Chapter Three
When Mariangela wakes up the next morning, the first image in her mind is Fernando?s face. As the morning progresses, she tries to ignore her parents? too-happy smiles, their too-eager words; she tries not to look at Olalla.
She smiles broadly at her hugs and kisses and her birthday wishes from her family, she rips open presents. She was finally eighteen, it's her birthday, nothing can ruin this day.
Except Fernando?s face which had apparently glued itself in her mind. So she tries to ignore him, too.
?Happy birthday, chiquita!? Olalla says, grabbing Mariangela around the waist and twirling her around. ?Wow, you?re finally eighteen!?
Laughing, Mariangela manages to get away. ?Finally?? she asks, pulling away from her sister tugging at her curls.
It was a happy morning ? a bit too happy. Mariangela sighs at her family?s attitudes. She knows how hard this is for them. But today is her birthday. She isn?t going to let anything ruin it.
She goes to her lectures and classes at the University as usual, and politely greets more too-eager and too-happy faces, their birthday wishes and presents. And that was all. The other students often didn?t know what to say to her, so they kept their distance, save for a few.
The day passes quickly. She sits through her classes as usual, the professors rambling on and on as usual, her peers? desperate attempts to forget there was anything wrong with her as usual. And Fernando?s face still crystal clear in her mind.
At the end of her last class for the day, she takes her time leaving. There is no need to rush. She knows no one would be home this early, they were all still at work.
She leaves the large campus, heading outside the gates and walks to her bus stop.
And waiting for her at the bus stop is Fernando.
Mariangela almost stops walking, thinking it was another hallucination. But no, he really was standing there, that infectious smile still on his face, a ball tucked under his arm. She can?t help herself, her face lights up as soon as she sees him. She slowly walks up to him, her mind a jumbled mess, trying to find something to say, but there are too many words cramming her brain which makes it difficult to say anything at all.
?What are you doing here?? she asks, smiling up at him.
?I came for a kick,? he says, holding up his ball, ?but this bus stop seemed more interesting.? His chocolate eyes are sparkling.
She wants to say something, to make him laugh again, not wanting his words to linger awkwardly between them in the hot air. ?Oh,? she says quietly, mentally kicking herself at her pathetic response.
?Happy birthday,? he grins broadly, his eyes lighting up, her knees melting, her insides melting.
?Thank you,? she replies happily, ignoring the mush inside her. ?How did you know I?d be here??
?Your father mentioned last night which university you went to, and since it was close to your house I took a chance you?d catch the bus.?
Mariangela laughs, unable to suppress her happiness. ?Thank you,? she repeats, her eyes bright and happy.
After the bus drops them off at the stop they had met at yesterday, Mariangela thinks she'll just about burst from happiness.
They continue to talk easily, Mariangela trying to overcome her little girl awkwardness, cursing her timidity, not wanting the afternoon to end, not wanting Fernando to leave, wondering how to tell him, knowing she couldn?t.
She wants to ask Fernando about Olalla, but can?t find the words, the strength.
They fall silent as they walk languidly under the summer heat.
?Listen, Mariangela, about yesterday...? Fernando starts, much to her relief. ?I?m sorry about what happened with Olalla... Olalla and I ? I didn?t know she was your sister. We had met, but nothing ??
?I know. Don?t worry about it, you don?t need to explain.? She cuts in, relieved that he had brought it up.
?I?m sorry if...? he pauses, ?I?m sorry if I upset you or anything.?
?Not at all. Why would I... don?t worry about it. She had told me about you. She and you...? Mariangela stops. She wants to tell him she really is alright with it, that everything was absolutely fine, but gets stuck on her words.
They continue to walk in silence. She can feel Fernando glancing at her every once in a while, and tries not to let it get to her. They stop at a little café for a drink and sit at a table under the shade of two looming trees.
?Mariangela,? Fernando says after his cappuccino came, ?Olalla and I aren?t serious. I?ll tell her that ??
?No!? she says loudly, her eyes widening, her heart pulsating. ?No,? she repeats more quietly, but no less adamant. ?Fernando, you can?t. She?s my older sister... you can?t, we can?t... don?t you understand?? she looks into his quizzical face, and what was that in his eyes?
?She?s my only sister,? she says gently, wanting to look away from his eyes but can?t. ?And she?s serious about you, Fernando. She really likes you. I can?t do that to her.?
She doesn?t want to say anymore, her throat hurts, her head hurts. But he doesn?t look happy, so she continues to ramble on. She's afraid of his eyes, of her feelings. Afraid. ?There will be others,? she says, almost choking as she looks down at her latte. ?There will be other boys, later on I guess. But I will never have another sister.?
She wants to tell him everything, everything that was haunting her and everything that she was dreading, but not finding the strength, especially when his eyes weren?t warm like now.
?Mariangela ?? Fernando frowns, his own voice adamant, but Mariangela, dumbstruck, persists.
?You like her don?t you??
Fernando's voice is quiet. ?Well, yeah but ??
?Then it?s settled,? Mariangela intervenes again, looking away. ?There?s no reason to talk about it.?
What is she saying? She wants to take her words back, she wants Fernando to smile and laugh again, she doesn?t want him to be upset. That was the last thing she wanted to say.
?No,? he sighs heavily, his eyes not leaving her face, ?I guess not.?
Mariangela tries not to let it affect her. She wants to do the right thing. She has to do the right thing. She couldn?t succumb to these confusing feelings just for her own benefit, she has no idea what was happening to her.
She ignores her confused heart. Because she knows deep down she could never step on her sister?s heart, not when she knew how much her sister liked Fernando, and especially not when she knew what her own future held.
Somehow she manages to get through lunch with him. Somehow she manages to hide how she pretends to have her heartbeat under control. She wishes she could take all her words back.
The rest of the walk back is quiet. They stop at the corner before her street, and Fernando just stands, looking at her.
She dreads the awkward silence hanging between them in the humid air, dreading his silence, wanting to see his smiling face again.
?Fernando, do you want to ??
?No, I have to go,? he cuts in. ?I?ll see you, Mariangela.?
She nods slowly. ?Alright.? She wants to ask him when, dreading going inside her empty house, not wanting to leave his comforting presence, dreading her aching heart, her fear.
With a heavy heart she slowly makes her way around the corner and into her empty house, feeling Fernando?s eyes on her back every step of the way.
That night, her family takes her out to dinner to a fancy restaurant in the middle of the lit up, alive city. They never ate out at restaurants, and going to such a sophisticated establishment is definitely new to her.
She watches her animated family members, all energetic and talking loudly and laughing loudly and gesturing wildly with their hands. She watches them, almost feeling dizzy as they pull her towards their cyclone of radiant and glowing words and laughs and stories.
Come, Mariangela, come they say, join us again; join the land of the living. Come back to us.
All throughout the night she lets her mind wander, allowing herself to be pulled into the happy and glowing circle of everyone surrounding her, enjoying this special time with her beloved family.
All throughout the night she smiles and laughs and jokes with all of them, and all throughout the night she listens to a fervent Olalla talk about Fernando, Fernando, and Fernando.
And Fernando.
Nothing but Fernando.
All she hears is Fernando?s deep, placid voice. And then all she sees is Fernando?s smiling, breathtaking face. And then Fernando?s hurt eyes, disappointed face, questioning gaze. All she wants is to forget about Fernando, but she can?t not think about what had happened earlier in the afternoon.
So she stretches her mouth into something that resembles a smile, a flash of her teeth, a curve of her lips, setting her teeth and drowning in her sister?s words flowing freely out of her mouth like an endless, vigorous river swarming over her.
And pushes Fernando?s face away from her mind, because this moment right now, this moment with her family is more important. Because she doesn?t know how many more moments like these she?s going to get, so she cherishes it with every fibre of her being for what it was worth.
And because picturing his face fixated in her mind is too painful, especially when Olalla is sitting right next to her, barely centimetres away, although it feels like Olalla is practically hovering on top of her, drowning her, surrounding her. On top of her.
She smiles and laughs with them, when really inside is just a big tumbled mess of wracked nerves, when really she feels like screaming.
They ask her if she?s alright, she?s fine she replies, another curve of an intact smile, another flash of teeth, another false gleam of her eyes.
?Are you okay?? Olalla whispers as everyone else around them continue to talk and laugh and celebrate joyously.
Mariangela wishes she had a camera to take a photo, a beautiful photo to capture the glowing, happy faces of all her loved ones, a photo to capture this precious moment, just one still moment that will make her peaceful, seeing all those around her happy. Really and truly happy - and not that anguished kind of feeling happy, that happy that forced them to smile and act as if they?re fine and their faces aren?t a reflection of her own.
Genuinely, blissfully happy. She wishes she could be that happy again. She?d give anything to be that happy again, without a care, without worries, without fears. To just be happy like a child is at Christmas upon seeing all the presents from Santa stacked under the tree.
She wants to take a photo within her mind, to store it in there permanently, etch it in there so she would never forget what happy looks like, what her family looks like when they?re happy.
?Yeah,? she smiles. She really is happy. Because everyone else around her finally is. How could she not be happy when their faces are beaming and that wonderful sound of laughter is rolling off their tongues and breaking the pressure that is increasing around her, in her, against her.
?Yeah. I'm happy, Olalla. How can I not be??
?The doctor called today,? Mama says later on that night when it was just the four of them sitting in their little lounge room.
?What did he say?? Mariangela asks, tracing the floral pattern of the tablecloth with her finger mindlessly.
?Wanted to know why you didn?t show up.?
?And what did you tell him, mama?? she sighs, sitting back in her chair.
?I told him you weren?t feeling well. And he told me to tell you to call him tomorrow, he said it was urgent, so Mariangela I don?t care what you say. You are going to call him.?
?Si, mama.? She gets up and goes to her room, the tears slowly trickling down her face.
She lays down on her bed and tries to sleep. But nightmares fill her thoughts, her dreams, just like they had every night for the past year or so. Bits and pieces of that dreaded conversation filter in and out of her tired mind, her tired body.
She?s sick...it?s a type of cancer...it?s called leukaemia, they said.
Honey, you?ll be fine, don?t worry, mama said.
We?re sorry to tell you this...has progressed rapidly...we?re not sure what we will be able to do, they said.
Am I going to die mama, she asked.
Of course not, Mari don?t think such stupid thoughts...what...what?s the matter, doctor?
Not sure... how much time is left...cancer, it?s a killer disease...abnormal blood cells...progressed rapidly through your body...
I told you mama...
No! No. There must be some mistake...surely...she can?t die, can she doctor, oh my god, please tell me it?s not a possibility, her mama whispered fiercely, her hushed words snaking their way through the air and into Mariangela?s ears no matter how low she kept her voice.
Not sure at this stage...we?re sorry, senora, we?re so sorry, they said. Yes, they were sorry, she could see the way their brows were creased, she could see the awkward jerk of their lips.
We?re sorry, they said. But sorry won?t make me better. They?re just fake words of comfort. Fake fake fake. Everyone will tell us sorry. Then they?ll sell us the coffin. And everyone?s happy.
I?m going to die, mama.
Mariangela, if you don?t be quiet this minute... no puede ser...oh mi Dios... her mama said, covering her face with her hands.
Trying to still her restless mind, she is slowly lulled into a fitful sleep, curled up into a ball, the moon shining above her head, the tightening against her chest getting tighter and tighter.
But her mind?s images slowly drift from the doctor?s words and her mama?s tears and her numb self. Slowly the blackened images evaporate, her dreams twisting into Fernando?s sparkling eyes and millions and millions of freckles and his beautiful mouth, and she's at peace, and she sleeps happily.
But then they too evaporate, taking the form of the day they had met, Mariangela licking her ice cream as Fernando?s ball came bouncing towards her. Fernando meeting her family, and then Olalla, seeing Olalla with Fernando. And then her peace, too, evaporates, and the blackened darkness comes back again, a thick black, invisible veil covering her.
Guilt comes and takes over instead, guilt for these sudden feelings that were overwhelming her, feelings that she shouldn't be feeling.
The guilt nestles itself comfortably into her already restless mind and body, refusing to leave. And stays there.
