The Children of Sanchez (71 page)

If Julia had not been a woman, of course I could have shut her up. But she was my aunt’s
comadre
and one-time sister-in-law, and so Antonia and I would just keep walking without paying attention to her. Later, I told Guillermo privately that any time he wanted me to, I could go out and get him a better bicycle than the one I lost. The only hitch was, he would have to change the numbers and arrange the papers so it would all look legal. Guillermo and I got along well together, but his wife was a hellion who made my life miserable.

Cándido kept on hanging around across the street. It seemed he didn’t have balls enough to speak to me or face me alone. He always had two or three of those thieving “rabbits” with him. Once, Antonia and I were walking arm in arm near the railroad tracks, when he came along with two of his “rabbits” and told Antonia he wanted to speak to her. The other two, whom I knew, were a bit drunk. One of them
shouted, “Wait,
Negro
, just let us give that lousy whore what she deserves. She is a slut and a filthy bitch. She took you in, you pimp, and we’ll give it to you, too.”

When I heard the way they spoke, I insulted their mothers in language they could understand. “You sons-of-bitches! Just form a line so I can take you on one by one. Don’t gang up on me because I’ve got enough for all of you!”

I was ready to fight but Antonia got between us and wouldn’t let me. Then I told her to speak to Cándido for the last time, to see what he had to say. She went off with him and I waited on the corner, with my back to the wall, so they couldn’t attack me from the sides or from behind. She didn’t return and I got tired of waiting so I went to the market and helped Manuel sell a pile of used shirts he had bought from a laundry.

That night, Antonia didn’t come home, but went to her mother’s house. I refused to go after her, not because I was afraid but because I understood that, after all, the girl had her husband and I didn’t have the right to interfere in her life. It was the first time we had separated. I tried not to see her again but she came looking for me and even cried. When I saw that, I said, “Good!” and I took her back. My father and Delila had moved out of the Casa Grande and only Manuel and his new wife, María, were living there, so I spoke to my father and he finally agreed to let me live there too, with Antonia.

In those days, in spite of difficulties with my wife, I was very happy. After having gone through so many calamities, it was a beautiful and pleasurable thing for me to be in love. When you get to love someone and it is returned, man! it is great, something sublime. I looked at everything differently, even the most insignificant details took on another aspect. Love is really life itself, that is, you feel as though you have reached the true goal of life. Love signifies God, goodness, understanding. Understanding for the other person helps spiritually and sometimes even materially.
Vaya
! That was what happened to me. But I had illusions, then, that Antonia would get to love me as much as I loved her, or more.

I worked with more gusto and my friends were surprised when I turned down their invitations to drink. From work. I went home and didn’t go out again. I spent the evenings making plans with Antonia. First, I would get a steady job, then a room of our own, and a bed and, little by little, the things we needed. If all went well, we would have a
civil marriage and, later, a church wedding. Think of it! I was planning to have her marry in a white dress!

At first, Antonia behaved very well. She stayed at home all day and didn’t complain of a thing. Manuel and María slept on a mattress on the floor on one side of the room and we slept on burlap bags on the other side. Manuel accepted my wife all right, though I don’t believe he really got to know her. Antonia and María were friendly and went everywhere together. I didn’t like that at all. A married woman should not go out with a companion; for good or bad, I wanted my wife to be alone.

But one morning she went out alone without my permission and didn’t return until late that night. She had told María she was going to a
fiesta
at a friend’s house. I was indignant and hurt because she hadn’t even mentioned it to me. Right away I suspected the worst. When she got back, I had to punish her. I hit her hard with my belt and told her to take her things and get out.

“I don’t like this kind of life,” I said. “You want to enjoy yourself in your own way, to be free. You want a husband but you don’t want to be tied down to a home and to a man. You just use me as a screen. You are making a fool of me before everyone, so it is better for you to go free. Take your things and get out.”

She cried and had a temper tantrum and said she didn’t want to continue with me anyway because I was too jealous.

“Look, Antonia, it is true that I am jealous, so why don’t you help me get over it? Instead, you give me more reason for jealousy. Even when we are in the street together, you keep turning your head from one side to the other. Do you notice how bad that makes me feel? I love you with all my soul. I don’t just love you, I idolize you. Never in my life has a woman penetrated my heart so deeply. That’s why, please, try to avoid doing these things.”

But she didn’t want to listen and put her things into a flour sack and left. I didn’t see her for a long time and I began to drink again. When I was good and drunk, I would go to visit my mother-in-law, to find out if they had any news of Antonia, for she had disappeared. I looked for her everywhere, day and night. I asked about her, but no one could tell me a thing.

One day, I met her with Cándido at the entrance to her mother’s
vecindad
. We had a few sharp words and then I said, “Antonia, tell me the truth. Are you going with this bastard again?”

“Yes,” she said, and moved closer to him.
Ay
! it is painful to recall! She was on his side and it gave me such a terrible feeling, not of anger but of grief. I realized I would be acting the fool if I fought for her, so I went in to speak to her mother, who tried to comfort me. My mother-in-law had always favored me. She was a fine woman whom Antonia didn’t know enough to esteem. I think Antonia went wrong because her mother had to go out to work and couldn’t watch over her properly.

After that, I went to see my mother-in-law every evening. If Antonia was at home, we would talk and quarrel about our problems. I still considered her my wife and once in a while I would take her to a hotel for some “chocolate.”

My sister Consuelo had her own little apartment then, with a kitchen and bath. She had bought a wardrobe and a sofa and with all that it seemed to me she was high aristocracy. She kept telling me to come with Antonia to live with her. She thought we could start over again together that way. Antonia was willing but I didn’t like the idea.

“Look, sister,” I said, “not with you. With your character I know that one day it will turn out bad for us. You better live in peace and let me set up a home of my own for Antonia when I can, so that I will feel like a man. I want a place where I am the boss, where I can say what I please, and where only my chewing can be heard!”

But Consuelo kept urging me. “Don’t be a fool, brother. I am offering you a real opportunity. Take advantage of it. You won’t be living off me, because once you get a job you will have to help me pay the rent. You’ll see. Antonia will be very satisfied because I go out to work and you will too, and she’ll have the house to herself.”

One evening, I found Antonia embroidering a pair of pillowcases, which she said were for me. On one was written, “I love you,” and on the other, “For you, my love.”

“
Ay, caramba
! For me? That’s wonderful.”

She said she had broken with Cándido, and wanted to live with me again.

“Yes, Roberto,” she said. “I have thought it over. I want a man who will set up a home for me alone, where I can say what I please and where no one interferes in my life.”

“But, Antonia, that is what I am trying to do. Just give me a chance to find a job and you will see. It won’t have luxuries or riches, but it will be a home for you, where we will get along as best we can.”

It was then that I spoke to Consuelo about moving in with her. “Yes, of course, brother,” she said, and we did, although I still expected that one day the Sánchez in her would go to my sister’s head and she would get fed up with us.

For a few months, everything was fine. But I wasn’t working much and my sister was paying all the rent and lending me money for our daily expenses. From the start, I had wanted Antonia and me to sleep on the floor so my sister could have the bed, but she wouldn’t hear of it. Some nights she slept on the little sofa and let us have the bed, but other nights, when she felt she needed a good rest, I had to sleep on the sofa and she slept with my wife.

I had to scold Antonia for not being cleaner, for leaving dirty clothes soaking in the tub, for yelling at my nieces and nephews. Then she began to go out without permission and when I hit her for it, my sister came and
huy
! the world fell down on my head! Both women let me have it.

The next day, when I came home from my new job in a warehouse, Antonia was gone. Again, I went out to look for her. Sometimes at ten or eleven o’clock at night I would begin to make the rounds. More than once, I stood on street corners until three in the morning to catch her. My mother-in-law didn’t know where she was any more than I did and went to a spiritualist to try to bring her back. Antonia’s mother was very angry and swore that if Antonia didn’t go back to me she would disown her.

I got drunk almost every night and was beaten up twice by gangs who took advantage of my condition. I heard that Antonia was living with Cándido and in my grief and rage I hunted him, with my knife in my belt. I wanted to meet the bastard in a man-to-man fight, once and for all. But he kept out of my way, for I could never find him.

Then, one day, from the bus, I saw the two of them walking together. I saw her smile at him and, I don’t know what happened to me, but at that moment, I let her go. “From here on, for me Antonia is dead,” I said to myself. I got so drunk that just remembering it makes me feel drunk again. I got hold of hundreds of
pesos
and spent them all. My pain was too great and everything went in one big drunk.

I realized that Antonia wasn’t worth a cumin seed. She had no feeling, no heart, not a spark of nobility. Nothing mattered to her, not even herself. I saw the kind of person she was almost from the
start, but I overlooked it because I loved her. It took me six months and a couple of other girls to get me over that hurt!

When it comes to love, I don’t understand my own actions. In the land of Cupid, there isn’t a person who can control his impulses. One can impose one’s will in the world of sinners and have command over the whole universe, but not over one’s heart. The things that happen, have to happen, because they are predestined. They are already written somewhere up above and even though there are seers and prophets in the world I don’t believe they or anyone else can know what will happen tomorrow. We cannot determine when we will be born or when we will die. It is all arranged beforehand. That’s why I say I believe in destiny. Early or late, that which must happen, will happen. That’s the way the world is.

I
N MONTERREY I REALLY GAVE MYSELF, BODY AND SOUL, TO MARIO, OR
rather, body only, for I didn’t love him. You might even say I hated him. I treated him badly and looked upon him as I would an enemy, in spite of the fact that he was good to me. All the time we were on the train, I was tortured by the thought that once we arrived and were alone in a room, many kilometers from my house, with nobody I knew around, I would have to be his. He had made me promise. I behaved coldly to him after that and could only think that this time I had no way out.

We moved into a boarding house the very first day. I was afraid of the night coming, when we would have to go to sleep. He had waited for this moment for a long time. In his
mamá
’s house it hadn’t been possible, because she had separated us immediately. At my aunt’s, there was even less possibility, because the room was too small for him to try anything.

I managed to put him off the first two nights. By the third night, he couldn’t take it any more. He began very lovingly, “
Mi vida
, finally we are going to be husband and wife.” I felt my stomach turn with fear, and said, “Oh, stop bothering me!”

But he continued his attack. He caressed my shoulders and my hair. He kissed my face and spoke sweet words to me. I was sweating, thinking of the moment when I would have to give myself. I was wishing someone would come and save me. I threw his hands off me and told him to leave me alone. He reminded me that I had given my word. My conscience bothered me and without saying anything, I let him kiss and embrace me.

But when I was finally his, it was too much for me. I didn’t hold back and pushed him off, giving him a kick in the chest at the same time. He groaned and caught his breath. Then he started to speak to me, calmly, and little by little, won me over again. I regretted having treated him the way I had and asked his pardon. He kissed my forehead and turned away from me. I remained looking at his white young back and black, wavy hair. I thought the struggle for that night was over and I went to sleep.

But toward morning he began to caress me again. I awoke in desperation and fought with him but again he broke my resistance with loving words. Mario consummated his act. He tried to hurt me as little as possible but I couldn’t stand it. I wanted it to be over that instant, that whatever had to happen should happen and that I be left in peace. Finally, Mario was left almost in a faint, sweating, the poor thing. I turned around with my back to him and burst into tears.

“But, Skinny, what did you think marriage was? Don’t be silly. I love you, Consuelo, believe me. I’ll never leave you. Don’t cry, don’t cry.”

But I paid no attention to him. I was thinking, “That’s it! Now I’m ruined forever. Now I am no longer a
señorita
and all on account of that daughter-of-a——, Delila. But my father is to blame. Because of her, my father threw me out of the house … “If you only knew what you have done, Father! You are the one responsible for what happens to me from now on!” I continued to cry bitterly. I imagined my
papá
saw me crying and suffered also. He begged my pardon. But there was nothing to be done any more. Mario consoled me but I wanted to push him away. Finally, I took refuge in his arms and fell asleep like that.