Delia's Crossing (Delia 1) - Page 71

Of course, I had no choice.

I went to the window and looked out on the beautiful property, now bathed in a silvery moonlight that made it all seem more like a setting in a dream, and I thought to myself, how simple, how easy it would have been for me not to be here.

If only my father had taken a little longer that morning and started out a little later. If only my mother would have needed to do one more thing before leaving the house. If only another vehicle had slowed them down or my father had to stop on the way because of something he had forgotten. If only the drunken driver had gone a little slower.

What were my parents talking about just before it had happened? Were they talking about my party, my birthday, about how quickly time had gone by and how grown-up I was? Were they happy about it or sad? Were they thinking about my future, planning to do more and more for me? Were they as hopeful as ever, their imaginations running freely? Were they laughing? Did my mother lean over to kiss him?

Did they shout for me that terrible moment when they knew what was coming?

I could hear them now. I could hear their voices.

To what place had they crossed over? Wherever it was, were they thinking as hard about me as I was about them?

I looked at the time. My grandmother was asleep by now back in Mexico. Knowing her, she probably had said good night to my empty bed.

“Buenas noches, Abuela Anabela,” I whispered.

And then I knelt and prayed for Edward and, as I was sure mi abuela Anabela would have wanted, prayed for Tía Isabela and for Sophia and for Abuela Anabela, of course, before I prayed for myself.

I went to sleep with the bracelet still on my wrist, feeling guilty about taking it but also feeling some security because of its value.

For now, I realized, if I left tomorrow, fled back to Mexico, I would return with something more than my name.

What I had lost in the exchange and what more I might still lose was the toll I had paid for crossing boundaries that truly might have been forbidden.

14

A Warning

I could see that Señor Garman was not happy waiting for me outside by the car when I came out to go to school. He leaned back against the Rolls-Royce with his arms folded, his hands on his elbows, and glared at me as I approached. The morning sunlight, unhampere

d by a single cloud, danced over the polished metal around him. He had taken Tía Isabela to the hospital to await the outcome of Edward’s operation and returned.

Everyone in the house now knew what was happening, knew that this was the morning of Edward’s critical eye operation. Sophia was raging with fury that her mother had not told her the night before. When she asked if I knew, I nodded, which made her even angrier.

“So now I’m to be a bodyguard to a Mexican teenager,” Señor Garman muttered. “How did you manage to convince Mrs. Dallas?” he asked me. I wasn’t completely sure what he was saying, so I didn’t answer. He grunted and opened the door for me.

A few days ago, I was walking quite a distance to take a public bus to school, and now I was being driven by a chauffeur in a car that might be worth all of the cars together back home in my village. I sat rigidly and waited for him to get in and start away. Before we did, I saw Casto Flores drive up in the dull light brown station wagon. The right rear fender had a deep dent in it, and it looked as if it needed a good washing.

Sophia came out and looked at the Rolls and then the station wagon before marching down the steps in a huff to get in. She looked as if she were holding her nose. I saw that it amused Señor Garman.

“You’re in this, and the princess is in that. Let me know your secret,” he told me.

My secret, I thought, is to win the trust of my cousins and then reveal their secrets.

The sight of a golden Rolls-Royce with a chauffeur bringing a poor Mexican girl to the public school not only raised eyebrows, but stopped conversations and all activity in the parking lot and at the front of the school. I was almost too embarrassed to get out when Señor Garman came around to open the door for me. I clung to my workbooks and kept my eyes down. He asked what time I came out of the building at the end of the school day, and I told him so quickly he had to have me repeat it. Then I hurried to the nearest entrance, walking, I was sure, as would a Japanese geisha. I heard some catcalls and laughter but ignored everything.

The news of my luxurious transportation to school preceded me with electric speed, however, and I overheard students asking one another who I was. Before, I was nothing more than a passing shadow, another Mexican teenager not worth noticing. No one had even asked my name or given me more than a passing glance. I felt invisible. Now, I was thrust into the center of attention.

The windows of the ESL class looked out over the parking lot, so all of the other students who had already arrived had seen me brought to school in my aunt’s Rolls-Royce. Ignacio’s face was awash in questions, and Señorita Holt gave me the strangest look. It was almost as if I had somehow been deceiving her. I took my seat quickly, and she brought the class to order. Despite the work we were all told to do, I could feel the eyes of curiosity around me.

It wasn’t until our lunch break that I could speak with any of them, but it was only Ignacio who had any idea whatsoever why I would be delivered to school in such a manner. He thought it might have something to do with Edward’s accident, however. I told him it was my aunt’s way of protecting me and herself from more embarrassment. I told him more about Edward’s injuries.

“It’s nice that he wanted to protect you from those boys. I worry for my little sister, worry that something similar could happen to her someday. That’s why it’s best we stay with our own people.”

I calmed him and pleased him when I told him my aunt had given me permission to go to his family’s fiesta for his sister Rosalind’s birthday.

“I will come to your aunt’s hacienda at three o’clock on Saturday to bring you there,” he said. Suddenly, he noticed the bracelet Sophia had given me. “Where did you get such a valuable piece of jewelry?”

Tags: V.C. Andrews Delia Horror
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