than a Filipino guy. Lot of Filipino guys, they are a little mean. He really cares what I am thinking. In my mind.”
But Bong Bong, her cousin, he is not mean.
The next morning, she folded into her red Toyota. She drives one hour and a half every day to be dental hygienist.
I cleaned, first the bathroom, then the kitchen, then I washed myself. By the time the guy woke up, I was raking gray dust that was their front lawn. The ones working there were Spanish, but with their hands they showed me how to work the cages. There was old dirt, because the animals.
“Sit down,” the husband said. “Let’s see if you’ll eat a Denver omelet.”
Now, I can make that. With the heat there, a smell rises—baked dirt, bird poo, and eucalyptus. But in the evening, your arms feel good. We sat on chairs made of aluminum tubes and woven plastic. Made in the Philippines.
So many stars, it seems you are inside that sky.
The guy brought out the magazine where he first saw Luz. Each page showed rows of pictures. Our relative wore a school uniform with a small gold cross.
Then the guy carried out a square box of ice cream; he served it ruffled in bowls. Luz opened a tied folder of his letters. In the first one, he had written I’m not any girl’s idea of a prince . He provided a typed sheet of his stocks and bonds and a copy of the deed for the property. He wrote in small, neat numbers what whoever became his wife could afford.
Did he include a picture, I wondered. Who ever sent any but the best picture? Still, our relative is thirty-seven now and prettier than she was in the catalog. Her face became thin. And her clothes look nice, because she is a professional woman.
But I had to find a job. I told them, just a few more days and then I will go south.
The guy had to deliver snakes to the San Jose Zoo, so he drove me to the train station. I called the number on the flyer before but when I arrive, there is nobody. I shouted into the pay telephone. “I am here! Yes! In Bakersfield!” They told me to take a taxi. It is an agency, I thought. The crippled guy had given me a bag of oranges, almonds, dates, and bills of American money that now I used.
The address from the flyer belongs to a pink one-story hotel with a chain-link fence all around. The taxi driver set my suitcase on the pavement. Another taxi waited, with a tatay and two daughters from Iloilo, trying to pay their driver in pesos. I gave him the rest my bills. They came to find work too, they said, and the people running this place were distant relatives that they had never met.
Inside, the ones who made the flyer looked at us, then at each other and giggled. The old lady said, since we are all here, they will go out to the movies! We can stay and give the patients their food! And we do not know anything! We have only been there fifteen minutes. The tatay does not understand English or Tagalog.
None of the retardeds has a mouth that is right. When the ones who made the flyer left, the retardeds cried. They pulled at us, whimpering.
“What? What is it you want?” The young from Iloilo shouted, every time louder.
Eight retardeds and only four of us. The ones who made the flyer left out cans of soup and packages of frozen hot dogs. And the way the retardeds ate! No one is teaching them. They are each different, one a mongoloid. Only all abnormal. Finally, I discovered by accident what will work. I snapped the TV and they all sat, weak as if it had power on them. We could clean up then; there was food over everything. When we finished they were still watching, tigers in a net, with their hands on their privates. The young from Iloilo went and placed the hands in the pockets. The elder shrieked. “I should do that! She is not yet married.”
“They are asleep,” the young said. “Anyway, I finished medicine already.”
“So you are doctor?”
“Yes, Lola.” Like my Issa will be, I thought. That is how I met Lucy.
The retardeds have dreams. They cry out,
But Bong Bong, her cousin, he is not mean.
The next morning, she folded into her red Toyota. She drives one hour and a half every day to be dental hygienist.
I cleaned, first the bathroom, then the kitchen, then I washed myself. By the time the guy woke up, I was raking gray dust that was their front lawn. The ones working there were Spanish, but with their hands they showed me how to work the cages. There was old dirt, because the animals.
“Sit down,” the husband said. “Let’s see if you’ll eat a Denver omelet.”
Now, I can make that. With the heat there, a smell rises—baked dirt, bird poo, and eucalyptus. But in the evening, your arms feel good. We sat on chairs made of aluminum tubes and woven plastic. Made in the Philippines.
So many stars, it seems you are inside that sky.
The guy brought out the magazine where he first saw Luz. Each page showed rows of pictures. Our relative wore a school uniform with a small gold cross.
Then the guy carried out a square box of ice cream; he served it ruffled in bowls. Luz opened a tied folder of his letters. In the first one, he had written I’m not any girl’s idea of a prince . He provided a typed sheet of his stocks and bonds and a copy of the deed for the property. He wrote in small, neat numbers what whoever became his wife could afford.
Did he include a picture, I wondered. Who ever sent any but the best picture? Still, our relative is thirty-seven now and prettier than she was in the catalog. Her face became thin. And her clothes look nice, because she is a professional woman.
But I had to find a job. I told them, just a few more days and then I will go south.
The guy had to deliver snakes to the San Jose Zoo, so he drove me to the train station. I called the number on the flyer before but when I arrive, there is nobody. I shouted into the pay telephone. “I am here! Yes! In Bakersfield!” They told me to take a taxi. It is an agency, I thought. The crippled guy had given me a bag of oranges, almonds, dates, and bills of American money that now I used.
The address from the flyer belongs to a pink one-story hotel with a chain-link fence all around. The taxi driver set my suitcase on the pavement. Another taxi waited, with a tatay and two daughters from Iloilo, trying to pay their driver in pesos. I gave him the rest my bills. They came to find work too, they said, and the people running this place were distant relatives that they had never met.
Inside, the ones who made the flyer looked at us, then at each other and giggled. The old lady said, since we are all here, they will go out to the movies! We can stay and give the patients their food! And we do not know anything! We have only been there fifteen minutes. The tatay does not understand English or Tagalog.
None of the retardeds has a mouth that is right. When the ones who made the flyer left, the retardeds cried. They pulled at us, whimpering.
“What? What is it you want?” The young from Iloilo shouted, every time louder.
Eight retardeds and only four of us. The ones who made the flyer left out cans of soup and packages of frozen hot dogs. And the way the retardeds ate! No one is teaching them. They are each different, one a mongoloid. Only all abnormal. Finally, I discovered by accident what will work. I snapped the TV and they all sat, weak as if it had power on them. We could clean up then; there was food over everything. When we finished they were still watching, tigers in a net, with their hands on their privates. The young from Iloilo went and placed the hands in the pockets. The elder shrieked. “I should do that! She is not yet married.”
“They are asleep,” the young said. “Anyway, I finished medicine already.”
“So you are doctor?”
“Yes, Lola.” Like my Issa will be, I thought. That is how I met Lucy.
The retardeds have dreams. They cry out,
Similar Books
