The Feria (11 page)

Soledad lingered on those words. For now, they would have to do.

The news was everywhere. The morning had brought a tragedy that made anyone forget what they were personally dealing with. In the early hours of the morning, the Japanese warplanes attacked the U.S. fleet ships that were docked at Pearl Harbor, a place somewhere in Hawaii. People throughout El Paso were seen outside on their porches, outside their businesses, as though they were hopelessly lost. Many were freely crying in the streets. It felt like the world had come to an end. Fear and rumors swarmed of bombs having the ability to reach even El Paso, and anywhere else they were directed, killing everyone, everything. People gathered in churches waiting for updates or to repent before death came. Some people had family out in Hawaii and could only pray they’d survived. This truly was a life-changing experience, embarking on an uncertain future.

Soledad was afraid. She, too, expected at any second the bombs would come. She wished Xavier were with her. She was truly alone. Her family would die together. Emmanuel would die with his money at the bank. She, she would die here in this prison of a home, her only companion a stranger growing within her. Daring to allow herself only a few seconds to think of Xavier, she wondered what he was thinking about all of this just across the border. Would he be worried for her safety? Would he perhaps find a way into the United States and come save her, take her away into a safer country? What would he think finding her pregnant? He’d probably regret his decision and turn right back around.

Soledad buried herself under the heavy quilt on her bed and waited, whether it was for death or Xavier, she truly did not know.

Overwhelmed by the fear of world events, Soledad now suffered from a war raging in her body. If heartbreak didn’t kill her, this pregnancy would. And sometimes she wished it would. Instead of morning sickness, she was sick all day long. Her food intake declined so much, she began losing weight instead of gaining. Her lips were always dry and cracked, but who cared?

To his credit, Emmanuel tried to help her, but she refused him, blaming it on mood swings. He was hardly ever home anyhow, so what did it matter what she did.

The United States had officially entered the war, and Emmanuel was out fighting his own war, making sure he and her father stayed rich. Her father should be proud of her husband. This was the reason why he’d sold her off. To remain untouched during these unfathomable times.

Having received
Abuelita’s
stern advice, and most likely because her husband was back and forth between El Paso and California, her mother had begun visiting her. As the twins, now a foot taller, relished the secrets of the attic, she and her mother sat in her bedroom, trying every possible cure for nausea. They had tried everything from
anise
, to dried peach tree leaves her mother gathered from friends in Soledad’s neighborhood. They tried fennel seed, red raspberry, and ginger teas. They tried cider vinegar in warm water. No luck. Not one natural remedy would favor her. But one morning, when she was roughly six months pregnant, things became suddenly different.

Her eyes fluttered open and she clenched her sheets, afraid to move, instantly bracing for the wave of nausea that diligently greeted her each day. But instead, after several minutes of anticipation, she gasped to discover that she actually felt hungry. She had not felt this way in a long time. Suddenly, she felt a deep hunger pang. Then it came again. Her eyes squinted in concentration as she tried to zone in, to visualize what could be happening inside of her. And then she slowly began to grasp that what she was feeling, the light flutters as soft as the tips of butterfly wings, were not hunger pangs at all. Her heart leapt. She distinctly felt a baby kicking! A strange sound now filled the air. It danced throughout the bedroom. She was trying to figure out what it was when all at once, the baby kicked again. From the deep recesses of her mind, she knew that sound. It was laughter. Her laughter. It felt so good she did it again. Release. It was raining down on her. She laughed and laughed and laughed. It’d been so long, it felt like her first time, and with each kick, it was like her baby was laughing with her. They were together, one person. In those few sweet moments, something changed. Something in the deepest part of her became free from a long and dormant prison, and it wrapped itself around her baby. There was nothing she would not do for this child. Her child. It no longer mattered that it was part Emmanuel. It was her baby. She thanked God for such a gift, one she felt she didn’t deserve. The world was falling apart outside, but inside, her baby was in the safest place it could be.

The hints of summer danced into infancy that morning in April. There was fire, like those burning everlasting in hell tearing Soledad’s vagina into pieces. At least that’s what it felt like. In her bed, soaked with sweat, she shook her head erratically, refusing the cold rag her mother tried to force onto her forehead. She promised herself to never enter this bed again as she tried to tear at the sheets and screamed as though she was being murdered. At this moment, she wished she could be. The way she felt, the way she screamed, emulated the way she wished she could have screamed what seemed like so long ago, when her life was sucked coldly out of her. Her mother, her beloved aunt, and several cousins adorned her bedroom with ample supplies for receiving this baby into the world. The fact that her aunt had left California was in itself a world event.

Her father had replaced her in California for this blessed event. Her aunt had been sick recently. The last few months, to be exact. Her aunt had begun to feel nervous about everything. Their letters back and forth showed her becoming more and more distraught.

Soledad did not have time or energy to grieve over losing her aunt, but every time she would fill a letter with the beauty of love, or her problems with her father, or how she was sold to Emmanuel, she would receive a letter in return about how the war was wrecking lives and how she was certain she had seen soldiers in her backyard the other night. When she came to Soledad’s house, there were times when she was
Tía
, and there were times when she was not. Soledad’s mother, so not to upset Soledad, tried very hard to have her aunt escorted back to California, but Soledad had insisted that her aunt stay, although she found it truly odd to see the most independent woman she knew sidelined and often needing direction. She no longer worked right.

Soledad’s father would eventually need to find someone to be his eyes and ears over his cherry trees in California, a thought that had recently flirted with her. Especially now that Emmanuel had a stake in this, he might agree to let her go since he would want a trustworthy person out there managing his affairs. She could take her baby, and she would care for her aunt, and they could, essentially, live their own lives out there.

As usual, Emmanuel was not with her. He would be home later after work to meet his child. Actually, she didn’t care. His face would make her sick.

Agony that words could never describe brought her back to the present situation. After several hours of wrestling with pain, blood, sweat, and tears, she asked her mother to remove the clock from the bedroom. Just when Soledad was telling God to receive her spirit, in one final push, she felt a gush of release and immediately the pain stopped. A wet thickness oozed out of her, but it didn’t hurt. A few short seconds later, she heard what sounded like the bleat of a little lamb. Her heart lit. Her baby. The tiniest of cries filled the room. Tears rolled down her mother’s cheeks, and Soledad gave a soft sob while the many women present worked diligently to clean and care for the baby while doting on it.

“Please! I want to see my baby!”

Her cousin, Claudia, coaxed her back down to a reclined position. She was grateful. The brisk movements and yelling had caused a dizzy spell.

“Are you all right?” her mother called out, coming over from the opposite side of the room, holding a bundle. “I want to be sure you can support your child.” Her mother smiled tenderly at the precious gem in her arms.

“Yes, yes, really.” Soledad reached her trembling hands for her child. She’d never felt so eager for anything in her life.

“You have a beautiful daughter.” Her mother beamed. “And she has the bluest of eyes. Probably takes after your great-grandfather.”

Soledad cradled her baby against her chest and concentrated on every part of her newborn girl. Light brown curls adorned her head like a crown. She was light-skinned like Eduardo and had the longest of fingers. And then, the baby opened her beautiful blue eyes.

Soledad stared at them, fixated, silent. A sense of peace warmed her from the top of her head to the bottom of her feet. She lifted her baby upward and planted a kiss on her cheek, the first kiss of her wonderful life. What Soledad held in her arms was the truest treasure of all time. What she held in her arms was redemption. This baby, as her
abuelita
had prophesized, brought her a happiness only attainable by looking into those beautiful blue eyes ... Xavier’s eyes.

“Rosa Abril,” she said.

Her Aunt Rosa squealed in delight and for a second all eyes shifted from the baby and onto the crazy woman.

Soledad scanned the room and all the beaming women.

Her life had just taken a turn for the better. The world had finally righted her.

Life was restored anew and love, for the first time, filled Soledad’s home in abundance. She felt like she was living the verse in the Bible that said something about God opening the windows of heaven and pouring out a blessing that there shall not be room enough to receive it.

Emmanuel, while still a workhorse, often found time now to come home throughout the day. He adored little Abril. He cuddled her, brought her endless gifts home, and constantly planted kisses on her. Seeing him with Abril frustrated Soledad. He was enjoying another man’s joy, believing it was his own. Soledad pained for Xavier. She wished it were him coddling their beautiful daughter. She wished she could send word to him. She often longed to pack up their daughter and run away to Mexico to find him and be with him. But she felt in her heart that he was gone. Their plan no longer existed. She didn’t take this realization as hard as she thought she would. She knew it was because she gave every emotion she had to Abril. In an odd way, Abril was a saving grace. Not only did she provide her mother with a piece of Xavier for all eternity, but she also provided a distraction. Therefore, Soledad guarded this secret with her heart and soul. It was a secret she would die keeping.

Nothing mattered now except for Abril. And how would one ever tell a child that the only father she’s ever known is not her father at all? Emmanuel was good to Abril. He loved her. He provided her with anything she could possibly ever need, and while Soledad thanked him, and, even though frustrated at times, she also felt guilty. He would never have a child of his own, at least not with her.

She didn’t want any more children. If someone would have asked her before Abril, she would have been cruel enough to say that she didn’t ever want one of Emmanuel’s babies corrupting her body, but she realized now, especially after thinking originally that Abril was his, that she would love and adore any baby that grew in her body. Therefore, she had to protect herself. The one child, Xavier’s, would be all she would ever carry. There was sanctity about it. It was fate; it was a blessing; it was meant to be this way.

To ensure her plan, Soledad did three things. One, she used excuses about Abril to limit her sexual contact with Emmanuel. Two, she learned the rhythm of her body and if they did have sex, mostly because he demanded it, she would
not
have sex when she was ovulating. If she saw that Emmanuel was getting antsy, and if it was near the time of the month that she’d begin to ovulate, she would not wait for him to decide when they would be together. She would simply get the job done at her discretion, by any means other than him being inside of her. He often mistook this as her desire for him because afterward he’d often bring roses home for her the next day. She had to admit things were not so bad with Emmanuel any longer. He was a businessman, one hungry for money, and he had an affair with that lifestyle. It was his mistress, but Soledad couldn’t be happier about that fact.

Lastly, Soledad saved any money Emmanuel gave her to get a diaphragm from her uncle, who was a physician and her cousin Claudia’s father. While Soledad had often shunned distracting relationships when she was younger, Claudia would have been the closest thing to a sister or best friend. They didn’t often see each other, which was quite odd in a Mexican family, but Soledad’s father and his brother had a very difficult relationship. Now that she and Claudia were adults, they didn’t depend on their fathers to make nice so they could visit. In their adulthood, Soledad realized she was finding her Suki in Claudia. She wished now that when they’d baptized Abril as an infant, she would have chosen Claudia for Abril’s godmother. Instead, she was forced to choose a couple that were friends of Soledad’s parents. They never saw Abril, though, and Claudia was becoming more of a fun-loving aunt than a second cousin to Abril. But it was Claudia who was the key to getting this so-needed diaphragm that Soledad needed. Together, they baffled Claudia’s father into a doctor-uncle/patient-niece-daughter-of-a-man-he-couldn’t-stand confidentiality deal.

As the years flew by, Abril would grow to adore her Emmanuel, sometimes preferring him over Soledad. While it angered Soledad, she promised herself again and again that she would never hurt Abril by confessing that the man this child idolized was no one but a thief, rapist, and imposter, although time was beginning to slightly soften those accusations.

And while Abril idolized Emmanuel, Soledad’s parents idolized Abril. The relationship continued to be strained between Soledad and her father, but she would never deprive her daughter of having grandparents.
Abuelita
came as often as she could, and little Abril refused to sleep anywhere else but with her. Even the twins stepped up from being spoiled, obnoxious boys to award-winning uncles. This baby had it all.

It seemed like a system unbroken until one day,
Abuelita
decided to once again impart words of wisdom.
Abuelita
, seeming more and more frail, was now living in El Paso with her daughter. The war made everything much harder on everyone. Her mother was alone almost all the time since her father had to maintain almost full-time status in California now. He trusted no one. Border crossing had come under scrutiny, and it made sense to have
Abuela
, who had been living alone, keep
Mamá
company and have full-time care.

Several things about that arrangement bothered Soledad. One, she knew that her
abuela’s
move signified the beginning of an end. People, especially like her
abuela
, didn’t just pick up and leave their homes behind. Second, the only viable doorway she had left, any link to her past with Xavier, was now closed. But as the years had come and gone, Soledad had honestly sort of let it all go anyway. She never did it officially, so as not to kill herself, but as Abril healed almost all of Soledad’s brokenness, she was able to let go without realizing it. Maybe it was the idea that she forever now had a piece of Xavier, her true love.

“
Mija
,” her
abuelita
began. “It has been long enough.”
Abuelita
sat in a recliner that had been put on the veranda for her. A side table held her glasses, her Bible, and a tall crystal glass of tea. Soledad looked up from her book,
A Tale of Two Cities.
Her grandmother shuffled her feet under the soft tan blanket she wore around her legs, legs that nothing seemed to keep warm nowadays. A small sparrow came down and balanced itself on the iron gate, as if on a tightrope. It watched them as if it wanted to listen to
Abuelita’s
words. Most likely, it was waiting for the leftovers
Abuelita
often threw out into the grass. She was growing quite a fan base.

Soledad sat up in her hardback chair.

“What do you mean?” Soledad leaned forward.

Abuela’s
visits to Soledad’s home were becoming more and more scarce, so she planned on heeding her
abuelita’s
every word.

“I mean that there is great peace in forgiveness.”

Soledad recoiled, knowing full well what
Abuelita
was asking of her. She folded the corner of her book page. This conversation would actually need to be vested in. Soledad, although silent, invited her grandmother to continue by nodding her head. She wasn’t ready to speak yet, worrying that if she spoke too soon, wrong and bitter words would interfere.

“Cholita, Abril is already four years old. And I thank God he’s left me here to see it. I also thank God that he has let you find happiness once again. But there is one more favor that I ask of Him each and every day. I can’t leave this earth in peace until I know that you and your father have made your peace.”
Abuelita
shifted forward so the sun could warm her back, but she was also fidgeting, unwilling to complain that she’d spent too long in her chair.

Soledad chose her words carefully. “
Abuela
, I can’t begin to tell you what my father did to me. You wouldn’t understand.” She instantly regretted those words. Her grandmother would understand. In fact, she was the only person who would understand. Apart from precious Suki, who was now resting with the Lord. “I’m sorry,
Abuelita.
I didn’t mean that.”

Abuelita lifted a frail hand and swung it in the air. At first Soledad thought she was being dismissed, but realized such impartial behavior was not the stock her grandmother was made of. She stayed silent, stifling sadness as she watched her grandmother look for a few breaths before continuing. “This is what I do understand.” She paused. Tension never did affect this sturdy woman. She would continue speaking when she was ready. She coolly flicked some breadcrumbs from her lunch, but by lack of her strength, they didn’t quite make it out far enough. Another sparrow joined the first in a feast right at
Abuelita’s feet
. Abril, in her little purple suspenders giggled and ran right for them.
Abuelita
doted on the child with bright eyes and a small smile before refocusing on the unfinished business. “What I understand is that your father loves you, and I believe you love him.” Those impenetrable eyes tore right into Soledad’s very soul. “This is not you. You are forgiving and loving, kind, and most of all you are humble. Do you want your daughter to see the strain between you and your father and think it’s okay? How would you feel if she ever chose this path with you?”

The little one had pushed her great-grandmother’s blanket to the side and was rubbing her legs. She had seen Soledad do this many times. She was loving, kind, and humble, too.

Soledad blew out a breath.
Abuelita
made so much sense. Some things were clearer now that she was a mother. But if she ever had to marry Abril off to such an imperfect man, and tear her away from her true love, she would die first. So while she could see one side of things as a parent, she could also see another.

But her
abuela
persisted. “Forgiveness rights all the wrongs that it can, and then forgets the rest.” She could no longer carry Abril, but the little girl was sitting snugly next to the old woman who now wrapped her arms tightly around her little
niña
.

“It has already started righting the wrongs with the birth of your angel. Now let everything else go. I tell you this because I love you.”

Soledad didn’t want to do anything to displease her
abuela
. And she also wanted to be the best example to her daughter that she could be. She had to get her life in order before Abril was old enough to understand and to ask questions.

“Will you please watch Abril for a little while?” She only said that to make her
abuela
feel normal, useful. The truth was that Abril was just about to go down for a nap after having played in the yard all morning, and her mother, who had spent all morning at the house, had stepped out for church and would be back soon, and there were caregivers bustling about the house, so Soledad felt confident in leaving.

“Take all the time you need. We will be fine,” her grandmother said with a laugh, a twinkle in her wise eyes.

Abril was tossing all the bread out at the birds. The two were consumed in the crowd they were drawing. It felt good to hear them laugh.

Soledad gave them both a peck on the cheek. This would be a good time. Her father, home for a few days, was getting ready to leave for California. Oh, how she wished she could go back. She would give anything for the days of innocence again. She would give anything to be in her own little world, playing in the ocean, staying up late talking to her
tía
. She wished her
tía
was still her
tía
, but that woman was now gone. She wondered where all the letters she’d sent her ended up. There were so many, they could make up a book. Even after her
tía’s
letters had stopped coming, she still wrote to her. It was the only outlet she had where judgment would not be handed down. The letters held so many secrets, so many feelings. She only hoped her father never ran into them.

Soledad alerted the maids that her
abuela
would be caring for Abril while she was gone, but that they should be ready in case she needed any assistance. With that, she found herself behind the steering wheel of a Chevy Impala, unwillingly headed for her home on San Diego for the first time in several years.

The blue shutters were still blue, but starting to fade. When Soledad approached the three steps of her childhood home, she hesitated. She hadn’t blessed her home with the trinity since her father had betrayed her. It had been so long.

“
En el nombre del
—”

“Cholita?” Her father stood at the gate.

Heart pounding, Soledad stared. He must be returning from somewhere. Perhaps, ironically, from her house, where he would likely have dropped off her mother after the service they attended together. Perhaps
Abuelita
had tipped him off that she would be here. Either way, he was here, and she was here. She knew in her heart of hearts that this moment had been perfectly selected for them.

For the first time in a long time, she spoke an unfamiliar word. “
Papá
.”

The aged man needed no other invitation. He bolted through the fence and scaled “
En el nombre del Padre and del Hijo
” steps in three seconds flat. Standing above her, he opened his arms, and without a thought, she fell into them. Flashes of her childhood, her life with this man, ran a marathon through her mind. Her tears did not allow her to open her eyes for what seemed like several minutes, but it was okay. Her father was crying louder than she was, and it would hurt her too much to see him this way. She had never in her life heard her father cry. She would never forget the sound, and she didn’t want to be haunted by his face.