Ana Maria Reyes Does Not Live in a Castle

by Hilda Eunice Burgos

  “I’m sure you’ll be fabulous. We’re all so proud of you. And now I can finally tell you about my honeymoon!” Then Tía Nona blabbed on and on about snorkeling and visiting the beautiful waterfalls and national parks in Fiji. “Oh, and the food was just divine!” she said.

  I only halfway listened to her. Usually, I would be super interested in my aunt’s adventures, but I had something else on my mind. When she finally stopped talking, I took in a deep breath. “Um, I was wondering, do you have Clarisa’s address?”

  “Who’s Clarisa?”

  She knew who Clarisa was. “The girl you fired when I was at your house.”

  “Oh, her. Why do you ask?” Tía Nona’s voice got all uptight and annoyed.

  “Well, it’s just that we’ve been getting ready for school, so that got me thinking about her and wondering if she’s getting ready for school too. So I raised some money and I want to send it to her.”

  “Oh . . . well, that’s very nice of you.”

  “Do you know where I can send it?”

  “Yes, yes, hold on a second.”

  While Tía Nona went to get Clarisa’s address, I wondered if I should ask my aunt to give Clarisa her job back. The thing was, I didn’t really think Clarisa should be working at all. But if she didn’t work, how would her family survive? The $128 would help a little, but then what?

  “Tía Nona,” I said after she read the address to me, “do you think you could maybe help Clarisa’s father find a job?”

  “Ay, Anamay, I can’t take care of every poor child in the world! I’m just one person!”

  “I know, but can’t you help one child? And Clarisa isn’t just a random kid. She worked for you.” I wished I could reach into Tía Nona’s brain and make her agree with me.

  “Put your mother on the phone, please. I want to see how she’s doing.”

  “Okay,” I said. That didn’t go very well. At least I got Clarisa’s address. Maybe I could think of something more to do for her later. But cookies and lemonade couldn’t help forever.

  ***

  The weekend before school started, my family went to the furniture store. “To take advantage of the Labor Day sales,” Papi said. We were getting another bunk bed in our room, and Connie would move in. I had known for a while that this day was coming soon, and Connie already spent a lot of time in our room anyway. But I worried about this fifth kid. There was definitely no space for one more bed in our little room.

  Rosie was super excited. “I get to sleep on top! I get to sleep on top!” She did cartwheels all over the store and almost knocked over a lamp on display.

  “Calm down,” Mami said to her. “Anamay, are you sure you don’t want to move over to the new top bunk?”

  “I’m sure,” I said. “I like things the way they are. Where would I put my glasses up there?”

  Mami shook her head. “All right.” She turned to Rosie. “No jumping on your new bed, and no somersaults either.”

  “I know, I know,” Rosie said. But did she really know? I hoped so.

  “One somersault and Mami will make us change beds,” I said to Rosie. “She won’t take any chances with safety. You know that.”

  “I said I know.” Rosie put her hands on her hips. “Stop treating me like a baby!”

  “Well, stop acting like one.”

  “You’re so bossy!” Rosie turned her back on me, but she didn’t do any more cartwheels in the store. I hoped I had gotten through to her.

  Chapter 33

  The first day of school was exciting for me, as always. Would I like my teachers? What new things were out there waiting to be learned? I got up at the same time as Gracie, even though she had to leave earlier to take the subway to her new school. It felt weird to walk to school without her. At least I had Ruben. “Are you sad that this might be your last year in this school?” he asked as we walked into homeroom.

  I shrugged. “I guess, a little.” But then I got a splinter when I leaned on my desk, and I saw that three pages had been ripped out of my math textbook, so I thought: No, I’m not sad at all.

  It was the second week of school when Mami handed me an envelope that came in the mail for me. “It’s from Nona,” she said.

  Gracie looked over my shoulder as I unsealed the envelope.

  “A picture? Why did she send you a picture?”

  I examined the photograph. It was Clarisa and her dad. Clarisa wore a bright white shirt and navy-blue pants. On her feet were black-and-white saddle shoes. Shoes. Clarisa was wearing shoes.

  I looked inside the envelope for a note. Nothing.

  “There’s something written on the back,” Gracie said.

  I turned the photo over and saw a handwritten note:

  Dear Anamay,

  Here is a photo of my new gardener and his daughter on her first day of school. He asked me to thank you; with the money you sent, they bought her school clothes, shoes, and supplies.

  Love,

  Tía Nona

  “Look, Mami, we did it!” I said. “We helped Clarisa and we convinced Tía Nona to help her too.”

  Mami squeezed my shoulders and kissed my forehead. “No, you did it, mamita. And I’m very proud of you.”

  I was pretty proud of me too. When Papi got home from work, I showed him the photo and note from Tía Nona. “I’m so happy I helped Clarisa,” I said to him. “Is this how you feel at work every day?”

  Papi laughed. “I wish I could say yes, but unfortunately, I’m not always successful at helping my clients, even though I try my best. When I am, though, it does feel great.”

  “Maybe I should check out your job on Take Your Children to Work Day.”

  “That would be wonderful, Ana María!”

  I skipped to my room to study for the Eleanor scholarship test. Take Your Children to Work Day wasn’t until the spring, but I was already looking forward to it.

  ***

  The big sale at Cristina’s Fabrics was on the first Saturday in October. Mami wanted to get there super early to make sure the material and supplies for my recital dress were in stock. So she and Gracie took all my measurements the night before and wrote down everything we needed. When the three of us got to Cristina’s, we elbowed our way in and grabbed all the items on our list: glitter satin for the skirt, lace for the top, and anti-static lining, all in tango red. We also needed matching thread, something called interfacing, and a long zipper. Mami and Gracie had long conversations about the quality and feel of every piece of material in the store, like I wasn’t even there. But at least I got to pick the color.

  Gracie and Mami planned to start cutting out the pieces as soon as we got back home, but Papi had some bad news for us. “Chichi just called,” he said. “Her babysitter quit. She just showed up at the store with the twins and said she couldn’t take it anymore.”

  “Oh no! And on the store’s busiest day!” Mami shook her head. “Could you go to the store and pick them up? The girls and I will twin-proof the house before you get back.”

  I could not believe this. “I really need to practice,” I said.

  “Okay, then, do it quick while we move some things around.”

  Mami didn’t understand that practicing piano couldn’t be rushed. There was no way I could concentrate with Chichi’s terrible twins around. So I didn’t get my hour of practice that day. Again.

  ***

  The next day Mami and Gracie cleared off the dining room table and took out the pattern.

  “We’re making view B, right?” Gracie said to Mami.

  “Yes. So which pieces do we need?”

  Gracie unfolded the sewing directions and laid them out on the table. I watched her back as she hunched over and examined the instructions. “We need pieces one, two, four, and six,” she said. She and Mami shuffled around, rustling papers and discussing which ones to use and w
hich ones to put aside.

  Then Mami called me over to measure the skirt length. I stood still while Mami and Gracie talked about me like I was a mannequin. “Should she put on a pair of your heels?” Gracie asked.

  “No, she’s too young to wear heels,” Mami said. “We’ll just add an inch for her shoes.”

  “An inch? That’s not enough! She’ll look ridiculous in a too-short fancy gown!”

  Finally they agreed that I should put on my church shoes. Mami held the pattern up to just the right spot on my waist, and Gracie got down on her knees with the tape measure. “We only need to take it up three inches,” Gracie said.

  Mami frowned. “Are you sure?” Mami was probably thinking the same thing I was: that Gracie was sneakily making my dress a little longer so Mami would have to let me wear heels after it was finished.

  “Yes, I’m sure!” Gracie’s nostrils flared a little. “We need to leave room for the hem, right?”

  Mami bent over and looked. “Hmm, okay, that seems right.”

  I didn’t want to wear high heels. How would I walk up to the stage in wobbly shoes? And would that mess up my pedal work? But before I could protest, they sent me away.

  ***

  Every day that month they worked on my dress after Gracie got home from school. But only for a little while each day. Gracie had homework and Mami had to make dinner — with Rosie “helping,” dinner seemed to take Mami a long time to finish. So Mami and Gracie cut out the dress a little bit at a time before they started to put everything together in tiny increments.

  The dress was kind of like my recital piece — coming along slowly. Except I knew the dress would get finished before the day of the Winter Showcase. I wasn’t so sure about “Meine Freuden.” Every time I played it for Doña Dulce, I expected her to beam with pride, but she just scrunched up her nose and said, “Almost there. Keep working on it.” First she said the tempo wasn’t quite right in a few places, so I went home and practiced with the metronome for a million hours. That did the trick — mostly. “Slow down gradually for the ritardando sections,” she said. I tried to remember that as I played, but it was hard to get out of the exact rhythm once I had it down. I thought about how I had played “Für Elise” at Tía Nona’s house, and how everyone had clapped. Maybe I should always play when I’m sad. But how do you make yourself sad on purpose? Would I ever be able to play like Sarita?

  Chapter 34

  The second Saturday in October was the open house at the Eleanor School. It was for anyone who wanted to learn about the school, not just for scholarship applicants. Miraculously, my whole family was able to make it. When we arrived, we walked through an iron gate that said “THE ELEANOR SCHOOL” on it, and went straight ahead into the main building, which was surrounded by the most grass I had ever seen in New York City.

  “Wow,” Rosie said, “this looks like a castle!”

  My parents laughed. “Maybe we should live here then.We are the Reyes, after all!” Mami said.

  There was a long table in the entryway with a sign-in sheet and a bunch of smiling teenagers. “Welcome to the Eleanor School,” one girl said. “Here’s a map of the campus and a schedule of today’s events.”

  I thanked the girl and studied the agenda. “We need to be in the auditorium in ten minutes for the main presentation,” I said to my family as I ushered them back outside. Mami held on to Papi and Gracie as she wobbled down the wide stone steps of the main building. Her belly had gotten huge lately and she huffed like a jogger the whole way down.

  “Are you okay?” Gracie asked her.

  “Yes, I’m fine,” Mami said. She put her hand on her back and let out a little groan.

  “The auditorium is right over there,” I said as I looked at the map. “You’ll be able to sit when we’re inside.”

  Rosie and Connie skipped ahead on the brick walkway toward the white building at the end of the path. “This place looks like a college campus,” Papi said.

  The auditorium was huge. Mami sat down right away. She looked super tired. “Do you want to stay here when we go on the tour?” I asked her as we waited for the presentation to begin.

  Mami sighed. “Oh, yes, that would probably be best,” she said. “That way I won’t slow you down.”

  Soon the lights flickered and the presenters began. The head of school showed a PowerPoint with information about AP classes, national test scores, and college acceptances. Students spoke about extracurricular activities and field trips to cool places like Washington, DC, and even Europe! The admissions director explained the application process and tuition payment plans. During the tour of the campus, we saw the spacious computer room, the library with floor-to-ceiling bookshelves, and the two music rooms. We learned about the poetry workshop, the journalism project, and the robotics club. When they mentioned the debate team, I saw Papi nod and smile. I felt like I was in a dream. This school was absolutely perfect for me. I couldn’t imagine going anywhere else.

  ***

  The scholarship exam was the following Saturday, in the middle of October. I was super nervous that morning. “You have to eat breakfast,” Mami said. “You can’t take a three-hour test on an empty stomach.” But I didn’t think I could keep anything down, so we compromised on a glass of orange juice.

  Papi rode the subway and then the bus with me to the Eleanor School. We walked up the stone steps to the main building and into the wood-paneled office to check in and submit my completed application. Papi gave me a hug and wished me luck. I went into the room with the sign that said “Grade 8, M–Z” on it and found a seat. All the kids around me looked nervous too. I smiled at the girl sitting next to me, but she didn’t seem to notice. She was muttering math problems to herself.

  When the test started, I stopped being nervous. The math questions were challenging and fun, and the essay prompts got me to think through and write about some interesting topics. When I finished the last essay, I looked at the grandfather clock in the corner and saw that I had ten minutes to spare. I looked over my answers, but I didn’t change anything.

  “I think I did well,” I said to Papi when I found him waiting for me outside.

  “I’m sure you did,” he said.

  Then I started to wonder. “What if they were all trick questions, and I actually got everything wrong?” I said.

  Papi laughed at that. “I’m quite certain you did not get every answer wrong,” he said. He was probably right. But still, I went home and practiced “Meine Freuden.” That was the next step in my journey toward a full scholarship, and I didn’t want to blow it.

  ***

  At the end of October, one week before my birthday on November 1, Mami took me aside and said we needed to talk. My mind went straight to the envelope under the sewing scissors. Mami and Gracie had worked on my dress a lot lately. Every time they reached for the scissors, the envelope was right there. Maybe Mami took out the note. But Gracie had promised to stop her, and she would have told me if Mami had even mentioned opening the envelope.

  Mami went into her room and sat on the bed. “Come sit next to me,” she said.

  “Is something wrong?” I sat down, but not too close.

  Mami looked at her hands. “You know the baby is due in December, right?”

  “Yes.”

  “On Christmas Day.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Now, babies aren’t always born on their due dates. In fact, most of the time they’re not. They could be early.”

  “Why are you telling me this?” I said.

  Mami put a hand on my shoulder and looked me in the eyes. “I didn’t mention this before because it probably won’t happen and I don’t want you to worry. But I should warn you that if the baby is born early, there is a very small chance that your father and I may not be able to go to your concert.”

  “Oh,” I said.

  “There is also a
— again, small — possibility that only I would not be able to make it. If, for example, the baby is born the day before.” She ran her hand down my arm and gave me a little squeeze. “Your father will probably be there. He would only miss it if I’m in labor at the time of the recital. And, like I said, that probably won’t happen.”

  “Okay.” I got up and walked out of the room. This was so typical. Mami did so many things with my sisters, but she couldn’t even come watch me play at Lincoln Center. And Papi too? That dumb baby would probably be born on the day of the Winter Showcase just to spite me. Just to keep my parents away from me. And that would be only the beginning.

  ***

  I was mad at my parents after that. I tried to tell myself that it didn’t make sense to be angry. After all, my parents had no control over when this baby came. But still, why were they even having another baby when they didn’t have time for the kids they already had? They hadn’t even mentioned my birthday, even though it was just a few days away. Had they forgotten it? Probably. They probably would forget all my birthdays from now on.

  That whole week I avoided everyone in my family. I did what I was told, but nothing more. I came home from school, practiced piano, did my homework, ate dinner, washed dishes, and got ready for bed. Then I read in my room. I didn’t sit around and chat with my family, or watch TV with them. Why would I? They didn’t have time for me.

  Chapter 35

  When Halloween came, Mami said we could trick-or-treat outside our building for the first time ever. “Just to Chichi’s and Lydia’s stores,” she said. “And the library. Mrs. Rivera said she would have some treats.”

  Gracie wore a tie-dyed shirt, dollar-store sunglasses, and a necklace with a large peace-sign pendant. Papi lent me his Robinson Canó Yankees jersey. I was nervous about wearing it; I knew it was expensive and very special to Papi. He only wore it when he watched games, “for good luck,” he said, even though Canó wasn’t on the Yankees anymore. I didn’t want to spill anything on it, or rip it, or damage it in any way.