Happy That It's Not True (2 page)

Chapter Two

In the morning, Cara’s eyes slowly opened to see the sunlight patterns dancing on sky blue walls—walls which had become another of uncle Diego’s canvases.  The large Florida strangler tree outside created its own paintings with shadows and sun ringlets—the branches and leaves moving back and forth across the mural.  Saturday gave her time to study the brushstrokes of puffy white clouds and hot air balloons.  She tilted her head back to look at the upside-down acrylic apple tree and playful animals huddled by the roots—Diego’s signature, carefully hidden in the blades of grass.  She was too young to remember when her Tio had painted the murals, but it made her feel special, like the main character in a children’s book.

Cara, still in her baseball team shirt, sat up and let herself fall to the floor, pulled on a pair of baggy shorts and walked to the window.  Squinting, she peaked through the blinds and noticed that Mom’s car was not there yet.  She quietly went into Alex’s room, and saw that he was still sleeping, the sheets on the floor, his limbs spread like he had jumped out of a plane and was falling to earth. 

Cara looked into her parents’ room, but there was no one there; so she tiptoed out into the living room.  Octavio was lying on the couch also skydiving with one arm by his side and the other hanging to the floor.  She tried not to make a sound, but Octavio opened his eyes, turned his head toward her and scanned the room.

“Hey pumpkin,” Octavio said in a tired voice.

“Hey Daddy,” she said walking towards him, her hands reaching out for a hug.

He sat up and held her.  “Mommy will be here any moment—want to help me make breakfast?”

“Yes!”

“Have I ever told you that you’re the most wonderful little girl in the whole wide world?  Cara, one day you’ll marry a prince—a perfect man—just like your father.”  Octavio and Cara both giggled, looking into each other’s eyes.

“Actually, he doesn’t have to be perfect.  You know your Mom and I are like beauty and the beast?  Mom is like the beautiful Belle and I’m the hideous beast.  I asked her over and over to marry me, but she wouldn’t do it.  So I died of sadness.”

“Na-uhh!  You didn’t die.”  Cara smiled. 

              “She saw me and cried and her tear fell on me and turned me into a prince—she brought me back to life.”

They had only managed to get the eggs and some other ingredients out of the refrigerator when they heard the closing of a car door.

“Mommy’s home!” Cara said and ran out the door.  Adriana, a garden of beauty, provided Cara’s eyes, hair and slender frame.  She grabbed Cara by the arms and swung her until she came to rest with her legs around her nursing scrubs. 

“How was the game last night?”

“We won.”

“That’s grea
t
Hijit
a
.  I wish I could’ve come.  I work all night and you have fun—that’s not fair,” Adriana laughed.

“Why do you have to work?”

“That’s just how life is—work is good—I get to help people.”

“We were about to make breakfast for you.”

The two walked into the house.  Octavio and Adriana exchanged Mi Vida’s and Mi Amor’s and kissed.  A smiling Alex came put-putting out into the living room, the coy squint of his eyes exaggerated for sympathy and cuteness.

...

After breakfast, Octavio and Adriana were alone at the table drinking decaf.  Cara and Alex could be heard giggling in another room.  Adriana reached into her pocket, took out the paper sign and unfolded it. 

“
Miracle in progress,
”
Octavio said.  “Yeah, you told me about that.  What happened?”

Adriana looked down and shook her head.

“So the patient died,” Octavio whispered.

“Tavi, it was the most depressing thing—these people were so positive—the most positive people I’ve ever seen.  Shows you how far being positive will get you—really depressing—you almost lose your ability to hope for anything.”

“I don’t know what I’d do without hope.  Remember when you got pregnant at sixteen?  It seemed like the end of all your dreams, but everything worked out—things work out somehow.”

“When Cara turns sixteen, you better believe she’s gonna be on birth control.”

“Adriana—My God—do we have to think about that kinda stuff already?”

“I’m serious, Tavi.  Life shouldn’t be so hard.  I’m working my butt off at night and you’re on the other side of the world getting shot at.  And I’m starting to wonder if you’ve even thought about everything I’ve been telling you.  We’re in serious trouble, Tavi—and you seem clueless.”

...

Cara sat on the doorsteps of the house next-door with her friend Michelle who was a couple of years older.  Both had their chins on their knees looking down at ants that crawled along the grout on the tiled steps.  Cara imagined the ants heading toward some underground metropolis of silent drama. 

“Did you hear about Sheryl Janzovich?” Michelle asked.

“No.”

“My parents said she tried to commit suicide.”

Michelle could tell by the look on her face that Cara hadn’t understood what she said.  “She tried to kill herself!” 

Cara’s face went from a blank stare to a morbid amazement, her mouth open, not knowing what to say.

“She was texting her boyfriend and sent him dirty pictures, and then they broke up and he began sending the pictures to all the boys at school—”

“Dirty?”  Cara didn’t understand what that meant.    

“She had no clothes on!”

“Ohhh.”

“So they all started calling her a slut and teasing her—that’s why she cut her wrists.”

Cara also didn’t know wha
t
slu
t
meant, but knew that it must have been a bad thing.  If she had been so wrong abou
t
dirt
y
, then what could slut mean?  She pictured Sheryl Janzovich in her mind, associating her face with the terrible word. 

Cara and Michelle heard soft thuds and got up and walked towards the source of the sound. Matt, her other next-door neighbor, was out in the front yard juggling a soccer ball with his legs, wearing a white shirt that said FREE HUGS in large bold letters.  He was listening to his MP3 player, his attention fixed on the ball.  Cara and Michelle both ran to see him.

“Hey Matt!” Michelle said.

“Hi Matt!” Cara said.

Matt pulled out his ear buds and asked, “Hey—think you can do this?”  He stopped and let the ball fall to the grass.

Michelle picked up the ball and bounced it on her foot, which made the ball roll away from her. 

“Try using the shoelace part of your foot,” Matt suggested.

Michelle tried it again, but was unable to start a juggle.

“Michelle—come here!” a voice in the distance shouted.

              “That’s my mom—gotta go,” Michelle said and ran home.

              “Want to try, Cara?” Matt said.

              Cara was barefoot.  She thought about where the laces would be on her foot and arched her toes to scoop the ball out of the grass.  It popped straight up and she kneed it even higher.  Matt snatched it out of the air, the ball having moved out of her reach.

              “Whoa—that was really good! —try not to use your knees, just the thighs.”

              Cara was giddy and could not stop smiling.  She was with Matt.  So many times she had seen him out of her bedroom window.  A teenager.  It was a little scary, especially after the story Michelle had just told.  She wondered if Matt could ever cause a girl to kill herself—if he could ever do something that bad.                Matt bounced the ball on the top of his foot and then to his thighs to demonstrate.  Cara looked up past the juggling to his face.  The bright sun set his straight light brown hair ablaze like a golden crown.  She looked at the words FREE HUGS and wondered how she could get one.

              Cara was glad that Matt wasn’t looking at her, that he wouldn’t be able to read her face—see into her heart.  She was conscious of her mannerisms, her adoration.                 

              “Want to try again?”

              “Okay,” she said, startled, as if caught stealing.

              Matt handed her the ball and she bounced it on her thigh very carefully holding her hands out to correct the trajectory.  She heard screaming coming from her house.  The ball fell to the ground.  It took her a moment to realize that her parents were arguing.  She thought she heard Adriana sayin
g
I can’t live like thi
s
and Octavio sayin
g
what do you want from m
e
? 

Matt also noticed the screaming and said, “Hey—you wanna hear some really cool music?”  He put his buds into her ears, which had been left on and screeching the whole time.  Matt looked at her house with an expression of concern.  Cara invaded Matt’s world of ferocious drum playing and thunderous guitars.  She smiled and nodded her head to the snare.  Matt gave her his MP3 player and closed her hands around it.

For a few minutes Matt practiced his volleys and ground kicks into the bushes.  Cara was unsure if she should take off the buds—if this would undermine Matt’s attempt to shield her from distressing sounds.  A Kia pulled up on the driveway, and she decided that it might be a good time to remove the buds.  The argument in her house had ended.  A pretty blonde girl about Matt’s age got out of the car and walked toward him.

“Free hugs?” she said and jumped on Matt, tackling him to the ground and kissing him.  Cara felt strange new emotions:  jealousy and a desire to be older.

“Wanna go out and grab a bite?” the girl said.

“All right, let me tell my parents I’m gonna run out for a little bit.”  Matt turned to Cara and said, “Hold on to my music for a while,” and went inside the house.

The girl walked up to Cara.  “Hey bitch why don’t you go home—little slut!”  A dull pain filled Cara’s being.  She was too angry and humiliated to cry, but that was what her eyes were determined to do.  She turned around to walk home and felt a shove in her back and fell to the ground.  She quickly leaped to her feet and ran home, refusing to let her oppressor see her tears.

Cara was about to open the door to her house when she heard more screaming.  It was Adriana’s anguished howling that seemed to give words to her own emotions, only the words made no sense, something about th
e
adjustable rate mortgag
e
—and then the critical stabs:
 
You can’t even remember that you had a doctor’s appointment today...you can’t remember anything...we have bills to pay... none of these greedy companies car
e
tha
t
you’re fighting for this country.  Octavio I love you, but this is unbearabl
e—
no lo puedo soportar.

Cara didn’t want to go in the house, but needed a sanctuary.  She kept her head down, not knowing if she had been seen entering and moved cautiously toward the feet of her parents.  “I just wanted to say that I love you both very much.  I just wanted to say that you’re the best Mommy and Papi in the whole world.  And I know how hard you must work to take care of me and Alejandro.  I just wanted to say that.”

...

Later that evening as it was getting dark, Octavio sat in his car, hardly able to lift his head.  Adriana leaned against the car, clinging to his arm, reading his face with her palm.  Her eyes felt warm and tired from the waves of tears that had poured out like dew on the yard.

Adriana spoke as if having to slaughter her prized lamb.  “Baby—we should probably do this—honey.  We have to do something to save our marriage.  This isn’t a marriage—Tavi.  We’re not intimate—we just fight.  If this is marriage—then why be married?” 

Octavio, unashamed to let Adriana see him cry, reacted with words that he could not anticipate.  “I don’t want us to separate—I don’t want us to separate—please—please—this can’t happen—Oh God—oh God.”

“Baby—baby—I love you—it’s only to give us a chance.  Sometimes at the hospital we have to do some drastic things to save people’s lives.”

Octavio took a deep breath and stared at some invisible and somber point of realization in front of him.

“I’m gonna try and get better.  But if anything should happen—please promise me that you’ll never be bitter.  Please don’t ever throw away our wedding pictures.  You looked so beautiful in those pictures.”

“I won’t throw anything away, Octavio.”

Adriana wept as she kissed Octavio’s head.  “I’m so sorry.  Let’s do it for Alex and Cara.  You get better—come by as much as you want.  Just please get better Tavi.  You know how much I love you.  I need you to get better.”

Cara, once again, looked out the window at her father’s car.  Adriana’s presence comforted her—it offered hope that perhaps her father’s needs were being tended to.  She was just a girl—what could she possibly know about solving problems she couldn’t even understand?  Things seemed simple enough.  You love someone and you find ways to express that love.  If Daddy was in a bad mood—then why not let him be in a bad mood?  Yet there was much more.  She knew this—life was a bit more complicated.