“Tio, please, don’t argue. I know what I’m doing!” Mami was determined. “I’m not leaving you two here without the necessary things to make you comfortable.” When Tio Jorge tried to argue back, Mami put up her hands. “It’s settled.” Tio walked away. When Mami got stubborn, he knew there was no way anyone else could win.
Even though I had brought some drawing materials with me from home, I put more stuff down on Mami’s list. I asked for more oil crayons, colored pencils, and drawing pads, as well as a set of water-colors. To my surprise she agreed to get everything for me. Usually she fusses over what we spend. I was sure glad she was in a buying mood.
The next morning, after we had shopped in a large town called Rio Grande for the stuff on Mami’s list, we all drove to Luquillo beach. It was beautiful there with rows of palm trees giving lots of shade. We went swimming in a bayside area where the water was shallow. The sand was almost white and the water such a clear green that you could see way down to your toes.
My brothers were going out of their way to be real nice to me. They carried me on their backs, let me win in tag, and made sure I always caught the ball. It was a wonderful afternoon and I kept on wishing it would never end. But soon Papi told us all it was time to leave. Tomorrow they had to get up early to catch the plane home.
Early the next day, as we were saying our good-byes, Mami took Tia Maria and me aside.
“Felita, you mind Tia Maria, you hear? I want to hear nothing but good reports about you, understand?”
“Don’t worry, Rosa,” said Tia Maria. “I am a God-fearing woman and I’ll take care of Felita like she was my own little girl. But if she does anything wrong, I’ll make sure to let her know.”
“My Felita is a good girl and I know she won’t be a problem,” said Mami. “But in case she is, please tell Tio Jorge and he’ll let us know about it.”
Even though I was annoyed at Mami for asking for good reports on me, I was also pleased that she’d said I was good. Mami reached over and hugged me. “I’m going to miss my baby so much. Don’t forget to write, Felita. I want to hear from you at least once a week, you hear?”
Papi came over, lifted me up, and gave me a big hug and kiss.
“You are going to have a wonderful experience here, Felita. Now, I want you to listen to Tio Jorge and be a good girl, okay?”
“So long, Chinita ...” Johnny hadn’t called me that in ages. It used to be his nickname for me when I was little. “I’ll miss not having to baby-sit for you.”
“You show these people what us Puerto Ricans in the Big Apple are all about, Felita,” Tito whispered to me, “and don’t be coming back no hick. Educate them, you hear?” I had to laugh at Tito, and he made me feel less sad.
“Remember how much we all love you.” Mami gave me a final hug.
“She’ll do just fine here!” Tia Maria stood close to me as we watched them all drive off. “Now, Felita, this is not the city. You are in the country now and there isn’t all the excitement you’re used to. But there are other things you can do—read, sew, and of course go to church. And remember, you can come to me to talk, anytime.”
“Thank you, Tia.” I walked away fast, not wanting her to see how homesick I felt already.
Chapter 8
My parents and brothers had been gone for almost a week. Every day since they’d left, Tio and I had followed the same boring routine. We got woken up at about five o’clock by the roosters just as the sun came up. They kept on crowing and making a terrible racket for at least a couple of more hours. At about seven Tio would check the shower for those flying roaches and spray before I went in to wash up.
I still hated those awful bugs. But there were a lot of other kinds besides—black spiders that were really dangerous and centipedes that bit. This was one place I knew I couldn’t walk around in with bare feet, that was for sure. And, even though we had screens on all the windows and doors, the bugs always managed to get in somehow. We were always spraying or having to swat at them with our trusty flyswatters, which had turned out to be one of the more useful items on Mami’s list.
Then we ate breakfast in our own cottage and got ready for the walk that Tio Jorge had planned the night before. He always promised to show me a lovely view or a farm where he was sure the owners would let me pet the animals and maybe even ride a horse. But so far we hadn’t seen anything like he promised.
One morning after walking for a long time and not finding the place Tio Jorge was looking for, two mean guard dogs tried to attack us. It was a good thing they were behind a barbed wire fence, or else they would have attacked us. As if that wasn’t bad enough, Tio started in with one of his speeches about how things have changed. “It”s a disgrace the way people put up fences and have guard dogs! There’s no place where people can walk freely anymore.” And he went on like that nonstop.
I really liked my Tio Jorge much better the way he used to be back home when he hardly ever talked. He never gave me a hard time there, but now he was always grumbling and complaining like Tia Maria. He was definitely getting on my nerves.
To try and make things better after one of these walks, Tio Jorge always took me to his property and told me where everything was going to be built—the house, the dog kennel, the vegetable garden, the chicken coop—everything! By the second day I already knew this by heart and was sick of hearing it again. But what really made me furious was Tio’s stupid quiz game, where he asked me the name of flowers and birds in Spanish and English. When I was little this used to be fun, but not anymore. For example, he’d say, “Felita, tell me what is the name in Spanish of the spider plant?” I’d just act like I didn’t hear him. You’d think he’d shut up, right? But he’d keep on going. “You know it’s called mal padre. I’m surprised you forgot such an easy one.”
After an hour or so of this, I’d just walk away and head down the road toward the cottage. No way was I gonna play his stupid game! When I got home, Tio was usually right behind me. By now he wasn’t saying anything to me. I guess he took a hint to leave me alone.
By then it was time for the main meal of the day, which we all ate from about twelve thirty to one o‘clock over at Tia Maria’s. One thing I have to admit is that she was a real good cook and the food was always delicious. After eating, everyone took a nap. Once I got up I’d be all refreshed and ready to do something that was fun, but there was never anything to do. Tio Jorge didn’t even have a T.V. He said he was going to buy one when he finished his house. At first I used to watch T.V. at Tia Maria’s, but she was always watching her boring soap operas or reruns of old series like Bonanza or Mission: Impossible, where everyone was speaking Spanish.
The things I liked to do best in Barrio Antulio were to play out in the backyard with the animals and do my drawings. Today was no different. I went out to play with the guinea hens. They had bushy gray feathers speckled with white that went down around their feet. They looked like they were wearing woolen socks. One hen in particular was very talkative and kept following me around. I named her Lina, after my little cousin. There were also four rabbits. Three of them were all white and the fourth had black markings. I named him Vinny because he was different from the others. I also had learned how to handle Yayo the rooster. He could be mean all right. Every chance he got he’d sneak up on you and try to take a nip out of your leg. But with me he’d learned to take care, because whenever he came too close, I’d swat him with a branch.
Late in the afternoon I took out my sketching materials and sat out on the back patio. I’d been thinking a lot about my friends, especially Vinny. I missed him and Gigi the most of all. I felt like writing and telling them how lonely I was and how much I wanted to go home, but I knew I could never do such a thing. It would be too embarrassing. After all, everybody back home thought I was on this great vacation just having a wonderful time in P.R. How could I write and tell them that nothing was happening at all? I was happy at least I’d sent them the picture postcards so that they knew I had done some good things.
Right now they were probably all outside, playing like crazy and having fun. The more I thought about home, the worse I felt. Things had been going so good just before I left between me and Vinny, I just hoped and prayed he didn’t find some other girl this summer that he liked more than me. Sooner or later I had to write to him and Gigi, but at this moment, I preferred later.
The one thing I had to look forward to was Friday when Tia Maria was taking me to the youth center at her church. I knew I would see Provi and Gladys again and get to meet some other kids and hang out. Then maybe I would have something good to write to my friends about.
I looked out at the wide view before me, ready to do some drawing. I had to admit that even if there wasn’t much to do here, it sure was pretty. From where I sat I could see the surrounding mountains and all the houses, mules, horses, and square patches of earth where different vegetables were growing. Fruit trees stood next to tall palm trees that swayed in the breeze. The narrow country roads had cars and trucks going back and forth on them. There were a lot of things happening out there, but it was a quiet kind of busyness, not really noisy or disturbing like in the city.
I took a deep breath, inhaling the sweet and spicy smells of the flowers and vegetables all mixed up together. It felt really good to breathe this air. Then I picked up my pad and a large charcoal pencil. Maybe I’d start by drawing the sky. Today the cloud formations were so gigantic that I could make out animal forms and whole kingdoms in them. When the sun ducked behind the clouds, all the colors on the earth darkened and there were long shadows. When it reappeared, everything got bright again, dazzling my eyes. I began to sketch in all the outlines.
“It’s just beautiful,” I said aloud. And then I began putting the colors in my picture.
Today was Friday and Tia Maria was getting ready to take me to the youth center and church. She told me I also had to go to confession.
I absolutely refused. “I have my own priest at home, I’ll go to confession when I get back,” I told her. I mean church is all right, but confession is something I can live without.
Tia kept on insisting. “That’s wrong, Felita. It’s not proper that you be here almost two months without receiving the holy sacrament.”
“Well, I’m not going.”
“We’ll see about that, young lady. I’m the one in charge of you.”
“No, you’re not! Tio Jorge is in charge of me. He’s my real granduncle. Let’s ask him.”
“It’s very rude of you to speak to me like that.” Tia Maria clicked her tongue and shook her head. She had a habit of doing this every time she disapproved of anything. “I’ll go to speak to Jorge right now!” she said and stormed over to Tio Jorge’s. I waited a few minutes and then I went to see what was happening. Inside I could hear them arguing.
“I’m sure Rosa would certainly disapprove, Jorge. It’s not proper for a girl her age to—”
“Listen, Maria, you are of course entitled to your opinion, and I appreciate that you’re looking out for Felita. But she is my grandniece and I am the one who is responsible for her. If she doesn’t want to go to confession, then she doesn’t have to.”
“Well, if that’s the way you see it, Jorge, then there is little I can do to make sure Felita continues to live like a good Christian. I only hope you will answer to her mother for this and that I will not be blamed!”
“Yes, Maria, I will! I’ll take full responsibility for this with both Rosa and Alberto. Satisfied? Now, I’m not gonna argue with you anymore, so that’s that.”
Boy, was I ever relieved to hear Tio’s words! I kind of knew he’d back me up, since at home Tio never goes to church. He says that God is in nature and not in a building with ceremonies and statues. I was real grateful to Tio, and felt sorry that lately I’d been so angry at him.
As we drove to the youth center Tia Maria sat next to Tio Manuel, sulking. I sat quietly looking out at the scenery. We passed lots of small churches along the way, like Pentecostal, Seventh Day Adventists, and different kinds of Baptists.
“Look”—Tio Manuel pointed to a small wooden cabin—“that looks like it’s been converted to a church. Didn’t that used to be a vegetable market?”
“Heaven help us all. It seems that nowadays anybody can convert a shack by putting up a sign and calling it a house of God.” There Tia Maria went, clicking her tongue and shaking her head again.
“It’s still better than having people hanging out in cafés and bars. Besides, Maria, they aren’t harming anyone.”
“Maybe so, Manuel, but I still say it’s sacrilegious. But then who listens to me anyway? It seems all I’m good for is to cook and clean.” I knew that remark was meant for me because of our argument about confession. I glanced over at Tio Manuel, who raised his eyes and kept silent.
When we got to Santa Teresa’s, there were lots of cars there already. People were standing by the large old church, talking. I searched around until I spotted Provi and Gladys. I waved and they waved back. Tia introduced me to some of the parishioners and then to Father Gabriel, a short man with a friendly smile. “This is Father Gabriel, our parish priest. My niece Felita, from the United States. She will be spending the summer with us.”
“You are most welcome to our church, daughter,” said Father Gabriel, smiling. I excused myself and went over to Provi and Gladys. They were now with a larger group of girls. Provi looked real happy to see me and introduced me to some of the other kids. “There’s a large recreation room,” she said, “and we have Ping-Pong and games. Come on, I’ll show you around.” We went into a very large airy room with high ceilings and enormous windows. There were two Ping-Pong tables, chairs, a couple of couches, and game tables. Two women dressed in brown suits and white blouses spoke to us. “Come in, young ladies. I see a new girl,” the younger one said.
“This is Felita Maldonado, Sister Tomasina,” said Provi. “She’s visiting here for the summer from New York City.”
“How nice,” Sister Tomasina said.
“Do you understand us?” the older woman asked me. “Do you speak Spanish?”
“Yes, I do.”
“Very good. This is Sister Tomasina and I am Sister Pilar. I’m glad you know Spanish. So many children who visit us from the United States don’t know Spanish.” She turned to the other kids. “Listen, listen, everyone here! This is Felita, a new girl. You are all to make her feel comfortable and welcomed!” Then Sister Pilar looked at me again. “What do you like to do most, Felita?”
I wasn’t prepared for that question, so I didn’t know what to answer. “Do you have something you particularly like to do?” This time she spcke to me like she was losing her patience.
“I like drawing best.”
“All right. I think we have some crayons and pencils around here somewhere. Let me get them for you.”
“Oh, no,” I said quickly. The last thing I wanted to do today was draw. I did enough of that at Tio Jorge’s. “I’d just as soon do something else here. But thank you, Sister.”
“Very good”—Sister Pilar patted me on the arm—“you’ll find something to keep you busy, I’m sure.” I saw that there were mostly girls and only a very few boys.
“Sister Pilar is really nice,” Provi whispered to me. “Don’t let her way of talking put you off. Sometimes we call her ‘the sergeant,’ but she’s buena gente—really good people. Why don’t we all go outside and bring a rope, in case we want to play?”
Gladys and four other girls, Anita, Marta, Judy, and Saida, followed us out into a very large courtyard. Now I saw where most of the boys were. They were busy playing basketball way over at the far end of the yard.
“The boys around here are heavy into sports,” Provi said. “That’s Brother Osvaldo. He’s the coach and he’s also in charge of a lot of the summer activities.” She pointed out a younger man wearing a gray jogging suit and blowing a whistle. “He’s nice, we all like him.”
We decided to jump rope. But since I didn’t know the games in Spa
nish, Provi picked a simple one and explained it. “It’s real easy, Felita. When it’s your turn to jump, we’ll all ask you, ‘What are you going to be when you grow up? Single? Engaged? Widowed? Or married?’ You have to answer, ‘Married.’ Only if you say married can you jump, since the next question we ask you is, ‘How many kids will you have?’ That’s when you jump and we keep on counting with you, because the number of times you skip rope is as many kids as you’re gonna have. You can keep on skipping until you miss or get too tired.”
It was wonderful to be playing with kids my own age for a change. We were all good jumpers so most of the time we stopped because we got too tired to go on. One time I was going to have two hundred children! All of us laughed so hard we could hardly move. After a while we got bored with the game and sat under a large shady tree.
“What shall we do now?” asked Anita.
“Let’s do rhymes,” said Marta.
“Great idea”—Anita motioned to us—“let’s form a circle and we’ll go all around.”
“But I don’t know that game,” I told them.
“It’s easy, Felita. We’ll teach you,” said Anita. “You see, we all just repeat a rhyme and each girl tries to go faster than the last girl, until someone makes a mistake. Then she’s out. We keep going until the last girl who says the rhyme fastest and correctly wins.”
I was beginning to feel uneasy about my Spanish. “I don’t know. I don’t think I should play.”
“Come on, Felita, at least try,” said Marta.
“Say yes, so we can get on with the game,” Anita said. “Come, let’s go!”
I really didn’t want to play this game, but I also didn’t want to be left out, so I agreed.
“Okay, now listen to this rhyme,” Anita said. “Pay attention, everybody.
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