Authors: VC Andrews
“Yes, pretend, make-believe.”
“Good. Pretend I’m Bradley, okay?” she said, and then she lunged at me, seizing my upper arms, and pushed me down. Before I could resist, she lay over me. I didn’t know what to do. She was heavy, and she was pushing hard on my arms. “Was this how it happened?”
I shook my head and then nodded quickly.
“Yes or no? Forget it,” she said, turning over on her back beside me. She stared up at the ceiling. I was afraid to move a muscle. Then she turned and braced herself on her elbow. “You want to know something?”
“Know? Yes.”
“I never did it with Bradley. Everyone thinks I did, but I didn’t. Not that he didn’t try. I wasn’t ready to let him, and then you go and do it with him.”
“No,” I said. “I did not let him.”
“I don’t know whether to believe you or not, but I accused him of it anyway. You weren’t a virgin, right? You did it before, right?”
“No.”
She thought a moment, still remaining beside me, propped on her elbow. “But did you like it? I mean, after you couldn’t stop him, was it still…”
“No,” I said, shaking my head vigorously. “I did not like it, like him. No.”
“I don’t know whether to believe you or not. You know,” she said, her eyes beady, mean, “in some places in the Middle East, if you’re raped, your own family could have you killed or something. You may not understand every word I’m saying, but you get it,” she added, and stood up. She glanced at me angrily and walked about the room again.
“Bradley’s going around telling my friends that he went with you because I frustrated him. He called me names, a tease. I can’t stand him now. We should have him arrested. My mother should have him arrested. You will go to the police, and then you’ll go to court, and he’ll go to jail,” she said. “You go tell my mother to do that. That will shut him up.”
“Police?” I shook my head.
“You’ve got to!” she screamed at me. “Or you’re a liar!”
“I’m not a liar.”
“Then you’ll do it. It’s settled,” she said, and went to the door. “We’ll inform my mother at dinner. I’ll do the talking. I’ll tell her you asked me to do the talking.” She pointed her finger at me. “You just nod when I nod, understand? Nod.”
I started to shake my head, but she walked out.
Later, still trembling from the things Sophia did and said, I went down to the dining room. I felt very strange, just going in to sit without doing a thing in the kitchen, but both Señora Rosario and Inez behaved as if it had always been this way.
“Are you coming with me to the hospital to see Edward after dinner, Sophia?” Tía Isabela asked her.
“I hate hospitals,” she replied. “I’ll go after the operation. Maybe.”
Tía Isabela glanced at me, but she didn’t ask me to go with her.
“Garman will be taking Delia to school every morning,” she told Sophia, “and picking her up at the end of the day from now on.”
“How am I getting to school? Edward can’t drive me, and I wouldn’t be seen breathing the same air Bradley Whitfield breathes.”
“For the time being, I’ll have Casto take you in the station wagon,” Tía Isabela said.
“Some Mexican worker taking me to school, and in that old beat-up car we use for deliveries and junk?”
“If you had worked at getting your driver’s license, Sophia, you’d be able to drive yourself.”
“Well, why don’t you let Casto drive her in the station wagon and let Garman take me? They could speak Spanish together. It would be easier for her.”
“I want Garman looking after her,” Tía Isabela said. “With him around, neither Bradley nor any of his idiot friends will so much as look her way.”
“But…”
“That’s final.”
“I won’t go to school. I’ll stay home.”
“You’ll go, or I’ll take away every other privilege you have. Don’t test me,” Tía Isabela warned her.
Sophia glared at me, looked at her food, and then folded her hands and took a breath. “Okay, Mother, but what are you going to do about Delia’s situation?”
“What situation?”
“Her rape, Mother. She came to my room just before we came down to dinner, and she asked me to ask you to go to the police.”
“What?” Tía Isabela turned to me.
“Didn’t you ask me to ask her?” Sophia asked me before Tía Isabela could speak. She nodded to signal that I should nod, but before I could, Tía Isabela spun on Sophia.
“I’m not going to drag this family and this name through some ugly courtroom drama. Are you mad? You want to see us in the newspapers? You want to see me shunned by everyone?”
“He shouldn’t be able to get away with it!” Sophia cried. “She wants you to do it.”
Tía Isabela turned to me and asked in Spanish if I had gone to Sophia to ask for such a thing. I looked at Sophia. She was nodding to prompt me. I did the best I could to get out of the situation diplomatically. I simply told Tía Isabela that we had spoken of it, but I said nothing about asking her.
“It’s out of the question,” Tía Isabela told Sophia. “You’ll have to get your revenge some other way, Sophia.”
Sophia mumbled and sulked throughout the rest of the dinner. As soon as she finished, she rose and marched out of the room.
Tía Isabela turned to me. “Edward will be operated on tomorrow morning,” she said. I wondered why she hadn’t told Sophia. “I have the best eye surgeon in the area.”
“I will pray for him,” I said. “I would go to the church with you and pray, Tía Isabela.”
“Go to the church with me? Let’s not overdo it, Delia. You’ve got yourself into a good thing here. You don’t have to do any more than what I asked you to do.”
She rose, and so did I.
“Saturday morning, I’ll take you to my boutique, and we’ll get you some of the clothing I promised. You’ll have something nice to wear to that…fiesta,” she said, as if it were something disgusting. “I’m sure you’ll be the nicest dressed.”
She looked toward the doorway and then to me.
“I want to know if that daughter of mine is into any drugs, even marijuana. You let me know instantly,” she said, and walked out of the dining room.
Inez came in immediately and started to clear the table. Out of habit, I joined in, but Señora Rosario came to the doorway and stopped me.
“You don’t do that anymore,” she said. “Enjoy her generosity while you can. Believe me,” she added, “it won’t last long.”
Why was it I didn’t feel that I was the recipient of any generosity?
Maybe another of my grandmother’s expressions had the answer. I suggested it to Señora Rosario.
“
No es el que puede dar pero el que quiere dar.
It’s not the one who can give but the one who wants to.”
Señora Rosario laughed.
How strange, I thought, but this was the first time she had laughed at anything I had said or done.
Even Inez was smiling.
I left for my room to study my ESL workbook assignments and to pray for Edward’s recovery.
The moment I entered my room, Sophia came in behind me and closed the door.
“You didn’t help very much with my mother,” she said. “You didn’t nod,” she added to be sure I understood. “That’s all right. I’ll come up with a way to have Bradley pay. You want him to suffer, don’t you? At least you want that, right? Understand? Make Bradley suffer. You know suffer?”
“Yes, but God will make him suffer,” I said.
“I know that, but there’s no reason we can’t help God, is there? He’ll appreciate it. Look,” she said, smiling, “I’m sorry I was mean to you when you arrived. You’re my cousin…what’s
cousin
in Spanish?”
“
Prima.
”
“Right. You’re my
prima.
We have to look out for each other, help each other, okay?
Sí
?”
“Yes,” I said.
“Good. We’ll pal around. You can go out with me Saturday night.”
“Saturday night?”
“Right. There’s a party. Bradley will be there, and…”
“No, I’m to go to a fiesta Saturday.”
“What? A fiesta? Where?”
“
Mi amigo
Ignacio…
el cumpleaños de su hermana.
”
“What? What’s that? In English,” she ordered.
“His sister, a birthday.”
“Ignacio? Wasn’t he the one who beat up Bradley?”
“Yes,” I said.
“He likes you, huh?” she asked, smiling. “You know?” She pressed her lips into a kiss.
I felt myself blush. “
Quizás,
maybe.”
“Right, maybe. I’m sure he wants to be your boyfriend.”
“
Quizás.
”
“
Quizás, quizás
. I’m sure he does, or else he wouldn’t invite you to a fiesta.” She thought a moment. “Does he know what happened to you, everything? Does he know
everything
?”
“No, not everything.”
“What, then, just what Bradley tried to do with you with the other boys?”
“
Sí.
”
“But he was very mad, very angry when he heard about that, right?”
“Angry, yes. He looked like…like
él le mataría.
”
“What? English. Tell me in English.”
“Kill…kill him if he found him.”
“Good,” she said. “Let me know where your fiesta is going to be.
Dónde
fiesta, okay?”
“
Por qué
…why?”
“Leave it up to me. I’m on your side, remember? I’m your
prima.
” She smiled. “Here,” she said, taking off her beautiful gold and diamond bracelet. She took my wrist and started to put it on me. “You need to look good now. You’re my
prima.
” She fastened it. “See? Beautiful, right?”
“Yes, but it is yours.”
“Not anymore. Now it’s yours,” she said. “Remember.
Dónde
fiesta?” she added, smiled, and left.
I stared at the beautiful bracelet. I knew enough about jewelry to know it was worth
mucho dinero.
What it cost could keep my grandmother with enough food and necessities for a year, maybe even two. I stared at it, thinking about all the work, all the
mole
she would have to make to equal its value. In an instant, with almost no thought at all, Sophia had given it to me. She had no appreciation of what this much money meant back in Mexico, which was part of her heritage as well as it was mine, even though
mi tía
Isabela had kept her from thinking so. It wasn’t just national boundaries that had kept us apart. I was crossing much more when I crossed into America and came to this house and this family.
Whenever I had complained about not seeing my other cousins very much in Mexico, my grandmother would smile and tell me what her grandmother had told her,
Más vale amigos cercanos que parientes lejanos.
It is better to have close friends than distant relatives.
As I continued to stare at the bracelet, fascinated with its beauty and value, I wondered in my heart if she had been right. Perhaps I should have kept my relatives distant.
Of course, I had no choice.
I went to the window and looked out on the beautiful property, now bathed in a silvery moonlight that made it all seem more like a setting in a dream, and I thought to myself, how simple, how easy it would have been for me not to be here.
If only my father had taken a little longer that morning and started out a little later. If only my mother would have needed to do one more thing before leaving the house. If only another vehicle had slowed them down or my father had to stop on the way because of something he had forgotten. If only the drunken driver had gone a little slower.
What were my parents talking about just before it had happened? Were they talking about my party, my birthday, about how quickly time had gone by and how grown-up I was? Were they happy about it or sad? Were they thinking about my future, planning to do more and more for me? Were they as hopeful as ever, their imaginations running freely? Were they laughing? Did my mother lean over to kiss him?
Did they shout for me that terrible moment when they knew what was coming?
I could hear them now. I could hear their voices.
To what place had they crossed over? Wherever it was, were they thinking as hard about me as I was about them?
I looked at the time. My grandmother was asleep by now back in Mexico. Knowing her, she probably had said good night to my empty bed.
“
Buenas noches,
Abuela Anabela,” I whispered.
And then I knelt and prayed for Edward and, as I was sure
mi abuela
Anabela would have wanted, prayed for Tía Isabela and for Sophia and for Abuela Anabela, of course, before I prayed for myself.