The Replacement Child - By Christine Barber Page 0,22

teacher at the school…. I just saw her a few days ago and she was all smiles. I can’t freaking believe this…. You must know something. What are the state cops saying?”

“Manny …”

“Melissa would never commit suicide. Do you think it’s a suicide?” Cordova sounded desperate.

“Manny,” Gil said gently, “I don’t know anything.”

“What does Melissa look like? I mean, can you tell it’s her?”

“I didn’t see the body. But it’s her.”

Gil heard Manny swear softly before he said, “Just call me if you find out anything else. I’m going to call Ron to make sure he and his mom are okay.” They hung up, and Gil got back on the road.

As he crested the hill into Truchas, the sun was setting over the Jemez Mountains. He looked to the east, where the Sangre de Cristos were a deep shade of pink. The Española Valley below was cut by the headlights of cars following the highway out of Santa Fe along the valley floor. By the time Gil reached Santa Fe, it was full dark.

CHAPTER FOUR

Tuesday Night

Maxine Baca sat in the easy chair that her husband, Ernesto, had bought her. It had blue upholstery with white dots and fancy skirt ruffle. Its back was too high, making it uncomfortable to sit in. The armrests were dirty. She smoothed them, hoping it would make them look better. She wanted to vacuum the chair but knew that if she walked to the utility closet she would be stopped by well-wishers—was that what they were called? The living room around her was crowded with people. She heard children’s laughter coming from the kitchen. It was quickly quieted.

She wanted them all gone. She wanted to be locked in her house alone and not let out. She had heard people on television say that having a child die was the worst thing that could happen to you. What was it supposed to feel like when you lost two children and a husband?

She stood up and made it to her bedroom, ignoring everyone who put out a hand to stop her. She slumped in front of her shrine to Daniel and struggled to stay on her knees. Someone was behind her in the doorway, saying something. She ignored him until he went away.

She picked up the picture of Daniel, her oldest. It had been taken at his high-school graduation, a year before he died. She touched the photo. Daniel had borrowed Ernesto’s best tie and they had gone to Dillard’s to get him a new shirt with a collar. She carefully placed the picture back at the feet of the statue of Our Lady. She touched the corners of Daniel’s First Communion picture, which was leaning against a statue of St. Anthony, her patron saint. He had been only six and had been too scared to smile at the camera. Above Daniel’s shrine hung a crucifix. Maxine had dressed Our Lord Jesus in a robe of blue satin, with lace on the sleeves she had sewn by hand. The robe had been her gift to Our Lord for Daniel.

On the table next to two votive candles was a piece of coral. She picked it up. It was pink and jagged. Not much bigger than a pumpkin seed. Her mother had brought the coral when Daniel was born. To ward off mal de ojo. Maxine had put the coral in Daniel’s crib to protect him from the jealous people who would say he was beautiful but give him the devil’s eye.

Ernesto didn’t want the coral in Daniel’s crib, fearing that he might choke on it. But Ernesto didn’t understand. His family was from town and went to the doctor when they were sick. Maxine’s family still lived in the mountains and saw the curandera. The coral had come from the curandera. And Maxine knew that it would protect Daniel.

Maxine, still kneeling, braced herself against the shrine, holding the coral tightly in her hand until she felt it poking into her skin. She heard the people out in the living room talking softly.

The day after Maxine had taken Daniel home from the hospital, Maxine’s mother brought the priest to the house to bless Daniel’s nursery and the piece of coral. The priest had held the coral in his hand, saying something that was hard to understand in Spanish. Or maybe Latin. While the priest prayed, her mother made the sign of the cross with an egg over Daniel three times. Then her mother cracked the egg in a jar.