Mofongo

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Mofongo Page 18

by Cecilia Samartin


  “Don’t you think we’re making a little too much?” Sebastian asked.

  “I was worried that maybe we weren’t making enough,” Lola replied while turning up the heat. “You see, whenever I make beans, people tend to crawl out of the pavement like cockroaches.”

  The only people Sebastian could imagine showing up to eat beans on this day were Terrence and Charlie Jones. Maybe his mother would stay for a little while on her way home from work, but he doubted it.

  Lola placed her hands on her hips and studied her grandson for a moment or two. “I’ve been noticing something different about you lately,” she said. “But I can’t put my finger on what it is.”

  “I’ve been gaining weight,” Sebastian replied, reaching for the peppers. “Dr. Lim was real happy about it the last time I saw him.”

  Lola nodded. “Yes, you’ve been filling out nicely, but there’s something else I see, something sparkling in your eyes.”

  To know that his grandmother could see what he felt inside was wonderful, and he stood up straighter and chopped the peppers all the more vigorously, feeling more like himself than he ever had before in his life. Perhaps this was the right time to bring up the subject of his surgery, but whenever he thought about it, he was confronted by the harsh reality of his parents’ growing animosity toward one another. He doubted that they would ever agree on anything again, least of all his surgery.

  “Jennifer says that Mom and Dad are getting divorced, and there’s nothing we can do about it,” he said, glancing at his grandmother as he worked.

  “Your sister has always had very strong opinions about things,” Lola said. “What do you think?”

  “I don’t know,” Sebastian replied. “Mom says that she needs time and space to figure things out.”

  “Yes,” Lola said. “We could all use a little more time and space, don’t you think?”

  Sebastian thought about this, but as far as he could tell, time was running out, and it shouldn’t be wasted. And what’s more, he feared that if his mother took more space than she already had, she would disappear completely and never be found again. He didn’t quite know how to express all of these things he thought and felt, so he mumbled, “I don’t know,” again, and then he asked, “Abuela, do you think that sometimes people can see things that other people can’t see?”

  “Absolutely,” she replied. “In fact, I believe this happens more often than we realize.”

  “You do?” he asked, looking up from his work suddenly encouraged.

  “Of course I do. I’ll tell you a story about your Uncle Mando that may surprise you. “As confident and successful as he is today, you’d never guess that when he was about your age he was deathly afraid of the dark. He even refused to get up in the middle of the night to go to the bathroom which didn’t help with his bed wetting problem,” she said, chuckling. “Don’t tell your uncle I told you that, or he’ll get very annoyed with me.”

  “I won’t,” Sebastian replied, and he suddenly felt quite proud to be unafraid of the dark, and he hadn’t wet his bed since he was in the second grade.

  “But it wasn’t just the dark he was afraid of,” Lola continued. “He told us that when he woke up in the middle of the night and looked into the darkest corners of his room, he’d see visions of strange people who he thought were trying to kill him. Whenever he saw them, he’d cry out at the top of his lungs for your grandfather to save him, waking everybody up in the process. Your grandfather had no choice but to bring him to our bed for the rest of the night to keep him quiet.

  “This went on for several weeks, but when we’d all had enough of these sleepless nights, your grandfather came up with a very clever plan. He decided not to wait until your Uncle Mando woke up in the middle of the night screaming, but to retire with him at the beginning of the night. He told Mando that he wanted to see these people who appeared in his room for himself.

  “Mando thought this was a wonderful idea and happily gave up part of his small bed for his father. That was the first night that Mando didn’t wake up screaming, and the night after that he slept all by himself without a problem. In fact, he never woke up screaming again and from what we could tell, he was completely cured of his fear of the dark.”

  “What did Abuelo Ramiro do?”

  “Well I’ll tell you,” Lola said, her eyes glittering. “That first night Mando woke up in a panic as usual, and he told your grandfather that there was a man and woman standing in the corner of the room, holding a big machete between them.”

  “Do you see them Pops?” he said. “They’re going to kill us.”

  “I see them,” Ramiro replied calmly. “But they haven’t come to kill us, son. They’re angels who’ve come to protect us from evil. From now on, when you see them, you can be certain that you’re safe. And when you don’t see them, it means that there’s nothing to fear.”

  Mando believed what his father told him, so he closed his eyes and went right back to sleep.

  Sebastian thought about this for a moment, a little confused. “But did Abuelo Ramiro really see the couple with the machete or did he just pretend to see them to make Uncle Mando feel better?”

  “Well, I’m not sure,” Lola replied. “But it doesn’t really matter does it? Mando was cured and we all slept very well after that because of it.”

  Sebastian continued to chop away, wondering if the strange people his uncle saw in the middle of the night were anything like the black haired old lady. He would much prefer it if she came at the same time every night because then maybe he’d be better prepared for her.

  Noticing her grandson’s preoccupation, Lola asked, “What have you seen that has you so worried?”

  Sebastian went to his book bag to get the picture he’d drawn, and then he held it out for her to see. “I see this old lady’s face. The first time I saw her was at the hospital when you were sick. At first I was afraid of her, but then it was like I knew her, and I wasn’t afraid anymore.”

  Lola stopped stirring when she saw the picture, and then quickly looked away. “What happened to her?” she asked.

  “I think that maybe she died the same day you woke up,” he replied. “But…” he stopped himself, certain that she’d think he was crazy if he told her the rest.

  “But what?” Lola asked gently.

  “I still see her sometimes, and I hear her voice telling me things. I don’t always understand what she means, but I think she’s trying to help me.”

  “What kind of things does she tell you?” Lola asked.

  “One time she told me to leave the after school program and come see you, and today she told me to hold my ground.”

  “Did you do it?”

  “I think so.”

  “And then what happened?”

  He shrugged, not sure how to explain it all. “This kid who always makes fun of me stopped, and I don’t think he’s going to make fun of me anymore.”

  Lola nodded knowingly, and then refocused her attention on the pot of beans. She was stirring so frantically, that some of the liquid splattered her apron.

  “Is she a ghost?” Sebastian asked, then he thought about it some more and said, “Or maybe she’s an angel like the angels who protected Uncle Mando when he was a little boy.”

  When Lola looked up again, her glasses were foggy, and Sebastian could barely see her eyes. “I don’t know, but it seems to me that if you’re getting good advice, you should continue to listen.”

  “But who is she Abuela?” he asked.

  “I don’t know,” Lola replied, but something in the way she said it without looking him in the eye, made Sebastian think that she might know who or what the black haired old lady was, and that she didn’t want to say.

  Over the years Sebastian had given his grandmother pictures that he drew at school so she could put them in a folder for safe keeping. He refolded the picture of the black haired old lady and set it on her rocker so that she could put it with the others, and said nothing more about it.

>   The beans were ready an hour or so later, and Lola ladled a small amount into a bowl for Sebastian to taste. He was amazed by how black the soup was, almost the color and consistency of tar, yet the texture was creamy and firm, and the seasoning was savory sweet and perfectly balanced. He dipped his spoon into the bowl again, marveling at the depth of flavor such a simple meal could possess. Lola had also made rice in the steamer which she said would be delicious with the beans, but Sebastian thought they were perfect all on their own.

  “I was making a big pot of beans the day the house caught fire. I never thought I’d make them again after that, and definitely not with you,” Lola said.

  Sebastian looked up from his bowl. She hadn’t brought up the subject of the fire in weeks, and he wondered if he should ask her about what his sister had told him, but just at that moment they heard footsteps on the front porch. It was far too early for Terrence to make an appearance so Sebastian assumed that it was Charlie Jones, who’d been showing up almost every afternoon for “delicious food and charming conversation” as he put it. He was stunned, therefore, to see Cindy standing on the porch, shading her eyes as she peered in through the screen door.

  Lola immediately stepped out from around the counter to open the door. “Cindy, what brings you here?”

  Cindy shook her head, looking just as mystified to see them as they were to see her. “I had an appointment at the hair salon, but I came here instead. I walked all the way from school.”

  “But that’s several miles,” Lola said. “Does your mother know you’re here?”

  “No, but she won’t miss me for another couple of hours. Anyway, I had to see you Abuela. I’ve been thinking a lot about Otto and Rubina, and I haven’t been able to eat for days.”

  “Well, there’s no need to get so upset,” Lola said, and she slid her arm through Cindy’s waist, and led her to the rocking chair.

  Cindy gazed up at her grandmother, her expression solemn. “I’ve decided that I’m not going to the hair salon ever again. You probably didn’t know this about me, but when I don’t go to the hair salon my hair gets dark and really wavy. I probably got this from Rubina don’t you think?”

  “It could be,” Lola said. “And your eyes have a slight almond shape to them, probably a Taino trait. Don’t forget, you have Taino blood running through your veins as well.”

  Cindy nodded, fascinated by this significant fact she had overlooked.

  “Abuela Lola and I just made some beans, would you like some?” Sebastian asked. His cousin reminded him of a wayward traveler who’d come home after a long and treacherous journey. He had the strange desire to throw his arms around her and welcome her back.

  “It’s an old family recipe,” Lola said.

  “Rubina’s recipe?” Cindy asked, hopefully.

  “Perhaps,” Lola replied, and she went to the kitchen for additional bowls and spoons. She hadn’t yet returned to the table when Charlie Jones appeared at the door with a loaf of fresh bread and a brilliant smile. Minutes later, Gabi showed up. She said that she’d been working out at the gym only a few blocks away, and didn’t know why it hadn’t occurred to her before that she could stop by on her way home for a snack and would plan to do so from now on.

  Terrence bounded up the steps a while later, and he brought a friend with him this time, a small bearded man with a long blond pony tail named Gary who he introduced as another musician. Terrence had been telling Lola about him, and how much he liked Creole food, and Lola suggested that he bring Gary next time for some good home cooked Puerto Rican food. Terrence took a seat next to Gabi, and they immediately began chatting like old friends.

  Pleasant conversation was buzzing all around the table, as Sebastian helped Lola distribute the bowls, and place the loaf of bread on the table, along with the rice she’d made and empanadas, little meat pies filled with savory chicken and pork she’d bought at a local bakery. They had just started to eat when the silhouette of two more people could be seen at the door. It was Sebastian’s mother and sister. Never had Jennifer come to Bungalow haven on a weekday, but after hearing about all that she’d missed during the Mofongo dinner she decided that she would drop by more often. She rushed up to her grandmother to embrace her and examine her new red hair. After a few approving comments, she eagerly took her place at the table, as though she’d been coming on a regular basis. Gloria hesitated at the door when she saw Cindy, but when she realized that Susan wasn’t there as well, she stepped in to join them.

  “You don’t have an excuse today Gloria,” Lola said, well aware of the reason for her apprehension. “Stay for awhile. I made a big pot of beans,” she added with a wink for her grandson.

  “I suppose we can stay for a little while,” Gloria said, pulling out the chair next to Jennifer’s.

  Jennifer had been uncharacteristically kind to her cousin when she heard that Cindy had decided to stop coloring her hair. And she became even more amicable when Cindy said that she hoped her hair would soon look like Jennifer’s. Jennifer gave Cindy a few tips on what products were best to use for wavy hair, and Cindy was so eager for this information that she wrote down what her cousin told her on the palm of her hand with a ball point pen.

  Later, the three cousins went out to the porch while the adults chatted and sipped their coffee inside. Gabi’s boisterous laughter could be heard above everyone else. Even Terrence was having a hard time matching it.

  “Aunt Gabi sounds like she swallowed a hyena,” Jennifer observed dryly.

  “I think she’s falling for Terrence,” Cindy said.

  “Oh she’s definitely gone,” Jennifer agreed. “But once she’s had her fun, she’ll drop him like a hot potato, you’ll see.”

  “You think so?”

  Jennifer nodded and put her feet up on the railing. “Aunt Gabi’s a player. She needs variety to keep life interesting. That’s why she isn’t married with kids like most people her age. She’d probably just get bored if she did that.”

  “That’s kind of sad,” Cindy said.

  “Not really,” Jennifer replied with the confidence of one speaking from experience.

  They were silent for a while, and Sebastian laid back on the floor of the porch, reflecting on the wondrous fact that this day could easily qualify as the best day of his life. The only thing that would’ve made it better, was for his father to be there with them, and for Kelly Taylor to have been present to witness the miraculous happenings at the tether ball court earlier that day.

  “Hey, what do you think, little man?” Jennifer asked.

  “About what?”

  “What do you think about Aunt Gabi and Terrence?”

  Sebastian stretched his arms up over his head and said, “I think they’re going to get married and have a whole bunch of kids just like Otto and Rubina.”

  “That’s crazy,” Jennifer scoffed. “They haven’t even gone out on a date yet.”

  He stretched his legs out next, noting that his muscles felt a little tight. “I know, but that’s what I think. And you’re going to get married and have kids too.”

  “Who asked you?” Jennifer said, although she seemed somewhat intrigued by the idea.

  Dusk fell over Bungalow Haven, and beyond the hush of the evening, they heard the sound of running water and dishes clanking in the sink. Jennifer lit the candle on the little wicker table with matches she found next to it and the flame sputtered for a moment and then gained strength and grew into a tiny pillar of light, bright enough to illuminate the entire porch.

  “I wish I could come here every day after school,” Cindy said. “You’re lucky Sebastian.”

  He nodded, knowing that he was fortunate to have their grandmother more or less to himself, but something told him that this would be changing too.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Sebastian’s premonition turned out to be correct. On most days, Lola’s table was overflowing with family and friends who would drop by unannounced and they usually settled in for a good long visit once they
got a whiff of what was cooking on the stove. Charlie Jones had become a permanent fixture, but several other neighbors had made an appearance as well. Mrs. Abbot, the oldest resident of Bungalow Haven, had been there as had her daughter Belinda who looked almost as old as her mother. Cindy came by two or three times a week, and Jennifer tried to make it as often as she could, although Gloria and Susan never deigned to be present at the same time. They managed to avoid one another on weekdays and on Sundays their respective families would alternate and gather for a meal that could last all afternoon and well into the evening.

  At these times Lola was usually behind the kitchen counter, contributing to the conversation while she stirred and chopped, sprinkled and blended and stirred some more. Sebastian enjoyed working alongside her, and she relied on him to measure out the seasonings, or to prep the vegetables needed for the inexorable sofrito that he was by then able to prepare in his sleep. Even after a hot shower, he could still smell the garlic and onions on his finger tips, something he didn’t find in the least bit unpleasant.

  As Sebastian became more competent in the kitchen, Lola gave him increasingly difficult tasks to accomplish. Sometimes he was so engrossed with what he was doing that he’d lose track of the conversation in the dining room, but Lola, who worked diligently next to him the whole time, never missed a beat and would chime in with a word or a comment, making it quite clear that she’d been listening intently all along. But there is one thing Sebastian was very sure of: never during any of these conversations, did anyone say a word to Abuela Lola about moving away from Bungalow Haven. Her hair was still red, she still lit her numerous candles when the sun went down, and rarely was the flame on her stove turned off. Yet, they seemed to have forgotten all about it, and Sebastian wondered if his grandmother’s idea to do more of what she shouldn’t do had actually worked.

 

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