The Feria (6 page)

Over the next two weeks, Xavier and Soledad had grown inseparable. Whether or not this was normal for people in love, Soledad did not know, but she would spend every hour of every day with him if she were permitted to. They attended church together, they attended parties, they swam, they talked, many nights had been spent under the stars where Soledad fell asleep in the comfort and peace of Xavier’s arms. Lastly, they helped the old ladies fix up
Abuelita’s
property. They were free to do anything they wanted. She would walk with Xavier on grocery deliveries. The
feria
was on break before its last leg that would end with the beginning of fall. The timing of everything could not have been more perfect. Xavier and Soledad walked hand in hand, fingers entwined, down the dirt path toward her
abuelita
’s. These last few weeks had been the most precious days of her life.

Xavier was now so much a part of her that the mere thought of pursuing Stanford now scared her, instead of inspiring her like it used to. Everything had changed since she’d met him. There had never been an exact answer as to how this summer romance would end, or how it would move forward. She’d always tried to live in the moment, and when this affair first began, the end had seemed nowhere in sight. Now, realistically, she’d soon have to go home to El Paso, she’d have to go away for college, and Xavier would have to eventually leave on the
feria’s
next run, and honestly, their lives had two options: move forward together, or accept it as it was and let go. That last thought made her chest feel tight.
Not an option
. She pushed the troubling thoughts away, as well as the lingering demands of her father, insisting that she needed to come home. He’d said it was urgent, but if it truly were, he’d have already come to get her. What possibly helped that situation was the fact that she had convinced her mother that
Abuelita
needed her help and she’d return to El Paso as soon as she was done.

Soledad only realized she was fighting an internal battle minutes later when she noticed neither of them had spoken.

She broke the silence. It wasn’t an uncomfortable silence by any means, but she loved to hear Xavier’s voice. “Tonight I’m going to cook for you.”

“Wow, I’m honored.”

“You’re sarcastic.”

Xavier stopped walking, lowered his face to look into her eyes. “No, no really. I’ve never had a girl kiss me before. I mean
cook
for me before!” His charming laugh danced all around them.

“Well, I think you’re lying on both counts. One, I’m positive about.” She stood on her tiptoes and pressed her mouth on his. She felt his arms wrap around her waist and draw her closer to him. Their tongues danced. She reached both arms up and around his neck and pressed her mouth harder into his.

They were quickly getting carried away. This seemed to happen more and more often now as they spent time together. They’d both invented ways to help them cool off before things went too far, even though Soledad could not help but notice the ocean of trees off the path that could easily have concealed them, had they decided to give into the temptation to go further.

“You up for a run?” Xavier asked, panting.

“Well, I’m told that I’m pretty fast,” she said with a smirk.

“Is that a challenge? So a race, then? What if I win?”

“You won’t.”

“If you win, how will you know if it wasn’t because I let you?”

“Because you would never disrespect me like that.”

He realized she’d taken the words right out of his head. “That is the genuine truth. So ... I guess you’d better start running!” He pecked her on the lips and darted off.

“Cheater!” she yelled and took off after him.

They both laughed all the way. They rolled out of the path and onto the main road in front of her grandmother’s house like two out-of-control tumbleweeds blown out of the El Paso desert. They joined hands.

Xavier was still chortling, but Soledad stopped in her tracks. The black automobile she knew well was parked in front of the house, and her father stood hands on hips, his perceptive gaze measuring up the couple with his eyes.

She quickly dropped Xavier’s hand. From her side vision, she could see Xavier staring at her. She glanced at him, and his confused expression pained her.

“It’s my father,” she whispered.

“I’ll go.”

“No.” The defiance that had been building in her since the last time she’d seen her father burst out. She took Xavier by the arm and pulled him forward.

“
Papá
, this is Xavier.”

Xavier lifted his right hand, but Soledad’s father did not move.

“Cholita, what’s the meaning of this?” He lingered on Xavier sending daggers with his eyes, then he returned his intimidating gaze to his daughter. “Why have you been ignoring my messages to come home? Why are you disrespecting me?”

“
Papá
, I could ask you the same.”

“What?”

“Nothing.” She looked down.

“If there is something you need to say, then do so,” he dared.

“Nothing,
Papá
.” Her defiance weakened. He was still her father, the man she’d loved and honored for all her life. Even though this man was different, he was still her father.

“You best be going.” He gave Xavier one last glance. “
Chole
, get your things. I’ll be in the car.”

The silence was deafening. The fear of the unknown was sneering at them. She longed to reach up and kiss Xavier as though she’d never see him again. She wanted to squeeze his hand and reassure him that she’d be back soon. But their goodbye was nothing of the sort.

With one last squeeze of his hand, she channeled every remnant of faith in her, and said the words her heart knew even before she did. “I love you.”

He didn’t hesitate. It was as if they said it ordinarily. “I love you.” There was urgency in his voice.

Her father sighed heavily, disgust in his air.

She didn’t understand why they were so panicked. Was it because they’d been caught together? Was it because she was leaving to a whole other country that, although was a neighbor, banned her love from entering? No. It was because she was looking at a man who was not her father. That gentle, kind man was gone. This angry man would surely disapprove and keep her away.

Her throat was closing.

Xavier turned to go, and she died.

“Get your things!” Her father was losing his patience.

Soledad froze.

“I have no things.” She had come to her grandmother’s home straight from the
feria
with plans to return to her home the next day, so she hadn’t brought one thing.

“I’m not waiting any longer. You’ll go without.”

She didn’t even step inside to say goodbye to her grandmother or Suki. Her grandmother would understand. She was sure her father had already made his presence known.

Arms crossed across her chest, refusing to meet her father’s glare, she entered his car. As they drove away, she turned one last time to the gap in the trees leading to the path.

Xavier was nowhere to be seen.

The drive home was intense. No words were spoken. No questions were asked, although Soledad knew there were many on both sides.

The blue shutters on San Diego Avenue did not welcome her. Instead they appeared as bars of a prison. This time, as she stepped up the three steps, no prayers escaped her lips. There was only bitterness nesting in her. Without even greeting her mother, she ran up the stairs and into her bedroom, slamming the door. Adolescent, but she didn’t care.

No one came. She wasn’t sure if she wanted anyone to see what the fuss was about, or if she was happy being left alone. Her eyes, tired from crying, closed before she realized it. But as soon as she closed them, Xavier was all she saw. His face, his eyes, his hands, his smile. The tears refreshed themselves.

In the bedroom next door, Eduardo told his wife about the boy.

“I was angry. She defied me, ignored my orders. I didn’t mean to be so cruel.” He rubbed the stress lines on his forehead.

Flor sat at her vanity, her back to her husband. In the few weeks since he had explained his plans for Soledad, a rift had formed between them. It was unintentional, but as a mother, one of her young was being threatened. She had been sick for the last few weeks, and her doctor blamed it on stress. She was torn between her loyalty and duty to her husband, and her fierce, protective love for her child. The vicious battle waged each day, from the moment her eyes opened in the morning, until the time her mind would finally allow her to sleep. And then, her sleep became tormented until she again opened her eyes, only to start the unrelenting cycle again.

That night at the
feria
, when Emmanuel had met Soledad and disrespected her with great disregard to what he was doing, Flor had wanted to kill him. She’d also wanted to kill her husband. She and Eduardo had always lived to protect their children. Why didn’t he now?

“Are they in love?”

“What do you mean?”

She finally turned around to face him. “You know what I mean. Are they in love? My daughter and the boy?” She could no longer even use the word
our.

“Flor, how can I know?”

“Eduardo, don’t act stupid. You know what love looks like. You know what it feels like.”

His silence answered her.

“Eduardo, this is killing me. This is killing you. You will never forgive yourself for what you are about to do. There has to be another way. I will get a job. You can go back to school or find another job. Please, there has to be a way.”

Flor watched emotions play across her husband’s face, and for a moment hoped he would listen to reason.

“Enough!”

Flor jumped off her seat and rushed to close the door. The children didn’t need to be damaged any further by overhearing their parents argue.

“Emmanuel is coming for dinner. The plan remains intact.”

“How will you ever live with yourself?” Flor sneered.

She left the room without another word. She needed to go to her daughter and try to prepare her for what was to come, without disobeying her husband. She suddenly felt the rift erupt.

Soledad descended the staircase with guns blazing. She knew what was coming. Her mother had gone in and casually mentioned that the “weird man from the
feria
would be joining them for a business dinner with her father.” The same man who’d disrespected her.

Forced to come down for this dinner, Soledad had dressed herself in the heaviest clothes she owned, covering every possible part of her. She would have worn winter clothes if it wouldn’t have been uncomfortably obvious. This man would not violate her tonight, not in her own home, what used to be a sanctuary. She was further mortified to find that when she turned the corner into the dining room, everyone was seated and there remained one seat. Her seat. Next to Emmanuel.

She wasn’t a stupid girl. She was at the top of her class, a feat not usually reserved for females. She’d been accepted into Stanford, another achievement not typically attained by women. There was not a stupid bone in her body, except that which had led her to believe that her family loved her, that her father loved her.

In an instant, she knew the
what
, but she didn’t understand the
why
. It all began to put itself together. Her father’s eagerness to introduce them at the
feria
, his urgency for her to return home, so urgent that he went into Mexico to gather her himself. She was an animal being led to the slaughter. This was a business dinner all right, and she was the business.

Her father, now sitting red-faced at the edge of his dining chair, staring at her expectantly, was apparently willing to sell her off, to trade her soul for whatever his selfish ambition was. Everyone now stared uncomfortably as she stood in the doorway assessing this situation. It was as if time stood still while the white walls of the dining room began to look concave and suffocating, delusional even.

Soledad felt short of breath, her chest filled with a tightness she could not calm her way out of. She forced herself to look at her mother and felt like she was looking at a stranger. There her mother was, quietly and obediently accepting what was unfolding in the very home where she gave birth to Soledad.

Her mother slumped so low that the chair hovered enormously. She could not even return Soledad’s desperate stare. And why should she? She, too, was part of this plot. What was meant to be passed off as a casual business dinner, was actually a get-to-know-your-purchase dinner. Her dear mother so solemnly talked about this business dinner, never bothering to even so much as provide her with a hint.

Soledad would have no such hypocrisy. She officially set off the night in a voice that shook her home. “I
won’t
do it!” She turned to escape up the stairs. She could hear a chair sliding over the wood floor. She didn’t know who was coming after her, but she knew she would not hesitate to survive this madness. Whoever the victim was, she would unleash hell on earth. She would gladly let this nightmare kill her before she allowed this to happen.

Even in her bedroom, behind a closed door, she felt unprotected. Her books, her dolls, her bed, nothing had an affinity to her anymore. She felt like her time here was finished. She would cut all ties with her family and run away with Xavier. She would tell Don Pedro to tell Xavier to wait by the border tomorrow night, and they would leave together. She could care less about Stanford, or even about her family for that matter. There was only one person she was willing to run for, to remain sane for, amid this crisis. She would get a job with the
feria
, and they would be together for good. Nothing was indispensable. Nothing. She could spend the rest of her life a beggar as long as Xavier was by her side.

As her mind reeled with all the plans for salvation, the stranger who used to be her father was in her room. Where as a child this would delight her because he usually came in with surprises or to tuck her in for the night, his presence now exhumed bitterness. How things were changing, and quickly.

“You can’t knock?” Her voice sneered like a demon.

Her father’s face, still beet red, matched the tie he wore. He pulled out a satin handkerchief to wipe his face with trembling hands. Did this really mean this much to him? That his physical appearance, his emotion, his reaction could suffer so much at her threat to disparage his plan?

“This is my house, and I can enter any room I please.” The shortness in his breath was evident.

“As well as you can barter off your flesh and blood like a piece of property to be married and raped.”

Like a demon in flight, Eduardo bolted to her bed where she sat and slapped her mouth.

“It didn’t have to be this way, Soledad!” His scream was sure to have been heard downstairs.

Although stunned, the pain of the actual slap was nothing in comparison to the sting of his intentions. Her father had never put a hand on her in her entire life. He’d never had a reason to.

“Don’t speak my name.” She avoided addressing him as her father. “You’re dead to me.”

He did not so much as flinch with her spiteful words. It was clear he was deadened inside by whatever was strong enough to consume the goodwill and kindness that used to define him.

“Soledad, you will be married in a week.” Her father exhaled and slumped into her desk chair. Perhaps this was taking its toll on him, but he concealed this well, for in seconds he was recomposed, staring right at her.

One week. She gasped, swallowing air, and the torrent of sobs could no longer be restrained. She’d suspected what he wanted, but a week? Did she matter so little to him?

“I tried to get you back here sooner to avoid this shock. This, all of this,”—he swirled his finger in the air as if conjuring their surroundings and then pointed downstairs. “It could have been prevented.”

“Why,
Papá?
Why?” She betrayed her promise to never call him that again. “Please, just give me one good reason for stealing my life away from me.” Her voice trembled. “Please,
Papá!
”

“Soledad, it’s beyond anything that I could ever explain.”

“Try, for God sakes!” She was screaming now, pity replaced by rage.

“Cholita, you are the key to your family’s salvation. You have more power to help us now than even I have.” He rose from the desk and cautiously, as if testing her reaction, moved toward her bed, his eyes never leaving her, urgently trying to make contact. “You are my daughter, and I would give my life for you.”

Soledad could tell he meant that. The angered demon taunted her as hints of her compassionate and kind father presented themselves. “I would have never done this if it weren’t out of utter necessity. This is not a game or an experiment. This is survival.”

Kind and compassionate, yet so resolved in his so-called plight for salvation. So she was the martyr. Everyone else could live their lives as usual, but she would not be given that consideration. “So I must die?”

“Cholita, this will not kill you. Starving, homelessness, that will kill you. Not being able to see a doctor or buy medication when you’re sick. Those things will kill you.” A new voice presented itself. One of fear. As if he thought he’d broken through to her, he sat beside her, risking to put a hand on her knee. “I spent careful time picking Emmanuel for this purpose. He is not a bad man. He’ll be good to you. He’ll treat you like a queen, if you could just let him in.” His voice pleaded with her.

He took her silence for permission to continue.

“This is uncomfortable for him as well, but he is willing to become a part of our family in order to help us out of the dire situation we have been put in because of circumstances beyond our control.”

In continued silence, her mind closed off, and her father retreated. She slid down and, sitting on her bedroom floor, she accepted a few things. First, she realized she may never go to Stanford. Second, and only because she could not bear to include it anywhere else but on a silent mental list, she began to prepare herself for the fact that she may never marry Xavier. They may never have children and grow old together. Her life was no longer her own. She was but a slave.