A So-Called Vacation

by Genaro González

Rather than run, Gabriel stood his ground. “Of course I can swim.” Then, before Victor could touch him, he plunged feet first into the canal.

  No sooner did he go under than Gus ran to the spot and crouched on the edge with the concentration of a speed swimmer, holding back the instinct to jump in without first seeing him. Gabriel resurfaced, but before he could call out, an unknown yet unforgiving force tugged him down and away from them.

  Gus began running back and forth along the bank, searching for bubbles or ripples. “Stay still!” he told the boy who had just jumped back in.

  “I’m trying to help!”

  “I can’t see a damn thing with that splashing!” Gus took the frayed rope and waited for the slightest sign in the water. “Gabi! Grab on to this!”

  “He can’t hear you,” said Victor, squatting on the bank. “He’s under water.”

  Gus glared at him. “If he doesn’t come up, you’re going down with him!”

  He said it with such cold certainty that Victor immediately stood and began searching like his own life depended on it. He ran downstream about twenty yards and then pointed to a spot almost as far.

  “Look! Over there! By that swirling water!”

  “What? He got sucked into a whirlpool?”

  “No, I saw some ripples over there! Maybe he’s out there!”

  “Out where?”

  “Out there!”

  Gus, as angry as he was desperate, tried to shield his eyes from the water’s glare with both palms. At the same time he kept shifting his axis to blot out the sun overhead.

  “Out where, damn it?”

  “I’m over here!”

  Gus heard the call so softly that he thought he had imagined it. But it was enough to freeze him for a moment. “Gabi!”

  Gabriel had in fact surfaced just a few feet from where he had fallen in. The splashes from the two boys had pushed him toward the opposite bank, behind a thick clump of sedge that all but covered his torso. He clung so tightly to the blades of grass that his fingers had begun to bleed. The water he had swallowed squelched his second cry for help, but a moment later one of the boys resurfaced close enough that Gabriel reached out and grazed his shoulder blade. The ghost story must have been so fresh in the boy’s mind that he shrieked and ended up gulping water. The commotion caught the attention of Gus, who swung the rope several times until he was able to fish out his brother.

  When he touched ground, Gus held him in a brutal grip, determined not to lose him again. Then he began shaking and embracing him at the same time.

  “I told you I could swim,” said an exhausted Gabriel, barely standing on trembling knees. “I learned a little in school.”

  Gus glared at him as if he had just heard the most outrageous utterance ever. “A little’s not enough, Gabi! Not out here, not in the middle of nowhere! You could still be down there, and by now it would be too late.”

  “Then next time don’t doubt what I say.”

  “About what? Your swimming? That stupid squid? About what?”

  Gabriel stared at him defiantly. Then he glanced at Victor, who kept his distance in case Gus might still make good on his threat.

  “About anything,” said Gabriel.

  No one uttered a word, nor did they go back in the water. No one even thought of teasing the boy who had screamed. They merely lay on the bank, speechless and emotionally drained. Finally, after everyone dried out and recovered his calm, Victor slowly began to dress.

  He led the group back without a word and without even bothering to glance at the occasional rabbit that darted out. Gabriel lagged behind with his brother, who kept rapping him on the spine with his knuckles.

  “Cut it out, Gus, that hurts!”

  “I’m just whacking out the water you swallowed. What’s the use in saving you if amoebas eat out your insides?” Gus pretended he was about to hit harder, just to see him flinch as he braced for the blow. “Reminds me of when Dad would try to burp you.” He paused and asked in a more serious tone, “So what got into you all of a sudden?”

  “What, my jumping in?” Gabriel contemplated the question for a moment, even though he knew there was no way to explain it. “I sprinkled myself with pixie dust and wanted to test it out. I figured I’d walk on water and give you guys the shock of your life.”

  “You shocked us, all right.”

  “I guess that’s what I get for getting my pixie dust from Dad.”

  “But you’re not turning into one of those mental cases, are you?

  “A mental case?”

  “Yeah, you know, the kind who can’t go into a high building without wanting to jump.”

  Gabriel almost laughed, but then realized his brother was serious. They were in fact nearing a small precipice that dropped some twenty feet into a dry creek bed, and he wondered whether their location had prompted the concern. He faked a quick peek toward the drop, but before he could even pretend to run, his brother’s grip had already rooted him to the spot. For a moment not even Gabriel’s laughter could free him. In fact, it only made things worse.

  “Gabi! What’s with you? Look at you! You are mental.”

  Even after Gabriel finally convinced him that he was joking, Gus said, “You had me fooled for a while.” A little later he added, “Listen, maybe you can turn on the crazy laughter when we get to the shack. I’ll tell Dad what happened and …”

  “Now who’s the one who’s nuts? Dad would kill me!”

  “Just think about it. We could use it to go back to Texas. Like a mental discharge. It might even give us a trip to Disneyland. You know, like therapy.”

  “It’ll never work, Gus. Besides, you know Dad. It would be the perfect excuse to skip Disneyland.”

  They were approaching camp when Gus finally asked, “So how long were you under?”

  “Long enough to think I wouldn’t come up again. Actually, I did come up for a second or two, then something hit the water and took me back down.”

  “Must have been the guy who jumped in.”

  “At least he tried to help. I saw Victor from behind the weeds. He was grinning.”

  “He was just terrified. He thought I’d use him as bait.”

  “Anyway, Chori was right. Victor’s a total jerk.”

  “Look who’s talking.”

  “Because of what I did? I only put myself in danger. He’s a danger to everyone.”

  “That’s why you jumped in the water? You thought he’d come after you?” Gus squeezed him hard enough to hurt. “He wouldn’t dare.”

  They were already at the outskirts of the camp. A girl who had arranged a secret rendezvous there with her boyfriend took one glance at their damp hair and said, “Back from the canal, huh? Be careful. I don’t know if you’ve heard this, but a while back they pulled out two bodies.”

  At any other time they would have dismissed her advice with the impatient reply that they had heard it a hundred times. This time no one said a word. The thin boy even nodded solemnly, like someone who had actually been there.

  18

  Still shaken, Gabriel waited outside the shack, afraid that his father might sense something odd if he saw him. An hour later, when Paula came out to say they were having Polish sausage and ranch-style beans, he replied he wasn’t hungry.

  “But that’s your favorite. Dad’s too, so you know he won’t leave a drop of grease. I’ll leave the door open anyway, so you can hear Dad and Gustavo arguing.”

  “I can hear them with the door closed. They’re as bad as Señor Serenata.”

  She paused at the door and turned back. “What’s with you? You’re as white as …”

  “As the Borrados?” he interrupted, hoping to get her off the scent. “That reminds me. I spent this morning trailing your favorite one.”

  “The oldest?” By the time Paula caught herself it was too late.

  For a moment he forgot his own troubles as he watched her bite her lip. “So now we know.”

  “I’m not saying I like him. I just think he’s
… amusing.”

  “Amusing?”

  “Yes … entertaining.”

  She tried to rephrase her reply, but he would not relent, especially since it took his mind off his own anxiety. “Well, Sis, since you’re his number one fan, it’s too bad you missed his performance. He did a striptease in the middle of the field.”

  In truth he had been too far away to make out the details. He didn’t even know if it had been the oldest Borrado, but that did not stop him. “You should have seen his puny chest. And the way he moved around!” He tried to imitate his awkward pirouette.

  “You’re just jealous.”

  “Of what?”

  “They can stay in the pool as long as they want without worrying they’ll be kicked out, while you guys have to wallow in that filthy canal like livestock.” She turned toward the door and lowered her voice. “You two lost the bet, didn’t you?” For a moment she actually sounded sorry.

  He forced himself to hold her gaze. “Today was just practice. We’re training for the real thing.”

  She nodded absently to go along. “Then it’s a good thing you didn’t work all day. It’s like Dad says, ‘Don’t blow a gasket before the race even starts.’”

  After she went back inside he tried to distract himself with the notes of a faraway accordion, but bits and pieces of the argument from inside the shack kept spilling out.

  “The truth is,” he heard Gus say, “I’ve had it with this place. It’s dangerous.”

  “Dangerous?” said his father. “So you heard about the kid who grabbed a snake by mistake this morning? It was just a rat snake.”

  “Maybe so, mi amor, but the poor boy almost had a heart attack.”

  “A little excitement is good for your work. Got his juices going.”

  “Maybe that’s what my brothers need. On second thought, a rat snake might just end up eating them.”

  “At any rate, that boy probably gave the Borrados a run for their money. At least until he ran out of adrenaline.”

  “Actually, no, mi amor. The boy barely picked anything afterward. He was terrified another snake might turn up. The women even convinced his mother to take him to the camp curandera.”

  “Wow, people here have nothing better to do than gossip and meddle,” said Gus. “That’s how boring this place is.”

  Their father gave an exasperated sigh. “First you say the camp’s dangerous. Now you say it’s boring.”

  “It’s both. There’s nothing to do so some of the kids hang out by the canal. And then what happens? Two of them turn up bloated.”

  “Oh, yes,” said their father, “the drunks. Well, if the other boys invite you along, just say no. You’ve never had a problem telling me that.”

  “So what do I do instead?” He gestured toward the pegboard wall. “Watch our giant TV set?”

  “Find other things to keep you busy. Look at your brother. He’s sitting outside, nice and quiet, listening to music.”

  “Even the music here sucks.”

  Gabriel was still listening to the distant accordion when Paula and his mother brought out an empty laundry basket. “Don’t get close to the poles,” Señora Serenata called out. “There’s still lightning.”

  But a moment later, even though she had nothing to bring in from the clotheslines, she approached their mother and began a hushed conversation.

  Almost immediately Paula rushed over to Gabriel and reported what she had overheard. “The woman told Mom.”

  “About what?” But since she was Victor’s mother, he already knew the answer.

  “That you jumped into a river and almost drowned. Now Mom’s all stressed out. She’ll be here any second, as soon as the woman stops yacking.”

  “What river? It was just a stupid canal.”

  “Drowning is drowning, Gabi, whether it’s in six feet or sixty. And speaking of stupid …”

  “Look, I didn’t drown, did I?”

  “No, but now she convinced Mom you lost your appetite and you’re acting quiet because you have susto.”

  “What the hell is that?”

  “It’s the same thing the kid who picked up the snake got treated for. Haven’t you heard grownups talk about it?”

  He didn’t remember his parents ever using the phrase, but his grandmother had mentioned it once or twice. “I think Abuelita said susto was a shock. You get it after something scares you. I’m fine, though.”

  “Then how come you’re all moody?”

  “Listen, if anyone got the crap scared out of them it was Gus and Victor. They thought they’d have to bring my body back to camp and face the music.”

  “Whatever. But now Mom wants to take you to that woman at the other end of camp. The one the camp calls the Green Lady because she’s always dressed in green.”

  “Is she …” He had heard the word a moment ago but could not remember.

  “A curandera? The camp thinks so, so I suppose that makes her one. It’s not like she has a degree or anything.”

  “I don’t believe that stuff, curing people with plants and prayers. So why should I go?”

  “Because if you don’t, then Mom will tell Dad what happened. He’ll cure your susto for sure. Either that or make it ten times worse.”

  He didn’t realize his terror was so obvious until Paula pointed out, “Wow! Talk about your hairs standing on end. One thing’s for sure. If you didn’t have susto before, you definitely have it now.”

  That same evening, he let his mother take him to the curandera, on the condition that she would wait outside. He entered the shack expecting something spooky, yet without knowing precisely what. Instead the woman’s calm demeanor immediately put him at ease. She glanced at him and said without hesitation, “You’re my second boy with susto today.”

  She used the same gentle tone when she glanced at a little boy in the room and asked, “Would you mind waiting outside and joining this young man’s mother on the porch?”

  The child left without protest and with total trust, and soon Gabriel heard him chatting with his mother.

  The Green Lady turned up a kerosene lamp, dimmed another and lit a votive candle. Then she started reciting religious phrases and sweeping his body with soft branches. At one point she called out, “Espíritu de Gabriel, regresa.” Intuiting that he was a newcomer, she cued him with a whisper: “Ya vengo.” She repeated the exchange, this time draping him with a child’s sheet that made him feel more energized. Finally she tapped the top of his head to indicate the ritual was complete.

  She snipped off two smaller branches from the branch she had used. “Have your mother brew some tea from the leaves. Drink a cup each night, for three nights in a row. It’s bitter, but don’t sweeten it.”

  He put his denim jacket back on and realized that he did feel more at ease, but he also could attribute it to the fact that he had avoided facing his father’s inquisition.

  Yet soon he realized that the ritual had been a rite of passage and also an affirmation that he had survived the worst of the summer. He gazed around the camp and understood that he was part of it.

  He joined his mother under the glow of an outdoor lamp as she talked to the curandera’s neighbors. For a moment he imagined the worst, that his mother had mentioned his being treated for susto and that they might find it old-fashioned and superstitious. He realized he no longer minded in the least. As they both walked back the people called out, “Que pasen buenas noches,” with the familiarity of old neighbors.

  Both replied, “Hasta mañana.”

  As he stumbled with the phrase, a part of him understood that although there were many differences between them, there was a link that tied them. It had been there all along but became evident only when he accepted that he was a migrant too, even if just for that summer.

  It occurred to him that perhaps Gus might feel differently about his stay at the camp if he underwent the same ritual. “Maybe we should bring Gus along,” he told his mother. “The whole thing in the canal shook him up, too.”<
br />
  She considered it and concluded, “No, he’s too much like your father.”

  As they walked back to the shack she shared that she had been cured of susto countless times.

  “You too, Mom? I never knew.”

  “That’s because I never told you. You kids think we’re old-fashioned as it is.”

  “So how did it happen? You kept jumping into canals?”

  “No, nothing that dramatic. Let’s see, the first time I must have been about five, at a camp a lot like this one. I was trying to corner a snake when my older brothers saw me and ran off screaming for help. Funny, but I wasn’t scared of the snake. It was my family’s yelling that frightened me.”

  “And after that?”

  “After that it was everything and anything. It wasn’t until years later, as a teenager, that I outgrew it. So you see, it runs in the family.”

  “So I have you to blame.”

  A moment later she added, “When I heard what nearly happened to you I felt my own insides freeze. I almost asked her to cure me too.”

  “You should have, Mom.”

  “Maybe another night.” She glanced up at the shimmering stars. “Maybe I can bring your father for a barrida.”

  “What’s that?”

  “It’s a sweeping ritual, similar to what you had. It’s supposed to get rid of your negative energy.”

  “Good luck trying to get Dad to agree. Besides, he creates some of that bad energy himself. Gus says he needs therapy.”

  “Your father says the same thing about Gus.” They walked awhile and she added, almost to herself, “Still, it might help if your father saw The Green Lady.”

  “It might,” he admitted absently. “They do have something in common.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Before he realized it he said, “Well, she sort of lets people think she’s a doctor …” He let the comment trail off, but it was too late.

  “What do you mean?” she asked again. Yet even as she asked, she realized they both knew.

  “Well … just like Dad’s not a real mechanic.”

  She said nothing for a moment. “Did he tell you himself?”

  When he lied with a slight nod, she seemed relieved that the truth had come straight from his father.