Once Jennifer had served beverages all around, Gabi, who was reclining back on the sofa next to Terrence, put her feet up on the coffee table and admired the roast suckling pig on the counter. “It’s been years since we’ve had cochinillo asado Ma, what’s the occasion?”
“The occasion is that this is the seventh Sunday in a row that I’ve made a meal for my family and friends, and I want to celebrate.” She raised her glass and everyone did the same, but Sebastian felt a heaviness come over him as he wondered if his father was eating a greasy cheeseburger for his dinner, or driving all around town in his jeep looking for something to do or someone to talk to. He glanced at his mother who looked pensive as she sipped her wine. She’d made it quite clear earlier in the week when Lola first spoke of her plans for the Sunday meal that she wouldn’t come if her husband was there. And if Susan was there, she threatened to never come again.
“Why can’t you put it behind you, Nena?” Lola had asked. “That thing between you and Susan happened so long ago, I can hardly remember what it was.”
“I remember that thing very well,” Gloria returned. “And I don’t want to talk about it anymore.
“Sometimes forgetfulness can be a blessing,” Lola returned.
For several days, Lola was in a quandary over what to do. She had invited everyone to her special meal and she couldn’t imagine uninviting anyone. The dilemma was solved for her when Mando announced that he and Susan would be going out of town for the weekend and wouldn’t be able to make it after all. Lola suspected that Susan had put up a fight of her own when she heard that Gloria would be there. Disappointed as she was, Lola wished her son a pleasant weekend away, and made him promise to come the following week.
After the meal, everyone moved away from the table to accommodate their expanded bellies. The meat had been juicy and flavorful, but Sebastian enjoyed the crispy pork skin best and found the concentration of fat, spice and smokiness to be exquisite.
“It’s almost like home, isn’t it?” Lola asked.
Gloria nodded and murmured contentedly.
“And yet, it’s not quite the same as it was on the island,” Lola said.
“I know I was only little when we left, but as far as I’m concerned, this is as good as I’ve ever had,” Gabi said.
“Ma’s right,” Gloria said wistfully. “Eating outside at one of the lechoneras in the hills, something about being there makes the food taste better somehow.”
“The best Lechon I ever had was the day before we left Puerto Rico,” Lola said.
“Why did you leave, Ms. Lola?” Terrence asked.
“Oh, so many reasons,” she replied with a wave of her hand. “My husband, may he rest in peace, had been wanting to come to the States for years. We kept hearing about how much opportunity there was, and how easy it was to find a job. Things weren’t getting any easier for us on the island. Eventually, I ran out of excuses and gave in.” Lola’s expression darkened after she said this, and it didn’t appear that she would say anything more.
“You were telling us about the best lechon you ever had in your life,” Sebastian said, eager to hear about the food part of her story.
“Yes I was,” Lola said, brightening up a bit. “My mother wanted to throw a big going away party for us, the first real party she’d thrown in years. People were coming from all over the island to say goodbye and of course, she wanted to roast the biggest lechon she could get her hands on. When my father was alive they enjoyed cooking side by side, but after he died I would spend most of the day outside with her as she stoked the coals and basted the pork.
“Once we get settled into our new place you can come visit us as often as you like,” I said as sweet smoke swirled all around us.
My mother didn’t say anything as she poked the embers with a long stick. She was never quite the same after my father died, and I assumed that whenever I found her pensive she was thinking about him.
Without looking up she asked, “Do you remember the last thing we ate before your Uncle Jorge was killed in that accident?”
How could I forget? He was killed on Christmas day, thrown from the back of a truck on his way home, and on Christmas Eve we always ate lechon.
“And how about before your father died?”
We were celebrating the baptism of Angelica’s new baby, and for these celebrations we always roasted a pig. She looked up with reddened eyes irritated by the smoke, and she appeared so frail at that moment, that I wanted to embrace her, but I held back. My mother was never one for emotional displays.
“I haven’t roasted a pig since then,” she said, “but today I thought it was worth the risk.”
“I didn’t know what my mother meant by that, but two weeks to the day after we left Puerto Rico, she died and then I understood perfectly.”
The room was silent for a moment or two as everyone absorbed Lola’s story.
“Honest to God, Ma,” Gabi said, breaking the silence. “You sure know how to put a damper on a meal.”
“It’s the truth. Would you rather I made up a happy lie?” Lola asked.
“Come on Abuela,” Jennifer said, crossing her arms. “I love your stories, but you don’t really expect us to believe that one do you? I mean, all those people would’ve died whether they’d eaten roast pork, barbeque chicken or nothing at all. It was just a coincidence.”
“There are no coincidences,” Lola replied severely. “Everything happens for a reason. Even if we don’t understand what it is at first, eventually we do.”
“But some things are random,” Jennifer insisted. “They don’t mean anything they just happen.”
“Like what?” Lola said. “Give me an example of one random thing that just happened in your life.”
“Okay, I will,” Jennifer said, accepting the challenge with a toss of her head. “When you think of all the billions of families I could’ve been born into, and that this is the one I ended up in, well…it was random, it just happened, and it doesn’t mean a thing.”
Hearing this Lola started to chuckle.
“Don’t laugh at me, Abuela,” Jennifer said, taking offense.
“Forgive me Jennifer, but you have selected the least random example of all.”
That night, Sebastian couldn’t sleep for thinking about what his grandmother said about the roasted pork, and the deaths that invariably followed. He kept waking up, certain that someone was watching him as he slept. At one point he thought Jennifer was crouching over him, but whenever he opened his eyes, there was nobody there. If he hadn’t been so spooked, he would’ve got out of bed to call Abuela Lola himself and make sure she was okay, for he had no doubt that she was the most vulnerable of all. And on the way to school the next morning, he urged his mother to drive by her house to check on her before dropping him off.
“She looked perfectly healthy last night, I’m sure she’s fine.”
“Please mom, let’s make sure.”
Gloria studied her son’s anxious face in the rearview mirror. “It’s because of that pork story your grandmother told us isn’t it?” she asked frowning. “That’s a silly superstition, Sebastian. Smart people don’t allow superstitions to control their emotions. The lechon had nothing to do with anybody’s death. Do you understand me?”
He nodded. “Okay, but can we go to Abuela Lola’s house just in case?”
Gloria sighed and then turned to say something more, and in the split second she took her eyes off the road, the traffic light turned, and a group of children began crossing the intersection. It was only after Sebastian screamed that she slammed on her breaks, and they lurched violently forward in their seats, narrowly missing the children.
Sebastian would’ve run all the way to Abuela Lola’s house after school if he could. He told himself that if anything had happened to her, the office staff would’ve called him out of class the way they always did when people had ‘family emergencies’. But then he remembered that he was the one who’d found his grandmother lying on the kitchen flo
or and that if anything had gone wrong, he would probably be the one to find her again. When he played footsie tether ball, he hoped to see the black haired old lady’s face, but she didn’t reveal herself to him this time. He wasn’t able to concentrate on his school work and when Kelly Taylor smiled at him after he gave the correct answer for the capital of Norway, he was so preoccupied and worried that he could hardly smile back.
All he could think about as he walked briskly to Bungalow Haven was yesterday’s pork that still weighed like a hunk of lead in his belly. By the time he arrived to Bungalow Haven, he was exhausted. The brisk walk had taken its toll on him, but he was almost there and once he saw her, all would be well again.
Sebastian mounted the porch steps and already he knew that something was wrong. The front door was closed and locked. In all the years that he’d been going to his grandmother’s house after school, the front door had never been locked. He started to pound on it with his fists. “Abuela Lola,” he shouted. “It’s me Sebastian. Please Abuela, open the door.” There was no answer, so he quickly made his way around to the side of the house and peered into the windows, but the drapes were closed and he couldn’t see in. As he walked back around, he noticed that the bathroom window was open, although it was far too high for him to reach from the ground. He rushed back to the porch to get one of the wicker chairs, certain that if he stood on it he’d be able to reach the bathroom window and shimmy through.
He was dragging the chair off the porch when he heard someone say, “What are you doing with my chair?”
“Abuela!” Sebastian cried. “You’re alive.”
“Of course I’m alive,” she said, glancing at her watch. “And you’re early, a good five minutes early.”
“I was worried so I left as soon as I could, and walked extra fast to get here.”
Lola slowly climbed the porch steps. She looked especially weary as she sat in one of the chairs to look for her house keys in her purse. She seemed preoccupied, and under the weather. Her eyes were swollen and her nose was red, as though she’d been blowing on it all day. She found her keys, but made no move to get up and open the door. Sebastian sat next to his grandmother and waited for her to say something, anything to let him know that things were alright, but she remained silent and took several long deep breaths.
Finally he asked, “What are we cooking today Abuela?”
She closed her eyes and said, “We’re not cooking anything today, Sebastian.”
“Why not?”
“Because I don’t feel like it,” she replied.
“Are you done cooking forever?” he asked, newly alarmed. “Is Terrence going to deliver your meals again?”
“No, I’m just not cooking today. I might cook tomorrow. We’ll see.”
Sebastian leaned back in his chair, and waited. He knew that it was best not to ask any more questions, and just knowing that his grandmother was alive and well gave him all the patience he needed for the moment.
A few minutes later she muttered, “I shouldn’t have made the lechon.”
“Why not?” Sebastian asked, his dread surging back.
Lola opened her eyes and said, “Charlie Jones died early this morning. They say it was a peaceful death, but he died alone, poor thing. He died alone.”
“It was a sad coincidence,” Gloria said as she drove Sebastian to school the next morning. “Mr. Jones lived a long life, and his passing yesterday had nothing to do with the lechon he ate the day before.”
“Abuela Lola says there’s no such thing as coincidence, and that everything happens for a reason.”
“Sometimes that’s true, but not always. Sometimes bad things happen for no good reason at all. It isn’t fair and it isn’t right, but there isn’t anything anyone can do to change it.” Gloria took a deep breath. “Anyway, you shouldn’t think about it anymore. Get your mind on something else.”
“Like what?”
“How about school? What have you been learning this week?”
“Capital cities,” Sebastian responded dully, his attention momentarily diverted by the leaves outside the window that looked very much like hands waving goodbye. ‘goodbye Mr. Jones,” they said, waving him away to heaven. ‘It was nice knowing you. And your new teeth weren’t so bad either. In fact, they were kind of nice.’
“Of countries or states?”
“Countries,” Sebastian replied, turning away from the window. To think that he would never again see Charlie Jones with his hat and cane was stranger than strange. How could he be there one day and gone the next? How could this life and death thing happen so fast? And worst of all, what if the lechon magic hadn’t finished yet?
“Sebastian,” Gloria said. “You’re not listening to me. What is the capital of France?”
Sebastian yawned. “Paris. That one’s easy.”
“Okay, how about Korea?”
“North or South?”
“Tell me both, if you know them.”
“Pyongyang, and Seoul.”
“You’re good,” Gloria said, genuinely impressed.
They drove in silence for a while, and then Gloria asked, “How’s that boy Keith been treating you lately?”
“He doesn’t bother me anymore,” Sebastian replied. “Ever since I beat him at footsie tetherball, he leaves me alone.”
“What’s footsie tetherball?”
“It’s a game I made up at recess. I play it when everyone else plays soccer, and then I can pretend that I’m playing too without getting tired.”
Gloria was silent during the rest of the drive to school.
Chapter Twenty-two
Ms. Ashworth stood before the class holding a large sealed envelope, as she always did when she was preparing to announce who she had selected to be the next student of the month. He or she would be the one exceptional student who had made the best effort to learn and follow directions - who was the kindest to his fellow students and who had the best attendance. Aside from the general prestige conferred upon the winner, they would be the first student dismissed from class at the end of the school day for an entire month. And if that wasn’t enough, a ten dollar McDonald’s gift certificate was also awarded. This instantly made the winner the most popular kid in class, as ten dollars was just barely enough to buy hamburgers for two, and everyone highly coveted an invitation to McDonald’s from the student of the month.
Because of his frequent doctor’s appointments and spotty attendance, it had always been impossible for Sebastian to win this distinction. He was shocked, therefore, when Ms. Ashworth tore open the envelope and read his name out loud for all to hear.
Everyone started to clap and cheer as Sebastian took hold of the edge of the desk to steady himself.
“Sebastian, would you please come up to the front of the class?” Ms. Ashworth said, smiling in such a way that let him and everyone know she was especially pleased about this month’s award.
His ears and cheeks burned as he made his way to the front where Ms. Ashworth directed him to turn and face his fellow students. “I’d like to say a few words about Sebastian, and then those of you who would like to add your own thoughts, please raise your hands before speaking out.” Placing a hand on his shoulder, she continued. “This month, I selected Sebastian because I wanted to recognize a student who has shown courage in the face of some pretty difficult challenges. We all know that Sebastian has certain physical limitations that don’t allow him to run and play like the rest of you, but he has adapted very well, he never complains, and he is an excellent student. For this reason, I decided to waive the attendance requirement for this month only.” She placed the student of the month medallion that looked very much like an Olympic medal over his head, saying, “Thank you for your courage and your kindness, and for being such an inspiring example to others.”
“You’re welcome,” he muttered while passing his hand over the medallion that rested over his chest. It was heavier than he expected.
“Now, who would like to share their tho
ughts with Sebastian and the rest of the class?” Ms. Ashworth asked. Sebastian was certain that nobody would want to add anything else, and was preparing to slink back to his desk when a couple of hands shot up from the back of the class.
“Go ahead Melanie, and then you can go next Mia,” Ms. Ashworth said.
“I like that you know your capital cities better than anyone,” Melanie said.
And Mia followed with, “You are a good drawer.”
Several more hands went up and compliments came fluttering down over his head like rose petals. “You have good handwriting”, “I like your shoes,” “You follow directions really well,” “You’re quiet when you’re supposed to be quiet,” “ You never yell and say bad words,” “You’re nice,” “You have big shiny eyes,”. And as his classmates cheerfully shared their compliments, his previous self consciousness was transformed into a pleasant glowing inside of him. If Ms. Ashworth hadn’t kept her hand on his shoulder, he might have floated up to the ceiling like a balloon. And just when he thought he’d heard all the good about himself he could possibly absorb, Kelly Taylor’s hand shot up.
Ms. Ashworth called her name, and Keith who’d been sulking and picking at the scabs on his hands since the announcement, swung his head around, incredulous.
“I think that Sebastian is…”
“Remember to talk to Sebastian directly,” Ms. Ashworth said.
“Oh I forgot,” Kelly giggled. “I think that you are the nicest and the smartest boy in class…”
“Thank you,” Sebastian replied, stunned and overwhelmed.
“I’m not finished,” Kelly said. “I think you’re nice because even when people make fun of you, you’re never mean back to them. I think you’re smart because you made up a new game. I never knew anyone who made up a game before. You’re the most specialist person I know.”
Sean cried out, “Oooooh, Kelly’s in love with Sebastian,” and several students started hooting and hollering.
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