Tortilla Sun (13 page)

She smiled softly and asked about the truth catcher. When I told her it broke she pinched her eyebrows together.

“I’m really sorry. It was an accident,” I said.

“Yes. I know.” She paused for a moment. “Follow me. I will give you the chant.”

She handed me a folded piece of paper. “Would you like to hear the rest of the story now?”

“Maybe another time. I really have to go.”

I grabbed the paper and stepped toward the door. “Do you think he’ll know who I am?”

“He has always known you.”

Before she could say another word I flew out the door and ran home as fast as I could. My legs felt strong as I glided across the earth, up and down the hills, and through the trees. My long hair blew free in the wind and the sun kissed my smiling face.

That night after Maggie and Nana had gone to sleep, the house settled into a peaceful lull. I had told Maggie I didn’t want to sleep with her anymore and made a bed for myself on the sofa to make sneaking out easier. If she wanted Estrella so badly, then she could have it. I had more important things to think about.

The brilliant light of the full moon sat high above the canopy of trees. Close to midnight, I looked out the window, listening as the wind rustled through the leaves, inviting me outside.

Come, Bella.

I traced my fingers over the word
magic
on my baseball. “I’m going to need it tonight,” I whispered, tucking the ball into the large center pocket of my sweatshirt.

All the
santos
on the walls stared at me as I made my way through the house, and guilt sank in my gut like a raw piece of
tortilla
dough. Once I reached the back door, I eased it open and closed it carefully behind me. As I dashed toward the hammock, the wind began to howl, trees bowed, and lightning split the sky. My bravery melted away with each step.

What if something went wrong? I shook this thought from my mind. I had waited so long for answers that kept coming in pieces. By the time I reached Mateo I was out of breath.

“Are you all right?” he asked.

I nodded. “Yeah. Come on let’s go.”

“Izzy, maybe we should wait until after this storm.”

“I’m not waiting anymore. If you want to go back you can.”

Mateo shook his head. “No. I made a promise.”

We scuttled through the brush and over the rocks until we reached the winding river. But when we got to the
descanso
I remembered something from Socorro’s story.

“Socorro’s story said the chant has to be said over the water, remember?”

Mateo turned upstream. “The bridge.”

We ran toward the bridge as the wind continued to screech across the valley and thunder boomed across the sky. We didn’t have much time.

“The water is so high—are you sure it’s safe?” Mateo asked.

I nodded and turned toward the bridge. He caught me by the elbow. “Do you want me to go with you?”

“No. I need to do this part alone.”

He released my arm. “I’ll wait for you on the riverbank.”

The bridge hung only a foot or so above the water and swung back and forth as I walked toward the middle, balancing myself on the handrail of slick rope. The rushing waters splashed my feet, but I continued to the center of the bridge.

The full moon gave just enough light to see the water glimmering below as it rushed toward the ocean. When the bridge swung
back and forth in the wind I didn’t feel so brave anymore, but I had come too far to turn back.

I had already memorized the chant on the paper. I turned to the west, took a deep breath, and said, “Spirit of the west! Source of the sunset and death, the place of sorrow, and empty deserts. I call back what I have been called to let go.”

I turned to the east. “Spirit of the east! Source of the sunrise, and the place of beginnings. I call back—”

“Izzy?”

I turned toward Mateo standing on the riverbank only a few yards away.

“What!”

“Did you hear something? I think someone’s here.”

My insides began to tremble as rain plunged from the sky. “But I haven’t finished yet. He can’t be here already.”

Suddenly, Frida ran onto the bridge with Maggie right behind her.

“Maggie! What are you doing here?”

“I wanna talk to Gip and my mom. I heard you tell Mateo what you were gonna do and I wanna do it too.”

The anger that had settled deep into my gut exploded. “I can’t believe you followed us here. You ruin everything. Now go home!”

Mateo stood at the entrance of the bridge. “What’s gotten into you, Izzy? She can’t walk back alone in the dark. And it’s pouring. We have to go back.”

I pushed the rain from my eyes. “Why not? She managed to come here alone.”

“Come on, Maggie. I’ll walk you back,” Mateo shouted over the rain as he stepped onto the wet planks of wood.

“I don’t wanna go home. I wanna see Gip!”

Frida zigzagged around my legs, her gray fur standing up in dark, spiky peaks. My anger must have run all the way down to my feet because I jerked my leg forward and nearly kicked her into the river. Frida leapt back and flipped over the side of the bridge.

“Frida!” Maggie shouted.

Frida dangled off the bridge like a flailing fish on a hook, half her body clinging to the bridge, the other half dangling into the water. She clawed and scratched to save herself. When I lunged forward to pull her to safety, the bridge bent and swung dangerously as the wind howled across the night sky.

“Izzy, be careful!” Mateo shouted.

I tried to grab hold of the rope and balance myself. “Maggie, stand still. Don’t let go of the rope!”

I stretched toward Maggie with one hand, while securing myself with the other. Panic flashed in her eyes and I knew she
wasn’t listening to me. She let go of the rope and leaned down to save Frida. With a splash she fell into the water.

Her small voice cried out, “Izzy!”

Before I knew it, Maggie’s light yellow hair was swallowed by the dark currents of the Rio Grande and Frida was nowhere to be seen.

Without another thought, I jumped into the river. “Maggie!” The rush of the cold water pushed its way into my bones. From the corner of my eye I saw Mateo leap into the river too.

I tried to keep my head above the water, but the river danced to a strong, powerful beat and I bounced along like a skipping pebble, bumping my tailbone and legs against rocks and sharp branches. The rain was coming down fast and hard now and I couldn’t see where I was headed.

Darkness hugged the valley and joined in the river’s dangerous dance. “Mag—”

The water rushed into my mouth, sucking out the sweet summer air. Suddenly the river grew deeper and I plunged farther into the blackness.

I reached out for anything I could grab hold of. Memories of swimming in the ocean flashed across my mind. I remembered how the force of the crashing waves sent me tumbling. “Remain calm and let the force of the wave grow tired,” Mom always told me.

All of a sudden I felt a hand that must have been Maggie’s grab onto me and pull me farther under the water. I struggled to reach the air. The sky seemed so dark now and the harder I tried to reach for it, the deeper into the water I sank.

Dear God. Please help me. I thought about Mom and Dad. I didn’t want to die. Somehow I rose above the waterline, but as soon as I caught a breath, Maggie’s desperate little body climbed on top of me and shoved me back under. As my head felt fuzzy and my body grew faint, I began to imagine Nana’s kitchen.

I smelled the sweet, spicy scents floating from the oven; I heard the musical echoes of her laughter, and I saw streams of light dancing across her kitchen walls. The light grew brighter and Maggie’s grabbing arms were pulled away as I drifted closer to the glow all around me.

Just as I was about to let go of the fight, I felt cold hands surround my waist and push me up to the surface.

Mateo. He’d found me.

With each gulp of air, the radiance of the light faded. I felt the slow lapping of water and the sweet, easy motion of my body floating with the current. I lay still and let the force carry me safely to the water’s edge.

Then everything went black.

I opened my eyes slowly and lay still. My body wouldn’t move.

Images rippled across my mind; Nana’s orange and lavender scented hands combed through my hair, Mom floated beneath a waterfall. She called for me, but I couldn’t answer. Maggie looped her soft pinky around mine. Was I dead? Had the wind carried me to heaven?

“Batter up!” a man’s voice called out.

The world as I knew it had fallen away. I blinked twice and suddenly found myself standing next to home plate with a bat in my hand. Men in baseball uniforms spread out across the field and on each base. A crowd cheered in the stands behind me.

The first ball rifled past my waist. I winced. “Striiiike!” the umpire’s voice called out.

A small thrill ran up my spine. I knew I could hit the next one. Gripping the bat, I inched closer to home plate.

A voice behind me whispered, “Hey, if you’re gonna hit the ball, you have to step up and take the swing. Don’t hold on so tight. Let the bat ease into your hands.”

I looked over my shoulder at the catcher. Wasn’t he on the other team? Shaking my head, I propped the bat over my right shoulder and bent my knees.

“Relax. Step up and take the swing,” he said.

The next ball whirred by. I didn’t even see it coming.

The catcher stood and leaned forward. “The ball comes at different speeds—never the same pitch twice. You can’t really be prepared for what you’re going to get.” He squatted and punched his mitt. “The key is to keep your eyes on the ball the whole time.”

I nodded.

“And then hit it with everything you’ve got.” He pointed to the twinkling lights. “Aim for the stars.”

Something inside urged me forward. I stepped beside home plate and focused intently on the pitcher. Above him, the first stars appeared against the last light of day like little white shadows. I squinted one eye and pointed the bat to the brightest star I could find.

Thunderous cheers rose from the crowd.

I settled into a batter stance, my eyes narrowed, my heart determined. The ball came slow this time, but curved at the last second. Time slowed and the ball rotated and twisted before me. Wait. Wait. Wait.
Smash!

Shocked, I stood unmoving as I watched the ball fly toward the star.

“Run!” The catcher pushed me toward first base.

I threw the bat to the ground and sprinted. As I rounded first base and dashed past second, cheers erupted from the crowd. My feet slammed the ground, creating clouds of dirt. My lungs hurt. As I turned third, I could see the ball falling down from the heavens.

I pushed my legs, forcing them to move even though they screamed to stop. Home plate was only a few feet away. I threw my body down and slid toward the base. Just as my fingers swept the edges, the ball crashed into the dirt field. A great light blinded me. The crowd and players evaporated, like water on hot cement.

Dust choked my throat and masked my eyes. I rose to my feet and blinked twice. The moon hung high in the sky and silence embraced the field.

“Good game,” a voice said.

I spun around. The catcher stood before me. He slowly peeled back the mask. I saw his smile first, and then his eyes. The same as mine.

A hundred church bells sounded in my ears. “Dad?”

He nodded. “I’ve been waiting for you.” He reached for my hand and smiled. Soft lines formed around his eyes. “You sure can smack a ball.”

As I blinked, dizzy and confused, he walked me toward a bench in the middle of the ball field and we sat beneath the stars. I settled against the smooth wooden bench and clasped my hands together, trying to make sense of what had to be a dream. I forced the words from my mouth. “Have I gone to heaven?”

He threaded his hair with his fingers. “It’s a little closer to Earth than heaven. It’s a visiting place.”

“This baseball field?”

“It’s different for everyone.”

I felt the weight of his stare.

“Do you … like it here?”

Folding his arms across his chest he leaned back. “I’d rather be with you.”

Running my hand along the edge of the bench a splinter got caught in my skin. “Me too.”

I poked at the splinter. “Why did Mom keep you from me?”

He touched my shoulder lightly. “She was only trying to protect you.”

“From what?” I said turning my face to him. “From you?”

“She didn’t want you to feel her kind of pain. She wanted things to be easier for you.”

“But nothing has been easy. Why couldn’t she just tell me?”

He stroked my hair lightly. “Maybe sending you to New Mexico was her way of sharing the truth. Maybe it was a story she just couldn’t tell herself. But a story for you to discover.”

Could he be right? Had Mom sent me to the village to learn the truth? Was this her way of finally sharing the answers to all my questions? Is that why she told Nana to go slowly and wondered if I’d forgive her? In that moment it was like all the broken pieces had been glued together. The summer night air warmed me and I knew he was right. I was tired of carrying all that anger and confusion.

I reached into my sweatshirt pocket and handed him the baseball. “I’m glad you left this behind.”

He smiled staring at the words. “I hit the most important home run of my life with this ball.”

“What happened?”

“Your mom married me because of this.” He tossed me the ball. “Ask her to tell you the story.”

“But she won’t.”

“I think things will be different now.” He winked at me and grinned. “Tell her you know the missing words.”

“I do?”

He leaned over and whispered. “Because love is magic.”

“Love.” I repeated the word softly. It seemed so simple now. I thought about what Nana had said about magic and how it meant special and enchanting. How sometimes you can’t see it but you can feel it.

“Batter up!” A voice boomed from a loudspeaker.

Dad turned toward home plate. “I have to go now.” Gently, he swept my hair from my face.