by Yamaya Cruz
She was panicking, and she unintentionally belted out hammer punches and jumping back kicks that I skillfully swept and dodged. She was way too fast for me, and she managed to catch me square in the jaw with a flying round house kick. It knocked me clear off of my feet. And I grimaced as I felt the ooze of fresh blood and the crackle of dislodged teeth.
With an undying determination, I shot back up again and continued to lift her up, trying to take some pressure off the noose. Gravity and fate seemed to be on our side because the branch, no longer able to hold Maria’s massive weight, gave way. It snapped, breaking clearly in half, causing her to throttle full force to the ground. I sighed with relief as I collapsed a few feet next her.
I felt like I had just fought twelve rounds in a boxing ring. The snow was cold, but soothing, I nestled my face in it and felt the pain in my jaw throbbing almost as fast as my beating heart. I looked over and saw that Maria was sprawled out on her back. She lay on the ground, like she was nailed to an imaginary cross. She looked possessed, coughing incessantly while lifting her torso off the ground. I crawled over to her on all fours.
“Nelly, I can’t live with what I’ve done,” she said in a raspy voice between coughs.
I was speechless. I didn’t know what to say.
She squinted, turned to the side and buried her face in the snow. “They took everything from me,” she said.
“Who?”
“The shadows.” “What?”
“The shadows. The shadows. The shadows,” she wailed. “Maria, stay here. I’m going to get help,” I said.
“No, Nina. Let me die, nobody can help me,” she said.
But I knew someone who could help her. I ran into the house and rummaged through the kitchen drawer and found Chobo’s phone number. I was surprised by how fast he got to the house, especially in the snow. Maria was still outside. I suppose that she was like a walrus with enough blubber to keep her warm. Chobo ran over to her and reached out his hand to help her up. I could see that he was struggling to pull her up. I could have ran over and helped, but I decided against it. A part of me was a little upset with Maria. Seeing her swinging from a tree had knocked some sense into me. She was all that I had left, and without her, I wouldn’t be able to survive.
They walked into the house and Chobo called for me to follow them. I sat on the sofa and just looked at Maria like she was some kind of circus freak. It was kind of like going to Ripley’s Believe it Or Not and seeing all the bizarre people in photos; it was just too weird to be true. Maria was a lot of things, but she wasn’t weak.
“Get her some tea,” Chobo said.
I quickly obeyed. Happy that I was able to leave Maria’s side, it killed me to see her that way. My jaw was still throbbing. I ran my tongue over my molars; they were loose like piano keys with their own cords of pain. I needed to see a dentist. I pressed lightly on my cheekbone and grimaced because the insides were moist and tender. This sucks, that’s what I get for trying to save someone’s life. Maybe I should have let her die. After all, she would have killed herself if I hadn’t walked outside and found her dangling from a fucking tree. I shook my head and turned on the faucet. I found myself missing my mother. I had to admit, she was a lot of things but she damn sure wasn’t suicidal. I placed the tea bag in the mug and walked into the living room.
“What happened to your face?” Chobo asked.
I looked over at Maria before I replied, “It was an accident.”
Chobo just shook his head. He was turned away from me so I couldn’t read his expression. But I got the weird feeling that he was angry.
“Does it hurt?”
“No, not really.” I lied. For some reason, I didn’t want to make Maria feel any worse than she already did. I really couldn’t understand why I was so concerned about her feelings; she certainly wasn’t worried about mine.
“Turn up the heat,” Chobo said.
“Maria. What were you thinking?” I overheard Chobo say. “I can’t live like this anymore,” she said.
“What about the girl? You’re all that she has right now,” Chobo said.
“I’m just going to fail her, like I failed everybody else,” Maria said.
“No, you got to stay strong, Maria. I remember the person you used to be, you’re not like that anymore,” he said reassuringly.
“I know but every day is a struggle. I try to turn my shit into gold, but it’s just too much,” she said with her voice prattling right before she buried her head in her hands and burst into tears.
I just stood and watched in awe. It was the first time that I had ever seen Maria cry. In fact, it was the first time that I had ever seen her show any emotion, aside from being mean.
“You need to bury the dead,” he said in a whisper and taking his hands in hers.
“Memories of the past belong to the dead. They need to be buried properly. If not, they rot inside of you,” he said, lovingly stroking her hair.
He looked back and saw me standing behind him.
“Nina, come here and sit next to you abuela,” he said.
“Do you know what kills the spirit?” he asked. I shook my head. Maria didn’t answer.
“Memories that drain your personal power,” he said.
“Bad memories are bad spirits and they feed off your personal power, picking at you until theirs is nothing left,” he continued.
“Fear, shame, doubt, and anger are all signs of a dwindling spirit,” he said.
We were both speechless. Chobo could silence anybody, even a wailing child. He just had a way about him.
“Both of you have been giving your power away. You’re giving it away to the spirits of the past,” he said pointing his finger.
Hey, I was guilty of that; I spent most of my days thinking about the past.
Chobo paused and looked at me. He opened his mouth like he was about to say something but then decided not to.
“You haven’t done any of the work I asked you to do,” he said sounding a little disappointed.
“Now, you need to work on your personal power, and that means working with Oggún,” he said.
“I will follow up within the next couple of days to tell you what you need to do,” he said while looking away. He didn’t want to look me in the eyes.
I nodded my head. There was a long moment of silence. Chobo cleared his throat, and I thought that he was going to get up and leave. Instead he turned toward me.
“Nelly, can I talk to your abuela alone for a few moments?” he asked kindly.
I slowly stood up and made my way to the stairs. I was going to go to my room, but saw that Maria’s bedroom door was left open. Maria’s room was strictly off limits. She was always home when I was home so I never got a chance to go in. Now was the perfect time. I wasn’t surprised by how clean the room was. However, I was a bit pissed off when I saw the flat screen television. Maria was holding out on me.
The room was sparsely furnished with a bare wood floor. It smelled of lilac and mothballs. I walked further into the room and examined pictures on her armoire. Oh my goodness, these are her sons. There were eight by twelve framed photos of my uncles at various ages. Some were taken many years ago when they were young. They posed for the camera while ripping wrapping off of gifts, showing their gabbing, toothless smiles. Then, there were others when they were older and more mature. They posed in the traditional prisonlike positions.
There was one photograph in a white frame with the words my wedding etched across it. I looked closer and saw a very thin and beautiful Maria in a white tea length dress, with a boat neck top and empire waist. She wore silky white gloves that covered half her arms. She was smiling widely, almost like the camera had caught her laughing. She was holding up a giant bouquet. I grimaced when I saw Nico standing next to her with his arm wrapped around her. I squinted as I forced myself to look at him. Man, he was ugly. But in the picture he stood with the arrogance of a tyrant; his shoulders were broad and he had a full head of hair. His eyes were sparkling,
and he had a very peculiar grin on his face. He looked like a man who had a considerable amount of power.
There was a jewelry box. I pulled open the little compartments; they were all empty except for one. I yanked on it hard and spotted a gold plated ring that was encrusted with diamonds. I slipped it on my finger; it was almost a perfect fit. I went to put it back in the drawer when I decided to stuff it in my pocket. I paused when I realized that there was a small compartment that I had overlooked. I wedged it open with my finger and gasped when I spotted the rolls of hundred dollar bills. Yes. I counted each one slowly. My goodness, she had almost eight thousand dollars here. I stuffed the bills in my back pocket and made my way down the stairs.
I didn’t feel guilty about taking the ring or the money. Like Chobo said, it was in the past and it was best to not worry about it. Besides, Maria was willing to kill herself and leave me behind. The best thing that she could do was let me have her ring and money. I paused at the top of the landing. Chobo was still there, hunched over and talking to Maria.
“I’m scared that she’s going to find out what I did. I just can’t live with the guilt anymore. I want to try and make things right, but I just don’t know how,” Maria said.
“You’ve got to understand that your fear isn’t real; you’re imagining the worst possible outcomes and it makes you afraid to feel, to let go. Maria, you don’t do brujeria anymore,” he said.
“I know, but I wish that I could do something to help the girl,” she said wiping her tears with her hand. . “What did I tell you to do?” Chobo asked.
“You told me to work with Oshún,” she said shaking her head. “Yes, she is the Orisha that heals the heart. You have a lot of blocks Maria, that all come from your past with Nico, blocks that cause you to judge yourself harshly. You can’t love because the times that you did love, you ended up feeling vulnerable and violated. These are the bad spirits that I am talking about.”
“But you don’t understand what I’m living with.” Maria interceded.
“Wait a minute, Maria. You need to stop mourning your past. Things come into play to teach us lessons and help us understand who we are so we can create balance with all the Orishas,” Chobo said.
“I know.”
“No. You don’t know, Maria. You think that you know and that’s the problem. This is not brujeria, where you can just get angry and solve all of your problems. No, this is different, it involves hard work, and that means forgiving others including yourself,” Chobo said silencing Maria.
She just put her head down like a schoolgirl being reprimanded. “Oshún works with women and their broken families. You need to reach out to her to gain a deeper connection to the spirit world,” Chobo said.
“How do I do that?’” Maria mumbled.
“Love, you do it through unconditional love. Once you’ve learned how to do that then you’ll have the healing power to help your grandchildren,” he said, adjusting his cane and leaning back in his chair.
“One is already gone, a lost cause. He’s going to end up in jail like his uncles.” Maria snuffed.
“No, I wouldn’t say that. I’ve been keeping an eye on him,” Chobo said.
“The police are looking for him. If they find him they’re going to haul his ass in.” Maria said.
“No, I’m going to try and get to him first; he’s hanging out at that squatters place on Third Street and Broad,” Chobo said.
“How’s he doing?”
“Still working for Nico,” Chobo said.
“I can’t believe that I used to be married to that man,” Maria balked.
“Don’t worry about that now; the only thing that you can do is keep an eye on the girl and be strong.” Chobo said, lifting his head up and looking my way. I cowed away and huddled into the corner, hoping that he hadn’t seen me ease dropping.
“Nelandez, you can come down now,” Chobo said reaching deep into his pocket and pulling out a business card. He flattened it against the table, took out an ink pen and began to write.
“I’m writing my cell phone number on here, so you can contact me if you need anything,” he said with a wink.
“You both have to take care of each other.” Chobo said as he leaned against his cane and stood upright.
I rushed to the closet and got his coat and hat for him. He placed it on his head and just stared at me for a brief moment. I walked him to the door and watched him get into an old Buick. He drove off. I missed him before his car got halfway down the street; he brought a certain feeling of peace to an otherwise cold and empty house. I took a long breath and realized that he had brought something that I missed so very much, love.
I couldn’t sleep. I kept thinking about Ali. I had new information on him, and like a cop with a suspect on the prowl, I just wanted to hunt him down and bring him in. I flipped the covers off of me, counted the bills again and decided that I needed to go and look for him. I needed to understand why he did what he did. I needed to understand why he chose to stay away. Most importantly, I needed him because he was my brother whom I loved. There were butterflies in my stomach and my heart began to flutter; yes it seemed that emotions that had been cloaked in darkness for so long were now beginning to reveal themselves. I soon recognized the feeling inside of me was hope. I was hoping that I could bring Ali home, so we could all be a family again.
~ ~ ~
Chapter Nineteen
I had to admit that I was more rebellious in theory than I was in practice. I had envisioned myself as a tough guy, as a bonafide female gangster, but the truth of the matter was, I was scared as shit. I shivered in the cold while I waited for the bus to arrive. I kept looking over at a gaggle of boys who were incredibly loud and annoying. I crossed my fingers and stuffed them deep into my pockets, hoping that they weren’t going to do anything to me. All four of them hunched down in a huddle, whispering. I saw them shake their heads, and I watched one boy’s mouth move. I wished that I could read lips. I could tell that the conversation was getting heated. One boy pulled away and started to walk over to me.
“Hey, aren’t you Ali’s sister?” he questioned. I eyed him skeptically before I shook my head.
“See man, I told you,” he yelled over his shoulder.
“What? You looking for him or something?” another boy asked, making his way over to me.
I didn’t want to speak, out of fear that they would see that I was completely terrified. So I just shook my head.
“We’re going that way. You can roll with us,” one of the boys said with a half-smile. I looked at all the boys and realized that they were about the same age as Ali. We all stood outside on the platform waiting for the number twenty-seven bus. The bus driver pulled up. He eyed me and looked over to scorn the batch of boys that were standing behind me.
“You boys better not be looking for no trouble.” He warned with an old man’s smoky voice.
The boys began to laugh. One boy, who I learned was called Diablo, walked to the entrance of the bus, swaggering like a seventies pimp. He reached into the crevice of his jacket and began to fumble around like he was unhooking a gun from a holster. He quickly pulled his arm out and everyone, including the bus driver jumped as he pointed his finger and then flexed his hand in the shape of a pistol.
“Bam, Bam, you’re dead motherfucka,” he screamed with zeal.
Everyone thought that it was funny, except for the bus driver and me. I knew how it felt to be scared for your life. He moved with top speed as he pulled his lever, slamming the bus doors shut. I watched him shove his foot down on the gas pedal. The engine roared and the bus sped off, the tires squealed while leaving dark tracks on the asphalt pavement.
“That was funny as shit man.” One of the boys said this while he walked over to give his friend a pound.
“Yeah, did you see the look on that bastard’s face?” said the second one.
“That shit was crazy, nobody saw that coming,” the third one said, egging him on.
The boys continued to l
augh while rehashing the event. Fifteen minutes later, another bus pulled up. This time, the driver was a tiny Spanish woman. I watched her pull out her black rosary beads from around her neck and rest her thin lips on the small cross. The four boys climbed on. Diablo was right behind me. He kneeled and seemed to be whispering something to her in Spanish. I had no idea what he said to her, but her face lightened up. Diablo climbed on the bus and sat next to me.
“What did you say?” I asked. He looked over at the other three boys who were leaning over the chairs and cursing loudly at each other. He then answered me in a loud whisper.
“I told her that you are going to be okay,” he said smiling.
At first, I didn’t know what he was talking about. But then I realized that people didn’t think too highly of a girl with a swollen jaw and busted lip, hanging out with a bunch of rowdy boys. I suppose that the bus driver did not want the displeasure of having to identify me in a morgue, or cocooned in a body bag or worse yet, on the back of a milk carton. The bus stopped and I followed the boys out the back door. I looked around and realized that we weren’t far from the building were Ali and I lived as squatters. We walked down the sidewalk and stopped in front of a gang of men who were shooting craps.
“Hey Ali man. You got a visitor,” Diablo said.
Ali stopped, stood up and just stared at me. My heart shook like an incubator. I had spent the last four years being angry about what happened to mom, but now, at that very moment, I couldn’t speak. I just wanted to run up to him and throw my arms around him. He was a whole head taller than me, with muscular arms and legs. He had fresh tattoos painted on his neck and along his knuckles. His hair was longer, but braided back into tight corn-rolls. He had a square jaw, large penetrating eyes and a gold tea.
“What the fuck?” Ali spat. My heart sank. He wasn’t happy to see me?
“Who brought her here?” Ali asked turning around in circles. The boys were silent and just looked at each other, until one of them spoke up.
“Diablo said that we should bring her with us. I told him you wasn’t going to like but —”
