Afterlife - Julia Alvarez Page 0,21
Demeter punishing the earth for the disappearance of her daughter. One loss Antonia doesn’t have to anticipate or experience, as she has never had a daughter. No hay mal que por bien no venga, Mami would say. But then, Antonia will never experience the ground-shifting love of a mother for her daughter. She has had twinges of what that might feel like, over the years, with Tilly’s kids, her friends’ kids, a few special students. And most recently with Mario and Estela, pangs she has told herself she cannot afford to indulge now.
Shall we take a vote? Tilly is asking. Antonia has lost track of what it is they’re voting on. Whether to head for the police station or not. Her two sisters concur, Kaspar disagrees, and Antonia, the tie-breaker, betrays the sisterhood by casting her vote with the brother-in-law. They should all take a step back, make some other calls—Izzy’s old friends back in Boston; wasn’t there a recent love interest?; their last remaining aunt, whom Izzy sometimes listens to—before they react.
It’s a gloomy night, but they soldier on, Antonia’s birthday supper, after all. Tilly has prepared a special meal of Antonia’s favorite foods Antonia doesn’t recall being favorites, but she obliges. By now she has become that fictive being, the sisterhood Antonia, with tastes and predilections attached to her. She plays the part, exclaiming over the stuffed peppers, roasted squash with gruyere, spinach soufflé—the platters keep coming to the table. Did Tilly invite a whole village to Antonia’s sixty-sixth birthday party?
Tilly clears the dinner plates, insisting everyone stay put, and after much clattering, and a quiet hiatus in which the side door creaks open—Tilly stepping out for a smoke, no doubt—she returns, bearing a wedding-size cake, blazing with what must be two dozen candles. Feliz cumplea?os, she sings, and Mona and Kaspar join in. Make a wish! they all insist. Antonia closes her eyes, her first birthday without Sam, Izzy missing, the shooting in Christchurch, the dark mood ambushes her again. She lets out the sob she cannot contain, tears streaming down her cheeks. Mona and Tilly swoop to her side, alarmed. ?Qué te pasa? ?Qué te pasa? All it takes is one sister, and soon, they are all bawling.
Never remain dry-eyed when a sister is crying: another rule of the sisterhood.
four
To be missing is not a crime
It is not a crime to go missing, Officer Morgan informs them. If you are an adult you can disappear, and it’s your own darn business. However, in one of those conundrums of law enforcement, such persons should be reported promptly. For although nothing can be done, strictly speaking, the authorities want to know if someone has exercised their freedom as an adult to go missing.
The sisters express their surprise. They were convinced that the police would jump all over this case. What about all those shows on TV?
That’s not the way it works, Officer Morgan clues them in on the intricacies of the law. He has an unkempt look about him, overweight, pale, with tiny nicks on his jaw.
Mona, whom their mother often said should have been a lawyer, points out that this is totally ridiculous, a catch-22 situation. Officer Morgan frowns; he doesn’t understand what Mona is referring to. Antonia flashes baby sister a cautionary look: Romona, por favor. We need the cops on our side.
It’s a novel, Antonia clarifies. How easily she slips into her former teacher role. Have you ever read it?
No, ma’am, he has not. When would he have time to read with three kids to take care of? (Divorced, widowed? He doesn’t say.) Always on the go, which might be why he has nicked himself shaving. His face looks like it got scratched up by one of the suspects his fellow officers brought in, before they were able to wrestle the offender to the ground.
The sisters have driven over to the station to file a report, leaving Kaspar behind to man the landline. They couldn’t bear waiting one minute longer; even Antonia changed her nay vote. Kaspar tried to calm them. Let’s be reasonable. There’s probably a good explanation. We can call the police tomorrow. No need to drive over there tonight.
The guy seriously doesn’t get it, Mona muttered. It’s like his heart’s in his head.
Remember he’s not Dominican, Tilly defended Kaspar. He’s really a good husband. He’s never left me, Tilly elaborated when asked for good-husband specifics. He’s not violent. He likes my cooking.
The description left Antonia feeling sad. The great loves they had