Delia's Crossing (Delia 1)

The door was jerked open so hard the air nearly sucked me in and over the tray. She was standing there in her bra and panties.

“Jeez,” she cried. “I’m not deaf, you idiot. Put the tray on my desk,” she added, pointing to the desk.

I knelt down, picked up the tr

ay, and went to the desk. She gazed at herself in the mirror and fluffed her hair. I saw that her bra was tight, and the fat around the back of it rolled over and formed folds beneath as well. She had a roll of fat on her hips, and her rear end sagged over her heavy thighs. She spun around on me.

“What are you looking at?” she asked. “You’re not queer, are you?”

I shook my head. She was speaking too fast, and I didn’t understand the question.

“I’m sorry. I do not understand so well yet,” I said.

“Oh, jeez. How am I supposed to deal with someone who can’t speak English?” She smirked. “Edward says you’re our cousin. I think he’s just kidding me, right? You’re not really our cousin, are you?”

“Cousin. Oh, sí, prima, sí,” I said.

“I don’t believe it. My mother hasn’t said anything that stupid to me yet.”

She walked over to the tray, lifted the cover, and inspected the eggs.

“You can go,” she said, waving at the door. “Vamos or whatever you say. Go!”

I started out.

“Wait!” she screamed. I turned back. “This coffee is cold. The coffee,” she said, holding up the cup, “it’s cold…cold…what’s the word? Frío?”

I shook my head. I saw Mr. Herrera pour it into the container steaming hot. It couldn’t be cold.

“Don’t tell me. It’s cold. Get me hot coffee pronto…caliente.”

I went back, took the coffee container, and left her room. When I got back to the kitchen, I explained to Inez, who poured it into a cup and shook her head.

“We’ll teach her,” she said.

She poured the coffee into another container and put it into the microwave oven. The steam flowed up as she poured it into the container again, and I took it back upstairs quickly, practically running up.

Sophia had put a tight thin blouse over herself and was slipping into a skirt. She watched me bring the coffee to the desk, and then she poured it into a cup. The steam rose. She felt the cup and made a face.

“By the time this cools down, I’ll have to leave. Forget it,” she said.

I didn’t understand but figured from her gestures that she wasn’t going to drink the coffee now. I saw she had eaten everything on her plate. I picked up the tray, shrugged, and left.

“Right, just go,” she cried after me. “Idiot Mexican. How could you be our cousin?”

Idiot Mexican? You’re half Mexican, I thought, but imagined that, like her mother, she was in denial about it. Nevertheless, I smiled to myself and went downstairs. As soon as Sophia and Edward left for school, Señora Rosario was on me to go up and start cleaning Sophia’s room.

“Quickly,” she said. “Do it well but quickly. No daydreaming.”

“What would I dream of here?” I muttered. “Except to escape.” I thought I saw her smile.

The bathroom was in the same terrible condition I had found it in when I first tried to clean Sophia’s suite. This time, I did work faster, and I didn’t spend any time scrubbing down the shower stall or the floors. I turned my attention to her bedroom instead and began scooping up clothing and hanging things up in her closet. For a few moments, I was in a daze. I couldn’t believe how many blouses, skirts, pairs of pants, drawers of socks, undergarments, and shoes she possessed. There was more in this closet than in most stores in my Mexican village or even the bigger nearby villages.

Once the clothing was picked up, I turned to the bedding. When I took off the blanket, I was shocked to see the bloodstains on the sheet. Didn’t she know she was going to have a period or remember she was having one? Didn’t she care? For a moment, it nauseated me, and then I quickly ripped off the sheet. To my surprise, there was a rubber cover over the mattress. It was as if she was known to pee in her sleep as an infant might. I washed it down quickly, dried it, and put on a new sheet and new pillow cases. I was just finishing up when Señora Rosario came by to tell me I had ten minutes to go get myself some breakfast before I had to meet Señor Baker in the library.

She showed me where to put all the dirty laundry, and I hurried down to the kitchen. Laughter coming from the dining room made me pause. I glanced in and saw my aunt and her guest, the young man named Travis, at the table sipping their coffee. My aunt was still wearing her negligee under her red silk robe. The robe was open, and she was leaning so close to Travis their lips were just touching. She suddenly stopped and turned to the doorway, where she saw me gaping.

“How dare you spy on me!” she screamed. Travis laughed. “Get back to work!”