Her shouts brought Señora Rosario downstairs quickly. She ordered me into the kitchen, shooing me with her hands. Terrified, I hurried. Both Señor Herrera and Inez stared in amazement.
“What happened now?” Inez asked me, and I told her I had done nothing more than just glance into the dining room at Señora Dallas and her guest. When I said he looked young enough to be her son, she smiled at Señor Herrera, who laughed and set out a bowl of oatmeal for me with a glass of juice and a cup of coffee.
“Sit,” he said, pointing to the chair by the kitchen table. “Eat.”
I sat and started, feeling Señora Rosario behind me, rushing me along with her hot, condemning eyes.
“Señora Dallas does not want you to be late for your English-speaking lessons,” she said.
I gobbled down my oatmeal.
“Let the girl eat,” Señor Herrera said. “She’s wolfing it down like a dog.”
“You want to go tell Señora Dallas that?” she fired back at him. Now that I thought about it, I was surprised they all were speaking Spanish rather than English. Why wasn’t my aunt insisting they speak English if she was demanding it so of me? They were all able to speak English.
He made a face and turned back to his preparations for lunch and dinner.
Inez left to start cleaning the house, every room except Sophia’s. I was to be the fortunate one as far as that suite was concerned.
I gulped my juice and stood up.
“Where is the library?” I asked Señora Rosario. I really hadn’t had much of a tour of the house.
“This way,” she said. I followed her out, glancing back at Señor Herrera, who threw me a comforting smile.
As we walked down the hallway, I noted that practically all of the available wall space was covered with paintings or pictures. There were many pictures of my aunt taken with people I would later learn were celebrities, politicians, or simply very, very wealthy businessmen. In time, I also would learn that many officers of charities would court her to have her name on their programs.
When I reached the library, I saw a table filled with trophies and awards given to her by this charity or that. Except for a half-dozen pictures and the large picture of her with her husband in the library above the fireplace, there was no other evidence of her husband in the house as far as I had seen. There were no trophies or plaques with his name on them. Wasn’t he as generous, or did she simply remove anything that didn’t favor her solely? In every picture I did see, he looked as if he could have been her father.
Señor Baker was sitting behind the desk in the library when we arrived. He started to smile and stopped the moment I walked through the door.
“Where are the books I gave you?” he demanded.
“Back in my room,” I said.
“Run, don’t walk,” he ordered. “Go!” he said, waving his hand at me.
I glanced at Señora Rosario who gave me a look of chastisement and then turned and hurried down the hallway. I didn’t actually run until I was out of the house. By the time I returned, I was gasping as much out of fear as anything. With all that had happened, I had completely forgotten about the books. I never even opened one.
“How could you forget your books?” Señor Baker practically shouted at me when I returned to the library. Señora Rosario was gone. “Haven’t you opened any and started to read?”
I shook my head. “I have not yet had the time.”
“Haven’t had time? Don’t you want to get to go to school? Don’t you want Señora Dallas to like you? Well?”
“Sí,” I said, choking back my tears.
“Sí, sí…no more sí. Say yes or no, understand? Yes or no.”
“S…yes,” I said.
“How good is your memory?” he asked, and came around the desk. “Let’s find out. Give me the English words for what I showed you.”
I recited the words.
“That’s good,” he said. “You’ll make me look good,” he added. He told me to sit on the long, dark brown leather sofa. He sat beside me and opened my book. “Let’s begin,” he said, and I started to read the Spanish and struggle with the English translations, with him correcting me. He was so close that I could feel his breath on my neck. He had a sour mouth odor that came from coffee and cigarettes.
Suddenly, mi tía Isabela was in the doorway. She was still in her robe, but she was alone.