Emiliano had forgotten about next week’s hike. He wishes he were out there now, under the stars where things are clear. He could use a few nights by himself to think things over.
Do you really need time to think? Haven’t you already made up your mind? You’ve already decided deep down. You know you’ll say yes to Mr. Reyes.
“All right,” Emiliano says, louder than he intended. “I’ll check with Brother Patricio. I’m sure it’s okay. We have a soccer game in a few hours.”
Sara and Emiliano are quiet for a few moments. Sara is looking at Emiliano’s desk. The three piñatas from Javier that he has yet to sell lie there with Doña Pepa’s purse. Emiliano tried to glue the square that Alfredo Reyes had cut out of the piñata back in place when he got home from the party, but the best he could do was tape it. He doubts that he’ll be able to sell it.
Sara picks up the purse. She touches the beads and then puts it back on the desk. Emiliano watches her face. How long has it been since he has seen Sara so sad?
“You going to tell me about the stuff at work or not?” he asks.
Sara doesn’t respond to him, or maybe she doesn’t hear. She reaches for Emiliano’s fake Bible and opens it. Finally, she smiles. “I still can’t believe Linda gave you this.”
“Best birthday present I’ve ever gotten. Well, second best. The knife she gave me was the best.”
“I was with her when she bought it,” Sara says, closing the Bible. “She knew it would be the perfect gift for you.” She places the book on her lap. “You had a crush on her, didn’t you?”
“Who didn’t? Me, Paco, Pepe. Every kid in the neighborhood except maybe Joel. For some reason he preferred you. That guy never was the sharpest pencil in the bunch.”
“Hey!” Another smile from Sara. That’s two. “So, you’re going to tell me what happened at the party?” she says.
“So, you’re going to tell me what happened at work?”
Sara lowers her head, thinks, and says softly, regretfully, “I can’t.”
“I can’t either,” Emiliano says.
“So something did happen?”
He shrugs.
Sara’s eyes focus on the shoe box. “Why did you decide to take out his letters tonight? I always thought you were throwing them away.” She looks at the sheet of paper with her father’s handwriting next to Emiliano. “I guess I was wrong.”
“I don’t know why I saved them. I thought maybe someday I’d open them … in case they had money.”
His sister grins the way she does when she doesn’t believe something he says. He doesn’t know why he saved the letters or filed them in the shoe box in the order they were received.
“What does he say?”
“He writes to you too, doesn’t he? What does he tell you?”
“He talks about his new business. His new family. Life in America. He really likes to work, like you. He asks about you, you know. He misses you. Wants to know when you’ll forgive him.”
“Is there something to forgive? You and Mami don’t seem to think so.”
Sara exhales. “I think Mami and me accepted that some relationships are not meant to be. That it doesn’t do any good to force parts that don’t fit together, or people who don’t fit together. But yes, we forgave him. It’s not good for anyone to live with anger.”
“Anger is good sometimes. It’s energy.” That’s what Mr. Esmeralda said.
Sara shakes her head. “There are better sources of energy. Like love, or wanting to do something with your life. Anger makes you sick. It makes you go after hurtful things, as if hurting yourself is a way to get revenge on the person who hurt you.”
Emiliano slides down on the bed and folds his hands on his chest. He stares at the peeling paint on the ceiling. He feels his anger most on the first days of the month, when the three of them sit at the kitchen table to pay the coming month’s bills. Every month is a mental struggle harder than a trigonometry problem, trying to figure out who gets paid and who can wait another month. Every month he has to dip into his motorcycle savings. In the meantime, his father is in Chicago, living in an air-conditioned home, supporting his American wife and blue-eyed baby. So what is there to forgive?
Sara is still sitting there. It’s nice to be with someone in silence. Linda liked to play a game with him that he always lost. They would stand in front of each other, stare into each other’s faces, and see who could last longer without making a sound. They could not move anything except their eyes. But Linda had the ability to cross hers, which always made him laugh.
Sara was right. He had a crush on Linda. But that crush was different from what he feels for Perla Rubi. There’s a hunger inside of him for Perla Rubi’s touch, for her whispered words, for the mischievous way she sometimes looks at him. With Linda there was humor and ease. With Perla Rubi there is an electric restlessness. Every time he thinks of her, he wants to hurry up and have more of the kinds of riches she has, so that he can be with her, in her world.
“Some good things came out of Papá leaving.” He opens his eyes when he hears Sara speak, but he doesn’t look at her. “You joined the Jiparis. You discovered the desert. You started your folk art business. You give us some of the support that used to come from him. You became a man in his absence.” She stands. “I better go and try to get an hour of sleep. Of all the nights not to be able to sleep! I need to have my mind working well tomorrow … later this morning. I have to.”
The way she says that scares Emiliano. Sara may not be powered by anger, but she always seems to have access to another constant, even deeper source of energy. Convictions, purpose, whatever it is, he wishes he had it. Except that, for the first time, Sara’s source seems to be depleted. What is happening to her?
“What time you going to work?” Emiliano asks.
“Early.”
“I’ll go with you.” Then he remembers that he can’t go with her. He has to take the car back to Armando’s.
“You don’t have to. It’s out of your way. I’ll be all right.”
“You got another threat, didn’t you?”
Sara shrugs. “It comes with the territory.”
“I’ll leave some money on the kitchen table so you can take a taxi. Don’t do anything stupid.”
“Me? Never. Good night, little brother. Be good.”
He watches her close the door.
Be good. What is good? Isn’t helping his family a good thing? If he accepts Mr. Reyes’s offer, he’ll make Sara’s and his mother’s lives easier. He’ll buy Joel Cardenas’s motorcycle and get a sidecar so Sara won’t have to walk through dark streets or wait for buses in dangerous places. He’ll buy his mother a commercial stove so she can bake at home. He and Perla Rubi can be long-term. There are little goods and bigger goods. A person needs to choose. He will choose what is good for his family, for everyone. He will do what his father promised to do. Whatever it takes.
He places the letters back in the shoe box, no longer worried about the order.
“God, help me today to do all that you would have me do.”