Delia's Crossing (Delia 1)

“My cousin Sophia gave it to me,” I told him. “She wants to be my friend now.”

His lips folded into a half-smile of skepticism. I remembered what Sophia wanted to know.

“Where is your home exactly?”

He gave me his address and quickly added, “I must tell you about mi abuela who lives with us. She is originally from San Cristóbal de las Casas and still holds on to some beliefs you might find strange. She forgets where she is now. She might ask you what animal is your spiritual double.”

“What is that?”

“Funny belief,” he said, “the belief that the animal shares your destiny.”

“If any animal shares my destiny, I feel sorry for that animal.”

He laughed. “Tell her your double is a margay. She likes that.”

“A margay? It is like a spotted cat. Do I remind you of a cat?”

He laughed. “She favors cats and is especially fond of the margay. Do you know about San Cristóbal? It’s in the state of Chiapas, and the tribes all speak languages derived from the Mayan.”

“I’m ashamed to say I don’t know anything about them or as much of Mexican history as I should.”

“Don’t be. I wouldn’t know it if it weren’t for my grandmother. But don’t let anyone here make you feel ashamed. Just listen to the gringos when they talk about their own past,” he continued. “They know just as little about their own history. They are richer, more powerful than we are, but they are not better.”

“I never said they were, Ignacio.”

He nodded, and I thought it was this chip on his shoulder, this underlying anger, that had made him reluctant about learning English.

“Perhaps we can help them,” I said, smiling, “by giving them some of our rich culture. We are older.”

Finally, he laughed.

“I look forward to the fiesta very much. I miss the ones I so enjoyed at home,” I told him.

His eyes sparkled with delight, and we returned to class. At the end of the day, Señor Garman was there with the Rolls-Royce. He was standing the same way, eyeing everything and everyone as the school population emerged. Ignacio, who had walked me out, gazed at him suspiciously.

“He does look like a bodyguard,” he said. “I thought your aunt was not sympathetic with your problems here. Why is she now so concerned about protecting you? Were there other threats?”

“No, no. She wants to protect herself,” I said.

He tilted his head with confusion. “Herself?”

“Her good name.”

“Oh. Yes, I understand.” He thought a moment and then said, “I hope she won’t be upset to see me drive up in my father’s old truck.”

“She won’t be upset; she’ll cover her eyes,” I told him, and he laughed again. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

I hurried to the car.

“How is Edward, Señor Garman? The operation on his eyes. It was good?”

“No one tells me nothing,” he said, opening the door.

I got in quickly. Ignacio was still standing there looking our way. He lowered his head and walked off just before Señor Garman drove away. Behind us, I could see some of the students chattering about me and laughing.

I did pity my spiritual animal double.

Sophia was already home when I arrived. She was sitting in the living room across from Tía Isabela, who was sipping a glass of white wine. I spotted another letter from Grandmother Anabela left for me on the entryway table and quickly scooped it up. Then I stepped into the living room.