Read Online Signal to Noise by Silvia Moreno-Garcia - Free Book Online

you getting sick, Meche?”
    She shook her head.
    “Okay.”
    Grandmother was quiet. She didn’t push or ask questions. But her silences pulled the truth out of you anyway, made you speak despite the desire to remain silent. So Meche spoke, her hands sliding against the cool glass.
    “Mama Dolores, what did you mean when you said magic will break your heart?”
    “You’re still going on about that?” she asked, placing a bunch of tortillas wrapped in a warm cloth by Meche’s plate.
    Meche peeled open the wrapping and pulled out a tortilla, dipping it in the broth.
    “Maybe.”
    “Magic gets you what you want, but it doesn’t solve your problems.”
    “That doesn’t make any sense.”
    “It does,” Mama Dolores pulled out a chair, sitting next to Meche. “There was a man in my town who wanted to get married but he could not find himself a bride. He went to a witch and asked her for a charm. Something that would get him a wife.”
    “Did it work?”
    “It did. He was married within a month’s time.”
    “Then it did solve his problems.”
    Mama Dolores cut a lemon in half and carefully sprinkled a bit of sugar on it.
    “No. Because one year later she ran away with another man.”
    “That’s a bad story.”
    “Blame the magic, not the story.”
    Mama Dolores bit into her lemon.
    “But you also told me witches fly through the night, they turn into animals, they put curses on you—”
    “True. They do all that.”
    “But then?”
    “Nothing, that. But a man may turn into a coyote as many times as he wants and may steal chickens from the farm, but the chickens won’t be his and they will still be stolen. And the coyote will still be nothing but a large, ugly dog.”
    Meche sighed, staring into the contents of her bowl of soup. She didn’t understand what her grandmother meant.
    “If I was a witch—”
    “Ugh, it’s pouring outside. You could not believe the rain,” Meche’s mother said, shaking her umbrella out as she entered.
    Even soaked and with her mascara running, she looked very beautiful. Meche’s mother had once held aspirations to become an actress, make it big in the movies or maybe a soap. Natalia certainly had the looks. She only lacked the talent. She had given up on her dreams several years before and had gone to work at a department store. Now it was the pharmacy, where she worked as a cashier and part-time model: her photos adorned some of the flyers advertising the pharmacy. This was not as much an achievement as a form of charity because the owner of the pharmacy, Don Fernando, was Natalia’s godfather.
    “What did you make?” Natalia asked.
    “Chicken soup,” Meche’s grandmother said.
    “Did you take off the skin from my piece of chicken? You know I can’t eat chicken with the skin on.”
    “Yes, yes.”
    “I don’t want a lot of rice in my bowl. No potatoes either.”
    “You have to have one potato.”
    “It’s too starchy. Is it warm? I have to go back to the drugstore for the rest of my shift. Leona is sick again this week.”
    Natalia sat across from Meche. Meche looked at her mother, waiting for her to say something to her. Eventually, possibly because Meche just kept staring at her, Natalia spoke.
    “How was school?”
    “Alright.”
    “Do you have a lot of homework?”
    “Some.”
    There was a systematic indifference to Natalia’s voice. It was a chore doing this, playing the mother-daughter bond. Meche saw her fret in discomfort. Normally she would have simply stepped away, back to her room, and let her mother eat in peace. She did not feel charitable that evening, so she stayed put.
    “I saw you walking with that boy yesterday.”
    “Sebastian?”
    “Yes.”
    Meche did not remember if they had gone by the drugstore. Possibly. Their path had zigzagged through the whole neighbourhood as they chased stars which could not be seen in the night sky, hearts filled with promise. A promise which now lay squashed beneath the soles of their feet.
    “You