“Because I didn’t want them to overhear what I am going to say to you.” Mrs. Rosario returned to her place at the table, forcing herself to sit erect because she knew the disastrous effects which a show of weakness on her part sometimes had on her daughter. “The man who was with you — where is he?”
“He had some business to look after, but he’ll be back.”
“Here?”
“Why not here?”
“You mustn’t let him in. He’s a bad man. He lies. Even about his name, which is not Foster but Fielding.”
Juanita masked her annoyance with a shrug. “I don’t care. What difference does it...”
“Did you tell him anything?”
“Sure. I told him my feet hurt, and he said take off your shoes. So I took...”
“There is no time for insolence.” The strain of holding herself erect had weakened Mrs. Rosario’s voice to a whisper, but even her whisper had a sting in it.
Juanita felt the sting and resented it. She was afraid of this old woman who could invoke saints and devils against her, and her fear was compounded by her knowledge that she had talked too much and too loosely to Fielding. “I never told him a thing, so help me God.”
“Did he ask you any questions about your Uncle Carlos?”
“No.”
“Or about Paul?”
“No.”
“Juanita, listen to me — I must have the truth this time.”
“I swear by Mary.”
“What do you swear?”
Juanita’s face was expressionless. “Whatever you want me to.”
“Juanita, are you frightened of me? Are you afraid to tell the truth? I smell drink on your breath. Maybe the drink has made you forget what you said, eh?”
“I never said a word.”
“Nothing about Paul or Carlos?”
“I swear by Mary.”
Mrs. Rosario’s lips moved silently as she bowed her head and crossed herself. The familiar gesture loosened angry memories in Juanita’s mind, and they came crashing down like an avalanche of gravel, covering her fear with dust and noise.
“Do you call me a liar, you old witch?” she shouted.
“Shhhh. You must keep your voice down. Someone might...”
“I don’t care. I got nothing to hide. That’s more than you can say.”
“Please. We must have a quiet talk, we...”
“For all your moaning and groaning to God Almighty, you’re no better than the rest of us, are you?”
“No. I am no better than the rest of you.”
Juanita’s loud, harsh laughter filled the little room. “Well, that’s the first thing you ever admitted in your whole damn life.”
“You must be quiet a minute and listen to me,” Mrs. Rosario said. “Sit down here beside me.”
“I can listen standing up.”
“Mr. Harker was here half an hour ago.”
Juanita had a vague memory of Fielding mentioning the name to her. It had meant nothing to her then and meant nothing now. “What’s that got to do with me?”
“Mr. Harker is Paul’s father.”
“Are you crazy? I never even heard of a guy called Harker.”
“You are hearing now. He is Paul’s father.”
“By God, what are you trying to do? Prove I’m so spooky I can’t even remember my own kid’s father? You want me to get locked up so’s you can keep the money from the trust fund for yourself?”
“There never was a trust fund,” Mrs. Rosario said quietly. “Carlos was a poor man.”
“Why did you lie to me?”
“It was necessary. If you told anyone about Mr. Harker, the money would stop.”
“How could I tell anyone about Harker when I don’t even know him?” Juanita pounded the table with her fist, and the salt-shaker gave a little jump, fell over on its side, and began spilling, as if it had been shot.
Hurriedly Mrs. Rosario picked up a pinch of the salt and put it under her tongue to ward off the bad luck that plagued a house where there was waste. “Please, there must be no violence.”
“Then answer me.”
“Mr. Harker has been supporting Paul because he is Paul’s father.”
“He’s not.”
“You are to say so, whether you remember or not.”
“I won’t. It’s not true.”
Mrs. Rosario’s voice was rising in pitch as if it were competing with Juanita’s. “You are to do as I tell you, without arguing.”
“You think I can’t even remember Paul’s father? He was in the Air Force, he went to Korea. I wrote to him. We were going to get married when he got out.”
“No, no! You must listen to me. Mr. Harker...”
“I never even heard of a guy called Harker. Never in my life, do you hear me?”
“Shhhh!” Mrs. Rosario’s face had turned gray, and her eyes, darkened by fear, were fixed on the back door. “There’s someone out on the porch,” she said in an urgent whisper. “Quick, lock the door, close the window.”
“I got nothing to hide. Why should I?”
“Oh God, will you never listen to your mother? Will you never know how much I’ve endured for you, how much I’ve loved you?”
She reached out to touch Juanita’s hand with her own, but Juanita stepped back with a sound of contempt and disbelief, and went to the door.
She opened it. A man was standing on the threshold, and behind him, at the bottom of the porch steps, a woman, faceless in the shadows.
The man, a stranger to Juanita, was politely apologetic. “I knocked on the front door, and when I didn’t get any answer, I came around to the back.”
“Well?”
“My name is Steve Pinata. If you don’t mind, I’d like to...”
“I don’t know you.”
“Your mother does.”
“He’s a detective,” Mrs. Rosario said dully. “Tell him nothing.”
“I’ve brought Mrs. Harker with me, Mrs. Rosario. She wants to talk to you about something that’s of great importance to her. May we come inside?”
“Go away. I can’t talk to anyone. I’m sick.”
Pinata knew from her color and her labored breathing that she was telling the truth. “You’d better let me call a doctor, Mrs. Rosario.”
“No. Just leave me alone. My daughter and I were having... a little argument. It is no business of yours.”
“From what I overheard, it’s Mrs. Harker’s business.”
“Let her talk to her husband about it. Not me. I can say nothing.”
“Then I’m afraid I’ll have to ask Juanita.”
“No, no! Juanita is innocent. She knows nothing.”
Using the table as support, Mrs. Rosario tried to push herself to her feet, but she fell back into the chair with a sigh of exhaustion. Pinata crossed the room and took her by the arm. “Let me help you.”
“No.”
“You’d better lie down quietly while I call a doctor.”
“No. A priest — Father Salvadore...”
“All right, a priest. Mrs. Harker and I will help you to your bedroom, and I’ll send for Father Salvadore.” He motioned to Daisy to come into the house, and she started up the porch steps.
Up to this point Juanita had been standing, blank-faced, beside the open door, as if what was happening was of no concern or interest to her. It was only when Daisy reached the periphery of light that Juanita let out a gasp of recognition.
She began screaming at her mother in Spanish. “It’s the woman I used to see at the Clinic. She’s come to take me away. Don’t let her. I promise to be good. I promise to buy you a new crucifix, and go to Mass and confession, and never break things anymore. Don’t let her take me away!”
“Be quiet,” Pinata said. “Mrs. Harker’s had no connection with the Clinic for years. Now listen to me. Your mother’s very ill. She belongs in a hospital. I want you to help Mrs. Harker look after her while I call an ambulance.”