They’re Looking for Us
by Lourdes Vázquez
Translation by Jennifer Edwards
“Who invented fear?”
Lilia starts sipping tequila early in the morning. Tired, sleepy, she picks up the glass with her fingers, stretches out on the sofa and slowly drinks a clear but thick tequila. Who invented fear? What is it good for except to keep us stranded in the density of mercury-colored water?
“You’re still lying there? Don’t you know that we have to pack? Don’t you realize that it’s almost time?”
“I know, Antonio, I know. We have to pack up everything. Give up the apartment, the beds, the books, the paintings, the odds and ends I’ve picked up from so many trips, the children’s toys.”
“It’s your fault. It’s your stupidity that got us in this mess.”
Lilia didn’t get up. She drank and drank all morning and into the afternoon until the kids got home from school.
“Kids, we have to pack. We have to rush out of here, but your mother’s here. Undaunted.”
“Mommy, we’ll help you pack. I want to bring my toys. I don’t care about my clothes. We can buy new clothes, but I need the toys. Plus, we have to bring Motita.”
That night Antonio cooked a shrimp stew with fried plantain. The kids went to bed with satisfied bellies. Lilia went with them and curled up on the mattress on the floor. Why do we have to flee? No one understands. We live in the country of the forsaken. Of the alone. Of the isolated. Without embassies, without diplomatic missions, without passports, without international aide. Lilia got up, walked down the hall, opened the door and went outside. The stars were exploding in the firmament and an owl was urgently calling his lover.
“She’s an idiot. She’s left. It’s the only thing she knows how to do.”
The temperature was still comfortable. She walked along the flagstones of the old quarter of the city. She saw the usual prostitutes on the usual street corner, she noticed crazy Millo picking trash out of the garbage cans, she observed as many televisions turned on as there were houses. Lilia thought she saw a man following her. She walked for a long time and arrived at the lagoon. There she gazed at the stone dog still waiting for his master. Once again, she came across the same man, in front of her this time. Two tourists holding hands enjoyed the light of the street lamps, the waves, the breeze, the droning of the sea. She stayed there for a long time, until there was nothing left to gaze at and a man’s voice brought her back to reality.
“What are you watching so intensely? Who was the donor who gave you those beautiful eyes?”
Lilia turned around and an impeccable man took her by surprise.
“From the balcony of my apartment you get a fuller view of the horizon.” He said with a strong accent.
“I’d love to see it.”
Without another word, the man took her hand.
They walked to a nearby condominium, taking the elevator. At dawn, Lilia returned to her apartment and curled up with the children in one of their beds.
“You’re here. I thought you had stayed out all night.”
“No. I took a walk because I needed to think. Why do we have to go? To where? I’m so tired of having to leave this once more, of having to leave everything behind again, of hiding, of fleeing and also avoiding those who don’t want to see us, those who don’t want anything to do with us.”
“We have to go. You know it. It’s part of having been born here. Everyone has to. Everyone leaves. Some because they can’t find work, others because they’re tired of going to funerals for their gunned down children, others because their families are leaving in search of work. They feel alone. Others have dossiers on them, secret files, they’re beaten, hunted down and then they leave before going crazy. And there are others, the stupidest, those who confront the government.”
“And how did I get in trouble with the government?”
“You know how you do it, Lilia.”
The doorbell startled them.
“Who is it?”
“It’s Remedios The Beautiful, honey. Open up!”
And the door was opened.
Lilia leapt towards Remedios and covered him in kisses.
“Lilia, honey. Silly as ever. I’ve come to your rescue. Here you have your Remi, in the flesh. Sorry for not having come before, but I’ve been so busy, so very busy with my Santos. Actually, I’ve taken up your case with them and your cover’s blown, sweetheart. You’re screwed. Alright then, let’s pack, and the kids? Sleeping, I imagine. Well, your girlfriend Remi here has brought breakfast. Espresso for everyone, a loaf of fresh bread with ham and cheese from the sweetshop. Am I Our Lady of Providence, or what? I just love playing the role of a nun with balls between her legs.”
Remedios The Beautiful took her hands in his and examined her up and down.
“You look terrible.”
“Thanks a lot, and how are you doing?” Lilia replied.
“How do you think I am? You know very well, worried sick about you is how I am,” answered Remi. “You look like you haven’t slept all night and Arturo doesn’t look so good either.”
“You know how Arturo is.”
“I’m going to look at the news,” exclaimed Lilia.
She went to curl up on the sofa with her cup of coffee in her hand. She looked for the remote, turned on the television and changed channels. Just in time to see a photo on the screen: “The man was found dead this morning. He apparently suffered a heart attack, although it is suspected that the attack was induced. The man had been on the island for some time as part of a trade delegation from his country. The guard at the hotel indicated that a woman went up to his apartment with him late last night.”
Lilia turned off the television and ran into the kitchen. She gestured to Remi.
“I’m in trouble.”
“I know.”
“No, Remi, this is different.”
“Don’t tell me that you screwed up again!”
“Remi, I don’t want Arturo to find out. Turn on the TV with the volume really low so that only you can here it.”
“What the hell, Lilia! What happened?”
And there went Remedios The Beautiful. He turned on the TV with the remote. He switches channels until he finds the main news story of the day.
“Didn’t I tell you that the Santos said that you’re really in for it? What were you thinking sleeping with the first guy you came across on the street? Haven’t you ever heard of AIDS? And what’s more, the Santos told me that you’re still being put to the test and that’s why these things happen to you. Obviously you’ve come down here to learn the hard way. Don’t go out until I tell you. I’m going out to buy some hair dye and dark glasses. Damn you really know how to screw things up. And I thought I’d be going on vacation with the girls to Madrid. I’m going to have to postpone it until I see you on a plane with kids and all.”
“I see you’ve dyed your hair.”
“I look terrible, Arturo. I look like Saint Dorothy of the Savannah after a long night of partying.”
The children were packing and frolicking with Motita.
“That’s all you care about. How you look in front of the cameras,” yelled Arturo.
“Forget it, Lilia. He can’t help it. He’s madly in love with you. He’ll never leave you, not even in peace. And as if it weren’t enough to be in such big trouble, you cheat on him every chance you get. The poor guy should be canonized.”
“But Remi, you dye your hair and you look great, whereas I look like a slut. Wouldn’t I look better in a wig?”
“Honey, I think you’re right. I saw some marvelous ones on Diego Street in Río Piedras. They’re the ones the Dominican women use, and that’s why they look so fabulous. Because those girls know how to escape. They flee in style. They flee from one country to another, until they get a job and support their whole family over in the Republic, but always well dressed and put together. And that hair, honey. Their beauty parlors have the best service, they understand so much better what to do with our hair. And on bad hair days, that is worse hair days, they put on their wigs. My God, what am I saying! I forgot to take my hormones today. You’ve got me talking nonsense.”
“Someone’s at the door. Who could it be? No one comes to visit us anymore. Remi, can you go see who it is?”
“Where’s Lilia?” In front of Remi, a black man asked.
“Where are your manners, child! Your parents never taught you to say hello first? That’s why this country is in the state it’s in. You call up an office and they say, “sweetheart, sweetie, how can I help you?” But why are you calling me sweetie when I don’t even know you?”
“Hello. I need to see Lilia.”
“Okay, come in. But just for a minute, we’re packing. As you know.”
The black man planted himself in the living room of the apartment in front of Lilia and immediately asked:
“Do you know who has the weapons?”
“Silly,” answered Remi. “What does Lilia know about weapons? She hasn’t the slightest idea.”
“She’s the only one who knows.”
“What weapons are you talking about?”
The black man got in Lilia’s face.
“Don’t play stupid. We know you hid the group’s weapons somewhere.”
“If you touch her you’ll pay, you’ll pay dearly for it!” yelled Arturo.
“Remi’s right, she has no idea, and neither do I. No one in this house knows what you’re talking about. So I’m warning you.”
Remedios The Beautiful walked the man to the door. He walked quickly so as to get in front of him, as if inadvertently, swaying his hips all the way. The black man stared at Remi’s butt, enthralled. Remi opened the door.
“How unfortunate that we’ve had to meet under these circumstances. Some other time then.” And he slammed the door in his face.
“Now we really have to get out of here. With the government on the one hand, and this goon on the other, girl you’re very popular these days. Go and take a bubble bath to clear up your energy a little. Kids, go and bathe with your mom, Arturo and I will pack.”
Lilia opened the tap in the bathtub and looked for her bubble bath. The children came into the bathroom filled with joy.
“Can we bathe Motita?”
“Sure, the bathtub is big and comfortable. I’m going to miss her a lot. Everyone off with your clothes.” In a moment, they were all naked. Lilia squeezed and kissed the children, picked them up and got into the bathtub overflowing with bubbles. Motita jumped in and out of the tub leaving puddles all over the floor.
“Tell me a story, mommy.”
“A story. I don’t know how to tell stories. I write tales, sometimes true ones, sometimes not so true. Lately, a lot of people don’t like the tales I’ve been writing. Maybe that’s why we have to go.”
“Anyone can tell a story.”
“I can’t,” replied Lilia. “I only know how to construct tales.”
“Tell me a tale.”
“A butterfly who comes out of her den and falls in love with an elephant.”
“What happened to the elephant?”
“He rejected her because she was very small and he might hurt her. And she was sad for the rest of her life, seeing how the male elephant won the love of the female elephants.”
“And she died of sadness like Margarita, qué linda está la mar. Construct another tale, mommy.”
“A mermaid who dragged ships to the bottom of the sea, because she felt very lonely down there surrounded by so much blue.”
“Poor thing. How many ships did she drag down?”
“Not enough. Because she always came back to the surface in search of more ships.”
“Now another tale.”
“A group of people abandoned on the shore of an island fighting with each other. They look like stray dogs, without a future but with even less imagination…”
Arturo opened the door and abruptly entered the bathroom.
“Sorry. It’s very late. We have to go now. We’ve been told that they’re coming for you.”
“Who?”
“We’ll have to escape through the back door, the one that goes to the garbage dump. Put these clothes on the children. And you put something on. Remi is finishing the packing.”
Lilia had started to dry off the children when Arturo came up to her and for an instant she felt that he desired her.
“Arturo, forgive me.”
“Always, Lilia, I will always forgive you. Now, get dressed,” answered Arturo as he pressed her against his chest.
“This bathroom’s too crowded,” shouted Remi, as he entered the bathroom.
“I’ll finish dressing the kids, Lilia it’s late, you get dressed too.”
“I’m going to open the bathroom window, I think we’ll have to go through there,” exclaimed Arturo as he gathered together his family like a bear gathers his cubs.
“Yes. That’s how we’ll have to disappear, through the same whole that Alice escaped, through the looking glass of the city. Without leaving a trace.”
“Don’t get all metaphysical on me, Lilia,” was the last thing Remi said.
*Originally published in Spanish in: La Estatuilla (San Juan: Cultural, 2004)