Page 110 of Sombra
When we’re done, we head back up to the house and stop to talk to my mother who is driving into town. While I’m kicking off the dust from my boots, she’s dressed in an impeccable skirt and blouse with a blazer. Asusual.
“How are the trees?” She holds her hand over her eyes and peers out at them.
“They’re just about ready,” says Guillermo.
“Bien.” Her eyes narrow, and she crosses her arms. “Why aren’t you in school?”
“Uh. Um,” he stammers.
“Go to class.” He races away to grab his backpack.
She puts her key in her car and unlocks the door. “At least that distractionis leaving soon.”
I don’t like the way she said that, and I have no idea what she’s talking about. Why is Kim leaving? “What do you mean?”
“You let that girl go with her novio.”
“I did nothing of the sort. And he’s not her novio. He’s an amigo. Or not even that.”
“I’m not so sure about that. He said amigo, but I think he means novio. They’ve been talking in her room.”
That sojourn to the orchard did nothing, because the red rage immediately returns, its flames burning in my veins. I’m getting ready to sprint for the house, when my mother reaches out the car door and puts her hand on my arm. “Gustavo. As I’ve said, she cannot be good for you. She’s a dalliance, perhaps, while she’s here. Let her go back to the United States.”
I hear the scufflingof feet, and Kim walks out of the house with a empty clothes basket to go to the laundry house.
My hands clench and release and my tone is sharp. “Yes, yes, Madre. I know you think that.”
Kim stares at me and enters the laundry room.
I continue. “But you’re wrong.”Might as well tell her.“I’m in love with her.”
My mother’s jaw drops down. “In love with her? With laguiri? Don’t be ridiculous.” She waves dismissively.
Stepping closer to my mother, my voice gets low. “I’m as serious as a bureaucrat.”
She raises her voice. “You’re not in love, this is lust. You’re letting your pants take over your brain.”
I grip my wrists behind my back, restraining myself. “No, Madre, I am not—”
“Here is the thing about passion,” she says coldly.“It fizzles out. And then you’re left with the cold ashes of a fire long gone.”
She’s wrong, she must be wrong. She has to be wrong.I look her directly in the eye. “Not if you figure out a way to keep igniting it.”
Her nostrils flare. “Then you get burned, Tavo. Then you get burned.”
She puts the key in the ignition and turns the car on, driving away into town. I watch herleave and start to head to the house, but I see Kim out of the corner of my eye leaving the laundry room with a full basket of clean laundry. Raising my hand, I wave at her, but she frowns and keeps going toward the house.
I stand for a moment watching her, then sprint after her calling, “Kim! Wait!”
Kim’s dumpedher laundry on her bed and is stooped over to fold it, while Shane sits at her desk. My old desk.
I hate him.
When I walk in, she swallows hard and grimaces.What happened?
Giving her head a tiny shake, she pulls up her shoulders and smiles, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. “Tavo, we were thinking of going into Granada so Shanecould see the sights. Do you want to come?”
Do I want to come with my girlfriend who is carrying my baby to show her ex-boyfriend around my town? To show him the places I showed her. All the nooks we’ve kissed in. All the places we’ve held hands.
