Afterlife - Julia Alvarez Page 0,12
if you’re going to be a bore.
Just checking in. What time tonight and what can I bring?
Six-ish? And not a thing, just yourself.
When people say not to bring something, do you still bring wine? When they add -ish to the hour, when do they really want you at their door? She should know these things, as she and Sam often had people over. Will she be entertaining now that she is alone? She misses it, guests around the table, chili made with ground beef from Roger’s honor store, cornbread made with Sam’s blue corn.
Back in the living room, Mario is standing at the window looking down at the ladder.
He sighs in response to her questions. El coyote requires three hundred more dollars just to release Estela. Mario can cover that amount with what he has borrowed. But he also has to come up with the money for Estela’s bus ticket to Burlington.
They’re using you, Antonia fumes, shaking her head at Mario. They’ll never be satisfied.
Puede ser, Mario nods. But what choice does he have but to keep the one he loves safe? What would you do if it were you, do?ita?
She should take him to tonight’s dinner party. Poor Mario has a question for our group.
She knows what her friend Vivian would do. Vivian supports worthy causes, just as she does her poor friends. She would write a check. No questions asked. But then Vivian can afford casting her bread upon the waters. She married the bakery owner, so to speak. Franklin’s surname is a famous brand name. Yes, that family. He doesn’t have to work for a living, which is why he went into teaching, he explained at one dinner party. Didn’t even register that there were teachers present, the kind who needed to work to pay their property taxes, health insurance, their kids’ college tuitions.
Ay, do?ita querida, Mario says, in the cajoling voice of a young man flirting with an older woman. He knows it is a lot to ask—but would Antonia be willing to loan him the money to buy the bus ticket? Loan, a way for the poor back home to save face. A loan, not a handout, which the gracious and generous always forgive.
She gives him a nod of consideration, not a yes, but not a no. Highly sensitive people need time and quiet as they are easily overwhelmed, especially when they are grieving. Who is she kidding? She has already decided. Of course, she will buy Estela’s bus ticket, but she will make the arrangements herself to ensure the money goes where it should go. The charitable gesture, hemmed in by suspicion. Not Izzy’s way or Sam’s. Sam, who got taken left and right, so that she always had to be the vigilant one, the bad cop. Don’t you think I’d like to indulge myself for once, she complained to him. Be my guest, he said. Why not two good cops?
Mario is beside himself with gratitude. He grabs her hands, kisses them, a nearly extinct gesture only seen these days on stage, Shakespearean plays at the college, and in telenovelas.
?Ya, ya, ya! she says, dismissing his lavish response. She knows what she has been thinking. Thank God people can’t see inside each other’s heads.
While he waits beside her, she checks online for tickets. Several options are available. The northern route goes through Toronto, then drops back down to Vermont. Best not to cross an international border with no passport or papers. The southern route is better, but it will involve a number of transfers. Estela might have trouble finding her way. Maybe Greyhound has a service? How does Antonia find out? Call the 800 number and ask the rep if they can help transfer an undocumented person from one bus to another? She notes the different time options. Meanwhile, Mario is to let her know when he has wired the money to the coyote, so Antonia can finish booking the ticket for Estela to pick up at the station in Denver. Mario provides all of Estela’s information. The full name. Estela Adelia Cruz Fuentes. For home address and number, Antonia will have to use her own. God forbid Greyhound should contact Roger.
When they are done, Mario again grabs her hands. Ya, ya, she stops him. He must not confuse her with a truly good person—a truly good person would not feel relieved about hightailing it to Chicago and leaving these kids in the lurch. But how much can one person take on? We live