A Bridge of Words

Tonight I’m almost asleep when the scratching sounds stop. My heart races. I get out of bed and walk to Frank’s doorway. His elbow bent, his head rests on one hand, the knife in the other. He seems to be studying his work, which now includes a bridge of letters the length of his bed.

He lies back flat on his mattress and looks my way. For a moment we stay like that, our eyes locked, but saying nothing. Then he turns toward the wall and begins to scrape again.

The Blue Fabric

Auntie Bernadette calls me to her house. “I have something for you to see,” she says. The phone clicks before I can ask what it is she wants to show me.

Auntie Bernadette’s front door is open and I can tell from the unfamiliar black car parked in her driveway that a customer must be in the back with her. In the background, I hear the soft music she plays to relax her customers.

Uncle Fernando is sleeping on the couch in the living room. The room smells like him—sour milk and the green onions he chews on. I ease into the chair next to him and stare at the cartoons. I tap my foot to the clock’s ticking. I turn off the TV with the remote. Uncle Fernando stirs, so I flick Scooby-Doo back on. I don’t want to listen to him whine about his aches and pains.

Why did Auntie call for me when she had a customer? Does she want to teach me more of the healing ways? She makes my blood boil, even though I know all I’d be doing is sitting in the cabana.

I get up and walk around the house. From her bedroom doorway, I discover blue satin fabric spread out on the bed. A closer view reveals a pattern for a long evening dress.

I don’t wait any longer. I head home, thinking, What gives my auntie the right to decide who I’m going to be?

Model Mother

When I return home, I find Mrs. Cruz peeking through our store window. John Wayne is squatting under the cabana picnic table, aiming his toy guns my way.

“Bang! Bang!” he says, but I ignore him and look around for Frank, who is nowhere to be found. He was supposed to be watching the store. I want to strangle him, then I remember his wall.

Mrs. Cruz wipes her sweaty forehead with her hand. “I came to buy some chocolate candy for John Wayne.”

“Sorry,” I tell her. “Frank was supposed to be here.”

I open the store and she follows. John Wayne rushes up. “I shot you dead, Isabel.”

“John Wayne,” Mrs. Cruz says.

“You’re supposed to fall down and be dead,” he tells me.

“John Wayne,” Mrs. Cruz repeats firmly. “Hush and choose some candy.”

John Wayne picks up a Milky Way, smells it, then puts it down and picks up a Snickers. He sniffs a Reese’s peanut butter cup, a Mounds, then a pack of plain M&M’s.