Free Going Home by Nicholasa Mohr Page B

sports.”
    â€œHere we are.” Uncle Tomás pulled up in front of a house painted bright green with white and yellow trimming. I noticed that all the houses in the neighborhood were painted in two or three colors and had lots of flower pots on the porches. Inside Abuelo Juan’s house a chubby old lady wearing a large apron came over and started hugging everybody.
    â€œJust call me Abuela Angelina, or plain Abuela. I know I cannot take the place of your real grandmother, who is now in heaven”—Abuela Angelina made the sign of the cross—“may she rest in peace. But I am your other grandmother now, and I love you all because we are family.”
    â€œAngelina is a wonderful cook,” Abuelo said proudly. And something sure did smell delicious.
    Everybody sat down at a long table. In front of us were large platters filled with yellow rice, red beans, root plants with garlic and olive oil, fried fish, meat, avocado salad, all kinds of vegetables, and fresh bread.
    â€œYou can’t eat like this where you people come from.” Abuelo kept piling food on everybody’s plate. “This here is authentic Island food. One hundred percent Puerto Rican!” Everything tasted delicious.
    â€œPapa, I’m going to steal my sister away from you,” said Uncle Tomás.
    â€œOh, no, no sir.” Abuelo reached over and hugged Mami. “I’ve waited too long to see my daughter and her family, so you will just have to wait your turn.” It felt so nice being with all my new family. I knew they were not really new, but since I’d never met them before, it felt that way.
    â€œRosa, Alberto,” Abuelo suddenly said in a serious voice, “how come your children can hardly speak Spanish? Not so much Felita, she does all right. But the way the boys speak is a disgrace! Why didn’t you teach them the language of their parents and grandparents? Why?”
    Mami looked very upset. “Papa, it’s hard to teach the kids Spanish because everyone back in the States speaks English. Two languages would have only confused them. We wanted them to concentrate on their schoolwork, not on speaking Spanish. Besides—”
    â€œNonsense!” Abuelo interrupted Mami. “It wouldn’t have done no harm. Especially if you would have taught them in the home. I cannot understand how folks can leave here and then forget their language. It’s not right! I don’t like it!”
    Mami sat perfectly still with her head bowed. I could see she was feeling miserable. In fact she reminded me of myself when I got hollered at by her and Papi. I looked over at my brothers, but they kept their eyes lowered too. No one was saying a word and there was dead silence at the table.
    Finally Papi said, “Listen, Don Juan, sometimes things happen that we have very little control over, okay? But now we are doing something to remedy the situation. Johnny and Tito are studying Spanish in school and while they are in Puerto Rico, they can learn even more. As for Felita, by the time she gets back home after the summer, she’ll be talking Spanish like a parrot.”
    â€œVery good!” Abuelo stopped looking angry. “I’m glad, Alberto.” He looked at my brothers. “Now you two boys will begin to learn to speak Spanish properly like real Puerto Ricans and not like the gringos. Understand?”
    Johnny and Tito looked like they wanted to bolt right out of there. Was I glad for my lessons with Vinny! At least I could speak a whole lot better than my brothers.
    That evening I met so many relatives I never even knew I had, like all kinds of cousins, aunts, and uncles. Most of the grown-ups sat out in back talking. I could hear Mami’s laugh and Papi’s voice coming through all the other voices. The real little kids were inside watching T.V. Lina kept on following me around and babbling nonstop. I was beginning to feel like I was Consuela minding