Firefly Summer (11 page)

“Well, a rooster!” said Martín, “I will have to wait to eat it later, for I have much work to do right now.”

Ramón paid Martín for the stable place and turned his horse towards the bridge and out on the road again.

Don Rodrigo, who had been on the lookout for them, saw them turn from the road and take the country road to the house.

“The children are back,” he called, quite relieved now, for he had not liked the idea of letting them go alone on such a trip. Up the path the two horses came slowly, and soon stopped behind the house where the family had gathered to welcome the children back.

“How did the shopping go?” asked Grandmother, helping take the packages from the saddlebags. Don Rodrigo helped the children down, and Ramón and Antonio took the horses away.

“These are fine goods,” said Doña Anita when the girls unwrapped the parcels. “I couldn't have done any better.”

Don Rodrigo unwrapped his boots and examined the workmanship. He, too, was well satisfied. “They look just like new,” he said.

“We bought something else,” said Antonio, coming into the room. “Candy…all kinds.”

He showed what was left of his purchase, which was not much, for he had been sucking lollipops since leaving.

A worker came in and handed Don Rodrigo a letter. “It's from Lucio,” said Don Rodrigo.

“From
Papá
!” cried Mercedes enthusiastically.

“Is he coming back for Mercedes?” asked Teresa. “Summer is not over yet.”

“Let us see what he has to say,” said Don Rodrigo, tearing open the envelope and reading quickly. “Listen:

“‘Dear Friend: Returning soon. Grand surprise.'”

“A surprise! A grand surprise!” cried the children. “What could it be?”

“A gift for everyone, perhaps,” said Ramón. “He has been all over the island.”

“Will he bring one for me, too?” asked Antonio.

“Don't make so much over Lucio's letter,” said Grandmother. “God only knows what it is he's calling a surprise. Most likely a good business deal. Run along, Antonio, and stop eating candy. You will have nothing but empty sticks to show your mother.”

The children were not the only ones excited over Lucio's news.

“What in the world can he mean by a grand surprise?” asked Don Rodrigo when Teresa and Mercedes had gone to their room.

“Let us wait and see,” said his wife. “You sound worse than the children.

The next day, the girls took their material to Sixta, but the novelty of the news Lucio had sent had worn off the excitement of the new dresses.

“I could hardly sleep,” said Mercedes. “All night I did nothing but turn and turn, and wonder what the surprise would be. Who do you think it's for, Teresa?”

“Hope it is for Ramón, as I am hoping.”

“But why for Ramón, especially?”

“Because it might be news about his family.”

“What else is there to know about his family?” said Mercedes. “He knows his parents died long ago. Your father has even tried to find relatives, without any success. I don't understand what you mean, Teresa.”

“Exactly what you have just said. There might be other relatives that we don't know about. Ramón and I are always hoping some letter will bring him more news someday. That's why I hope Lucio's surprise might be for him. And you too would hope it
would be, if you had lost your parents and didn't even know who they were. Just think how happy Ramón would be if he actually found out the real story about them.”

Mercedes kept quiet. She just did not know what to answer. Teresa was right about her hopes, but she had the right to hope for anything else she wanted. If in sixteen years no relatives had ever shown up to claim Ramón, she did not think he had any. Everyone in Cayey and Cidra knew Don Rodrigo and the story about Ramón. It would have been easy to find his relatives if there had been any. No, she was not wasting her hopes on that.

When they reached Sixta's house, they told her about Lucio's letter even before they displayed the goods for her to see.

“Don't plan too much,” said Sixta. “It's better to wait without too much planning. Then the surprise will turn out to be a real one.”

The girls opened their packages and spread the material for her to see.

“What fine organdy, and what a soft shade of blue linen.” Sixta was pleased. She knew she would enjoy turning such material into dresses.

“How are you going to make them? Did you see the fashion magazine I sent Doña Anita? There are two pages of dresses you might like to choose from.”

“We want them alike,” said Teresa.

“But you can't have them alike,” Sixta explained. “The materials are so very different.” She thought for a while.

“I have an idea,” Sixta said. “If you like, I can have these dresses ready for you soon. This blue material will be just right for a princess-style dress, with a square neck and buttons from top to bottom. I can make the sleeves scalloped and embroider the edges.” There was enthusiasm in Sixta's voice. She liked nothing better than to follow her own ideas when sewing.

“Now, Mercedes' organdy can be made into a dress with two ruffles at the bottom. There is enough material here for even a sash. What do you think, girls?”

They did not look very happy about Sixta's plans. Sixta realized that the girls had not understood the description of the dress she had given

So, she drew two pictures on a piece of paper to illustrate her point.

The change that came over the girls' faces satisfied her.

“It was foolish of us to want two identical dresses, as if we were twins,” said Mercedes, laughing. “I like mine just like this picture.”

“Me, too,” said Teresa.

Sixta took their measurements before they left and told them she would let them know when to come back for a fitting.

When Teresa and Mercedes returned home, they took their
mundillos
out to the shed. Both had gained speed and were really enjoying their lacemaking.

“There's Pilar coming up the hill,” said Mercedes.

“Ho, Pilar!” called Teresa.

Pilar waved to them on her way to the house. She stopped by the kitchen to speak with Lucía, then asked to see Doña Anita or Grandmother.

They were surprised to hear about her call, for Pilar did not come often to the house. If she was here, she must have a reason…a special reason.

“It's nice to see you,” said Grandmother, offering her a chair.

Pilar took out a letter from the pocket of her skirt and handed it to Doña Anita. “Felipe and I thought you ought to see this,” she said.

“A birthday
trulla
! Why, Pilar, there has not been a
trulla
on this
finca
for years. Felipe is lucky to have his friends remember his birthday in this way.
Trullas
are omens of merrymaking…and luck for the household where they come. Is there anything we can do to help?”

Pilar hesitated for a moment. Her request was an unusual one, and she did not know how it would be received.

Grandmother noticed her hesitation and wondered what could be on her mind. Wasn't she happy about the
trulla
?

“What is it, Pilar?” she asked.

“There will be some children coming,” said Pilar, “and I thought Mercedes and Teresa might like to meet them and stay to see the
trulla
. I will look after them and see that they get home safely.”

That had been the last thing they expected from Pilar, and Grandmother began to laugh.

“I thought for a while you really did not want the
trulla
to come, Pilar, and you did not know how to get out of it. I'm glad it was not that,” said Grandmother.

“Try and keep those two away from anything going on in the
finca
,” said Doña Anita. “That is your first wish for the
trulla
, and it is granted. Ramón will bring them in time to see the feast from beginning to end.”

“
Gracias
, Doña Anita,” said Pilar. “The girls are in the shed. Will it be all right to tell them?”

“Not until I tell her father first, Pilar,” said Doña Anita.

Pilar rose to go. She hoped Don Rodrigo, too, would consent to let the girls participate.

“Wait a minute, Pilar,” said Grandmother. She left the room and soon returned with a small envelope. “For the
trulla
,” she said, slipping it into Pilar's hands.

Down the road, before she reached her house, Pilar opened the envelope. Folded neatly inside were eight one-dollar bills. Eight one-dollar bills and all for a
trulla
! But wouldn't that be extravagance? There were so many things they could do with that extra money.

There was that trip to San Juan Felipe had promised her and the feast of Candelamas Day in the highlands of Guayama—she would like to see that. Then, there was Ponce. Valentín was always talking about Ponce, with its Vigía and its two public plazas. “¡
Ay
!” She would like to see all those things someday.

Last year she had heard Grandmother tell about the hot springs in Coamo. Did Grandmother mean real hot water out of the earth? Even that would be worth seeing.

After dinner, when she had washed her dishes, swept her kitchen and hung up her apron, Pilar went to sit near her husband, who was smoking his cigar outside the door. She told him about her visit to Doña Anita's home and gave him Grandmother's gift. “It's for the
trulla
,” she said, secretly hoping he would let her keep it.

But her husband had his own ideas about his gift. Pictures of all the rich food he had always wanted and could not afford rose in his mind.

“Let's have a real feast for once, Pilar,” he said. “This is our money…money we have not worked for…a real gift.”

He enumerated the things he could buy with it. Chickens, olives and capers for the
arroz con pollo
. He could see his plate garnished with thick slices of
pimientos morrones
—the tasty Spanish peppers—and sprinkled with green peas. He swallowed hard. Then there were
pasteles
and almonds, even marzipan for dessert. He went on and on.

Pilar listened quietly as in his mind he went spending not only the eight dollars but three times the amount.

He re-read the letter. “Fifteen people, that's splendid,” he said. “Even Don Goyo is coming. Time is short, Pilar. Better ask some of your friends to give you a hand in the kitchen while I get Gregorio and Valentín to help me lay a floor in the rear of the house. If Don Goyo is coming, there is bound to be music, and if there is music, there will be dancing.”

On Friday morning, five of Pilar's friends came to help her. Each brought a gift: green plantains, papayas, tomatoes, onions and casaba bread. When Valentín and Gregorio arrived, they brought three large breadfruits, six dry coconuts and a bowl of dry ginger roots.

Pilar was pleased. “Come and see your presents, Felipe,” she called.

“It's nothing much,” said their friends, “but we wanted to help you celebrate. A
trulla
is a
trulla
.”

As they stood sorting the gifts, a sharp whistle ran through the air. They listened.

Only one person whistles like that, thought Felipe.

The whistle came again…long…sharper than before. Yes, there was no doubt now: It must be Martín. He ran to the door.

Martín was making his way up the hill. He was so fat that he had to walk slowly. Over his shoulder he carried a string of chickens tied together by their legs.

“What is a
trulla
without
arroz con pollo
?” he said as he reached the house. “I could not wait for the oxcart, so I came ahead.”

He walked to the kitchen, threw his load on the table and dropped on a bench, puffing out his breath. “This hill and I are enemies, Pilar,” he said, laughing.

“Is anybody around?” said a voice at the door.

It was Ramón, and he, too, had brought a present for Felipe. “From Doña Anita,” he said, putting a kettle on the table.

Before Pilar had removed the cover, a savory smell rose from it.

“Ground beef!” said Pilar, sniffing.

“Of course,” said Martín. “Ground beef cooked with olives and capers, tomatoes and peppers—just
the thing for
pasteles
. Whoever heard of a
trulla
without
pasteles
, Pilar?”

Never had Pilar seen so many gifts in her house before. If
trullas
brought such things, why didn't they come more often?

“Why, we have everything for the
trulla
now, Felipe,” she said. Her mind was on the eight dollar bills. She was positive they did not have to spend it. There were other things in the house that she could add to the gifts.

Her husband must have read her thoughts, for he dug into his pocket, brought out Grandmother's gift and handed it to her. The
trulla
had even worked its magic spell over her husband. Eight dollar bills now safe in her pocket!

“Clear the kitchen,” she said gladly. “We have work to do.”

Felipe took his friends outside to help build the dancing floor, while Pilar and her friends settled down to work. Soon they had the green plantains peeled and grated for the
pasteles
—the Puerto Rican tamales. The papayas were sliced and boiling with sugar and bars of cinnamon, the coconuts grated for
manpostiales
. Only the
arroz con pollo
remained to be cooked and that was never done beforehand.

Ramón cut banana leaves to wrap the
pasteles
in before they were set to boil, and even helped Pilar hold them over the fire to make them supple.

When the men finished their work, Pilar brewed some coffee and gave each a cup. They sat in the kitchen talking about the
trulla
until they were ready to go. Only Martín remained to spend the evening with Pilar and Felipe.