“When I first came here I thought all those jaguars on the facades were eating mangoes,” Barbara confided to Lilly. “Finally someone told me, ‘Barbara! That is a sacrificed human heart!’”
The day Danny was to return home, Eduardo came to her and said, “I must leave for at least a month. I must make money for a”—he paused—“unanticipated expense.” He took off his hat and regarded it sullenly. “I must dig for a swimming pool for a whole month. It must all be done by hand, no dynamite.”
“My husband will be disappointed,” Lilly said. “Could you tell us what the problem is? Perhaps we could help.”
“I cannot tell you.”
She wanted to be more approving of Eduardo, who did a great deal for them. In general she did not like people much. It was said that there were certain trees that didn’t like people. The ash? Perhaps she had once been such a tree, a solitary ash. The prednisone made for jumpy thoughts. The fact was, she failed to make connections with people. She liked children before they became closed and canny. She scratched her arm absentmindedly and droplets of blood sprang out as if by magic. Her skin was thin as paper.
“I will miss Stephanie’s visits,” she said, “I’ve missed seeing her.”
Eduardo winced. “It is about Stephanie.”
“Is she all right?” she asked sharply. “You must tell me. Is the earache worse?”
He said that Stephanie had flushed a live kitten down the toilet and he had no money to pay the plumber.
“You haven’t the money to pay a plumber?” Lilly said, bewildered. She rubbed the blood into her arm. Gently, without looking at it, she smeared it into her skin.
Stephanie was playing with the kitten and the kitten nipped her or perhaps it was that the kitten took food from her plate and she was angry and wanted to punish it. “Of course there is no excuse for such a thing,” Eduardo said. “She should not have done it. A very ugly thing to do. She does not have an earache, she is being punished. I wanted to spare your feelings. I know you are charmed by Stephanie. You do not want to know this.”
“I must speak to her, Eduardo. You must bring her here and let me talk to her right away. Does she know this is wrong?”
“She says she is sorry,” he said dismissively.
“She is so gentle,” Lilly protested, “so respectful of everything, the books, the flowers. She fills Amiga’s water dish. I find it difficult to believe she would do such harm.”
“I knew you would not believe it,” Eduardo said.
“I must see her. I will pay for the plumber. You must return as usual next week, every day, with Stephanie.”
“I’m not asking for money. Sometimes you misunderstand me. But I must work digging a swimming pool for a month so that I can pay the plumber.” He spoke stubbornly, as though spellbound.
“I will give you the money you need now. Please pay attention to what I am saying.”
He nodded. “You’re bleeding,” he said.
Stephanie ran to Lilly and hugged her legs.
“Hello, dear,” Lilly said, “my little dear.”
The child giggled and clutched her. “I want to read, I want to color, I want to make those little cupcakes with the coconut.”
“Stephanie, we must … Listen to me,” Lilly said. “I want to ask you something.”
“Sí,” Stephanie said solemnly.
“The dress I gave you, why do you never wear it?” How shameful of me, Lilly thought, but I don’t know how to begin. I am proceeding but I don’t know how to begin. The child is slipping into the dark and no one knows, that dreadful Eduardo certainly doesn’t know. He is concerned only with the cost to him! she thought with disgust. The cost of a plumber! While this child was slipping unconscious into the dark.
“My mama gave it to my sister. She said it was too big for me.”
“And do you think it is too big?” Lilly said quietly, purposelessly.
“I’m sorry that the dress is not mine,” Stephanie said.
“Do you know what it means to be sorry?” Lilly said in the same lazy, idle tone.
Stephanie patted Lilly’s hands with her own small ones. “Could we color? Do you still have the crayons?”
“Do you want to draw?”
“No, color. There is a book you let me color in.” She looked at Lilly worriedly. “Have you forgotten?”
They kept Stephanie’s books and playthings in a bureau with a locking drawer. The key was on a ribbon on top of the bureau. The child liked the ceremony of unlocking the drawer. She liked the embroidered corners of the napkins they put on a pewter tray when they had lemonade.
“I have my own hamaca now,” Stephanie said. “I do not have to sleep with my sister.”
Danny walked past and smiled at them.
“What else has happened at your house?” Lilly asked. “You know I have not seen you for a long while. Have you been sick?”
“I am strong,” Stephanie said, placing the books on a table and arranging the crayons in a pleasing fan shape. “I am never sick. Sometimes Mama is.” She turned the pages of the coloring book. “That one is smudged,” she said critically. “That was when I was a baby.”
“Not so many weeks ago,” Lilly said. “Why don’t you color this page?”
“Gatito,” Stephanie said. “The kitten.”
She set to work while Lilly watched her raptly. She was learning ignorance, Lilly marveled. She had begun to be false, false to herself and others. Lilly would not allow this, she would not. This was the child of whom Barbara had said, “Why, she thinks you hung the moon!” She had a responsibility to this child.
“Is that your kitten?” Lilly asked.
“Sí.” Stephanie was humming to herself. “He is black. He has white ears. He likes cupcakes.” She selected another crayon. “I don’t know. I don’t really have a kitten. I have a hamaca.”
“Stephanie,” Lilly said. She grasped the child’s hands and held them fast. She felt them softly crumpling in her own. “You must not pretend this did not happen.”
Night. It was nothing if not reliable. Again, a single massed figure. A threat made material, followed by the ritual of crying out, the lamp rocking on the table as she fumbled for the switch, the little dog Amiga limping away, fearing her …
Instead, Lilly only gripped the sheets and, turning, pressed her face against the wall. Her eyes were wet. If it wasn’t a dream, she reasoned, she wouldn’t even feel it.
It was time for a drink in the garden. She didn’t drink wine because the sulfites were considered to be bad for her condition. She had a tequila over ice. She nibbled an almond. Eduardo sat comfortably with them, drinking from a bottle of Squirt.
“We’re celebrating,” Danny said. “Eduardo has bought a car — a VW one year younger than Eduardo.”
“It is the first car in my family,” Eduardo said gravely, without looking at Lilly. “No one in my family has ever had a car.”
“We looked at eight before Eduardo decided,” Danny said.
“You did all the paperwork,” Eduardo said. “It was difficult paperwork.”
“But it was you who made such a good down payment with your savings.” Danny said to Lilly, “I told him we’d help him out with the rest.”
“I will be working harder but that is only right,” Eduardo said submissively.
“I can hardly see you working any harder than you do,” Danny said.
“My first errand in my beautiful car was to take Stephanie home. We stopped for ice cream.”
“She was terribly upset about something yesterday,” Danny said. “What was that all about?”