Free Nilda by Nicholasa Mohr Page B

after, like a delivery boy sometimes, and he gives us what he can.”
    â€œYou also have an aunt living with you. Does she help?”
    â€œNo, she’s an older woman and she has a relief check, but it’s very little, and she can only spare for food and medicine. You see, she’s also hard of hearing and—”
    â€œOkay,” she interrupted. “How is your health, Mrs. Ramírez?”
    â€œI’m fine. Okay.”
    â€œCan’t you find some employment?”
    â€œI got a lot of people to care for and small children I cannot leave.”
    Nilda realized that she was tired of standing. Looking at the woman, Nilda saw her write something each time she asked another question. Her fine grey mesh hair net came down over her forehead and stopped abruptly at the spot where her eyebrows should be. Nilda carefully strained her eyes, focusing on that spot, looking for her eyebrows, but the woman didn’t seem to have any. Her skin was very pink, with a variety of brownishfreckles that traveled on her hands, arms and neck, giving her skin the look of a discolored fabric. She wore a light beige dress with a starched white collar. On her right hand she wore a silver wristwatch and two silver rings. Nilda thought, she looks tightly sealed up. Like a package, only you can’t see the wrapping because it’s like see-through cellophane.
    â€œHow many rooms in your apartment?”
    â€œWe got six rooms.” They went on talking and Nilda felt her legs getting heavy under her and a sleepiness begin to overtake her.
    â€œLet me see your hands! Wake up, young lady! Let me see your hands!” Startled, Nilda saw that Miss Heinz was speaking to her. Extending her arms and spreading out her fingers, she showed the woman her palms.
    â€œTurn your hands over. Over, turn them over. Let me see your nails.” Nilda slowly turned over her hands. “You have got filthy nails. Look at that, Mrs. Ramírez. She’s how old? Ten years old? Filthy.” Impulsively, Nilda quickly pushed her hands behind her back and looked down at the floor.
    â€œWhy don’t you clean your nails, young lady?” Nilda kept silent. “How often do you bathe?” Still silent, Nilda looked at her mother. She wanted to tell her to make the woman stop, but she saw that her mother was not looking her way; instead she was staring straight ahead.
    â€œCat got your tongue?” Miss Heinz asked. “Why doesn’t she answer me, Mrs. Ramírez?”
    Without turning her head, her mother said, “Nilda, answer the lady.”
    â€œI take a bath when I need it! And I clean my nails whenever I feel like it!” Nilda exploded in a loud voice.
    â€œNo need to be impertinent and show your bad manners, young lady.”
    â€œNilda!” Her mother turned around and looked at her. “Don’t be fresh! Stop it!” Looking at Miss Heinz she said, “I’m sorry.”
    â€œThat’s quite all right, Mrs. Ramírez, I understand. Children today are not what they used to be. Young lady, you are no help to your mother. I hope you’re proud of yourself.”
    Bending over, Miss Heinz moved her head, shaking the lumps of ringlets as she opened the center drawer of her desk. She searched around, moving paper clips, pencils, index cards wrapped in a rubber band, and finally pulled out a small shiny metal nail file. Holding it up in front of Nilda, she said, “Now, Miss, this is for you. I want you to take this home with you so that you have no more excuse for dirty nails. This,” and she shook the small shiny silver file, “is a nail file. Have you ever seen one before?”
    Still sulking, Nilda answered, “Yes, I know what it is.”
    â€œGood! Here, you may take it,” she said, smiling as she handed the nail file to Nilda, who did not move.
    â€œTake it!” her mother said. Nilda reached over and took the metal file. Miss Heinz looked at