Thirteen Senses (49 page)

“That's quite all right,” said the Mother of God. “Rest, all We mothers need our rest. I'll wait here, keeping you company.”

“Thank you,” said Doña Margarita, “I know I got a little insistent on calling You, but we do need to speak.”

“Fine, now rest.”

And so the Mother of God began to hum like a turtledove, giving such love and warmth, that little by little, Doña Margarita drifted back off to sleep.

For this was, indeed, her place, her “spot,” her sacred “station,” on the left-hand side of the stone church two pews from the front, from which she spoke to the Spirit World, and found her strength to go on. And every woman needed such a “place” from which to view Life,
la Vida,
or it could all suddenly get to be too overwhelming to handle.

The Mother of God continued Humming, Singing, and this time when Doña Margarita awoke, she felt much better.

“Oh, that was wonderful, my Lady,” said the old She-Fox. She stretched and yawned, then smiled. “By the way, my Lady,” she said, feeling refreshed and full of mischief, “have you heard the one about Don Cacahuate, Mr. Peanuts, going to church on Good Friday?”

“No, I haven't,” said the Virgin
de Guadalupe.

“Well, there was Don Cacahuate,” said Doña Margarita, “with all the people following the priest through the Holy Stations of the Cross, picture by picture, as they all said the rosary. And at every station that they'd come to, the priest would describe the picture before they prayed. And here,' would say the priest, ‘we have Our Lord Jesus being whipped as he carried the cross up the hill.'

“‘Ha,' would say Don Cacahuate under his breath, ‘I'd like to see Him married to my wife, Josefina, for just two minutes!'

“Then they'd go to the next picture and the priest would say, And here we have Our Lord God Jesus falling to one knee and struggling to get up as the soldiers whip him.'

”‘Ha,' would say Don Cacahuate, ‘I'd like to see Him married for just two minutes to my wife, Josefina!'

“And so they went through all Holy Stations of the Cross, My Lady,” said Doña Margarita, “and finally getting to the last one, not only did Don Cacahuate say—but all the people now said along with him—'Ha! That's nothing! We'd like to see Him married for just two minutes to Josefina!'

“Just then, Don Cacahuate's wife, Josefina, entered the church and everyone scattered, even the priest, running the fastest of all!”

Saying this, Doña Margarita was laughing and laughing. “Don't that beat all, my Lady, even the tortures that Your Son, Lord Jesus, endured are nothing compared to the fears that some people have of being married!

“And how did this human phenomenon come about? Eh, You tell me? Because as I see it, my Lady, it should be the other way around, and people should be most happy to be paired off together so that they can work out their differences in the Loving Union of Marriage.

“But so many of us aren't. Why, right now, as we speak, even my last-born, who I raised up like a woman so he'd have respect for women, still has trouble dealing with the
problemas
that arise in life, without wanting to blame it all on his wife, Lupe.”

Just then, as the Virgin Mary and Doña Margarita were speaking, Jesus Christ came walking up.

“Oh, no, not now,” said Doña Margarita, seeing Jesus. “Your Mother and I are busy talking and—well, You know how You get once You start talking.”

“Margarita!” said the Virgin Mary.

“Oh, no,” said Doña Margarita, closing her eyes in concentration, “it's true and I will not be intimidated by You, my Lady, or Your Most Holy Son. This conversation is strictly between Us, Women of Substance, and so Your Son, Jesus, can wait His turn, my Lady!”

Jesus started laughing and laughing. “It's all right, Mother,” He said to the Blessed Virgin. “I'll be happy to wait and listen, and . . . learn.”

And so Jesus lay back in a pew, relaxing as His Mother and Doña Margarita continued their conversation. And Jesus looked so happy and all at peace . . . like in a sunny meadow with Trees and Birds all about Him as He leisurely chewed on a Blade of Grass—truly enjoying Himself!

LEAVING THE DOCTOR
'
S OFFICE,
Salvador was very quiet as they drove over to Lupe's parents' home.

“Is something the matter?” asked Lupe, as they drove down the tree-lined street in front of her parents' home.

“No,” he said, “everything is fine.” He just had no idea how to put into words all the things he was feeling since that doctor had spoken to him.

“Well, all right,” said Lupe, “but ever since we left the doctor's office, you've been very quiet.”

“Yes, that's true,” said Salvador, and he wanted to speak, to tell Lupe everything, but he just didn't know where to even begin. His mind was still spinning with all of the things the doctor had told him.

Going inside of Lupe's parents' house, there was Sophia and her bunch of kids and Salvador immediately almost asked Lupe's older sister if the doctor had spoken to her and her husband about family planning, too.

But Sophia looked so happy and full of life and mischief, that he didn't want to bring up this terrible subject. My God, children couldn't be planned! That would be like planning to buy a car? Like figuring out which groceries to get? Or like deciding which animals to breed on the
rancho?
Oh, how disgusting! He had to spit, the thought was so repulsive!

“I was just telling
mama,”
said Sophia to Lupe and Salvador, “that
mi esposo
and Victoriano will be in late today. They're with
Señor
Whitehead, who once more is working with old man Irvine.”

“But didn't he die?” asked Salvador.

“No,” said Sophia, “you and Victoriano saved his life when you surprised him. The shot only grazed his head and the doctors were able to save him.”

“Oh, I didn't know,” said Salvador. “He's a good man. I'm glad he lived.”

Sophia started laughing. “The talk is that now the old man is living with a bunch of goats inside of his house.”

“Inside of the house, itself?” said Salvador.

“Yes, that's what I was told,” said Sophia full of mischief. “And his family has gotten so upset with him that they've left to live in that cold, smelly swamp with the mosquitoes of
Puerto Nuevo,
Newport, I think, they call it, because old man Irvine will not hear of getting rid of his goats.

“And I guess the goats have done wonders for his disposition,” she continued, “because everybody says that Irvine has had a complete change of heart and he now treats his workers and
Señor
Whitehead very well. I guess the goats' milk did it.”

“Of course,” said Don Victor, playing with one of his grandkids, “men who didn't get enough breast when babies never find peace until they're put on goats' milk. And the goat's tits are even better,” added Don Victor. “I bet you that this is why he keeps the goats in the house, so he can suck the milk directly from the she-goats,” and Don Victor was laughing.

“I took him the goats,” said Salvador.

Everyone turned and stared at Salvador.

Salvador now told Lupe's family the story of his mother and the wallet full of money, and how the young priest had driven his mother to the Irvine place.

Laughter echoed out of the little house and all through the
barrio
when Salvador finished his story.

But Lupe's mother, Doña Guadalupe, didn't think the story was funny and she made the sign of the cross over herself and led them all in a prayer for the troubled soul of the Irvine
familia,
the richest family in all the area.

IT WAS GETTING LATE
and Salvador and Lupe decided to have their talk with Carlota about her coming with them to stay in Carlsbad with Lupe to keep her company while she was pregnant and Salvador was gone.

“Ha!” said Carlota, becoming suspicious, “you just want a maid to clean the house for you, I'm not going to be fooled! Besides, I make a lot of money in the fields and I have the responsibility of helping
mama
and
papar!”

Salvador was ready to throw in the towel. “Forget her,” he said to Lupe. “We'll find someone from the
barrio
to come and stay with you.”

“No,” said Lupe. “I don't want someone from the
barrio.
I want my sister. She's
mi familia,
and I want her support.”

“Well, what can we do, she doesn't want to come,” said Salvador.

Suddenly Carlota got a twinkle in her left eye. “You remember that red dress we saw in that window at Long Beach, eh, Lupe,” said Carlota, “when Salvador tried to poison me with the fish,” she added.

“Yes,” said Lupe, “I remember the dress. It was very beautiful.”

“But I didn't try to poison her with any damn fish,” said Salvador. My God, now no one even bothered to question her about that fish poisoning story anymore. It was just being accepted as truth.

“And remember the red shoes, Lupe?” continued Carlota.

“Yes,” said Lupe.

“Well, if Salvador buys both of these for me, I'll forgive him and come and stay with you, Lupe, but I will not do all the housework!”

“And nobody is asking you to,” said Lupe. “I just need somebody to be with me when Salvador is gone and—”

But Lupe was never able to finish her words. Carlota was now leaping and yelling about her new dress and red dancing shoes that Lupe and Salvador had promised to buy her!

THAT NIGHT,
Salvador and Lupe drove home very quietly back to Carlsbad. In two days, they'd return to pick Carlota up. She'd have to give notice where she worked with Victoriano and Sophie's husband. Work, after all, was becoming harder to find. The farmers weren't shipping as much produce and fruit east anymore. Going down the long driveway to their little rented house in Carlsbad, Salvador and Lupe both knew that something very big had just happened to them in their married life together.

Immediately, going into the house, Salvador went to the back of their home and got the quart bottle of whiskey that he kept hidden underneath his work clothes and boots. And he was going to have a good belt there, in hiding, when Lupe came up.

“Is that a bottle of whiskey?” asked she.

“Yes,” said Salvador. It had been a long day and ever since that visit with the doctor, Salvador had been feeling desperate. “I thought I'd have a drink,” he said, feeling caught. “If you don't mind.”

“Of course, I don't mind,” said Lupe, looking at Salvador and his bottle. “This is your house, after all. And if you are going to be drinking, then I think it's better for you not to be hiding. My mother, she kept a bottle to have a drink now and then, too. In fact, the first time I saw her drink was on the night when the twins were born.”

“Well, then, let's just consider this a drink to our first child,” said Salvador, following Lupe into the kitchen and serving himself his first drink in his own home, here, in front of his very own wife, and he gulped it down hard.

“I'll go change,” said Lupe, leaving the room. Something really strange had been going on with Salvador all afternoon. She could just feel it here inside of herself.

“I'll be right here,” said Salvador, serving himself another shot.

In the bedroom, Lupe took off her coat and then walked into the bath-room, getting ready for bed. And she just knew that whatever was troubling Salvador had to do with their doctor's visit, but she wasn't going to pry.

Having gotten ready for bed, Lupe came back into the kitchen and found Salvador sitting at the kitchen table with the moonlight coming in the window behind him. The big whiskey bottle was half empty.

“Salvador!” yelled Lupe. “But what is going on? Why are you drinking like this? Is it because you're afraid of my sister coming to live with us?”

His eyes were bloodshot. He looked absolutely awful. “Well, no, I mean, yes, but it's not just her, Lupe,” he said, slurring his words and his eyes rolling about with drunkenness. “I love you so much!” he said. “And we've been so happy, especially in bed, but now, well—damnit!” he yelled, “it's all got to stop,
querida!”

“But what's got to stop?” she asked, coming closer and smelling him.

“Us! Me and you! Our love-making! Everything!” he yelled.

Lupe looked at him, sitting there surrounded by the moonlight coming in the window, and she had no understanding of what he was saying. “But Salvador, why are you saying that we need to stop our love-making?” She felt like a knife had just cut into her heart. “I don't understand, Salvador.”

“Because, Lupe,” he said, staring at her, “I don't want you losing your teeth!”

“My teeth?” she asked.

“Yes, the doctor, he told me that lots of children don't fill out a woman like I'd always been told. No, that lots of children kill her. And when I told him that my mother had had nineteen kids, he asked me if she has any teeth. And, well, what could I say? I'd always thought that kids were a blessing from God, and we could never have too many, because God loved us, and He knew what was best for us, but this doctor said no, no, no, if we want teeth and a long, happy life, like him and his dried-up skinny wife, then we can't have a home full of kids!”

Lupe almost felt like laughing. All this sounded so ridiculous, so crazy. “Salvador,” she said, “are you telling me that the doctor told you that we shouldn't have any children or I'd lose my teeth?”

“Oh, no, we can have a few children,” he quickly said, “but not every eighteen months, or I'll wear you out. That nurse, you remember, the one who took you in to see him, she's his wife and she's in her fifties! But, my God, I thought she was maybe only thirty-five!”