Chapter Two
Mari Belle
The air was stifling today. The wind viciously whipped the dirt into the air, twisting and turning it back around to sling the sand against my skin like a weapon. Raising my hands in the air, I danced with the wind like I did as a little girl pretending I had the power to bend it to my will.
If only the supernatural power was achievable. Today, I had power over nothing. I knew when I crossed the threshold of the Almanza home I would find my mother laid up on the couch fighting an invisible battle inside her body.
This was my life.
As much as everyone tried to protect me from it, I knew she was dying.
When was the last time I slept in my own bed? Instead, night after night Mamá dozed on the Almanza couch while I slept in Estella’s bed. It had been weeks and we were all suffering alongside my dying mom. Estella got whatever sleep she could manage sitting in a chair beside my mother, her best friend. Maricio, my older brother crashed in Luciana’s old bed which was in the same room as Javier.
The Almanzas’ had lived next door my entire life. My earliest memories were Luciana calling me her sister and always holding my hand everywhere we went. I held onto the memory when one the boys got sand in my eyes and Luciana picked up her baby-doll stroller and whacked them both upside their heads. They both whined while she pointed her finger at them and told them they had to watch out for me. It was life for us and the little things always meant the most. She always made sure I got my dinner first so the boys wouldn’t eat everything. Luciana was my mother hen, constantly shielding and protecting me.
Then she left.
A few years ago she took off with a man from America. She wrote me letters of her life in America. She was happy and for that I was satisfied. In my heart, I hoped to one day go to live with her. I needed to be free from Juarez, the danger, the drugs, and the fact that no matter what happened there was no way to move up in life here.
It was the slums.
At school, I was made fun of for the hand-me-down boy clothes I wore from Javier. The few girls from our street all swooned over my brother and Javi. I knew, everyone knew, they were tied to the Silvia Cartel now. They were untouchable since the first time they stole a pair of bicycles and started skipping school.
I didn’t tell on them. Never would either. I knew why they did it and honestly, I didn’t know what I would do without them.
Except I had dreams, hopes, aspirations, and they weren’t the kind that landed me married to a Cartel man popping out babies. I was more than some Cartel bitch. I was Mari Belle Luisa Dominguez.
I might not have known what that meant just yet, but I knew I would become more than this town could ever allow me to be.
Slowly, I made my way inside the house. The walls were battered as much as my mother’s soul was from the way my father left us to fret over her health, our safety, and to struggle with the little bit of money he managed to send every month.
Everything was quiet. The boys were gone. Mamá was sound asleep on the couch while Estella was softly snoring in the chair beside her. They were peaceful in a way no one could see during their waking hours.
The air around me was hot, stifling from being so dry. Careful not to rattle them, I set my bag on the floor and made my way over. Quietly, I dropped to my knees beside my mom. She rolled to her side and for a moment, I held my breath afraid I had woken her.
In a matter of moments, her breathing slowed again, falling into a steady pattern.
My mind drifted. There were so many things I wanted to tell her.
Be at peace. I allowed myself to find comfort in it for a second only to be filled with conflicting emotions behind the thought.
Don’t leave me, Mamá. Fight for me. Fight for all the things I will one day do. I need my mom to help me do my hair on my wedding day. You have missed too much already.
The tears built up and silently fell down my face in streams. My Quinceañera, the day every girl dreamed of, was filled with a party of sorts, a dress, and even a dance. In Mexican tradition a girl’s fifteenth birthday was a rite of passage. Everyone came, even Mamá. She didn’t stay for the whole thing. She was too weak. After the traditional stuff she went home with Estella to help her. It was a night that will forever be perfect in my mind.
Closing my eyes, I revisited the scene.
“Open the box,” Maricio ordered. He was so proud as he stood in front of me with eyes beaming and a wide smile.
Slowly, I opened the white box in front of me. Inside, the most beautiful fabric sat in front of me.
“Happy Birthday, Mari Belle.”
Tears filled my eyes as I removed the piece, lifting it high in the air to see the full gown come to life. The white sparkled with more sequins than I could count. The lace trim only made every edge stand out more.
“Javier is getting ready and will be your escort.”
I lowered the dress so I could look my brother in the eye in question.
“It’s your Quinceañera. He will be your escort. Mamá is getting ready so we can’t be late. She won’t be able to stay out long, you know, but we have everything for you Mari. I’m sorry we can’t give you a Mass but Padre Jose wanted a donation and Mamá isn’t strong enough to sit through such a ceremony. Javi and I thought you would enjoy the party more anyway.”
My heart was bursting with joy as I dressed happily for my celebration. This was a milestone and a memory I would carry with me forever.
With each passing day, my mother’s health continued to decline. That birthday would be my last with her. Since Mamá’s medicine took all the money our father sent home, Javier and Maricio paid for my birthday. They got a cake from a lady down the street who made them in her home, andset up a small event in an abandoned shack down the road. It wasn’t glamorous, or even something I had pictures of. In fact, all that remained was the white gown filled with lace and sequins hanging in my closet and my memories.
When I finished my hair, Javier stood in the entryway to his bedroom door wearing a pair of dress pants and a crisp white button up shirt. In his hand was a box that he carried to me. I couldn’t wipe the smile off my face as he opened it to reveal a corsage. Sliding the purple orchard wristlet onto my arm, he kissed my forehead.
Electricity zinged through me at the excitement of tonight.
“Mujer Hermosa,” Javier whispered before planting a soft kiss to my cheek this time. His lips were full and soft. I wanted to stand in this spot and take in everything. The way he smelled; clean, crisp, and still a hint of musk, the way he stood, proud, strong, and so handsome. Javier Almanza was always so serious. He was the unshakable one that I knew I could lean on. As my eyes met his something passed between us.
I was too caught up in the moment to drink it in.
He took me by the hand and led me down the road. The ballet flats I wore that accompanied my dress were tight on my feet, but I didn’t dare try to slow down. They were brand new and didn’t stretch easily. My brother, Javier, and our mothers put too much into this for me to have a single complaint. My feet could fall off tonight and I wouldn’t shed a single tear.
As Javier held me close, we stepped inside the space that was decorated in whites, golds, with touches of light pinks and lavenders. It was so special to know these two boys put all this thought into giving me this night.
My mother sat beside Estella with tears glistening in her eyes as Maricio stepped up and extended his hand to me.
“A dance, hermana?”
I nodded taking his hand and letting him take me to the middle of the room. On a hand raise, Estella pressed a button on the old tape player and the music began. I danced with my brother in place of my father.
The music came to an end and my heart swelled with pride, joy, and love.
A chair was moved and Maricio guided me to it. I sat and watched as Estella helped my mother to stand and then walk to me. When she stopped in front of me she knelt down and lifted my feet. At which point Estella handed her the bag she carried.
“My daughter,” my mother spoke with a strained voice. “You are so beautiful. You have walked a mile and so much more on my heart with these feet. Today you are a woman.”
With tears running down her face, my mother slipped the white sequined strappy heels on my feet.
“You will walk with pride, my hija. You will walk with honor. You are Mari Belle Luisa Dominguez and nothing can stop you.”
I couldn’t fight back my own tears and emotions as she buckled my shoes. With help from Estella she stood and then pressed a soft kiss to my cheek. “I have never been more blessed in my life than the day God gave me you. I love you with everything I am. You are strong, hija, never forget that no matter what life throws at you, you are strong.”
Then Javier stepped up as Estella guided my mother back to her place. Javier leaned down wiping my eyes with his thumbs.
“No tears, this is your day. My Mari Belle, this is your day,” he told me as he moved to take my hands in his and pull me up.
The shoes felt funny as I tried to adjust. Javier’s strong grip kept me stable as I found my way again. The waltz began and he led me through each movement as my rite of passage as a Latin woman continued. I didn’t have a court and that didn’t matter I had Javi so I had the entire world.
That night the world was mine. It was the best memory of my entire life. In fifteen years, that was the only day I can truly say was mine and I could let everything go. For one day, Maricio and Javier gave me the gift of freedom in my mind. I had no worries, not a single care about anything, except having fun. I got to be a normal teenage girl.
Today reality had crashed around me. My mother told me I was strong enough to go on in life without her. I wasn’t.
She may have believed it, but I did not. No woman should have to lose her mother this way and this young.
Just like that night, our lives were this tangled mess of awkward and beautiful. My mother and the way she was fighting for every second of life, Javier and Maricio who had to step up to be men when they were still boys, and me with Estella as my example of how I should grow as a woman.
“Speak to her, mi hija. She loves to hear your voice. Tell her all the things you wish to say,” Estella told me, bringing me out of my thoughts and back to my dying mother in front of me. I felt her hand squeeze my shoulder. “I will give you some privacy. Always know, Mari Belle, there is nothing a daughter can’t share with her mother.”
“It hurts, Mamá,” I whispered. “Even knowing you’re in pain and there is no way to stop you from dying, it hurts to lose you, Mamá.” Her breathing pitched, and with the noises she made as I spoke, I knew.
I knew the end was here.
“I love you, Mamá. I will be strong. I will be so very strong. I promise you, Mamá.”