day. Everything is ready. My husband is sleeping; I pray he does not wake up. He is not a believer,” her mother said. Pausing, she added, “He can be very difficult.”

“I know,” said Doña Tiofila. “I have to deal with all kinds of people in my work. That's why the good Lord gives me my faith and my powers. To meet with all kinds of difficulty and doubt. But that never discourages me. Mire, Doña Lydia, I wish I could tell you how many people come to me now, who, at one time did not believe. But after what has happened to them through faith and belief, they now come to me and believe with all their hearts.” Looking at Nilda, who was standing listening, she asked, “How are you, Nilda?”

“Fine, thank you.”

The two women went into the kitchen where her mother began to make coffee. There, Doña Tiofila started to take things out of her shopping bag and discuss the ritual with her mother.

Nilda went back to her room and took out a drawing she was working on for Easter. She was not in the mood to work on it, and went over to her “box of things,” examining the contents. Most of her cardboard cutouts had been made some time ago. Lately, she had lost interest in her cutout projects. I have to start seeing what I need and don't need, she thought. She took out a paper cutout of a crib, and remembered Baby Jimmy. Well, he certainly won't know me now; Mamá says he's almost a year and a half already, Nilda said to herself. She found herself angry at Jimmy and Sophie, feeling it was their fault that she couldn't see Baby Jimmy.

Looking further into the box, she took out another cardboard cutout of a statue of the Virgin Mary that she had made after she had gotten home from St. Anselm's Camp for Catholic Youth. Underneath the Virgin's feet she had printed in tiny letters, trying to imitate the script in church, “Thank you, oh blessed Virgin, for THE MIRACLE.” Remembering the “miracle” and camp, she wondered if what took place today would somehow make her stepfather better.

“Nilda?” Nilda looked up and saw her mother whispering to her from outside her room. “Nilda, you have to come inside with us; we need you for a moment, please.” Her mother spoke very softly. “Doña Tiofila says we must have the youngest and most innocent one in the family present.” Nilda followed her, sulking. “Now look, Nilda, only for a moment.”

“Yeah, that's what you always say and then I have to stay and say all them prayers too, I bet,” Nilda said crossly.

“Shh. You have to help. Stop that nonsense! This woman is very good to come and help. So you just get another expression on your face. Right now! Or I'll put one there for you,” her mother
said angrily. They walked back to the kitchen, where Doña Tiofila was holding a jar of holy water.

“You must follow me and recite the prayers I gave you, as instructed, Doña Lydia.” Doña Tiofila closed her eyes and continued, “First we recite one for your son Jimmy and his young family. If he is in trouble with the police, the Most Just Judge will stand behind him, and soon you shall have news of his whereabouts. Then we shall pray for Victor, as he fights for his country and all of us; may the enemies' bullets never find him. Finally, we shall reach your father, Doña Lydia. I have the blood of the sacrifice. He shall leave those evil souls he is hanging out with and go back to rest in peace. I will receive the illness and then I will rid myself of it.” She started to walk, pouring the holy water on her hands and sprinkling it over the walls, woodwork and floors, going into the hall and from room to room.

Nilda and her mother recited the prayers, whispering in Spanish. As they entered Aunt Delia's room, she was quietly reading the newspaper. When she saw Doña Tiofila, she nodded and kneeled before her small altar, silently praying. They went into her brothers' room; it was empty. Doña Tiofila continued to pray. They stood before her parents' bedroom. Her mother looked in and said in a barely audible voice, “He is fast asleep.”

“I will go in and come out quickly,” said Doña Tiofila and walked into the bedroom. Tiptoeing, she gently sprinkled the holy water as she walked all around the bed where Nilda's stepfather slept.

Nilda could see her stepfather stretched out and could hear him snoring as the woman moved her lips and made gestures.

Doña Tiofila stepped out. “All done,” she said. Nilda's mother crossed herself with relief.

They walked back to the kitchen and Doña Tiofila reached into her shopping bag and took out candles, herbs, incense and
oil. She began to rub her hands together and whisper to the evil spirits. Nilda could not make out what the spiritualist said.

Nilda's mother watched anxiously as Doña Tiofila went into a trance. Finally, the spiritualist opened her eyes wide and said, “¡Ay, ayyy qué dolor! What pain! I feel the pain in my heart.” Grabbing herself, she gasped, “I feel the spirit coming into my body. Yesss. Go … go away … go! Leave this house! Leave these people in peace! Go!”

Nilda watched, terrified, as the woman groaned and moaned, convulsed with pain.

Doña Tiofila collapsed in a heap in a chair. “I have to rest. Dios mío. My goodness. I have a heart condition now … you must light candles,” she said, catching her breath. “Place the blood of the sacrifice on the altar and light your candles beside it. The evil spirits will leave your home and leave my body. But you … you must continue the prayers and lighting the candles for a period of …”

As her mother listened attentively to every word Doña Tiofila said, Nilda quietly slipped out of her chair and into the hallway. She walked into her room and sat on her bed, glad to be away from them. Nilda sat for a moment, thinking about what had happened, when suddenly she heard loud voices. She left her room and went toward the living room.

“What is all this?” her stepfather shouted. “You at it again? Look at the walls and the floor. The house is all wet, for Christ's sake. I almost tripped and broke my ass! When are you gonna learn, Lydia? What is this gonna get you, eh?” he asked.

“You don't believe, Emilio? Okay. But don't interfere; never mind! It's my business then. Okay?” her mother answered angrily.

“Your business? Some business all right. We can't afford to eat chicken, but your friend, the healer, can, eh?” he shouted. “She's the only person in the whole Barrio who eats chicken every day.”

“Emilio, please, that is a terrible thing to say. She does not even charge. Each person gives only what they can,” her mother said, outraged.

“Why should she charge? She only has to give a list of groceries with chicken every day. She keeps the chicken and we get one lousy ounce of blood. Don't tell me she don't eat it. Devil knows what else she orders for supper as well. Then, little by little, the idiots pay her rent. Between that crew at St. Cecilia's with their crap, and this basura, it's a miracle we can afford to eat Spam!”

Doña Tiofila had her coat on and the kerchief around her head. She was standing by the door, holding her cloth shopping bag, ready to leave.

“Ay, Doña Tiofila, please forgive him. I'm so ashamed for his behavior.”

“Never mind, m'ija,” Doña Tiofila said smiling. “I told you it doesn't matter. I understand. I will help you.”

“Thank you, Doña Tiofila. You know how grateful I am, and I will pray for you and your goodness,” her mother said.

“What is all this water on the floor? Did she pee here, too? It's not enough with these fairy tales, she has to come here to pee? She can't use the toilet? What do I have to look forward to next?”

“Ay, Emilio, please shut up. ¡Basta ya! Virgen María, what language. Shame!” her mother said. Opening the door, she walked out with Doña Tiofila. “Por favor, Doña Tiofila. He is worse than ever. I think it's his illness …” Her voice trailed off.

Her stepfather was still muttering and complaining when her mother returned.

“You ought to be ashamed, Emilio! That woman is a saint. You embarrassed me.”

“I didn't know saints ate chicken or wet the floors. Or …”

“Stop that!” interrupted her mother. “It is for your own good I do this, hombre! And for Victor and for Jimmy.”

“Oh, I see. This woman is gonna bring back your precious son. From where? Not a word do we hear from Jimmy, in how long? A lousy postcard now and then, with no return address. Who knows what he is up to? We got a drawer full of letters from the draft board for him. They have come here, in person, to look for him. The U.S. government cannot find him, but she's gonna do it? She ain't a saint, she's a magician!”

Nilda heard her parents arguing as she returned to her room. She thought, Boy am I glad that's over. She began to think about Doña Tiofila, who was Catholic and always wore religious medals around her neck. I wonder what that lady tells the priest at confession, she thought. At Catechism, she had been taught that all superstition was wrong. Was the ritual today superstition? she asked herself. Nilda remembered her own confessions guiltily. She had made her First Holy Communion last October, feeling miserable since most of the kids were seven years old and Nilda was eleven. She still had not told the priest everything, like the time in church when she stole candles and lit them, or the time she received Communion without ever having been to confession, as well as other things. Her thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the door. “Yeah?” she asked.