“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 sta
tions 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?
Late January 1942
She 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.
“Like I was saying, this is a swell job in New Jersey. It’s around Hoboken and I got a small place, but it’s enough room for Sophie and the baby. We got a real modern kitchen, a tile bath, a living room and a private bedroom. The rent is cheap, man, a lot cheaper than in New York.” Jimmy paused and smiled at Sophie.
“You gotta union in this place, Jimmy?” her stepfather asked.
“Don’t need no union, Emilio,” Jimmy said. He was the only one who called the old man Emilio. The other children called him Papá.
“That’s what you think now. But you see, you need a pension. Rights for the worker that include disability benefits, like in my place. We haven’t got all that yet, but we are working toward it. Look, let me give you the name of our …”
“We don’t need it there,” Jimmy interrupted.
“Let me give you the name anyway.”
“I ain’t promising nothing, okay?” said Jimmy.
“Fair enough!”
“I don’t believe in Communism,” Jimmy said.
“Getting help and decent wages, that’s Communism! That’s not good? Helping the poor, the masses, that’s Communism! That’s bad? Getting what you deserve instead of charity, that’s—”
“Okay,” her mother interrupted. “Everybody knows that, Emilio.”
“No! … not in this house, everybody does not know that!”
Ignoring her stepfather, her mother went on talking. “What about the draft? Eh, Jimmy, will they call you?”
“Well, if I can work for defense I may not have to go. Anyway, I’m not going to worry about that.”
“Now, where is this place again, Jimmy? What do you do there?” asked her mother.
“Mamá, I told you it hasn’t got a name yet. They just started it. I told you it’s in Hoboken, New Jersey. I’ll take you there as soon as we get settled.”
Her mother turned around and looked at her son Jimmy for a moment and asked, “What’s the exact address?”
“Look, I told you everything now, okay?” he said, almost shouting. “I have to go anyway. Sophie, you ready?” he said, annoyed. Sophie nodded and smiled at him.
“You don’t have to rush out, Jimmy,” her mother said. “Just because I wanna know where you are going and what you do. You know you got a young wife and baby now, my son. They are a great responsibility. You gotta do right by them, eh? You know that, don’t you?” she said affectionately. No one spoke and it got very quiet in the room.
“I’m joining the Army when I graduate,” said Victor. “I’ve already made up my mind.” Everyone turned to look at him; he had been very quiet. “I’m going to volunteer. I won’t wait to be drafted.”
“What?” her mother said, shocked. “Since when?”
“Since …” Victor looked at everyone. “I just told you,” he said softly.
“Man, Victor, don’t be a sucketa. What the hell are you joining up for?” Jimmy asked.
Victor, looking at Jimmy, said in a firm tone, “Because I believe in my country and I believe we should defend it.”
“Man, you wasn’t even born here; you was born in Puerto Rico. What country? What country you talking about?”
“Puerto Rico is part of the United States. And anyway, what if I was born there! I’ve been here since I was six years old and I am an American,” Victor answered.
“Oh, yeah?” Jimmy said, getting angry. “You’re a spic. You can call yourself an American, all right. But they’re gonna call you a spic!”
“If that’s the way you want to think about things, Jimmy, then I really feel sorry for you. You got no feelings for your own country. In this country, if you work hard you can be somebody, get an education and accomplish something!”
“First of all I was brought here, man. I didn’t ask to come! And in the second place, I don’t believe in that sucker stuff, Victor. You wanna believe that, okay! Go ahead. It is more blessed to take, baby, than to receive leftovers. That’s my motto. I don’t want for them to give me no shit. I take and I get.”
“What kind of talk is that?” her mother asked. Ignoring her, the two brothers went on arguing.
“You call taking what doesn’t belong to you honest? What isn’t yours, right?” Victor asked.
“I take it so it’s mine! What am I gonna do? Wait until I’m an old man, have nothing! Work all my life, like a slave, and then be nothing! Like him?” Jimmy shouted and pointed to her stepfather. Nilda had left Jimmy’s lap when the arguing started and now stood next to her two younger brothers.
“It’s better than shooting up that dope. And hanging around with hoods and criminals!” Victor said angrily.
“Stop it!” her mother said.
Jimmy started toward Victor. “Don’t talk like that to me, you fucking punk!”
Victor jumped up out of his chair. Nilda felt frightened and heard herself whimpering. Her mother stood between the two brothers. “Stop … stop! … Now look … a little peace in this house. For God’s sake! ¡Virgen María!” her mother shouted, almost in tears. Victor and Jimmy both stared at each other, not speaking or moving.
Aunt Delia, looking confused and worried, asked, “What is it? What? What is everybody saying? Why are the boys fighting?” Everyone ignored her.
“I musn’t have this. You hear? You musn’t do this. My children cannot fight like this. You are a family, brothers!” her moth
er said, standing firmly between them. The room was silent.
Nilda’s stepfather had his hand on Victor’s shoulder. “Calm down, son, you are gonna aggravate your mother,” he said.
Jimmy turned away from Victor, looked at his stepfather, and made a gesture of disgust. “Let’s go, Sophie. Move it.” Sophie jumped up quickly and left the room. Jimmy followed her. Everyone was very quiet.
“Let him go. I’m glad he’s going. He’s up to no good. He’s not my brother,” Victor said.
“Don’t you ever say that!” her mother shrieked. “Never, never! He will always be your brother. You don’t say that in my house!” Nilda saw her mother was trembling with rage. Victor looked at his mother for a moment, then lowered his eyes and walked out of the room.
“What?” Aunt Delia asked. “Whose house? Listen, what’s going on here? What did Victor say? I have to show him where the trouble is. It happened this morning again, to a family who opened the door to a stranger. You mustn’t let in strangers.” Going over to Nilda’s mother, she said, “Lydia, what do you think? I should show him. No? Lydia, where it all happened, right here in the paper.”
“Delia, go to sleep; it’s all over now. Everybody has to get up tomorrow. Go on to bed.” She spoke into Aunt Delia’s ear.
“Go on to bed, kids. Go on,” her mother said. “Emilio, you finished? Why don’t you go to sleep.”
“No, it’s all right, Lydia,” her stepfather said, sounding very tired. “I’ll wait for you.”
Nilda waited until Aunt Delia, Frankie and Paul had left, then said to her mother, “Mami, please let me say good-bye to the baby. Please.”
“Sure, but don’t stay long; tomorrow is school,” her mother said. Nilda was relieved that her mother was not so angry anymore. Picking up her blanket, she carried it to Sophie’s room. The door was shut. She waited a bit, then knocked very gently.
“Who’s there?” asked Jimmy.
“Me. Can I say good-bye to the baby?”
The door opened and Jimmy stood before her. “Look, Nilda, it’s late and we have to get going … and anyway, he’s asleep.”
“I know … but … just let me see him … to say good-bye, that’s all.”
Nilda Page 11
