The Girl Who Could Silence the Wind Read online

  “And when do you plan to do something, Ernesto Fermín?” she demanded at the window. “Being the police captain is more than showing off your medals and that silly gun, you know!”

  Capitán Fermín sighed. “What exactly do you expect me to do, Neli?”

  “First of all, let me in.”

  Sonia rolled over as her aunt stepped inside.

  Shortly afterward, four of the department’s best men set out on horseback, kicking up clouds as they thundered off.

  It wasn’t long after that.

  Sonia was sipping her mother’s chamomile tea when Capitán Fermín arrived with the news. He climbed up to the auction platform and removed his worn hat. Beside him stood Marco. The conductor’s tie was loose, and his eyes were rimmed in red.

  “Friends,” the police chief began. “Today I have a sad obligation.”

  The villagers abandoned their conversations and crowded in like sheep to brace themselves. A covered cart was beside the mounted men in the road.

  Capitán Fermín did not dare look at Señora Clara, who was already tearing at her hair and wailing. Nor did he even try to stop Sonia from walking unsteadily to the cart when she spotted the worn sole of a familiar thick-heeled shoe.

  She pulled back the canvas. Black flies buzzed at Luis’s eyes, half opened and fixed on her in accusation. Thieves had turned his hip pockets out. His thick hair was matted with blood where their bullets had blasted through his skull.

  “I thought it was a dead animal on the tracks,” Marco told the stunned crowd.

  He had managed to stop his fine train just in time.

  IT WAS SONIA who washed the bruises on Luis’s face because Señora Clara could not. It was Sonia who combed his thick hair down around his wounds. Sonia who knotted his tie and folded his stiffened hands. When she was through, she sat staring mutely at her friend’s body, ashamed at how she had failed him so completely.

  Weeks later, when other girls could dream again of boys holding their hands by the river, Sonia could not close her eyes without seeing images of Luis’s body laid out like a doll on his kitchen table. She could still see the worn cuff on his trousers and the plain wooden coffin bobbing on men’s shoulders through the trees. She conjured faceless men and the sound of their bullets tearing through his skull for a few miserable coins. Finally, she decided to stop sleeping altogether.

  “The girl is sick with sorrow,” Blanca explained to the women who stopped by to inquire. There was talk at the market that Sonia’s eyes had become dull, that she refused to stir from her room.

  “It was the mother’s fault,” Sonia heard one say. “I’m sure of it. An evil secret Clara is being punished for. Your poor child could do nothing.”

  Sonia turned over in her bed. Where was God in all of this? she wondered bitterly. Why had he turned a deaf ear to her supplications for Luis? Priests could spin long sermons on the topic of God’s mysterious ways, but it made no sense to her at all. In fact, it made her furious. Never once had she complained of her fate. She’d shouldered everything that had been expected of her. She’d prayed each night without fail, each milagro like a bead in an endless rosary.

  And yet Luis had still died — and now his mother was being blamed.

  A knot of doubt squeezed inside her for the first time in her life. It all seemed to grow clear now. She had held Luis in her heart with all her might — and he’d still been murdered. What if she had no power, no magic or special favor? What if all there was in the world was luck?

  Sonia sat up slowly and stared at her shawl, which was hanging near her door. It all made sense now. Her whole life had been built around a silly mountain myth. She was nothing but a fraud, a girl in a costume. She was as helpless as anyone else in Tres Montes.

  “So, are you going to waste away here forever?” Tía Neli had appeared at her bedside with a cup of hot tea. “I can’t take much more of these nosy visitors.”

  “Send them away,” Sonia mumbled.

  “I’ve tried, but no one takes a hint in this town.” She sat at the edge of Sonia’s bed and held out the cup. “Drink this. I put special pepper in it.”

  Sonia stared into her aunt’s bright eyes instead. Tía Neli had always loved her dearly, having no daughters of her own. “I’m serious, Tía. Send them away. Then tell them I can’t give them what they all want.”

  Tía Neli put a hand to Sonia’s forehead and set down the tea. “Every sadness passes, you know. Even a terrible one like this.”

  Sonia shook her head, her eyes brimming with tears. “It’s not only sadness, Tía. It’s more than that. I can’t do what everyone wants. I can’t stop bad times from finding us. I can’t control things any more than they can.”

  Tía Neli flinched, and Sonia knew that her aunt had been thinking of Luis, too — and adding up the facts.

  “Does it matter?” she said. “I’ve lived in Tres Montes long enough to know it’s pointless to terrify a mountainside of people with unpleasant realities — which are never welcomed, anyway. Maybe it’s honorable enough to give elders hope in their old age. Besides, any god would say it’s a sin to make your parents suffer with worry.”

  But for once Sonia would not be agreeable. “And what of my suffering? Do you know what it’s like to live as I do? To be asked to make rain in the dry season? To cure coughs? To dress your dead friend because you couldn’t save him? And why am I cursed this way? Because I was born on the wrong night, that’s all. It’s all been a silly lie!”

  “Shhh!” Tía Neli bit her lip and walked to the window to check the yard.

  “I need you to help me,” Sonia insisted. “I’ve wandered around town like an armadillo long enough. I need you to help me tell everyone the truth.”

  But Tía Neli only turned and put up her hand. “Your abuela used to say, ‘God often does the right thing by crooked means.’ You have to be patient. A solution will present itself.”

  Tears of frustration spilled from Sonia’s eyes. “I can’t trust God! He’s abandoned me completely!”

  “Don’t talk nonsense.” Tía Neli nodded to the ladies who had finally left along the path. She turned to Sonia with a stern face. “It’s time to get up. The kitchen floor needs sweeping.”

  Sonia stared at her hopelessly.

  “Go,” Tía Neli said firmly. “Go, and leave the rest to me.”

  A FEW DAYS later, Sonia had just finished her honey toast and coffee when she heard a pounding on the door. It was Tía Neli, breathless with excitement to announce the big news. The rancher’s daughter, Cuca, who lived farther up the mountain, had broken her hand in a careless fall from her horse. Tía Neli had been visiting the girl’s mother when it happened. She’d heard the bones snap like twigs. She’d seen the girl’s hand inflate like a frog’s throat in springtime.

  “She can’t travel to the capital this year!” Tía Neli cried gleefully. “She’ll be useless as a worker! Isn’t that fantastic!”

  Sonia gave her aunt a blank look.

  Tía Neli stopped in her tracks and grabbed her niece’s hands. “I’ve been puzzling for days for a way to help you without disturbing matters too much,” she said. “Don’t you see? This is the answer! This is your chance to be free of your troubles and still make your parents proud — or at least richer, if you’re smart. Run — find your father!”

  Sonia had no real idea of what her aunt was talking about, but she rushed down the path to the vegetable garden. Felix was crouched over a tender squash vine, too deaf to hear his daughter calling him.

  “Papi,” she said, reaching for his elbow. But just as she spoke, Sonia felt a gust of winter wind and something falling away from her, dropping as softly as a silk ribbon from her long, black hair. She looked all around — so shocking was the feeling! — but saw nothing.

  It was only as she stood panting in front of her startled father that she began to collect her thoughts. Somewhere on the path between Tía Neli and her father, the ties that bound her to their home in Tres Montes had been cut loose.<
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  “Come,” she said, shaking. “There is important news at the house.”

  By the time Felix and Sonia arrived, the rest of family was already gathered. Blanca was softening beans, Tía Neli was pacing, and Rafael, home early from his weekend card game, was pretending to nap on the couch. Sonia moved his feet and sat down beside him to listen.

  As a courtesy to his know-it-all sister, Felix let Tía Neli share her news between sips of her coffee. Naturally, he was not happy in the least with his sister’s bold interference in Sonia’s life. He often said Neli’s longing for all modern things was repellent, that she was never satisfied with the simple beauty of a mountain life, and her son, Pedro, was plagued by the same ailment. With his silly mother’s blessings, the boy had left three years earlier to slaughter hogs somewhere in the North.

  “Turn your nose up if you like, but it’s thanks to Pedro’s hogs that I have my house,” Tía Neli always bragged. But Felix still scoffed at her new shoes and the perfume she wore even to water the goats’ trough. He thanked God every day that Blanca had shown no such inclination.

  Felix followed the bread crumbs to where Tía Neli’s story was leading. When she finished, he crossed his arms and gave her an annoyed look.

  “My children are staying put, Sister,” he said firmly.

  “But, Felix, Sonia can go to the capital instead of Cuca and learn a skill. She’ll see something besides cows and pine trees. Imagine it: the capital — a big city.” She pursed her lips and gave Sonia an especially pained look. “Besides, look at her: The girl needs a bit of rest from all these unpleasant shocks. Her eyes looked bruised from worry. Have pity!”

  “She’ll rest here just fine in her own bed.”

  “Well, then, how about the money? Or is it that you don’t mind eating only beans every day?”

  Sonia sat on the edge of her seat barely breathing as Tía Neli made her case. Escaping as a worker in the capital! She had once seen a picture of the domes of the presidential palace. A few of the older girls from school worked there each winter, far away from their parents and mountain ways. Now maybe Sonia would have a chance to see it herself — and escape from her worries. She gave Rafael a pleading glance for help.

  He tapped Sonia gently with his toes and propped himself up. “If I know Sonia, she’ll find a way to earn more money than Papi and me!” he said, giving her braid a tug.

  Felix shot him an angry look. “It’s too dangerous for an innocent girl to be alone in the city,” he said. “Think of her on the trolley. Those savages might steal your sister off or pinch her raw.”

  “Modern women learn how to take care of themselves, Brother,” Tía Neli argued. “And if she works in a good house, the owner will invest in her safety. I’ve heard they post guards everywhere on those estates.” She turned to her niece, unable to resist dropping a morsel to cheer her. “You might travel in a fancy car with a driver!”

  Sonia’s eyes grew wide. “A chauffeur?”

  “What kind of car?” Rafael asked.

  “Who cares about cars?” Felix snapped. “Sonia Ocampo a servant? Ridiculous! She’s a gift from God.”

  “So what? Everyone needs to know about a little dusting and fetching — even an angel,” Tía Neli insisted. “How do you think heaven stays so white and clean? Anyway, I promise you, she’ll be in a reputable house. We’ll arrange for her to go with Ramona. She’ll make sure her girls treat Sonia like a sister.” Here she paused carefully. “In return, Sonia will bless and protect them. Isn’t that right, niña?”

  Sonia stared at her aunt. “Of course.”

  “And who’ll protect us right here, eh?” Felix stabbed the table with his forefinger. “The rainy season is practically upon us, Neli. Storms, illness — where will we be without her?”

  The mere thought of an entire season of new petitions drove Sonia to near madness. Reading her expression, Rafael chimed in.

  “In that case, lend me one of her dresses,” he offered. “I’m nearly twenty, and I have nice legs. I’ll be happy to go in her place and earn all the money.”

  “¡Silencio!” ordered Felix.

  Tía Neli bit her lip to keep from laughing and shook her finger at her brother. “Don’t be such a brute, Felix. God has sent this chance to Sonia for a reason. It would be rude of you to ignore it. Besides, why do we have children, hermano, if it is not to help us when we get old? She’s young and strong and able to work.”

  She looked around the shabby kitchen.

  “It’s time to get our noses out from the clouds and put our feet on firm ground. A new stove is in order, and you won’t last much longer in the mines to save enough for that. Haven’t you seen the shape Guacho’s in after twenty-five years in the mine?”

  Felix grimaced and looked away from Blanca. He knew she deserved better.

  For an agonizing moment, Sonia thought her father would once again refuse. Hope shriveled in her chest. One way or another, she had to be free. She would have to be bold in dealing with her father. There was only one voice of authority that no traditional man could ignore. It was even stronger than God’s.

  She went to her father and pressed his hand to her cheek, hoping he would not detect the daring lie that had gathered on her lips. Felix Ocampo had always prided himself on being an obedient son. He’d even honored his mother’s dying wish to be buried with a cup of tea in one hand and her favorite knitting needles in the other. Sonia leaned in close to his ear.

  “Papi, I had a vision. Abuela came to me last night and told me to leave Tres Montes. I didn’t want to frighten you, but now I have no choice.”

  Her father’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “My mother?” he exclaimed. “She came to you?” Everyone knew that the dead bothered themselves only with the most important things.

  “Yes. Abuela said, ‘Go on, mi vida. There is a place for you in the city.’ This job is what she must have meant.”

  Tía Neli arched her brow and nervously reached for her necklace.

  “Mamá was always wise. . . .” she offered cautiously. “That’s where I get my brains.”

  Sonia knelt near her father and looked into his worried eyes. “I know you want me here in Tres Montes. But Tía and Abuela are right. This work will help us with the things we need. God has presented this chance for a reason.”

  “January through September.” Tía Neli counted on her fingers. “Nine months. She’ll be home in no time.”

  Blanca turned from her pot at last and regarded Sonia carefully. Sonia knew that her mother loved her children above all else and found it nearly impossible to see them suffer. She could see that no amount of tea and incense had helped chase away the nightmares. Blanca glanced over her shoulder into the scant pot of beans that would have to stretch to feed the entire family. Only one thing frightened a mother in Tres Montes more than starving.

  “They never come back the same,” she said quietly.

  “Blanca —” Tía Neli began.

  “You know it’s true, Neli. I am not a modern woman like you, but I’m not a stupid one, either. The young go places we can hardly imagine, but they come back with new words in their mouths and new ways in their hearts. They learn to look at their own parents with shame. Suddenly Tres Montes is too slow for them, too small, too dusty and poor. They hate to come home, and then, one day, they forget their own families altogether. We lose them forever.”

  A long silence fell on the Ocampos. Even Tía Neli sighed, lost in thoughts of whether Pedro would wrap her legs in warm blankets one day when she got old.

  It was Rafael who rescued them. He forced a smile over his sad eyes and clapped his hands twice.

  “¡Vamos! We’ve had enough wakes,” he chided. “It’s time to be happy again. I say, Abuela is right. If Sonia has the chance to work in the capital, she should go and not look back.” He turned to his sister and winked. “Just make sure you come back with lots of money, Sonia. I could use a new truck.”

  “Finally! Someone has good sense!” Tía Neli patte
d her lips with a napkin and took Felix’s hand. “I will arrange to see Arenas in a few days. He’s hiring the last round of workers for the season next week. She’ll make you proud. You’ll see.”

  “I am already proud,” Felix muttered. Then he looked at his wife and did the unthinkable. “Bueno, Blanca. You nursed her yourself. What do we do with the girl?”

  Sonia squirmed in her chair as her mother turned back to look at her.

  Then Blanca lowered her eyes and spoke loudly enough for Felix to hear. Her words rang out like a proclamation, though tears were already pooled in her eyes.

  “Tell Abuela to be still in her grave. There is no stopping a girl born stronger than the wind. Let Sonia go.”

  SONIA GLANCED DOWN at her feet as she trudged down the steep incline toward the plaza below. She had been traveling down the hillside for only a short time, but her boots were already consumed in the yellow dust that would hover in Tres Montes for the duration of the dry season. The thin powder floated in the air and made everything look faded. Even the girls walking just ahead of her looked like floating spirits.

  In the weak morning sunlight, and still so far away, the plaza looked deserted. The main street was long and narrow, lined with flat-topped stucco buildings and windows dressed in rusty iron bars. Their large hand-painted letters marked each establishment. FARMACIA, POLICÍA, REGISTRO CIVIL. From there, small winding roads spread out haphazardly and ended at the church ruins. Sonia looked away, hoping that today might be her chance to leave it all behind.

  She felt in her pocket for her birth registration, her money, and her handkerchief; everything was in order. For now, it was only her boots that were the problem. She would have to make them shine like glass before they met Señor Arenas. Tía Neli, who had assigned herself chaperone, would insist. After all, she had made it clear how important it was to make a good impression.

  “To serve a fine family in a big city, you must be impeccable in your appearance and manners,” her aunt had told her. “One has to be a person who cares about the smallest details.” Even silly ones, Sonia assumed, like dusty boots.