Free It's Just Lola by Dixiane Hallaj Page B
Authors: Dixiane Hallaj
the open foyer when she returned. He motioned to the chair Enriqueta had brought for Rosa. Grateful for his insight, Lola sat . That solved the chaperone problem.
“ Señorita Lola, can you and Señorita Enriqueta attend Pepe’s funeral tomorrow?” He glanced toward the top of the stairs. “If Señorita Enriqueta isn ’ t strong enough, could you still come?”
“Tomorrow? Why so soon? Does he...” she wrinkled her nose.
“No. He ’ s probably been dead for two years. There was nothing but bones and bleached rags of clothing.”
“ Then h ow do you know it ’ s Pepe?”
“From the hat, mainly .” Lola remembered Pepe’s hat. The brim slanted down and covered most of his face , unlike the hats of the other Cholos .
“Shouldn’t you wait for Papa?”
“The men ’ re uncomfortable waiting. They want the prayers said and holy water sprinkled on the grave as soon as possible. They ’ re afraid that Pepe...is not at rest. Pep e had no relatives, and no close friends. T he family ought to be represented.”
“ Won’t Jacoba be there?” asked Lola. Juan just looked at her. “What about Victoria or Amelia?” Juan’s silence answered her second question as well .
“ Of course w e’ll go.”
“Thank you.”
There was a short ceremony in the family chapel the next morning, attended by the girls, the house servants, Juan and six workers , who were standing stiffly at the back of the chapel. Jacoba , wearing a veil, came in and took a seat after the priest began speaking. The six men carried the coffin out to the far end of the family cemetery, followed by the small group of mourners.
“Let us pray,” intoned the priest. Lola looked up as a stiff breeze presaged a summer shower. Jacoba’s hand went up to grab at her veil, but not before Lola saw a huge purple bruise on her cheek. Lola quickly looked down at her clasped hands, hoping that Jacoba’s swollen eye had not seen her glance. So that was why Jacoba refused to leave her room.
~ ~ ~
Lola woke to the sound of her father’s voice outside her door. She sat up, intending to go to him and tell him how glad she was that he had returned safely. By the time she had her shawl around her shoulders, she realized her father and Pilar were in a heated, if quiet, discussion. She sat to wait until they finished.
“...I ’ ve always considered myself a small part of this family, but if this is the way you treat family, I can’t live here anymore. Find a new cook.”
“You dare speak to me like that?”
“Yes, I dare. One week. Those poor lambs are the only family I have now, and we both know whose fault that is.”
“Don’t talk about ancient history. Your husband knew the penalty for taking advantage of an innocent girl. I did what I had to do . I had him carried home to be stitched after the gelding. You should thank me for ridding you of the cheating bastard.” Lola recoiled in spite of herself at hearing her father use such language.
“My husband was a strong man, Patrón. He preferred death to liv ing without his manhood. By the time the men were able to hold him, the life had bled out of him. But we both know that my husband was neither the first nor the last man to have appetites he couldn’t control. He was neither the first nor the last man to cheat on a loving wife who forgave him all things.”
“Watch your tongue, woman, you tread in dangerous territory.” The sound of her father’s icy voice sent a shiver through Lola.
“ One week ,” said Pilar again . Lola heard the sound of footsteps retreating. She went back to bed and feigned sleep when Pilar returned and sat by the bed.
Lola stayed very still for a long time, listening as Pilar wept quietly in the dark. The conversation she had overheard filled her with questions —about herself and Enriqueta, about Pilar’s husband, about what her father had done while away.
“ Señorita Lola, can you and Señorita Enriqueta attend Pepe’s funeral tomorrow?” He glanced toward the top of the stairs. “If Señorita Enriqueta isn ’ t strong enough, could you still come?”
“Tomorrow? Why so soon? Does he...” she wrinkled her nose.
“No. He ’ s probably been dead for two years. There was nothing but bones and bleached rags of clothing.”
“ Then h ow do you know it ’ s Pepe?”
“From the hat, mainly .” Lola remembered Pepe’s hat. The brim slanted down and covered most of his face , unlike the hats of the other Cholos .
“Shouldn’t you wait for Papa?”
“The men ’ re uncomfortable waiting. They want the prayers said and holy water sprinkled on the grave as soon as possible. They ’ re afraid that Pepe...is not at rest. Pep e had no relatives, and no close friends. T he family ought to be represented.”
“ Won’t Jacoba be there?” asked Lola. Juan just looked at her. “What about Victoria or Amelia?” Juan’s silence answered her second question as well .
“ Of course w e’ll go.”
“Thank you.”
There was a short ceremony in the family chapel the next morning, attended by the girls, the house servants, Juan and six workers , who were standing stiffly at the back of the chapel. Jacoba , wearing a veil, came in and took a seat after the priest began speaking. The six men carried the coffin out to the far end of the family cemetery, followed by the small group of mourners.
“Let us pray,” intoned the priest. Lola looked up as a stiff breeze presaged a summer shower. Jacoba’s hand went up to grab at her veil, but not before Lola saw a huge purple bruise on her cheek. Lola quickly looked down at her clasped hands, hoping that Jacoba’s swollen eye had not seen her glance. So that was why Jacoba refused to leave her room.
~ ~ ~
Lola woke to the sound of her father’s voice outside her door. She sat up, intending to go to him and tell him how glad she was that he had returned safely. By the time she had her shawl around her shoulders, she realized her father and Pilar were in a heated, if quiet, discussion. She sat to wait until they finished.
“...I ’ ve always considered myself a small part of this family, but if this is the way you treat family, I can’t live here anymore. Find a new cook.”
“You dare speak to me like that?”
“Yes, I dare. One week. Those poor lambs are the only family I have now, and we both know whose fault that is.”
“Don’t talk about ancient history. Your husband knew the penalty for taking advantage of an innocent girl. I did what I had to do . I had him carried home to be stitched after the gelding. You should thank me for ridding you of the cheating bastard.” Lola recoiled in spite of herself at hearing her father use such language.
“My husband was a strong man, Patrón. He preferred death to liv ing without his manhood. By the time the men were able to hold him, the life had bled out of him. But we both know that my husband was neither the first nor the last man to have appetites he couldn’t control. He was neither the first nor the last man to cheat on a loving wife who forgave him all things.”
“Watch your tongue, woman, you tread in dangerous territory.” The sound of her father’s icy voice sent a shiver through Lola.
“ One week ,” said Pilar again . Lola heard the sound of footsteps retreating. She went back to bed and feigned sleep when Pilar returned and sat by the bed.
Lola stayed very still for a long time, listening as Pilar wept quietly in the dark. The conversation she had overheard filled her with questions —about herself and Enriqueta, about Pilar’s husband, about what her father had done while away.