The Girl Who Could Silence the Wind Read online

  Forgive me for keeping secrets, Pancho, she thought glumly. But it’s for the best this way.

  THE CLEARING BEHIND Sonia’s house blazed with a bonfire, and tree branches were strung with tin-can lanterns that illuminated the long table laden with treats. Pork tamales and vegetables would accompany the chickens and hogs that were roasting on coals nearby.

  The old miners were singing as her father plucked on his guitar. The varnish had worn away, but the sound was still lovely. He led the men in an old rhyme as their wives joined them, clapping and laughing behind their backs.

  Mi papá se fue al puerto y me dejo una navaja,

  con un letrero que dice, “Si quieres comer, trabaja.”

  My father went to the harbor and he left me a carved knife —

  Sonia wandered along the table and hummed the last line: “If you want to eat, then you’ll have to work in this life.”

  Excitement left her with no appetite. She nibbled on a meat pie and tried to make polite conversation, but all the while she watched from the corner of her eye for Pancho, who had not arrived.

  All their other neighbors had come with heartfelt good-byes and carnations to throw at her feet.

  “I promise you that she will carry your prayers on her journey,” Blanca assured them as she collected the tiny metal shapes in a pouch that the tanner had made especially for the occasion. Sonia barely looked at them.

  “What will we do without you?” asked Inez, rubbing her sore knees. The rancher’s wife had been bent in prayer over exaggerated confessions at the church ruins since her daughter’s accident. Cuca stood beside her wearing her bandage mitten, damning proof of some supposed hidden guilt.

  “We’ve had too many tears these days, Inez,” Tía Neli said kindly. “Tonight is a night to forget. Bad times, happy face; let’s try to celebrate.”

  Cuca stepped forward and kissed Sonia on each cheek. “We’ll be counting the days until God brings you home.”

  “Thank you.” Sonia pointed at Cuca’s mitten. “Does it hurt very much?”

  Cuca shrugged. “Not too much anymore. But here —” She reached into her pocket and pulled out a tattered map. “I’ve brought a present for you. It’s the capital.”

  Sonia studied the streets and squiggles. It was hard to imagine herself in a place so large. There were train stations and hospitals, a university and a grid of streets with impressive names.

  “What does X mean?” she asked. A large section of streets were crossed off.

  “The slum.” Cuca shook her head and whispered. “Don’t find yourself there.”

  Inez turned from Tía Neli and reached out for Sonia’s hand.

  “Won’t you say a prayer for us to be safe until your return?” she asked.

  Before Sonia could refuse, the women huddled close and joined hands. Sonia bowed her head, but she did not pray. Instead she let her mind wander to the grid of winding streets. It was hard to believe that this would be her last night in Tres Montes — at least for a long while. As much as she wanted to go to the capital, she knew she’d miss the things she loved: the start of the rains, the bullfrogs clinging to the walls, napping to the sound of rain hitting the roof. Nine months suddenly seemed an eternity to be without her parents, Rafael, and Tía Neli. It was also long enough, she realized, for someone like Pancho to forget her entirely. Where on earth could he be? she wondered.

  When she was sure that enough time had passed for a prayer, she opened her eyes.

  “All will be well,” she mumbled. “Good rains, good crops, good health.”

  “There you are, amorcito!” Eva was radiant in a white cotton dress that skimmed her caramel shoulders.

  “You should be dancing!” she said, linking her arm through Sonia’s. “It’s a party, after all.” She lowered her voice to a whisper as she led Sonia away. “It’s all right, isn’t it? Magic girls can dance?”

  Sonia smiled. “Let’s find Rafael.”

  Girls were huddled around Tía Neli’s record player, a gift from Pedro, along with music he’d bought on one of his work trips. Several girls danced together, arguing over leading; a few swayed with their sleepy siblings on their hips. Rafael, the lone rooster in the henhouse, gave each girl a turn at dancing, his eyes glassy with pleasure. Finally, he saw his baby sister watching him.

  “Sonia!” he called.

  He pulled her out to dance as everyone around them clapped and hooted. Rafael was handsome, even with his hair disheveled and his shirttails hanging over his jeans. He was a wonderful dancer, so completely free and sure with all his movements that he made Sonia feel brave in her own clumsier rhythms. She could feel the envious stares of the crowd watching them, but for once she didn’t mind people’s eyes on her. She felt free and proud with Rafael.

  “You’re the big breadwinner in the family now!” he said, twirling her dramatically. “Thank God it doesn’t have to be me!” He planted an enormous kiss on Sonia’s cheek. “I’ve decided I’m meant to be a man of leisure.”

  “And who’s going to maintain you? One of your girlfriends? Or should I say, one of your friend’s girlfriends?” Sonia teased.

  Rafael pretended to look hurt. “Who are you calling a gigolo? Someone has to keep the ladies from going crazy without their men. But don’t worry, hermanita. I’m an honorable guy. Ask them: we’re talking and dancing — that’s all. Most of the time, anyway.”

  “Tell that to their boyfriends when they come back from their jobs. They’ll be looking for you!”

  Rafael threw his head back and laughed as they circled the dance area. “They’ll never catch me!”

  When the music ended, the crowd burst into applause. Rafael took her face in his hands and suddenly grew serious. “I’m going to miss you, Sonia. Take care of yourself.”

  She rested her forehead on his chin and took in the smell of beer and his sweet aftershave. “Walk me back to the house, will you?” She pointed at the dark path that led home. “I have to finish packing.”

  A groan of disappointment lifted as they started toward the path. They had not gone two steps when someone called to them.

  “Where are you going, Rafael? It’s still early.”

  Sonia bristled at the sound of another girl’s voice. She had no interest in sharing her brother with one of his silly girlfriends tonight.

  When she turned, she saw it was Dalia. Older than Sonia, she knew how to reduce boys to quivers with only her eyes, even Rafael. She had grown up alongside brothers, who were always in one kind of trouble or another. As a result, she could drown an unwanted litter of kittens without mercy and shoot the buttons off a man’s shirt at a distance of thirty paces. Of all the people Sonia had ever known, only Dalia had never approached for prayers. She had never asked God or anyone else for so much as a hairpin. Dalia would be leaving for Casa Masón tomorrow as well.

  Sonia held tightly to her brother’s hand as Rafael paused.

  “Talk to her later,” she whispered.

  Rafael sighed. “But, mamita, she’s got all those curves, and here I am with no brakes. . . .”

  “Let’s go.”

  But Rafael did not budge. He and Dalia kept staring at each other as if an entire unspoken conversation were unfolding.

  “Don’t go,” Dalia said finally. “Please.”

  “I have to, linda,” he said gently. “Now, be good, and keep your promises.”

  He blew Dalia a kiss and turned away.

  “What was that all about?” Sonia asked.

  He slung his arm around her shoulder. They walked in silence toward the house.

  Sonia had always hated darkness. At night white cows sometimes wandered away from their pens and frightened her with glowing eyes and groans at her window.

  “Calm yourself,” Rafael would tell her when she was afraid. “The darkness can hold good surprises, too. Think of gold in the mines.”

  When they reached their room, Rafael lay back on his narrow bed to stare at the ceiling. Sonia began folding the last of her
things into her trunk. The train to the capital would leave the following day. She surveyed the last of her belongings. Tía Neli had offered a greasy balm for chapped hands, and (in secret) a nearly new pair of shoes in case she had somewhere fancy to go with a companion. Her father had presented her with pressed wildflowers to remember the patch outside her window. Blanca had packed food for the journey.

  “What is it, Rafael?” Sonia asked. “You’re too quiet.”

  “Hmm?”

  “Are you mad that it’s me who is leaving?”

  Rafael sat up and smiled at her tenderly. “How can I be jealous when something good happens to my little sister? If it is good for you, I’m happy. You’re doing what you want to do.”

  Sonia looked into her hands.

  “You do want to go, don’t you?” he asked.

  “Of course,” she said. “I’m just . . . nervous. The capital is a big place.”

  “Ay, you’re like a bean. The first sight of boiling water, and you shrivel up in fear! I liked you better as an angel.”

  “I hate it when you make fun of me.”

  Rafael smiled and ran his fingers through his hair.

  “Hide the fear away in your pocket, will you?” he said. “What would you do here in Tres Montes, Sonia? We both know that not even a magic girl can fill stomachs with wind and spells. I love Papi, but he is completely wrong. Young people like us, we need more. Money, opportunities . . .”

  This was why she loved Rafael so dearly. He was the only one who told her the truth, the only one from whom she kept no secrets.

  “I’ll send as much money as I can,” she said earnestly. “Every penny that I don’t need. We’ll save for your truck.”

  Rafael began to speak, but then seemed lost in thought once again.

  “What?” she asked.

  “Nada, nada.”

  “Tell me,” she said, crossing to his bed. “You can’t hide things from me, remember?”

  He stood and peered out the window. “You will swear to silence? If not, I’ll find you and cut out your tongue,” he warned.

  Sonia rolled her eyes at his threat. They never told each other’s transgressions, although it was usually Sonia making excuses for why Rafael — often out carousing all night — was sleeping late.

  “How gallant of you to threaten a lady,” she said. “Say it, already. You know I’ll keep my word.”

  He leaned in and whispered in her ear.

  “I am leaving.”

  Sonia paused and arched her brow. It was impossible. The few men’s work permits were all gone now. The boys lucky enough to get one from Señor Arenas had left a month earlier; their lonely girlfriends had been at the party.

  “Liar.”

  Rafael looked into her face earnestly and waited. Slowly, she realized his meaning. She thought at once of Luis in his clean shirt and tie. Her stomach sank to her shoes. “Por Dios, don’t do something stupid.”

  “Since when is making money stupid? In a few months, I’ll earn what it would take me years to earn in the mines.”

  “It’s not the money! Luis died trying to make that crossing — just to find work.”

  “There are lots of ways to die,” he said quietly. “A mine can kill you, too.”

  “And what about bandits, Rafael? Or worse, the border guards? They don’t care who they shoot.”

  “They’re lousy shots.”

  “Be serious!”

  “It’s serious you want?” His face looked hard in a way that it almost never did. “Then here it is: I have no choice but to take the risk. What happens when Papi can’t work the mines? Then it’s up to me to feed us all. I don’t want to live my life like him, crawling through caves and coughing up dust while somebody else gets rich.”

  “He’ll never let you go.”

  “He won’t have a choice. I’ll be halfway there by the time he realizes I’m gone.”

  Sonia remembered her father’s booming voice the last time Rafael had dared to suggest leaving for work. Felix had been enraged.

  “You think Luis thought he would die this way? All of you young people think you know about the world, but you know nothing at all. Your good looks and hard work won’t earn you the mercy of strangers. To the rest of the world, you’re not anyone’s son. You’re just another hungry dog at their door.”

  Rafael read her mind as usual and encircled her in his arms.

  “Papi is so dramatic. But he’ll change his mind when our pockets are bulging and we can get him out of the mines.”

  Sonia shook her head. All she could imagine was her father staring at their empty beds. “It will kill him to have us both gone.”

  “I’m doing it for him, hermanita. Just like you, right?”

  Sonia fell silent. The truth was that she was leaving to free herself of her burdens. Rafael, on the other hand, had been thinking of how best to bear them. She felt ashamed for all the times she’d envied his carefree ways. In his heart, he’d been figuring out how to be a man all along.

  She leaned her head against his shoulder and sighed. “I want you to be safe.”

  “Pray to the wind, then,” he teased.

  “Stop it.”

  “I’ll be fine. I’ve got everything worked out. Now, promise me your silence,” he said, nudging her.

  “I promise,” she mumbled.

  “That’s a good sister. Oh! I almost forgot!” He reached into his shirt pocket and pulled out a delicate silver chain. “For you. So you can see I’m not cheap,” he said, smiling.

  Dangling on the end of the chain was a small charm in the shape of a large eye, the symbol for wisdom and clarity. The metal was thick and the workmanship flawless.

  “It’s beautiful, but look.” She dumped her pouch of metal trinkets. “More and more milagros. Even without my shawl! I’m supposed to bless everyone while I’m gone. What a headache!”

  He studied the pile and shrugged.

  “Well, this one is just for you. My wish is for you to be happy.” He fastened the necklace and walked her to the mirror. “The capital is a big place, hermanita, but you have a big heart and a big mind. Use them to find your path.”

  Sonia touched the pretty charm and held her brother tight.

  A tiny scratching sound outside interrupted them. Rafael went to the window, just in time to see someone disappearing into the trees.

  “¿Quién vá?”

  But it was too late. The visitor was gone.

  “Who could it have been?” Sonia asked.

  “I don’t know.” Rafael picked up what had been left at the windowsill. “But they were looking for you.”

  A small note was addressed to her in the perfect penmanship of a scholar. Rafael read over her shoulder and pinched her devilishly as Sonia blushed under her smile.

  “It looks as though I’m not the only one with midnight admirers,” he said.

  Good luck, Sonia, the note read. Here is a new story to keep you company on the journey. I will miss you more than you know. If you ever need anything, you know where to find me.

  Here there were several erasures. Sonia read the closing carefully, imagining his handsome face, the feel of his hand in hers.

  I will be thinking of you every day you are gone.

  Pancho Muñoz

  SONIA CLIMBED THE ladder of the passenger train in the fading afternoon light. Up close, it was a massive metal serpent, its blinding headlights glowing like eyes. Marco and his baggage clerk joked amiably as the other passengers boarded.

  A seat had been reserved for her by a window, where she would have spectacular views of the mountains they would cross to reach the capital. She looked out at the crowd and searched the faces of the boys milling about at Señor Pasqual’s taxi stand. She hoped Pancho would find the note she had dared to leave in his taxi’s basket. Perhaps it had been a mistake to be so bold. She looked worriedly at the bored boys. What if one of them found what she had written first? What if the note somehow found its way to her father’s hands?

&n
bsp; Instinctively, she felt in her pocket for Pancho’s story and for a small foil packet of her mother’s cookies. She checked again under her seat to be sure she had not tipped the other food containers. Blanca had packed enough to eat for the long journey.

  “Don’t get off the train for anything,” Tía Neli warned before kissing her niece on both cheeks. “Marco will leave you behind without a look back.” She peered out the window and gazed far along the tracks. Rafael was not to be found at the train station.

  “That brother of yours . . .” she muttered. “Whose arms is he in now?”

  All around, the other passengers were talking and arranging their bags beneath their seats. Sonia sat back, grateful that she looked like any ordinary traveler. Her hair was pulled into a pretty braid along her back, and she wore a plain blue skirt and linen blouse, impeccably ironed by Blanca. Tía Neli had even looped small gold hoops through her ears. Best of all, her shawl was hanging back home in the kitchen.

  She pulled out her traveling papers and reread the information carefully. Estación Punta Gorda would be their stop. She found it on Cuca’s map. It was a tiny star outside the big swath that Cuca had marked clearly with an X.

  At last Ramona, the most experienced of Señora Masón’s house staff, appeared. She carried a toddler on her hip as she made her way along the aisle. Though still a woman of only thirty, Ramona had been making this journey for at least a decade. Now she would leave behind her own son to serve as mother hen to three girls at Casa Masón. Sonia was to be her newest charge.

  “Sonia!” she called down the aisle. “I almost didn’t recognize you!”

  Ramona’s son, Manuel, squirmed, and she sat him in the empty seat beside Sonia. He looked disheveled, and sleep was still crusted in his eyes. As usual, he was clinging to his mother’s skirts.

  “Don’t be nervous, Sonia,” Ramona told her, sliding in beneath Manuel and bouncing him on her lap. “The ride is long but beautiful. We try to have fun and make the time go fast.” She turned her son’s face to Sonia. “Do you mind? A blessing? It would mean so much to his grandmother.”