branded. I thought I’d start to cry.
No, I said, I miss Jorge.
When we first got married Jorge was at home all the time but then he went to his mom’s place in Chihuahua city one weekend to visit and he met some guys who offered him real money. All he’d have to do was store their boxes of hierba in our grain shed because we lived in the middle of nowhere but only a few hours from the border and it was all perfect, and Jorge said sure, that sounded good, all he’d be doing was storing it, and he had held my hands and told me it would be a great opportunity for us, that it might help us to make enough money to leave the campo so he wouldn’t have to work for nothing for my father anymore and he’d take care of me and we’d have babies and move away from here and get that boat we’d been talking about. And then he started bringing stuff back to our place.
I think Diego might want to sleep with me, she said.
What? I said. Why do you think that? You don’t even know what he’s saying.
I don’t have to know what he’s saying, she said.
Well, I said. I wouldn’t if I were you.
Why not? she said. What if I’m feeling lost and lonely?
Are you? I said.
Of course I am, Irma! she said. Look around. Can I talk to anybody but you? Do I have my husband and son here with me? Do I have friends? Do I know what I’m doing? Do I understand this story? Do I have anything to do but lie around and try to remember not to look directly at the thing that’s always looking at me?
No, I said. I guess not.
I’m trying not to let my anger bubble to the surface and infect my mood, she said. Have you ever stompeddown on a ceramic tile on your kitchen floor? It keeps popping up. I’m not going to sleep with him, don’t worry.
I’m not worried, I said.
My anger, I said to myself. I liked the sound of that. I needed something of my own, something I could keep. My anger. I’d embroider these words into my underwear. I felt like Frankenstein. I punched myself in the forehead. My mother thought I was retarded when I was a baby because I’d bite myself and pull my own hair. Well, whose hair was I supposed to pull? I’d ask her.
Marijke lit a cigarette and started humming.
Well, the tile just needs to be glued down, I said.
Hey, she said, do you mind asking Diego if it’s possible to get more leafy vegetables around here? I was looking at the whites of my eyes this morning and I think I’m developing anemia.
I turned around and looked deeply into the whites of her eyes and tried to detect a problem.
Then she told me she’d like to meet my family and I told her why that was pretty much impossible and then just at that moment as though we’d conjured her up like a dream Aggie was standing next to us with a suitcase and there we were, three Mennonite girls in an empty field, one bare-chested, one bewildered and one on the run.
Diego and the crew came roaring back into the yard in two trucks and Elias and Oveja ran over to us and Elias said we had to go shoot right then, immediately. Because the light, he said. And we had to bring Oveja with us for some reasonI couldn’t quite understand. Either because we would need protection or because he, Oveja, needed protection.
What did you say? said Aggie.
Who is this? said Elias. He smiled and kissed Aggie on the cheek.
Aggie, I said. My sister. This is Elias. He’s a cameraman. This is Marijke.
Did you come from the airport? said Elias. He pointed at her suitcase.
No. Just from over there, said Aggie. She pointed at her house.
Come with us, said Marijke. She put her T-shirt back on and grabbed Aggie’s suitcase. It’ll be fun.
No, I said, she has to go back.
No, I don’t, said Aggie.
Yeah, you do, I said.
Well, I’m not, she said.
Agatha, I said.
Irma, she said.
We rode in the back of the truck this time while Diego drove and had a money talk with one of the film’s producers, José. We could see their arms flying around in the cab while they talked. Elias
No, I said, I miss Jorge.
When we first got married Jorge was at home all the time but then he went to his mom’s place in Chihuahua city one weekend to visit and he met some guys who offered him real money. All he’d have to do was store their boxes of hierba in our grain shed because we lived in the middle of nowhere but only a few hours from the border and it was all perfect, and Jorge said sure, that sounded good, all he’d be doing was storing it, and he had held my hands and told me it would be a great opportunity for us, that it might help us to make enough money to leave the campo so he wouldn’t have to work for nothing for my father anymore and he’d take care of me and we’d have babies and move away from here and get that boat we’d been talking about. And then he started bringing stuff back to our place.
I think Diego might want to sleep with me, she said.
What? I said. Why do you think that? You don’t even know what he’s saying.
I don’t have to know what he’s saying, she said.
Well, I said. I wouldn’t if I were you.
Why not? she said. What if I’m feeling lost and lonely?
Are you? I said.
Of course I am, Irma! she said. Look around. Can I talk to anybody but you? Do I have my husband and son here with me? Do I have friends? Do I know what I’m doing? Do I understand this story? Do I have anything to do but lie around and try to remember not to look directly at the thing that’s always looking at me?
No, I said. I guess not.
I’m trying not to let my anger bubble to the surface and infect my mood, she said. Have you ever stompeddown on a ceramic tile on your kitchen floor? It keeps popping up. I’m not going to sleep with him, don’t worry.
I’m not worried, I said.
My anger, I said to myself. I liked the sound of that. I needed something of my own, something I could keep. My anger. I’d embroider these words into my underwear. I felt like Frankenstein. I punched myself in the forehead. My mother thought I was retarded when I was a baby because I’d bite myself and pull my own hair. Well, whose hair was I supposed to pull? I’d ask her.
Marijke lit a cigarette and started humming.
Well, the tile just needs to be glued down, I said.
Hey, she said, do you mind asking Diego if it’s possible to get more leafy vegetables around here? I was looking at the whites of my eyes this morning and I think I’m developing anemia.
I turned around and looked deeply into the whites of her eyes and tried to detect a problem.
Then she told me she’d like to meet my family and I told her why that was pretty much impossible and then just at that moment as though we’d conjured her up like a dream Aggie was standing next to us with a suitcase and there we were, three Mennonite girls in an empty field, one bare-chested, one bewildered and one on the run.
Diego and the crew came roaring back into the yard in two trucks and Elias and Oveja ran over to us and Elias said we had to go shoot right then, immediately. Because the light, he said. And we had to bring Oveja with us for some reasonI couldn’t quite understand. Either because we would need protection or because he, Oveja, needed protection.
What did you say? said Aggie.
Who is this? said Elias. He smiled and kissed Aggie on the cheek.
Aggie, I said. My sister. This is Elias. He’s a cameraman. This is Marijke.
Did you come from the airport? said Elias. He pointed at her suitcase.
No. Just from over there, said Aggie. She pointed at her house.
Come with us, said Marijke. She put her T-shirt back on and grabbed Aggie’s suitcase. It’ll be fun.
No, I said, she has to go back.
No, I don’t, said Aggie.
Yeah, you do, I said.
Well, I’m not, she said.
Agatha, I said.
Irma, she said.
We rode in the back of the truck this time while Diego drove and had a money talk with one of the film’s producers, José. We could see their arms flying around in the cab while they talked. Elias
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