Across the Great River (7 page)

That afternoon we are walking back to our room, seeking shelter from the scorching sun. Anita and I walk ahead, holding hands. Mama and Pablito follow at a snail's pace.

“This has been a very good day!” I declare.

Anita smiles, then answers, “Well, I wish you many more such good days.”

“Anita, there are still many things I wish to do and to see. Most of all, I want Papa to come back. I want to learn how to read and write and how to sing!”

“My! What a long list!”

“There's more … like being a healer like you. Perhaps a nurse or maybe a teacher. Would you like that?”

“Yes, but I'm afraid those wishes will take a little doing. Yet, with lots of patience and determination, who knows what can happen.” She reaches over and pinches my cheek.

“Anita, do you think that they are all dreams like Papa's?”

“Kata, any thing is possible if one so wills it. But, you are the one that will have to work hard at it.”

“Yes, it is so. I have lots to learn about this strange land.” I take her hand. “Sometimes I forget that I'm no longer in Mexico.”

Anita chuckles, “That's very easy to do in this little town with its plaza and market which are so much like the ones in Mexico. You see, the people here are mostly Mexicans, but they are born on this side of the river and that makes them Mexican-Americans. You were born on the other side of the river and that makes you a native Mexican.

“But Anita,” I argue, “everyone speaks Spanish.”

“Language has nothing to do with it. There is a government that runs Mexico and there is a different government that runs the United States.” Anita chuckles on seeing me frown. “But, you will learn all about that in school.”

“And when shall that be, Anita?”

She shrugs, “That I cannot say.”

“In my old village we have to pay money to go to school.”

“Yes, I know that is so, but here school is free.”

“How lucky for the children,” I add.

“Still, in this country there are many children that do not attend school.”

“I would gladly go, Anita, even if I had to walk miles.”

“Yes, I know you would. Look, we are almost home.”

We flop down on the steps to wait for Mama and Pablito to catch up. It feels good to sit in the shade, relieved of all our packages. Anita sits with her eyes closed, and I watch the wrinkled circles around her eyes wiggle like when a rock is thrown into a pond. Her nose moves back and forth like a rabbit's.

I hear boots stomp at the top of the stairs. I look up to see the tattoed man staring down upon me. I wince as I feel the evil from those eyes enter my body as chills crawl up my scalp. I throw myself against Anita, who has awakened. She stands quickly and stares up at the man. A hissing sound grows on her lips as she points her clawed fingers at him. He rapidly disappears into one of the rooms upstairs.

Mama finds us wrapped around each other and staring at the top of the stairs. “What goes on here?” she asks.

“Perhaps it is best if you move from this place,” warns Anita.

“But why?” she asks.

“As long as I am with you, you are safe, but I will worry for your safety when I leave.”

Mama pulls me to her. “What has happened, Anita?”

“That man is after something. It is twice that he makes his evil appearances and three times he has tried to approach the girl.”

“But we have nothing of value,” adds Mama, stroking my hair.

“People value different things. He might want to hurt you or the child … as men sometimes do.”

We make our way upstairs slowly while Anita talks to Mama in hushed tones, as if they were sharing deep secrets. By the time we reach our room, Mama is shaking. “Yes … yes … we must move immediately.”

“Let me take the children back to the ranchito. Don Juan will arrive Sunday afternoon to drive me back. I can take the little ones until you are resettled,” Anita begs.

Mama sobs, “Oh, Anita. What else will happen to my little family?”

“Ah! You are fortunate so far. You have work, and I can care for the children. Don Juan likes the money you give him to drive you to and from the ranchito, so it works out well for everyone. Be thankful for that!”

“You speak the truth, Anita,” replies Mama. “And I believe you are right.” She turns to us. “Children, you rest now. Anita will stay with you while I go to speak with my lady boss. Perhaps she will know of a safer place to live. If not, I will send you back to the ranchito with Anita.”

“Okay, Mama,” I answer.

She dries her tears on the hem of her skirt, then hugs Anita. “Keep them safe until I return.”

Anita locks the door after Mama leaves. “Rest now, a little sleep never hurt anyone.”

I lie down next to Pablito. Anita covers us with a sheet and she sits on the mattress, humming a tune until I can no longer hear it. When I awake I notice Anita standing, glaring out the window. The sky is now dark. “Hasn't Mama returned?” I ask.

She seems startled by my voice. “No, come, for we must fix something for supper. It will help pass the time.”

Anita connects the hot plate to the only electrical plug in our wall. She kneels on the floor, kneading dough for flour tortillas. Then she reaches over to test the hot plate with her finger.

“What time do you think it is?” I ask.

“It's late enough. Now come, for the baby will be hungry.”

She hands me a bowl with the dough and I divide it into small balls, then roll them into flat circles. I hand them over to Anita who puts them on the hot plate. “If you are busy, time passes quickly,” she mutters.

We roll a fine stack of tortillas which Anita wraps in a cloth and sticks in a basket. “Now, I will cook some meat.”

I watch as she drops chopped meat into a pan to cook. She covers the pan with the lid and sits back to wait. When the meat is done, she fills each tortilla with a little meat and adds each taco to a neat stack. “Now, another cloth to keep them warm for Mama,” she smiles.

She stops wrapping them when she hears a big thump, as if something heavy has fallen on the stairs. I glance quickly toward the door. “What is that?”

Again there is a heavy bang, as if something is thrown against the wall. This time Anita points to the floor beneath us. “It comes from down there.” She rises to her feet and stares at the door.

“What's wrong?” I ask, rising too.

“Stay here. Lock the door after me.”

I grab tightly to her skirt. “Don't leave us, Anita. Please.”

“Be calm child. Now listen, I shall knock four times when I return. Do not let anyone else inside. Do you understand, Kata?”

“If you say so, Anita,” I cry. She flies out the door and in the hall she waits until I have bolted the door, which I lean against with all my weight. It is as if the skin on my back is covered with biting black ants.

The shadows from our small light seem to enlarge the room into a haunted house. My own shadow looms tall and thin before me, and the baby's shadow seems overgrown like a stuffed toad. I hurry to pick him up, and as I do he senses my fear and hugs me tightly. I wait, watching the glowing orange light of the hot plate turn bright brisk red. Loud slams and thuds add to my fears. It seems as though the bottom of the floor is tearing away and the walls shake from under the strain.

I want to unbolt the door and run out to the safety of the street, but I remember the strange man, and I remember what Anita bid me to do. Instead, I run to the mattress, grab Pablito and bury my face in the mattress until the floor stops shaking and all is still.

Four loud knocks break the silence. I jump up and unbolt the door to find Anita standing with the sleeve of her dress torn and a long scratch from her eye to her chin, which bleeds onto her breasts. Anita carries Mama in her arms. She is limp as a doll. I stand speechless, unable to move as Anita carries her to the mattress and lays her down gently.

“Mama! Anita! What has happened?” I cry as I bolt the door.

“Hush!” hisses Anita as her eyes show a fearsome wild rage.

The front of Mama's blouse is ripped apart, as is her skirt. Her legs are bruised with deep patches of purple and red running along the inside. Deep welts along her arms lead to a bruise the size of my fist upon her cheek. Blood trickles from her mouth and onto her neck.

“That man … he … we must get help for her,” mutters Anita. Without warning, she collapses onto the mattress beside Mama. I can see that they are both hurt badly and that I must get help for them. I dash to the door, but before I reach it there is a sharp splattering of wood. An arm bursts through as if it were a steel hammer crushing the wood into a million splinters.

I feel a scream swelling in my throat. I stand frozen as a hairy arm with a tattooed lady reaches for the knob and turns it. I rush back to Pablito and drag him to the darkest corner. The door swings open as if it were made of cardboard.

The man approaches the mattress where Anita and Mama lay helpless. He moves slowly as if in a daze, then stares down at them for a long time, unaware that we are huddled in the corner behind him.

My body urges me to get out of the room as quickly as I can, so I start creeping toward the door holding Pablito tightly. The baby cries out in objection to my tight grip. I rush toward the door, but a strong force drags me back. I pull against it, realizing that he must have caught my skirt.

I scream and turn back to see Anita tackling him around his knees. She bites into his leg and he turns to kick her, and I struggle loose and escape, running down the stairs unaware of Pablito's weight.

I run into the street yelling for help. Two men see me and pass me as if I were a dirty begger. Other people only stare and walk around me. I keep screaming for help at the top of my lungs until at last a man and a woman stop. They calm me and the baby down long enough for me to explain what has happened. Soon, other men join them, and I point to the room, and they follow me up the stairs like a crowd at a bull
fight.

As we enter the room someone screams and a man yells. The tattooed man bolts out from behind the remains of the door.

“That's him!” I scream.

The tattooed man and another man start fighting and they fall against the wall, knocking a woman over Mama. The woman yells out and her man friend jumps onto the tattooed man, who flips in the air and lands on top of Anita. He rolls off quickly and dives toward the door under rows of legs.

Once outside the door, he meets more men and pushes them out of his way. “Stop that crazy man!” screams the woman at the top of her lungs.

The men gang up on him, kicking and shoving him around until soon I hear a piercing scream followed by a loud thud, then nothing but silence.

Finally a man says, “He's dead. He broke his neck when he fell down the stairs.”

“He deserves it!” snaps another.

“Woman beater!” shouts the woman loudly. “He needed to die!”

This seems to me like a dream, but I know it is not. For Mama still lays on the mattress and Anita lies in the corner where she has been shoved. She bleeds heavily from her mouth. A policeman plows through the growing crowd of people and he is followed by more police, who arrive and begin to clear the room of the lingering crowd.

A man in a dark suit arrives and gives orders freely. I watch as he snaps open a black bag and then I realize that he is a doctor. “Doña Anita,” he says, “what have you gotten yourself into this time?” He kneels in front of her.

“Anita saved us!” I yell.

“So, she has done another miracle, but this time she will have to pay a bit more for her work.” He holds a small bottle to her nose.

Anita struggles with him, but when she hears his quiet commands, she settles back and accepts his aid.

“Anita, we are fine,” I add, hoping to cheer her. She raises her hand in response and then goes limp.

The doctor finishes her bandages and leaves her lying there. “We shall let her sleep this one out. It would be best.” He rises and goes over to Mama.

I follow him and watch closely as he looks into her eyes, then down her mouth. Next he feels her ribs and it is then that he notices the small bandaid on her side. “Ah … this looks like the work of Doña Anita.” He removes the bandaid with a quick jerk, then looks up at me. “Is this not so?”

I nod and he returns to his work.

“Who is this woman?”

“My Mama.”

“I see. Well, I will have to take them both to the hospital. The ambulance is waiting outside. Come with me, little girl, and bring the boy.”

We wait near the door while men in white arrive carrying stretchers. They carry Mama out first, then return for Anita. I clutch Pablito's hand. I do not know what to do, for everyone seems to be getting into cars and slamming doors.

The doctor turns back to us. “You and the boy will have to go with Officer Gonzalez. I shall come see you later.”

A strong hand touches my shoulder and leads me to a police car. Gonzalez puts us in the back seat and slams and locks the door. He goes to the front of the car and starts the engine. He is about to pull out onto the street when the doctor's face appears outside the window.

“These policemen will not take us to jail will they?” I ask as I roll down the car window.

“No, just to a place where you can rest and wait for me to return.”

“Please help Mama and Anita.”

“I will,” he says.

I watch him enter the ambulance and close the door. As it speeds off, I cry on Pablito's shoulder, but he wiggles away from me and pulls off the officer's hat. If this is the greatest of all lands, why is everyone I love getting hurt? It is not so easy in this new land. I prefer the quiet life of the old village and the ranchito to all this confusion.

The police car speeds onward, tossing us around as if we were balls and, in time, it comes to a screeching halt. I peek out the window and ask, “What is this place?”