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Authors: Ann Cameron
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her.
My grandmother’s house is big, but it’s pretty crowded, because my three unmarried uncles, and sometimes some of my five married aunts and their kids, live with us too. Sometimes even my grandmother’s cousins’ kids have lived with us for awhile. In fact, if anybody in the family loses a job, or gets sick, or can’t get along with a husband, or has some kind of trouble, they come to live with my grandmother. She takes care of everybody, until they can take care of themselves again. Sometimes, though, you can tell she wishes they would get around to taking care of themselves sooner than they do.
My grandmother earns her living selling
arroz con leche
—rice with milk—in the big market where everyone goes to buy food every day.
Arroz con leche
is like rice pudding, except you don’t eat it with a spoon, you drink it hot in a glass. It’s sweet, and it has lots of cinnamon in it, and my grandmother makes it better than anybody in town. She gets up at five in the morning every day to start making it.That’s what she’s done, almost every day of her life, since she was thirteen years old.
After my mom and I moved back to my grandmother’s, I’d wake up in the morning in bed with my mother and hear the sounds of everybody getting up—Uncle Miguel muttering, “Where’s my shoe, my shoe, my shoe?” and my aunt Maria whispering to her son Carlitos, “You
didn’t
wet the bed again, did you?” and Angelica, my aunt Tina’s fat little daughter, crying because she doesn’t want to take a shower; and I’d smell the wood of the cooking fire, and the
arroz con leche
steaming in a big, smoke-blackened pot, and the breakfast tortillas toasting; and then my mother and I would take our towel and get our turn in the shower. My grandmother has running water in her house,which most people don’t. She says she needs it for the
arroz con leche
business. But she doesn’t have electricity, or hot water in the shower. She says electricity and hot water and things like that are expensive, and not very important.
So my mom and I lived in my grandmother’s house, and my mom earned some money cleaning houses and washing people’s clothes in the big washtub in back of the house; and at night she’d take me out to walk around town, and we’d meet all her friends and talk to them, and it was fun.
One night when we were out like that, a man came up to my mother with a big smile on his face. He said, “What a good-looking boy you have! He certainly resembles you!” And then he bought me apiece of candy, and talked to my mother some more.
Pretty soon every night that we went out, we’d see him, and he’d walk with us. Then one night he invited my mom to a dance. After the night of the dance, she started leaving me home when she went out. I guess she wanted to see him alone.
All of a sudden one day, she told me she was going to get married again to that man we met on the street. She was going to go live with him. But I couldn’t go with her. He didn’t want me. He wanted to start his own family. He wanted his own children. He didn’t have the money for me.
And that same day, my mother moved out of my grandmother’s house and moved in with my stepfather. He had a house,but just one room. And he didn’t have a bed, so he and my mom came up to my grandmother’s house, and he and my mother carried out the bed she and I had been sleeping in and took it down to his house. My grandmother wasn’t home when they came for the bed, or maybe she wouldn’t have let them take it.
When they were carrying the bed, I followed them out to the road, but my mother said, “You stay here, Juan,” so I went back to the house.
Once they were gone, I didn’t know what to do, so I just hung around all day until my grandmother came home, and went up to her and pulled her into the room where our bed used to be.
My grandmother frowned. “So now you have no bed!” she said. I started to cry. It’s bad enough not having a
My grandmother’s house is big, but it’s pretty crowded, because my three unmarried uncles, and sometimes some of my five married aunts and their kids, live with us too. Sometimes even my grandmother’s cousins’ kids have lived with us for awhile. In fact, if anybody in the family loses a job, or gets sick, or can’t get along with a husband, or has some kind of trouble, they come to live with my grandmother. She takes care of everybody, until they can take care of themselves again. Sometimes, though, you can tell she wishes they would get around to taking care of themselves sooner than they do.
My grandmother earns her living selling
arroz con leche
—rice with milk—in the big market where everyone goes to buy food every day.
Arroz con leche
is like rice pudding, except you don’t eat it with a spoon, you drink it hot in a glass. It’s sweet, and it has lots of cinnamon in it, and my grandmother makes it better than anybody in town. She gets up at five in the morning every day to start making it.That’s what she’s done, almost every day of her life, since she was thirteen years old.
After my mom and I moved back to my grandmother’s, I’d wake up in the morning in bed with my mother and hear the sounds of everybody getting up—Uncle Miguel muttering, “Where’s my shoe, my shoe, my shoe?” and my aunt Maria whispering to her son Carlitos, “You
didn’t
wet the bed again, did you?” and Angelica, my aunt Tina’s fat little daughter, crying because she doesn’t want to take a shower; and I’d smell the wood of the cooking fire, and the
arroz con leche
steaming in a big, smoke-blackened pot, and the breakfast tortillas toasting; and then my mother and I would take our towel and get our turn in the shower. My grandmother has running water in her house,which most people don’t. She says she needs it for the
arroz con leche
business. But she doesn’t have electricity, or hot water in the shower. She says electricity and hot water and things like that are expensive, and not very important.
So my mom and I lived in my grandmother’s house, and my mom earned some money cleaning houses and washing people’s clothes in the big washtub in back of the house; and at night she’d take me out to walk around town, and we’d meet all her friends and talk to them, and it was fun.
One night when we were out like that, a man came up to my mother with a big smile on his face. He said, “What a good-looking boy you have! He certainly resembles you!” And then he bought me apiece of candy, and talked to my mother some more.
Pretty soon every night that we went out, we’d see him, and he’d walk with us. Then one night he invited my mom to a dance. After the night of the dance, she started leaving me home when she went out. I guess she wanted to see him alone.
All of a sudden one day, she told me she was going to get married again to that man we met on the street. She was going to go live with him. But I couldn’t go with her. He didn’t want me. He wanted to start his own family. He wanted his own children. He didn’t have the money for me.
And that same day, my mother moved out of my grandmother’s house and moved in with my stepfather. He had a house,but just one room. And he didn’t have a bed, so he and my mom came up to my grandmother’s house, and he and my mother carried out the bed she and I had been sleeping in and took it down to his house. My grandmother wasn’t home when they came for the bed, or maybe she wouldn’t have let them take it.
When they were carrying the bed, I followed them out to the road, but my mother said, “You stay here, Juan,” so I went back to the house.
Once they were gone, I didn’t know what to do, so I just hung around all day until my grandmother came home, and went up to her and pulled her into the room where our bed used to be.
My grandmother frowned. “So now you have no bed!” she said. I started to cry. It’s bad enough not having a
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