When I Knew You

by Desireé Prosapio

  After that exchange, I found myself wondering if this bingo hall was tied in with the Mexican Mafia or something. The muffled sound of the caller leaked through the walls and I heard a shriek of "Bingo" and the collective groan of the crowd.

  We'd played the Mexican version of bingo, Loteria, when I was a kid at the church festivals. I recognized all too well the agony of only needing the corazon when someone next to you suddenly shouted bingo.

  The maroon loveseat and matching chair across from the desk looked inviting, but I was still too wound up to sit down, despite Esther's insistence. I was checking my phone for the tenth time, when the door opened and Abuela came in.

  "Kati!" she said, rushing to me.

  "I wasn't sure if you were coming," I said, holding her tight, feeling like I was nine-years-old all over again.

  She pulled back and looked at me as if searching for something in my face. "Kati, I don't think we should stay in here for long. But there's something very important I need to tell you. It's about Javier."

  "Javier Bonita?" I asked.

  "Yes," she said. She unzipped her jacket and sat down on the loveseat. I sat on the edge of the chair.

  Abuela looked away, her hand over her mouth for a moment. Then she took a deep breath and met my gaze. "I—I never thought I'd have to talk about this again, and definitely not with you," she said. "Then I wasn't sure I'd be able to tell you in time."

  "Tell me what?" I grew uneasy as if I was about to enter a dark, forbidden place.

  "I knew Javier Bonita," she said. "Because once, I was in love with him."

  "What?" Shock ran through my body like a wave. "In love with the richest man in Texas?"

  Her brows furrowed and she looked disgusted. "That man, he is not Javier, Kati." She held her hand up to stop me from saying anything. "First, let me tell you the story. All of it. Because if I don't tell you now, I might never tell you. Maybe it will help. I always thought it was better to forget, but now, I'm not so sure." Her hands were in her lap and I noticed they were shaking.

  I got up from the chair and moved next to her on the loveseat, taking her hands in mine. She had always been so strong, always knew what to do when my entire world collapsed. "I'm listening, Abuela."

  She exhaled slowly, then began her story. "When I was young, I was very foolish, Kati. I was a silly romantic girl with crazy ideas of love.

  "Don't get me wrong. I did love your Grandfather, very, very much. When he died, you and your mother kept me going. But my love for him, it was a different kind of love than the one a girl has when she's young. My love for your Grandfather was more... I don't know," she looked around the room as if searching for inspiration. "Maybe the word is practical?" She twisted her wedding ring, which she still wore after all these years.

  "But when I was young, love was different. Love was just like the novelas," she said, laughing a little.

  "Abuela," I said, rolling my eyes. "The novelas? Really?"

  "Oh, yes, Kati. It was all drama and craziness," she said. "When I was young, I lived in Chicago. I don't know if you remember me telling you about growing up in Pilsen. I know I didn't tell you about Estella Zuniga. Estella and I were second cousins, but she felt more like a sister to me. She taught me how to braid my hair, and every week we'd got to the store and get ribbons to weave into our hair. Her hair was long and thick, like a horse's tail, and you could weave an entire rainbow of ribbons in it. Our families got together every Sunday after church. We were very close all through elementary school, she was kind to me even though I was a few years younger. It was like that right up until she got to high school. That was when Javier Bonita came to our school.

  "Javier was from Texas. He lived with his tio and helped out in their repair shop while going to school. He didn't talk a lot about Texas, but he had a great Texas accent." Abuela's eyes sparkled at the recollection. "Hay, Mija, he was something else. He called the teachers ma'am, said y'all, things like that. Of course, the boys made fun of him, but we girls thought it was terribly sexy. And was he handsome!" She let out a low whistle. "I tell you, he looked like Valentino. Do you even know who Valentino is? Take it from me, he was one handsome guy.

  "So, you know how these things go. Everyone was chasing after Javier, me included. But Estella was the beautiful one, inside and out. That's what makes this so hard, Mija. She was like my sister. And all I wanted was the boy who was in love with her. But that didn't matter, I knew he belonged with me."

  Suddenly I could imagine Abuela, young and vivacious, broken-hearted over her schoolgirl crush.

  She patted my hand tenderly. "You see what I mean? Like the novelas." Abuela shook her head sadly. "We are so crazy when we are young.

  "Anyway, after high school, Javier and Estella got married. She and I had drifted apart, mostly because I couldn't hide my jealousy, and I avoided them both. I never grew to hate her, but we were never close again after they started to date. When they got married I was in the wedding, along with most of our cousins. I knew she included me because Estella, she was such a good person, and she'd never dream of leaving me out of their big day." She closed her eyes for a second, then continued.

  "Right away they had a baby. After their little girl Lupe turned four, that's when Javier went to Texas. I didn't talk to them much back then, but my cousin told me that he had gotten a letter that he was going to inherit an entire ranch. Estella was pregnant at the time, and my cousin said she begged him not to leave. But how could he not go? I'm sure Javier thought he'd come back in a few weeks and take them to Texas to live like kings.

  "So anyway, he left. The first few weeks no one said anything, we thought he must be taking longer than expected." Abuela paused, then took off her glasses, rubbing them with the corner of her shirt. "By the time summer came around, he'd been missing for months. Everyone knew Estella was frantic. The family hired a detective in Texas, Mr. Alacon, who was supposed to find him. Another month went by, then the detective sent a report. He said that Javier had died, that there was never any ranch in Texas." Abuela paused. "Right after that news, Estella lost the baby. It was a very sad time."

  "How terrible," I said quietly. I thought of the video of Estella, her tears running down her face, her granddaughter trying to comfort her from the other side of the camera.

  "It was terrible," Abuela said, putting her glasses back on, and brushed her shirt back in place. "But two years after that, I found out the truth. I was over at Estella's parent's house. We were getting ready to make Christmas tamales to sell at church. But my Tio Adam had forgotten the pork, so we were all sitting around waiting, twiddling our thumbs. Someone said we should think about making some dessert, and Tia sent me to the bedroom to look through her dresser for her secret pumpkin empanada recipe. That's when I found the report from the detective. Only this was the real report, not the one they gave Estella. This report said Javier had gotten together with another woman in Texas, that he had left Estella and little Lupe.

  "You'd think something like that would make me angry at him, right?" Abuela asked. "That I'd think he was a dog, a horrible man. But it didn't. Kati, knowing he was alive twisted something in me. Right then, I saw my chance." Abuela looked at me sadly. "And instead of being a good friend, instead of being a good sister to Estella, I made my own plan. I left for Texas a month later, planning on winning over Javier, becoming his wife."

  "Really?" I said, incredulous.

  "Oh yes, Mija," she said, "I was completely confident that I could win him over. I was a looker back then, I had my pick of men. But I still wanted Javier. And with the word that he was alive? Forget it. I had no doubt I could get him for myself."

  My mind was reeling. Who was this woman? I never imagined Abuela was capable of such a thing. "Weren't you worried about his wife?" I asked.

  "Not one bit, Kati. I was certain that we were 'meant to be,'" she said, waving her hand as if casting a spell. "When I arrived in La Salle, I lost some of that confidence. I got pretty nervous. I had second thoughts ab
out confronting Javier with his past, so I decided to use a ruse. I was pretty sure he wouldn't recognize me, I'd grown into a woman while he'd been gone.

  "In those days ranches always needed housekeepers and cooks, so I pretended to be looking for a job. That day Javier and his wife, or mistress, or whatever she was, were away on business, selling some livestock or something, so I met with the ranch foreman, pretending I only spoke Spanish. I managed to charm my way in. Like I said, back then I could convince men to do just about anything, and the foreman, he was easy pickings." She huffed. "Back then, I thought I was the smartest girl in the world.

  "For two months while Javier was gone, I made friends with some of the other maids and the cook. They were the ones who told me the stories about Javier. Terrible stories.

  "The man they described was nothing like the handsome young man I knew in Chicago. I figured they must be wrong about him, or this woman the detective had mentioned in his report had turned him into a monster. I, of course, would restore him to his former self.

  "The foreman, he never said a word about Javier, he kept to himself. He preferred the company of a bottle over chattering maids.

  "When Javier came back, he came without the woman. No one knew where she was. One of my friends said el Patrón, Javier, stormed into the like a bull, furious with the foreman. She said he was angry that the foreman had hired me without his permission. El Patrón demanded I be brought to him.

  "Of course, I was nervous to see Javier again, but I combed out my hair and wore my lovely red dress, adding a touch of perfume I'd brought from Chicago. When I walked in the living room I was confused." Abuela paused, as she continued, her voice broke. "The—the foreman stood next to a man who he introduced as el Patrón, because this Javier Bonita liked to be called the boss.

  "This man, he was the same height as Javier, but looked nothing like the Javier I remembered. His hair was short like bristles on a brush instead of wavy and long. His eyes were blue like icy water, not green like Javier's. They had no warmth, they were dead. I don't know how else to describe them.

  "That's when I realized what had happened. This man had done something to Javier and fooled everyone."

  "No," I said, realizing the danger she had been in at that moment. "What did you do?"

  Abuela stopped and took a deep breath. "Kati, this next part is very difficult to talk about."

  I felt sick. "Please, Abuela, if you don't feel like you can talk about it, it's okay," I assured her. If I were honest with myself wasn't certain if I could handle hearing it.

  "No, Kati." She straightened her back. "No, you need to know it all." She continued, her words flowing more quickly. "This Javier, he walked over to me, nearly stumbling and reached for my hair. It was long back then, black and silky. I couldn't help myself. I flinched. This made him very angry. He demanded my name, his breath smelled like old beer and his words were slurred. I was still in shock, I guess, so I stood there, mute. He—he hit me, knocking me to the ground and called me a stupid wetback. He said, 'That is your name from now on—stupid wetback.'

  "The foreman was there for all of this. He did nothing, just stood there and watched. I realized right then that everyone, even the foreman, was deathly afraid of this man, of this imposter.

  "Javier spat at me, then said he was tired, sat down on the couch. He told the foreman that in a few days he wanted me back and he'd decide what I was good for, if anything.

  "Then he fell asleep right there, passed out, I guess. The foreman sent me back to the maids' rooms. I have to admit, the foreman seemed relieved," she mused. "Maybe he liked me, a little.

  "Of course, I decided right then to return to Chicago to tell Estella about him. I really did. But I needed proof. This imposter had all the land that Javier was supposed to have, land that belonged to Estella, too. And he must have done something to Javier, probably killed him.

  "So, the next day I tried to get into his office." Abuela's hands began to shake again. "Kati, I— I—" She raised one hand to her mouth, closing her eyes. A tear spilled down her cheek.

  I pulled her close. "Abuela..." I didn't know what to say.

  "They caught me. And—and things got very bad." Abuela took a trembling breath, then continued. "I can't—no, I won't say more about it, but believe me, I feared not for just myself, but my new friends. And what about Estella? If this man found out that I knew his secret, what would he do to her?

  "I escaped a week later with the help of one of the maids when the foreman and the "Patrón" left the ranch to get supplies in town.

  "I took the bus to El Paso. I moved there to start over. I never told anyone about him. I wanted to forget about my months on that horrible ranch. Some people would want revenge. I wanted to live a new life and forget I ever dreamed about Javier Bonita."

  Abuela looked at me, her eyes pained. "But, Mija, you never forget these things.

  "I learned, years later, that the maid who had helped me escape, she had a bastard son with the imposter. It—it was not her choice." Abuela made the sign of the cross. "Dios mio, her fate could have been mine. And that boy, that boy is Eliah.

  "Oh my god," I leaned back in the chair. "That's why you knew him at the house."

  Abuela nodded. "She asked me to be his madrina, and for a while I visited them both when they lived in McAllen. But then she took him and went back to the ranch, they were calling it the Rocking B back then. That's why I know Eliah, a little. I don't think he'd hurt me. But he has his father's demon inside him."

  A demon who sets fires to people's apartments, I thought. "He can't be trusted, Abuela," I said.

  "I know. I know that now." She took my hand in hers. She had stopped shaking, but she looked exhausted. "The only person I told any of this to was your mother. I never even told your grandfather. When Lupe called from Chicago to ask for your mother's number, because she had heard about her investigative work, I told your mother to leave it alone." Her voice took that tone I knew from my childhood—exasperation. "Mija, I told her Javier Bonita was a very bad man, and that he was an imposter. I didn't tell her the whole thing, but I made her swear not to tell Lupe that it was me who told her."

  She hesitated, then continued. "I don't know why I didn't tell her the whole story," she confessed. "I guess wanted to protect her. And probably, I was more than a little afraid for myself, too. For how it looked that I would let such a thing stand.

  "Your mother, she kept her word, though," Abuela said. "Then when she woke up, some things I had told her were jumbled, like she didn't remember absolutely everything quite right. So I tried to explain, to warn her, and hoo boy, " Abuela raised her hands as if warding off a blow. "Your mother, she was furious. You remember how she could be?"

  I nodded. She was a force, Father Vincent had said.

  "Well, this was the worst I'd ever seen her. She hid from me all the time, made all those tapes, she wouldn't even listen to me. I didn't think it was a good idea for you to have the tapes, that Javier and his men would come after you." She reached over and put her hand on my cheek. "But they came anyway, didn't they?"

  I thought of my car, the accident, Pilar. Of Estella's tears, of Abuela on the ranch being spat on by a monster. Rage collided with terror and I could barely speak. "Yes, Abuela. They did."

  "Your mother, she said they would, because of the governor's race." Abuela tucked my hair behind my ear and sat back. "But then at the hospital when Javier came—"

  "Wait, what?" I stopped her. "Javier was there?"

  "Yes. The imposter showed up, pretended to be a friend of the family. He had heard about your mother coming back, and came to the hospital. I'm not sure how he got the tapes, I thought we had hidden them. To be honest I was relieved in a way, I thought that it was over. I didn't know what was on the tapes, but you were still recovering, your mother was back to being..." She searched for the right word, something we both did often. "Well, she was gone, again. What threat could we be to him? I was certain he would leave us alone."

&nb
sp; The tears were back in her eyes, and they fell on her lap as she hung her head. "I thought this was all over. I'm sorry, Kati. I'm so sorry."

  "No, Abuela," I said, taking her hands in mine once more. "You have nothing to be sorry about. There is only one person who is to blame—the monster you met on that ranch."

  We sat in the bingo office for a few more minutes, comforting one another. Then Abuela checked her watch and gave me a final hug. She got to her feet, pulling a few bingo cards out of her purse. "Well, I have to play before the last game. It's my cover. That's how they say it in those detective shows, right?"

  I smiled weakly. "That's it exactly, Abuela." I reached out for her arm. "I really think you should leave town. It's not safe."

  She squeezed my hand. "It hasn't been safe for a long time, Kati. I just never knew it."

  When she walked out the door, I heard the deep voice of the bingo caller reading back a set of letters and numbers.

  Someone in the hall had won.

  Chapter 23

  I made it to Hueco Tanks just before the park ranger was pulling the gates shut and convinced him to let me camp even though I was technically late for check in. Ever since Hueco Tanks had come under an increased level of protection, getting in the park at the last minute was almost impossible. With the full force of the Texas Parks and Wildlife Department guarding the door, I felt somewhat secure.

  I thought of Abuela and Abuelo. They used to dance on the back porch, the desert wind rushing through the cottonwoods. She wore long flowing dresses and leaned on his shoulder. Abuelo was a good dancer, he would center his hand on the small of her back, and they would glide over the concrete as the sound of a Tejano band bounced off the adobe walls. Abuelo was kind and soft spoken. He always told me he was lucky to have won the heart of such a beautiful woman. She said she loved him because he made her laugh. He did make the best funny faces.