The Willow Tree: A Novel (11 page)

The personnel, too, reflected the streets, her neighborhood. One woman who wheeled her to the treatment room was very nice, but there was another woman who wouldnt hold the chair while she got up and would make her wait in the hall a long time before taking her back to her room. And there were some who wouldnt help anyone do anything, who would look at you as you asked them for help then walk away and Maria would watch them and wonder why they were like that, and when it happened to her she wondered what she had done for them to be that way.

Each time she was in the treatment room she tried to force herself to ask them how she was doing, if everything was alright, but she was unable, frozen into silence by the angry stare of the nurse who unwound her bandages and helped the doctor when he got there. An aide was taking the bandages and throwing them away and noticed Maria wincing as the nurse roughly unwound the remaining strips from her face, You alright?

The nurse glared at her, Shes doing just fine—looking at Maria with contempt.

Maria tried to answer but was completely subdued by the nurses attitude and sat trembling and frightened.

The aide looked at Marias face and shivered, the flesh a searing red, twisted and swollen, almost covering her eyes, the burns so severe her face looked as if many layers of skin had been ripped away exposing the inner flesh and had been raked with a grater so that it looked as if it were constantly screaming. Maria blinked at the aide who eventually realized she was staring at Marias face and averted her eyes, desperately trying to think of something she could say or do, but, nothing came out of her mouth until she finally touched Maria on the shoulder and said, It will be alright—then quickly turned her back so she wouldnt get sick.

The nurse noticed the procedure and glared at the aide before applying the medication, Dont worry, theyll patch her up…at our expense of course—wrapping the bandages around Marias face—drug addicts and street whores, and god knows what else, while still in their teens…while decent people have to work hard to pay for all this. Makes a person wonder if theres any justice in this world. If I had my way….

When Maria was back in her bed she lay still for hours, seemingly not breathing, seeing the nurses face and hearing her words. She understood the words, but she didnt know what she meant, but she did know what the nurse meant by the tone of her voice and the look on her face. From time to time a shiver would go through Maria as the nurses face came right up to hers and silently laughed in her face and Maria could feel a whimper in her chest but everything remained silent even as the nurses words continued to go through her head, time after time, after time, and her face continued to remain in front of her, from time to time threatening to suffocate her, everything else disappearing, there being only Maria and the nurses face and words, and Maria trying to understand what she had done, why the nurse said the things she had and what they meant about Marias face…would she get better? The doctor said she would be alright, she wouldnt the…ugly…street dirt…cant patch up…and Maria wondered what she looked like, ever since it happened she wondered what she looked like, but now she was frozen with fear, nobody had said anything, but she said, Ugly, ugly, ugly….Ugly like what? What was she ugly like? The old woman in the Bodega with all the moles and hairs and warts???? But she was old. Older even than the bario, how could she be that ugly???? She was a big girl, but would never be so old and ugly….

                                   and Marias thoughts went round and round in confusion and terror, wondering what the nurse meant when she said she was a whore, she was no whore, not street dirt, she lived in an apartment with her mommy and everyone. What had she done to the nurse????

             and the internal sobbing continued to grow as Maria tried to somehow free herself from the onslaught of thoughts and images that were torturing her and she struggled to call to her mommy or god or something, anything to help her and somehow she started to slowly become aware of another sound in the room, an unfamiliar sound, one she had not noticed before and as she struggled with her pain, to break free of the images and words, the sound became louder and it finally forced her to move and she rolled over slightly and noticed the woman in the bed next to her struggling, moaning, trying to reach something and Maria squinted and tried to focus on her, to stare through the image of the nurse to see the woman and finally she could see she was trying to reach her water pitcher and was in a lot of pain each time she reached. Maria stared for a moment, her head still clouded with confusion, not knowing what she could do, not sure she was supposed to get out of bed, that if she did they might yell at her, but the longer she watched the woman struggling the more all the fears and concerns fell away and she slowly got up and leaned against her bed for a moment, then went over to the womans bed and picked up the water pitcher, This what you want? Yeah. Maria filled the womans glass with water and handed it to her, and put the pitcher where she could reach it. The woman took the pill from the cup on the table and swallowed it with the water then laid down and closed her eyes. Maria looked at her for a moment then hurried back to bed not wanting anyone to see her out of it.

The woman continued to lay quietly, eyes closed, then eventually opened them and forced a smile on her face as she looked at Maria and thanked her. That bitch of a nurse just dropped the pain pill and wouldnt move the pitcher so I could reach it…and she knows how much it hurts for me to reach…it just tears my back apart…rotten bitch—Maria could feel her head nodding slightly but though she knew what the woman was saying she wasnt really aware of it, nothing seemed to be registering—I/d like to take a cigarette lighter to that bitches tits, let her see what its like…jesus….Sometimes it just doesnt pay to be nice, I should teller what I think of her….

             the woman was quiet for a moment, adjusting her body to try and find a comfortable position, then looked at Maria, How you doin kid?

Maria wondered how she was? She couldnt seem to figure that out. She felt very scared, like something terrible was going to happen to her, but she didnt know what, just that terrible scared feeling in her stomach like when she didnt have her homework ready but only much, much worse. She tried to answer but didnt know what to say, seeming to be disconnected from herself and all the familiar surroundings looked strange somehow and she couldnt really figure anything out, like even where the bathroom was. She stared at the woman, blinking her eyes, I dont know.

How you feel?

My stomach hurts.

Yeah?

Its all fluttery like.

O….You scared kid?

I want to go home.

Somethin happen before…or anythin? They hurt ya when they changed your bandages? Sometimes they can be kindda rough on ya, ya know?

Whats plastic surgery? One day the doctor he said they give me plastic surgery.

Well, thats sorta like when they fix up ya skin, ya know after its been burned, or somethin, like you…you know, so it looks nice. Like the movie stars are always gettin it so they look young.

With plastic?

Huh? Plastic?—frowning at Maria, wishing she could see her expression, or at least her eyes so she could figure out what she was talking about—O, you mean like in plastic bags and stuff?

Sí.

Naa—the woman smiled then chuckled—Naa, not that kindda plastic. Its kindda like…well…its kindda like stuff they put in ya skin an sometimes they sorta take skin from one place an stick it in another…ya know, like they borrow Peter to pay Paul. That sortta thing. But they dont use no plastic.

I dont know what my face looks like. Can it be very ugly? I think maybe it is so terrible to see.

Dont worry kid. Did that bitch in the treatment room say any thin to ya?

She look funny at my face—Maria could feel her face pinch, and hurt, as she frowned trying to get through her confusion and fear and all the unknown invisible things that seem to wrap themselves around her—Im not bad…mommy say to me I am good girl—Maria shook her head—I dont know what I did to be so ugly.

The woman could hear that Maria was on the verge of tears, Hey, you dont gotta worry, youre a sweet kid. Theyll fix ya up just fine. Really, youll be just as good as new.

I dont know why I am so bad. My mommy, she cries, my grandmother, she cries…they beat up my boy friend an—You didn do that, you didnt do nothin, I can tell. Im a good judge a human nature an I know you didn do nothin.

But everyone cries—

Hey, whatta ya think, a mothers not gonna cry when her kids in the hospital? Sure shes gonna cry. A couple a years ago my youngest had tonsils, right here, downstairs, ya think I didn cry? Ya bet ya ass I did. Its alright kid.

I must be bad if—

Hey, thats crazy. Believe me—staring at Maria, her heart aching for the kid, trying to figure out what to say—I know youre alright, a good kid.

No, no, to be so ugly one must be very bad…very bad.—Maria rolled over onto her back and closed her eyes, her body filled with her whimperings, her hands clenched, fingernails imbedded in her palms, her quiet sobs interrupting her prayers to jesus and the virgin Mary, trying to remember the act of contrition but only remembering, Forgive me Ive sinned and then trying to talk to Mary and tell her how much she loved the baby jesus, all my life I love the baby jesus, and you holy mother, blessed virgin mother of god O Im bad…so bad my mommy cries and I am so terrible ugly like dirt in the street, like all that garbage everywhere, everywhere and the rats that eat the garbage that smells so bad like all the rotten things and I must be a rotten thing to be punished so bad O I dont want to go to hell, Im afraid to the and go to hell and burn in flames but Im so bad I have to hide my face so people dont get sick O help me blessed virgin I always loved the baby jesus, help me help me….

             Her mother and grandmother came into the room and Maria rolled over and reached for her mothers hand and instantly a great sorrow took away the smile from the mothers face and the lightness of her heart, Mommy, mommy—and once again Isabella saw the tears coming from the slits in the bandages, the eyes of her daughter that always sparkled with such life from the very moment of her birth 13 years ago, those lovely brown so soft eyes that always looked at her with such love but now they were only slits in white gauze and once again tears flowed from the slits as pain flowed from her little baby and the lightness, the hope of that day flowed away with the tears to be absorbed by the bandages.

Isabella and her mother felt better that morning than they had since first hearing that Maria had been hurt. The night before they smiled over coffee, telling each other in so many ways that their little baby was safe, that she would live, that soon the doctors would fix everything and send their baby home to them and she will be as before. There seemed to be more fresh air coming through the windows, and less noise, than usual. And so again this morning, as well as more light, a light that seemed happier than other mornings with clouds and dampness and heavy odors and screamings from the streets. This morning the smell of coffee overwhelmed everything and the children went yelling down the stairs to school, and mother and grandmother got the soup ready to take to the hospital, and there seemed to be more strength in their legs, especially in those of the old woman, and the trip through the streets, the bus and then the hospital went with ease as they looked forward to once more sitting by the bed of their baby, their Maria.

And then they were in her room and were instantly aware of her pain, feeling it wrap itself around them as they struggled to her bedside, the rigid, motionless little body on the bed seeming to scream and when it became aware of their presence it rolled and Marias agony could be heard as she called out to her mommy, reaching toward the frightened, confused women taking an eternity to reach her bed, their seeming to be a wave that kept pushing them back and no matter how much Maria reached they didnt seem to get any closer and she hung over the side of the bed as they reached to her but she seemed to be moving away just as they seemed to be fading away from Maria and time suddenly stopped but Marias folding over the edge continued but they could not get closer despite the stopping of time and they heard her tiny, pained voice crying like wind over waves, Mommy…mommy, mommy, mommy, mommy and Isabella called to her baby as the grandmothers prayers became louder and the woman in the next bed stared as moving bodies seemed to take forever to cross such a short distance, looking like a slow motion movie, their voices sounding scared even though she couldnt understand the words, but she kept blinking and shaking her head and then suddenly the mother was hugging the kid and the old woman was sort of hugging both of them and mumbling out loud and then the kid was back in the middle of the bed and the women were sitting down and it looked like it did all those other days, except now they were all talking at once and the kid was crying but soon they slowed down their talking and it got quiet and the woman once again closed her eyes and allowed the pain pill to ease her into a shallow sleep.

Maria clung to her mommys arm, sobbing, telling her she was sorry, she would never do it again and her mother held her as close as she could and told her she had done nothing, confused and shocked by Marias fear and pain, not knowing what had suddenly happened and filled with fear that her baby was going to the and Maria kept talking abut how ugly she was and she must have done something wrong and Isabella kept telling her the doctor said she would be alright, they will make you look just as you always looked, the doctor said they will do this when you are healed from the burns. Is that what he said? Yes—turning to her mother—Isnt that so momma? The old woman nodded, Yes, it is so. See, it is true, he said you will be alright. And I am not ugly? No, my little sweetheart. You are my pretty one. Maria continued to hold her mothers hands and blink away tears, and her mother continued to soothe, comfort and reassure her, relaxing more and more herself as she told Maria, over and over, that she was alright, the doctor said they will fix everything….