Nilda

by Nicholasa Mohr

“He won’t ask,” Nilda said. “Anyway, I don’t care; I don’t even know him.” The two girls remained seated for a while longer. “I better go up, Sylvia; my mother says I have to help make some packages for my brothers.”

  “Walk me home, Nilda?”

  “I’ll walk you halfway. Okay?”

  “Okay.”

  They walked along the avenue; it was late in the afternoon and slightly cooler out. “Here we are, Sylvia. This is halfway.”

  “Okay. See you at school Monday.”

  “So long.” Nilda started back home, walking slowly.

  Every time she thought of Hector she felt embarrassed. He’s way older; I’ll bet he’s almost fifteen, and he’s Frankie’s friend, she said to herself, and recalled that cold night last winter when she had seen Hector running away from the police with Frankie, and she had met Chucho and Manuel. I wish that had never happened, she said to herself. Manuel had been in and out of the hospital since then; he had lost almost all the vision in his left eye. He was going in again for a second operation. Nilda remembered when Manuel first came out with a black patch over his eye; everyone had said he looked just like a pirate in a movie. Her mother had been beside herself with anger. “They would have killed you, Frankie, if they had caught you!” She had yelled and screamed at Frankie. Nilda thought of her mother’s constant lectures about boys, and decided that, at least for now, she would put this whole business out of her mind.

  Early December 1944

  Nilda hurried all the way home. She couldn’t believe what she had heard; and yet, everyone knew about it. At first she had been shocked, but now she felt a mixture of sadness and emptiness inside that she could not understand. Nilda felt sorry and frightened for Petra; she knew Petra’s parents well, especially her father. He’s so strict, thought Nilda. When Petra had stopped seeing her, Nilda had been heartsick and angry because they had been friends since kindergarten, but gradually she had become used to not seeing her friend.

  Sylvia had been with her that afternoon when she had heard the news. “Nilda, you know what? Your old ace, Petra, got kicked outa school, man. I heard she’s gonna have a baby!” Margarita Rojas had told her. “You know who it is, don’t you? It’s Indio. That’s what everybody’s saying. And you know he split; he joined the Navy.”

  “Are you sure you know what you’re talking about, Margarita?” Nilda had protested. “I don’t believe you.”

  “I don’t care if you do or not. You used to be tight with her, her best friend, and you don’t even know? I can’t help it if you didn’t even know about it. Go ask anybody you want. The whole school knows. Her father already came to school and signed her out and everything.”

  “That’s right, Nilda,” another girl had said. “She’s not jiving you. I heard all about it myself from Diana, who’s in her class and lives on her block. Go ask her; she’ll tell you.”

  Nilda had said nothing in reply, and had walked home with Sylvia, silent most of the way. Sylvia had tried to start a conversation a few times, but Nilda did not respond. Rushing up the steps, she thought, What’s her father gonna do to her? She remembered that he used to beat his daughters. Nilda entered the apartment and went to her room, putting away her books. Then she went into the kitchen; her mother was home.

  “Nilda? I left work a little early today; I had a lotta things to do and, at the factoría, things are a little slow this week. Anyway, I got bad news,” she said, and held up a letter. “Look, can you imagine? I just received a letter from that place in Lexington, Kentucky. Your brother cannot come home yet for two months! When I made my visit in July, they told me he would be home for Christmas, that his parole was almost granted already. Here now, they tell me he has to wait!” She shut her eyes, and Nilda could see she was almost in tears. “Paul cannot make it either. I’m sure, because he said if he could come home for the holidays, he would write us last week, and he still did not send any word.” She put down the letter. “I was hoping to have my family together this Christmas, at home and safe.” Nilda did not know what to say, so she listened silently. “They don’t tell nothing about Victor. At first they say he got enough points to come home. He was wounded in the shoulder and got a Purple Heart; that they tell me, but now I don’t hear nothing. What am I supposed to think?”

  “Mamá, it’s nothing bad … maybe he’s just still getting better.”

  “Maybe,” her mother said, shaking her head. “But I was planning something nice, something special. And now … some Christmas!”

  “Is Victor’s girl still coming for Christmas, Mamá?”

  “As far as I know, yes; that’s what she says. I don’t know any different, and I already wrote to her and her parents and told them that she will be looked after properly in my home. I have been waiting for an answer; maybe when she writes, she’ll tell me something about my son.”

  Victor had written her mother that he had been corresponding, since he had left for the Army, with a girl he had dated in high school. All during his stay in the service she had written to him, even when her family had moved to Connecticut. They now planned to become engaged when he returned home. She was of German-Irish descent, and Nilda’s mother had been worried about the girl’s family and their attitude. “I hope them people don’t start that business with us about us being Spanish, Puerto Rican or whatever nonsense, because I will not put up with any of it.” But so far the correspondence had been very friendly, and the young woman in Connecticut had sent a color photo of herself in her high school graduation cap and gown, signed: “To Victor’s mother and family, With love from Amy Shuster.”

  “She’s very pretty,” her mother had said, showing the photo to Nilda. Nilda saw a smiling face with fair skin, pink cheeks and light blue eyes. Her chestnut-brown hair was done up in a soft permanent wave and cut shoulder length. “I don’t know, Nilda,” her mother was saying, “somehow, this Christmas is important to me. One never knows if there is going to be another one.”

  “¡Mamá!” Nilda said. “What’s the matter?” Her mother looked at Nilda and quickly started to say something, then closed her lips tight and decided not to speak. “Mami?” Nilda said in a worried tone.

  “Never mind, nena. It’s nothing … it will be all right. What will be … well, we shall make the best of it. Like we always manage, okay?” Her mother smiled at her.

  “Okay.” Nilda returned her smile, relieved that her mother seemed less depressed. Then she thought about Petra. “Mamá, something happened at school.”

  “What happened?”

  “I heard something … something about Petra.”

  “Petra? What is the matter with her?”

  “Well … they say …” Nilda hesitated. “They say she’s gonna have a baby.”

  “A baby!” Her mother’s eyes widened. “Petra? Pregnant? You are fooling me, Nilda!”

  “No, Mamá, that’s what somebody told me and Sylvia this afternoon. They said her father signed her out.”

  “Who told you? Are you sure?”

  “Everybody knows it, Mamá. Believe me, I asked. And she’s no longer in school.”

  “Do they know the boy that is responsible for this?” her mother asked angrily.

  “They say it’s Indio.”

  “Indio? From Frankie’s club? Didn’t that boy join the service, the Army or Navy?”

  “Navy, Mamá; he left in the summer. He didn’t go back to school; he quit. Like Paul. Remember you said, ‘Just like Paul, he don’t wanna finish school’.”

  Her mother shook her head. “Poor Petra, poor fool. ¡La pobrecita, bendito! If I know that rotten Jorge López, I don’t know what he would do to that boy if he caught him. Maybe it’s better for him that he’s away in the service. Because that man would kill Indio for what he did to his daughter. He’s so nasty and prejudice, he hates dark people, and that Indio is darker than Paul. Well, I know Indio’s parents, the Carrions, and they are very nice people; maybe they can work it out so that their son will do right by this girl and protect he
r honor.” Her mother made the sign of the cross. “What a disgrace that girl has brought to her family. What a shame!”

  There was a short pause and Nilda wondered what she should say, perhaps in defense of Petra. Her mother’s voice was sharp and angry. “Nilda! Look at me!” Nilda looked at her mother. Her mother walked up to her and, standing in front of her, shouted, “You don’t disgrace me. You don’t bring me shame. Nilda! When you want to fool around, think of that girl, think of Petra. What kind of life will she have? Finished, no more school, no more fun—no more nothing!”

  Nilda continued to sit silently, frightened; she did not dare say a word. Her mother seemed very angry; she had stopped speaking and had sat down, covering her face with her hands. Nilda watched her and worried, wondering what her mother might be thinking. “Mami,” she said softly, “are you all right?”

  Without lifting her head, her mother said, “I’m all right, Nilda. Go do your homework; leave me; go on.”

  Nilda left the kitchen and entered her room. What’s she so mad about anyway, thought Nilda. Petra’s gonna have a baby, not me! She thought of her friend. Wow, a baby! she whispered to herself. And for the first time in a very long while, she remembered Baby Jimmy. Once, about a year ago, she recalled that she had asked her mother if they would ever go to visit Baby Jimmy. “He’s no longer ours, Nilda,” her mother had said. “You must stop asking about him and thinking about him. Sophie is married to somebody else; Jimmy did not do right by that girl.”

  Nilda had never mentioned the baby again, and hardly thought about him anymore. But now, this afternoon, she vividly recalled what he had looked like when she first saw him, and what it had felt like to say good-bye when her brother and Sophie had taken him away.

  Nilda sat down and, opening her schoolbooks, stared at her homework assignment for a long while. She closed the books and took out a piece of white paper and a fountain pen, and began to write to her brother Paul.

  Dear Paul,

  How are you? I am fine. I hope you can come home for Christmas. Mama wants to have a party if you do. Maybe Victor can come too. So far we do not know for sure. Only what I wrote you last about him getting the medal and about him being wounded in the shoulder. Anyway, his girl is coming to stay here Christmas. She lives in Connecticut. Mama is going to ask her if she knows whether Victor will be coming home or not. She sent us a picture of her in a graduation cap and gown. She is very pretty. Mama says that they are very friendly. Her name is Amy Shuster. We are not really sure if she is coming here but we think so. I don’t know about Jimmy’s parole, but Mama said he will not be coming home for Christmas, that is definite. She got a letter from them. He is all cure from the drugs, and Mama says he will have a job and go back to school. Maybe drafting, you know he is good in math.

  I heard some bad news and I feel sorry for Petra. You know Indio? Well they say Petra is going to have a baby and that it is Indio who is the father. I knew he was her boyfriend for a long time, and many times she had asked me not to say nothing. I never did because I was not going to snitch on nobody, especially if it is not my business. I told Mama about it and she starts to holler at me. Saying I should not do nothing wrong, and I don’t even have a boyfriend even. Anyway she is very nervous. I hope she calms down and stops picking on me.

  Aunt Delia is fine and still reading the newspapers and warning everybody in the whole neighborhood about murderers and getting attacked. Frankie quit his job at Mr. Fox’s and is now working for Western Union, but Mami don’t like it because he has to go out of the neighborhood. He is always talking about joining the Air Force, you know he loves airplanes. I sure hope you can come home for Christmas we all miss you. Mama wants to invite Aunt Rosario and her family. I like her except sometimes she is too bossy. Claudia is nice. This summer when I stay with her, (remember I told you when Mama went to that place in Lexinton, Kentucky to see Jimmy) she shared her things with me. But that Roberto thinks he is hot stuff and I think he just stinks. He is a spoil brat and I will tell his mother so if he gets smart next time with me, I am not scared of him one bit.

  You ask me about school, well all I can say is I am doing alright. My teacher this year is a little bit better than the one I had last term, except she hollers too much. And I still have that dopey Miss Reilly for Spanish. I’m gonna take French if I have her again next year, I swear to you. Dont worry Paul, I will not leave school, and I am working on a drawing for you. When I finish it I will mail it out to you if you still want it. Well, that is it, I guess. Tell me how you liked that place Tia juana in Mexico, if you did go there after all. Please take care of yourself. I miss you very much. If you can come home for Christmas, please write. I will invite my girlfriend Sylvia. I told you she’s got a crush on Frankie still, but don’t say nothing or she will never speak to me again. Send me more pictures of all the places you go to. I love to have them and show them off at school.

  Well that is it. Love and kisses from me and Mama and Aunt Delia and love and hugs

  Your loving sister,

  Nilda xxxxxxx

  P.S. Petra got kicked out of school, If you know where Indio is, since he is also in the Navy, maybe you can tell him.

  Love N.

  April 1945

  She sat quietly, watching the buildings, shops and crowded streets slip by as the bus moved steadily along. It was late in the afternoon and Nilda felt a warm breeze and bright sunlight coming in through the open window above her seat. She held on to a package in her lap; it was filled with a box of tissues, toilet water and a jar of hard candy. These were the things she always brought to her mother. Nilda glanced at Aunt Rosario, who sat silently beside her. She was younger than her mother, a little bit taller, but she had the same coloring and a similar way of expressing herself. She’s so bossy, Nilda said to herself. Always telling me what to do. I wish she would go back to the Bronx and leave me alone. Always acting like I’m a baby.

  Her mother had been in and out of the hospital twice before in the past four months since Christmas. This time her mother had been in for almost three weeks. During that time Aunt Rosario had spent weekends at the apartment with Nilda, and many evenings as well. Now, Aunt Rosario had been with Nilda for the past three days.

  Nilda thought about her mother and became frightened as she remembered what Aunt Rosario had told her when she returned from school this afternoon. Her manner toward Nilda had been soft-spoken and considerate. “Nilda, honey. We got a call this morning from the hospital, about your mamá. She is very sick again. In fact, we had to send out telegrams to Paul and Victor; she might get worse.” Aunt Rosario had put her arms around Nilda. Confused and upset, Nilda had not been able to respond. “Let us pray and hope that she pulls through. If she doesn’t, then we must have a talk. Yes? You and me.” Nilda had nodded, unable to answer her. “Get ready now; we have to go to the hospital right away. I’ve been waiting for you. I’ll take Frankie tonight to see your mamá. It’s not visiting hours now, but Lydia is on the critical list; we got special permission to go anytime.”

  Aunt Rosario reached over and lightly tapped her arm. “We get off here, Nilda.”

  She was quite familiar with the hospital by now. The first time she had come to visit her mother, the nurse at the desk had asked her age. Aunt Rosario had answered loudly and sharply, saying Nilda was sixteen. “You have to come in to see your mother, Nilda,” Aunt Rosario had said, determined. “You must attend to her needs. You are her only daughter; she has no one else. We cannot count on Delia.”

  They took the elevator up to the fourth floor and went down a long, narrow, windowless corridor, arriving at the very end at a set of double doors leading to a small ward. No one was about, and they walked swiftly inside. Her mother’s bed was in the middle of the ward; Nilda saw heavy green cloth partitions near the sides of the bed.

  Her mother lay back. Her long black hair had come loose and fallen down over her shoulders, covering her breasts, barely touching her folded hands, which rested on her stomach. Her eyes
were shut. Leaning over, Nilda gently kissed her mother on the forehead and, standing back, waited.

  Her mother slowly opened her eyes and looked at her. Recognizing her and Aunt Rosario, she said, “Nilda? What are you doing here? Is it visiting time?”

  “Lydia, how are you, eh?” Aunt Rosario said, and kissed her. “Nilda, give your mother the package.” Nilda handed her mother the brown paper bag she had been carrying.

  “Put it there on the table, nena,” her mother said.

  “I got them candies you like, Mamá. Hard candy, you know, the round ones, different colors and flavors.”

  “Open it, honey … take some … go on.” Nilda took out the jar of hard candy, opened it and offered some to Aunt Rosario.

  “No, thank you,” she said.

  “Mamá?” Nilda asked, handing her the candy.

  “No, honey … you take … go on.” Nilda looked at the jar and took out one red and one yellow candy, popping them both into her mouth. She sucked the hard candy, and the sweetness melted in her mouth, down into her throat, helping to take away the dryness she felt.

  “Do you want me to comb your hair, Lydia?” Aunt Rosario asked.

  “Yes … Rosario, maybe you better. I feel like such a mess. The nurses have been busy and I hate to bother them to comb my hair. I feel too dizzy to do it myself. Braid it for me, will you? Just make two long braids, nice and tight, so that it will stay neat for a while.” Aunt Rosario rearranged the pillows, and then began to comb her mother’s hair. “How’s Delia?”

  “Ave María, Lydia,” said Aunt Rosario. “She’s wackier than ever. Now she’s got it into her head that she don’t trust the numbers man, and wants a receipt. She insists that he used to give you one! She’s going to drive him crazy. The other day she followed him down the street, calling after him for a receipt.”

  Her mother smiled, shook her head and said, “Jacinto has still not recovered from last summer.” Both women laughed. “And my Frankie … is he going to school, or giving you a hard time?”