The Center of the World (22 page)

Kate had three early childhood books on her nightstand. The first one said that children of this age were struggling with the mastery of self-soothing. The second one made mention of defining boundaries between parent and child so that the sense of self-care became internalized. The third endorsed a communal bed with the parents. There was no end to theories about parenting.

 

The last words that Fernando said to her were, “Don't drop crumbs unless you want the jaguar to follow.”

She would not be like Hansel and Gretel in the terrible fairy tale of danger and terror and abandonment of small children. Not one crumb would fall from her bag. She brushed the ground clean of them. The horrors of the village could never, never follow them. To keep the ground swept of crumbs she would need everything she'd ever learned, dreamt, tasted, or felt to save this one little girl.

 

After the day on the Mill River, Sofia went to sleep early and easily. The water had soothed her. Kate also felt her muscles softened by the water and she fell asleep after reading a few pages of a novel.

The apparition came in Kate's sleep. The Mayan woman appeared in her dream and Kate rushed to find Sofia; the intruder must have come to take the child. She smelled the tendrils of wood smoke and heard the patting of the lake water against a dock. The woman was from the village. Oh no. Kate would know Manuela anywhere; her broad face, her smooth skin. The deep liquid of her dark eyes.

Manuela spoke in Kaqchikel at first, or so Kate thought, until she realized that she understood what Manuela was saying. How could that be? Did she say
mocking bird? Martingale? Martin bird?
Manuela had the same look on her face as when she taught Kate to pick the best avocados, how to tie a rebozo, how to hold a child. Was she telling her something that she must do? Why wasn't her son with her? Kate swam to wakefulness, dripping with bitter sweat, her heart pounding like that of a hooked fish. She got up, opened all the windows, and let the summer night air wash away Manuela's apparition.

CHAPTER 36

 

K
ate whispered to herself, and then noticed where she was. She was on the sidelines of the soccer field. She stopped and coughed into her sleeve as if she had only been clearing her throat. She was lost in memory again, back with Will, reliving the last glance of him at the airport in Guatemala City.

Sofia was small for her age. She would never reach the average height of North American women, five foot four, but because of nearly four years of good nutrition, she would be taller than her relatives. Her ancestry was filled with short, mountain-climbing people who farmed steep terraced fields, and climbed up dormant volcanoes. Being tall was not an asset among the Maya.

Kate sat in a lawn chair on the bumpy green turf watching Sofia go from picking the wild violets in the grass to running after the ball like a heat-seeking missile. She had been approached by other coaches who had hinted that Sofia's talent needed special guidance. “We don't see that kind of player very often,” said the coach of the traveling team.

Will would have been her soccer coach, running lightly over the soggy field, his life filled with the squeals of children who had never known about war orphans or how a journalist like Kirkland could die so mysteriously in a one-car accident. Kate fantasized about finding Will and bringing him home, making everything good and safe for him. Was Kate living for all of them: Manuela, Mateo, and Kirkland?

Kate wanted everything for Sofia that she could not have had in Guatemala. She wanted good health, shiny white teeth, a brain that happily churns on reading and writing. No men with automatic weapons who would scar her for a second time. Kate had to make a good family, with staunch friends so that Sofia wouldn't feel the howl of her own people deep in her soul. Would her soul end up bewildered as Will believed when one's language is stolen?

Kate imagined that life would feel safer for Sofia with each passing year. At every milepost, she expected that the fear of someone coming to get Sofia would be lessened, but it wasn't. Kate remained vigilant, on patrol. But there were merciful moments of feeling at ease, especially when she was in the river. She loved to float down the Connecticut River, bobbing along with her hands folded under her head. She had always loved the river, reveled in watching it get cleaner and cleaner over the years.

Fish and Wildlife hired her with the lowest G-rating they had when she first arrived from Guatemala. They said she had a good future if she finished her graduate degree, which she did at UMass. This disappointed her adviser at UC Davis. “Was it because of that business with the foreign correspondent, Kirkland?” Dr. Clemson asked by email. “No, absolutely not,” she rushed to say, alarmed that he had edged too close to the truth. She asked only that he write her a letter of recommendation.

What she had needed was a job. The opening at Fish and Wildlife let her stay close to the Connecticut River, monitoring the toxic runoff from the streets in the heavy rains, giving the health department a call when she found old summer homes that still ran their septic straight through to the river.

Kate slid her baseball cap lower to shade her eyes and watched as Sofia scampered. She had all the makings of a forward, a left wing perhaps, a stealth position for those with a strong left kick. Sofia was healthy; her digestive system was free of parasites, her teeth free of cavities. Sam was an ardent grandfather, reading her stories, walking her proudly along the sidewalks of downtown.

Everything about them said adoption, which is exactly what Kate wanted. To all appearances, she was a mother who had traveled to another country for a perfectly legal, international adoption. Sofia's jet-black hair waved along her back, catching light like obsidian. Her skin was darker than that of nearly everyone in Leverett. Her grandfather, a devoted coffee drinker, called her skin the color of lightly roasted coffee. Somewhere between cream and brown and gold, a rich color that took Kate's breath away.

Soccer practice ended and a dozen girls raced for the sidelines to the waiting parents.

“Mom, can we give Emma a ride home? Is this our day to stop at Dairy Queen?” asked Sofia, her arm draped around Emma's shoulders. Emma was the only other girl who was Sofia's size and their mutually diminutive forms made them comrades.

Kate loved the sound of her daughter's voice. Today, Kate wanted to go through an entire day without deception; she wanted only to hear the true crystal tones of Sofia's voice. Just that.

“Today isn't the day we go to Dairy Queen, but we could change it this once. Sometimes we can change things.” There were eight more hours in the day and she begged the universe to keep it simple, keep the day free from dark memories.

Kate never imagined that loving a child would illuminate her soul, because that's what it felt like. And she never imagined Martin, never thought she could find love again.

CHAPTER 37

 

M
artin taught art at the local middle schools. Art teachers were the first to go in lean times, so it took three schools to hire one art teacher. As near as Kate could tell, Martin didn't have bigger plans; he wasn't the kind of artist who said that teaching was his day job while his heart and soul longed to create his own art. No, teaching art to middle school kids who ricocheted off the walls was his heart and soul.

When people said to him, “Man, I don't know how you do it, spending all day with thirteen-year-olds,” Martin replied, “I start with gratitude.” Everyone would stop talking. Later, Kate said, “Gratitude is such a showstopper.”

She wanted more than anything to love him, to come every time they made love, to have the deep sense that she wanted to be with him forever. She thought that being with Martin was a grown-up kind of love, that she would love him more over time. Knowing she didn't love him in the unbridled way that he loved her, she tried to hide her hesitations, because really, who wouldn't love Martin? What woman wouldn't fall on her knees to thank the perfect alignment of the universe for a man like him? And she did love him, how could she not?

Kate and Martin decided on a small wedding in the backyard to be followed by a reception in her neighbor's new barn. Sofia was giddy with excitement about dresses and flowers and food. If Sofia could have combined her blue silky dress with flowers and food in one blend, she might have imploded with bliss.

“I'm part of the wedding,” she told everyone who would listen. “Martin and Mommy and I are all getting married.”

The wedding was still one week away. Kate wondered if Sofia would collapse from anticipation. She whirled around the kitchen and ran into her grandfather, who had just come into the kitchen with his electric drill.

“You now have a side rail on your deck so the minister won't fall and break her neck on account of you wanting to be married in the backyard instead of inside, which would have been lots easier. And where is my helper who is going to help me attack the design problems with the barn?” He looked around as if he couldn't see Sofia spinning and whirling. Bear Cat wisely sat on the kitchen windowsill, above the fray.

“Here I am, Grandpa! I'm practicing my dancing for the wedding when we all get married.”

Sam put his drill on the island counter and bent down to swoop up Sofia when she came within his orbit. She hung like a rag doll tucked under his arm and she shrieked with laughter.

“Kate, will you please explain to this child who is marrying whom and what a family means?” He feigned exasperation. He shook Sofia for emphasis.

“I know, Grandpa, I know. You and Mom and I are all family, and Grandma was family too until she died but she still counts. And now Martin will be in our family too. We're all getting married! You too, Martin is marrying all of us,” said Sofia upside down.

Kate shrugged. “How can you dispute the logic?”

Grandpa planted Sofia on her feet. The last of her giggles leaked out of her like dollops of clotted pudding falling from a spoon.

“I can't argue. Martin is marrying all of us. Has anyone told Martin?”

A car door slammed. Sofia's head turned to the sound. “That's Martin, my dad.” She ran to the front door and her voice carried in muted tones to the kitchen, where Kate let her heart expand.

Kate set a cup of sugared coffee in front of her father. “You're going to need this to keep up with her. I'll come by Bramble Barn in a couple of hours and pick her up to do a little shopping. This is the first time they've had a wedding reception in the barn and they're a little nervous.”

They could hear Sofia showing Martin the addition to the deck.

“I never thought I'd say this, but I'm a little jealous. I've been the main man in your life, and Sofia's too, ever since I picked you up that day at Logan Airport. I'm truly happy for you, God knows you deserve happiness, we all do. And if I could have handpicked someone for you, it would be Martin. But if a tree limb falls on your house in the middle of the night, you're not going to call me anymore, are you?”

Her father had been there for fallen tree limbs, snow shoveling, battery starting, television installing, shed building, Easter egg hunting, soccer cheerleading, and was Sofia's confidant. Kate tried to find words to tell her father something that would assure him.

“Dad, you're—”

Sofia and Martin came in through the sliding glass door off the kitchen with the child's hand tucked into his large one.

“As your new father-in-law, I have just one question for you,” said Sam.

Martin looked at Kate, who stood behind her father. She shrugged.

“If a tree limb falls on my house at three a.m., and if I call you, will you come over?” asked Sam.

Martin wiped his forehead in mock relief. “I'll be there with chainsaw and plastic tarp in hand.”

“That's what I needed to know. I like the direction of things,” Sam said, and winked at Kate. “Everybody on the barn-decorating crew, load up and head out.”

The threesome departed. Kate collected dishes for the dishwasher and made a list in her head of what had to be done. The wedding was still four days away and she had to go to work on two of those days.

The phone startled her as it always did when Sofia wasn't at home. Had something happened?

She caught it on the second ring. “Hello.”

Was it the quality of the connection? The silence? She heard him breathing and she saw the shape of his lips.

“Is it you?” she whispered. “Don't hang up. I have to tell you something important.”

She had had other phone calls in the last six years. Silent calls that she knew could only be Will. Each time she had sat with the phone pressed to her cheek, caressing the beige plastic. Once she had cried very quietly, which might have sounded like quick intakes of breath. But he would have known. Each time, a thick muffled sound traveled across the miles and then the connection was broken.

Kate looked down and was startled to see that she was wearing Will's socks, the ones she had tossed into her pack at the last moment in Antigua, the ones that she wore as slippers. Her big toe stuck out of one.

“I have on your socks,” she managed to say.

Silence. Would he speak this time? She heard an intake of breath.

“I was just looking for those,” he said.

Oh God, she loved his voice, the rich velvet of it, the press of it against her skin, the way it fit inside the marrow of her bones. The tenderness of his voice stroked her hair, her eyelids, the cuticles along her nails. She sat down on the floor.

“I'm getting married in a few days,” she said. Kate knew they wouldn't have much time; neither of them could bear it for long. There was a long pause.

“Is Sofia, are you—?”

“Sofia is fantastic. You should see her.” Kate wanted to reach through the phone lines and touch him. It was enough that they both had phones pressed to their faces at the same time.

“I've been able to help with the peace treaty. You know about the peace and reconciliation program?”

Kate had read whatever fragments she could find at the university library.

“I've read tiny bits. Is it real?”

“I'm translating for the Maya in the talks. Those who have forgiven me, that is. I always tell them up front what I did. I think it helps. All of us are culpable.”

All of us are culpable.
Kate carried her culpability with her like a stone between her shoulder blades, sharp and abrasive. She heard the light thud of Bear Cat landing on the floor. The black cat was a magnet for people with upset stomachs, fevers, and misery of the spirit. She crawled into Kate's lap.

“I hear your voice sometimes . . .” Kate couldn't finish.

“I have two strands of your hair. I found them in my sweater after . . .” he said.

“Did you know? Is that why you called, did you know I was getting married?”

There was a pause, dark and smoldering. “No. I only knew I had to call you. I woke up this morning and I swear that you had just walked out of the room, that I could hear your footsteps.”

“Stop. Don't say anything else or I'm going to die.”

“Listen, I wanted to let you know that, well, I'm okay and there's someone in my life . . . I'm sure we'll get married.” Will cleared his throat. “I want you and Sofia to be happy and live long and wonderful lives. I'm going to get off the phone now, Kate.”

“Will, I—” The connection ended.

She had so much she wanted to ask him. Could he travel to the States again? Would she ever see him? She pictured him married to someone else and it felt like she was losing him all over again.