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Abuelita
- University of Texas Press
- Chapter
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~ 88 ~ tub, mixing it with cold. I tested it to see if it was comfortable .Yes, it was comfortable. The bleach was not hard to find—it was just a few steps from the bathroom. Picking up the bottle, I asked myself, “Should I or shouldn’t I?” I unscrewed the cap and poured the whole bottle into the bathtub. “Should” won. Holding the empty bottle in my hands, I realized what I had done. My eyes popped as I looked into the water, trying to fan the fumes with a towel. I opened the curtains that served as a door. The room was roofless and the odor of bleach quickly evaporated into the air. I must have done a good job because my cousin Ramona sang all the way through her bath. And afterwards, believe it or not, her skin color was just like mine. The only thing white was the whites of her eyes. She suffered second-degree burns, and to this day, it is me she remembers the most of all her relatives. Abuelita ~ My abuelita, Doña Demetria, was a character. She dressed herself like an old guerrilla de la revolución de PanchoVilla. She looked like someone out of the past in her long, colorful gathered skirts, with her rebozo crossed in front and back as if she were carrying a machine gun. Her two thick braids hung over the front of her shoulders. She talked only of the past and treated my tíos as if they were still children. ~ 89 ~ Abuelita had her days turned around. Days were nights and nights were days, and there was no convincing her otherwise. Her biggest concern was how to manipulate one of her sons to bring booze to her. After she was good and drunk, she entertained whoever was taking care of her by putting on a show. She pinched both sides of her skirt and twirled and waltzed herself around like a drunken butterfly. When Abuelita’s energy ran out, she would crash on the floor where she was. My abuelita was a feminist before anybody ever heard of the word. She was gutsy, crazy, and demanding. I often heard Abuelita referred to as a witch, probably because of a certain look she had when she didn’t want people around. She would raise one eyebrow, which gave her a mean, evil look. She twisted her lip to the other side. But I never saw her do anything abnormal except talk to the walls. The first time I saw her doing this, I thought she talked to saints in the wall like Amá did. Sometimes she spoke in a friendly tone. Other times, I heard her chasing something or saw her madly shooting at the air as if she was trying to kill flies buzzing around the small room. I would come in and ask, “Abuelita, who are you talking to?” And she would answer, “Can’t you see them? My spirit friends? Who else would I be talking to?” I looked around to where she pointed, but I saw nothing. I figured if she said they were there, they were there. For quite a while Abuelita had an obsession with la muerta que viene en forma de mujer (“the dead that come in the form of a woman”). She claimed la muerta wanted to take her away. Her eyes followed the invisible spirits and she’d say, “Go away!” I guess Abuelita was right because they soon came for her. Amá took us out of school to pay our respects to Abuelita during her last days. Before we got to the ranch, we made a stop at a clothing store and bought a soft lavender dress. When we arrived at the ranch everything seemed normal. There was the ever-present smell of the sewer water from the [3.236.145.110] Project MUSE (2024-03-28 19:22 GMT) ~ 90 ~ canal and the multitude of flies and mosquitoes, pesky as usual . Not too many relatives had come yet.There were a couple of aunts busy in the kitchen preparing big pots of chocolate and baskets of pan dulce. Amá went to greet them and they all hugged each other. As always, we children kissed their hands. Amá then disappeared for a while to prepare Abuelita for “exhibition .” She didn’t let anyone follow as she closed the door behind her. After a while, Tía Micaila came to get us so we...