Read Online Ada Unraveled by Barbara Sullivan - Free Book Online Page B

getting better now?” I said.
    “Yes. No. Maybe a little, away from the
borders. But I grew up feeling ashamed of being
Mexican…Mexican-American.”
    “Which is why you’ve taken a half-Mayan
name?”
    “Yes, Andrea. I ran away from my aunts and
uncles. I hated their simple, peasant ways. That’s when Victoria
adopted me. We’re family anyway. My dad’s line goes back to the
Stowalls. He just had a different name.”
    Another Stowall? Was I the only one
here who wasn’t a Stowall?
    “So you’ve shared your worst secret.” Andrea
said. “So can we call you Liz again?”
    “No. I’ve changed my name legally, so it’s
done. Besides, Elixchel, if you say it properly, is beautiful. It’s
El- ish -el, Andrea. A soft shushing sound in the middle.” But
Andrea knew this. It was for my benefit that Elixchel sounded out
her name.
    The rain pummeled the windows as if crazy to
get in. I pressed my shoulders down as Hannah had instructed,
stretching my neck and back. The massages were long over. I was
cramping up again.
    Elixchel rose to put another log on, but
paused half-way to the fireplace, cocking her head toward the door.
I too heard female voices coming from the direction of the living
room, filtered and diminished by the angular hall. Victoria began
slowly pushing herself out of her chair, and left the room, with
Elixchel trailing close behind. The female voices grew louder. I
couldn’t make them out, but they were clearly filled with emotion
and struggle.
    Andrea began babbling, started teasing
Abigail, making no sense—at least to me. I realized she was
attempting to mask the noises in the hall. She was doing a good
job. Frustrated, I reached for my tea cup, tilting my head so I
could better hear.
    The teacup was empty. My bladder on the
other hand was full. And I still couldn’t hear over Andrea and
Abigail’s noise. So I stood and prepared to walk either to the food
table or better yet, the bathroom out in the hall, when a protest
reached my ears.
    “ I’m not sleepy! I didn’t do anything
wrong!” Several other voices were cooing and murmuring to
a…distraught child?
    “ I’ve had it with this crap!” Another
voice from the hall—this one angry. More clearly adult.
    The front door slammed, which made me turn
to look at the chill rain spattering the windows behind me like a
hundred spiccato violin bows bouncing on glass strings. What a
terrible night to be out.
    Finally Andrea got up and chased after the
sounds in the hall. Abigail followed her like a puppy. It must be
Victoria’s daughters, or some of them at least, perhaps another
foster child. I returned to my seat, new cup of tea in hand. If I
drank it I knew I’d drown in urine, but now I was uncomfortable
about leaving the room. Another shout erupted, a half child’s plea,
half adult’s demand.
    “ I want daddy. Where’s Jake?”
    Ruth peered at me around Gerry. The
miserable woman-child voice began sobbing. At least the other
voices were now mostly gentle, I thought. Soothing her fears,
distracting her hysteria.
    “Is one of you going to enlighten me?” I
finally asked.
    Gerry said, “It’s the Stowall girls. Martha
just left. She’s the one with the excessive voice and impatience to
match. Jake’s their father, of course. The youngest, Sarah, is the
hysterical one you hear.”
    Stowall girls. Sarah was the
youngest, Martha has a loud voice. More mental notes.
    While I was wondering how to ask if Sarah
was handicapped in some way, Victoria came back into the room, so I
kept my question to myself…thank God. One by one the others
returned and resumed their sewing as the cooing and sobbing voices
moved away.
    Minutes passed before Victoria said, “She’s
spending one night. She’s in the room by the kitchen, so please
don’t make a lot of noise down that end of the house.”
    “You shouldn’t be alone.” Ruth.
    They were back to an earlier discussion, one
I was not part of, of whether Victoria needed a helpmate.