The Children of Sanchez (77 page)

BOOK: The Children of Sanchez
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Manuel and María moved into the Casa Grande to take care of the four children. For a while everything was fine. Then that witch, Delila, moved into the new house my father had built for her. She took everything out of the Casa Grande and left Manuel without so much as a chair, a dish, or a stove. She took Marta’s things, too, and would have taken the flooring as well, if she could. For no reason at all, she tore up my Stenography Certificate and my school papers. Seeing that Manuel had nothing, and always thinking of his children, I told him to go to Lupita’s house for my little bed. I also had a big bed there which I would let him have for the children to sleep on. I had sold the mattress to my half-sister, Antonia, so he would have to buy another. I needed money at the time and offered to sell him both beds for only a hundred
pesos
. I considered that just.
Caramba!
He was older than I, and a man, so I thought he should pay me something. Well, he gave me fifty-five
pesos
and forgot about the rest. That’s the way it remained … well, he was my brother.

The thing that infuriated me was that he didn’t buy a mattress and made the children sleep on filthy hemp bags spread over the bedsprings. He and his wife slept in the little bed, on a mattress, and well covered with a blanket. But those poor little things had only a piece of an old quilt over them and they froze all night. Only my brother, who had no soul, could not see the injustice of it.

Mariquita developed bronchitis and was hoarse for three weeks, until I took her to the Children’s Hospital. Her father didn’t even want to pay for her medicine! One evening, I found little Concha lying on a pile of rags on the floor, burning with fever. María and Manuel hadn’t noticed she was sick! María’s relatives began to move in and the room became a madhouse. I felt I couldn’t let a day pass without going to
see what new calamity was happening to the kids. I pestered Manuel to buy a mattress for their bed. He told me to mind my own business and if I loved them so much, to take them and support them.

“Yes, I’ll take your children but I’ll see that you go to jail first!” I shouted back. “And you know now that I do what I say.”

I began to take the children to my room at Juanita’s house for four or five days at a time. How I wanted to keep them with me always! I felt they were truly mine. I wished I had a home of my own where they could run and play freely, where they would hear only loving words and would live the way children should. Slowly my wish became a need to do this for them.

Meanwhile, we heard from Marta in Acapulco. She was expecting her fourth child—and I didn’t even have one! My
papá
went to see her and returned saying she lived in a place unfit for animals. Who knows whether he wasn’t exaggerating. But frankly, I didn’t want to hear about my sister. I was much more interested in finding a home for me and the children, yes, and for my brother Roberto.

Roberto had a woman now, his wife, Antonia. He had no house, no job, no clothes, but yes, he had a woman! They were like two little children, sleeping through life. He kept the poor thing, first at my aunt’s, and then in the Casa Grande. But my
papá
was angry with Roberto for having hit Delila and one day he chased my brother out. “You cannot stay here!” he said. “You have mud on you and yet you expect to be given a prize!”

We were all embarrassed and angry because he said this in the presence of Antonia, who began to cry. Without a word to my father, Roberto said, “Grab your blanket, old girl, and let’s go.”

I begged my father to let them stay until they found another place. Thank God, he agreed. My poor brother began to think of setting up a room of his own, although he still had no job. Partly because of him and partly because I, too, wanted a home of my own, I proposed that we share an apartment together. I couldn’t do it alone, but with their help … I had learned to live on a budget and knew the value of money. Every two weeks, on payday, I set aside half the rent, paid ten or fifteen
pesos
on the money I had borrowed to buy clothes, put aside twenty
pesos
for bus fares and snacks, and laid up a week’s supply of food. If I had anything left, I would get little things, very insignificant things, for my aunt or for the children. More often, I was short of money before payday and had to go without one or two meals.

I had to convince Roberto that it would be a good thing to live together. “Man! It will be a help to you. I know someone who can get you a job on the railroad or on a Coca-Cola truck and then you can pay half the rent and expense money. Antonia can cook and clean for us and will be happy all day in her own house.” He finally agreed and we found a little two-room apartment with a kitchen and a bathroom, in a modest building not far from the Casa Grande.

I was enchanted with it; Roberto and Antonia thought it was a palace! It had windows through which the sun poured all day, a wood-burning water heater in the bathroom, running water, and tiled floors. The rooms were tiny even without furniture, but so much the better, since we had none. The rent was 240
pesos
a month. We left eighty-five
pesos
as a deposit and went to look for a cosigner for the contract. My father flatly refused. Antonia and Roberto knew no one who would be accepted, and I finally had to ask the supervisor of my office to do it. I sent Antonia back two or three times to leave more money as a deposit and to be certain the landlady would hold it for us. Roberto became annoyed at all the delays and fuss. “So much bother for a damned apartment,” he kept saying. He had no idea what it meant to have a home and to pay rent and I think he lost interest, or became frightened. Anyway, he told me he didn’t want it any more and I could keep it for myself. I tried to get my deposit back but couldn’t, so there I was, stuck with it.

When I moved my things over in a taxi, all I had were my clothes, a radio and an ironing board. I had warned Manuel that if he didn’t give me the rest of the money for the beds, for a down payment on a new one, I would take back my little bed. He paid no attention to me, and the day I moved, I went to the Casa Grande and took my bed, leaving them the mattress. Naturally, he and María were angry, but how could I sleep on the floor? Later, Manuel was heartless enough to take the big bed for himself and put the children on the floor, where they had no protection from the rats. I counted nine large holes in the flooring, and my brother did nothing to close them up! He bought a good mattress for the bed, and let the children sleep on a straw
petate
!

Well, I fought him on that because I had told him when I sold it to him that the big bed was for the children. He said he had paid for it and could do what he pleased with it. He refused to speak to me even when I chased after him in the street. That decided it! I went straight to the Casa Grande, left the money with María, and took away the bed
in a taxi. Roberto wanted me to give it to him, but
chihuahua
! after all the things he had done to me I wouldn’t give it unless he paid for it. I finally sold it to a neighbor for one hundred
pesos
.

I had been well off in Juanita’s house and gave up many comforts when I changed. I didn’t have enough money to have the electricity connected, so I used candles the first month. No wardrobe for my clothing, no stove, no way to iron. It took one hour to get to work and I had no time for breakfast. I had to use my food money for other things and for days I ate only coffee and bread. Luckily for me, at ten-thirty every morning, all the girls in my office chipped in to buy candy and cookies and soft drinks.

I worked extra hours to earn money to fix up the house, but Christmas came around and I still had no furniture. One evening, I went to pay Juanita some money I owed her and I confided my troubles to her. I told her I wanted money to be able to bring my nieces and nephews into my home, once and for all, but it would take forever to save enough from what I earned. “I shall have to borrow money at interest.”


Ay
, Consuelo, what a shame! Why don’t you try out in the ‘Amateur Hour’ on television? You can sing! You can dance! If you win, you will have a pile of money, and contracts for jobs as well!”

All I could think of was, “I must have money. I must have money.” I wasn’t looking well. I had lost weight and was pale. Every few weeks I had a cold or bronchitis or stomach trouble. But the thought of winning money gave me strength, and one day I went to the offices of the
televicentro
. I passed the test for singers and dancers and was accepted for the final tryouts. One of the judges thought I was better “material” for dancing than for singing, and instead of putting me on the “Amateur Hour,” they gave me a scholarship to study dancing at the School of Fine Arts! They would pay all the expenses and after six months, if I did well, I would be launched as a dancer in the theatre or movies or in a night club so that I could pay them back. I said yes to everything, without thinking, and there were more appointments, telephone calls and interviews. In April, I entered the school of modern dance.

I worked at my government job until 2:30
P.M.
every day, and had classes at the dancing school from four to eight or nine o’clock every evening. I was on a scholarship but had to take out another loan to buy dance slippers, a leotard, and extra fares. I worked furiously at the exercises and the steps, to catch up with the others in the class
It took an amazing amount of energy and left me sweating profusely. All those previous months of not eating well had undermined my body. I was still eating on the run … some days I had nothing but Coca-Colas and sweets until supper time at ten o’clock at night. By then, Roberto and Antonia were living with me, and to save a few
pesos
, I waited until I went home to eat what my sister-in-law had prepared. Never in my life had I worked so hard! I had to budget my time and my money, every minute and every
centavo
counted.

After two months of this, I began to have bad headaches every day. I couldn’t get up in the morning and all day I was too tired to work. I lost weight and felt that my spirit and my health were going. I didn’t see how I could possibly continue to study dancing. It looked as though I had to face another defeat, another disillusionment. What was I to do with the volcano of hope that had been aroused in me, the hope to become something, the hope not to die without leaving a mark behind me?

So when one of the young men in the dance class asked me if I would like to be a movie extra during the vacation, I accepted. Through him, I got a job at the Churubusco Studios. I was very happy, and a bit afraid, to be there among the stars and important people of the movie industry. Never in my life had I dreamed of acting before a camera, and
zas!
there I was, on location. I acted as naturally as I could and they seemed to be satisfied, for they kept me on a whole week. I earned 190
pesos
, including meals, for those seven exciting days.

As I was hanging about the employment office, hoping for another assignment, this character, a minor actor, came over and told me to get into the car, for he was taking me on location. I believed him and got in.

“What kind of work are you looking for?”

“I? Well, I like to sing. But I am only an amateur.”

“That’s nothing, one must begin somewhere. We all must start at the bottom to get to the top. Look at me! I’m not ashamed to admit I started with nothing, and now look where I am. Have you seen my last film?”

“No, I don’t go to the movies often. What did you say your name was?”

While we were speaking,
Señor
Ángel Montero drove his big car out of the studios onto a tree-lined highway. He was handsome and well dressed and … an actor! He showed me some of his recent photos
and promised to autograph one for me. He spoke of his roles, of the famous stars he knew; he said that he was starting a booking agency and was looking for talent. He needed a young woman to sing with a trio. He asked me to sing. When the song was over, he looked impressed.

“Man! I admit I didn’t expect you to be that good! I think you will do. All you need is some coaching to get more expression into it. I’ll get the singer, Sarita, to coach you. She’s a good friend of mine and won’t refuse. I’ll take you there right now.”


Señor À
ngel, excuse me, but aren’t we going on location?”

“What a girl! Don’t you trust me? I don’t know how others have treated you, but I am a gentleman.”

“No, no! I didn’t mean that … I would like to meet
Señora
Sarita. I was simply curious … just asking, that’s all.”

“That’s better. Look, the truth is, I like you. If you only knew how many women … how many opportunities I have! I don’t look for them, they run after me. For example, do you know the actress Martita? Well …”

While he spoke, I thought, “Naturally, knowing all the artists, he wouldn’t bother with me.” We had been driving for quite a while. It had begun to rain. He kept talking about his women friends and about himself. I began to get apprehensive.

“Where is Sarita’s house? I didn’t know it would be so far.”

“Man! I told you it is near. Don’t you trust me? You make me feel like a barbarian!”

“Excuse me,
Señor
Ángel, but I’m anxious to meet her.”

He looked angry and I felt ashamed of myself. Suddenly, he turned into a driveway and there before my eyes, through the heavy rain, I saw the word “Motel.”


Señor
Ángel, I am not going in there! You said we would go on location, that’s why I went with you.”

“Sh! Stop making a racket. I don’t like that kind of clowning. I’ll take you on location, but right now I’m tired.”

He stopped the car in front of one of the bungalows and got out to open my door. I was nervous and worried. I felt a lump in my throat and wanted to cry but couldn’t because of fear or shame. I wouldn’t get out. It was raining hard and he was getting very wet. He pulled me out of the car and held my arm so tight it hurt.

“I don’t want to go in. Let me alone!” How humiliated I felt!

BOOK: The Children of Sanchez
8.86Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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