How the Garcia Girls Lost Their Accents Read Free Page A

plans, believe me, you'll end up with a lot of invitations you can't turn down."
    "Any little
    antojo,
    you must tell us!" Tfa Carmen agrees.
    "What's an
    antojo!"
    Yolanda asks.
    See! Her aunts are right. After so many years away, she is losing her Spanish.
    "Actually it's not an easy word to explain."
    Tia Carmen exchanges a quizzical look with the other aunts. How to put it? "Ar antojo
    is like a craving for something you have to eat."
    Gabriela blows out her cheeks.
    "Calories."

    An
    antojo,
    one of the older aunts continues, is a very old Spanish word "from before your United States was even thought of," she adds tartly. "In fact, in the countryside, you'll still find some campesinos
    using the word in the old sense. Altagracia!" she calls to one of the maids sitting at the other end of the patio. A tiny, old woman, her hair pulled back tightly in a white bun, approaches the group of women. She is asked to tell Yolanda what an
    antojo
    is. She puts her brown hands away in her uniform pockets.
    "U't6 que sabe,"
    Altagracia says in a small voice. You're the one to know.
    "Come now, Altagracia," her mistress scolds.
    The maid obeys. "In my
    campo
    we say a person has an
    antojo
    when they are taken over by
    un santo
    who wants something."
    Altagracia backs away, and when not recalled, turns and heads back to her stool.
    "I'll tell you what my
    santo
    wants after five years," Yolanda says. "I can't wait to eat some guavas. Maybe I can pick some when I go north in a few days."
    "By yourself?" Tia Carmen shakes her head at the mere thought.
    "This is not the Statesst" Tia Flor says, with a knowing smile. "A woman just doesn't travel alone in this country. Especially these days."
    "She'll be fine." Gabriela speaks with calm authority. "Mun-dm will be gone if you want to borrow one of our cars."
    "Gabi!" Lucinda rolls her eyes. "Have you lost your mind? A Volvo in the interior with the way things are!"
    Gabriela holds up her hands. "All right!
    All right! There's also the Datsun."
    "I don't want to put anyone out," Yolanda says. She has sat back quietly, hoping she has learned, at last, to let the mighty wave of tradition roll on through her life and break on some other female shore. She plans to bob up again after the many
    don'ts
    to do what she wants. From the corner of her eye she sees Iluminada enter with a box of matches on a small silver tray. "I'll take a bus."
    "A bus!" The whole group bursts out laughing.
    The little cousins, come forward to join the laughter, eager to be a part of the adult merriment. "Yolanda, mi amor,
    you
    have
    been gone long," Lucinda teases. "Can't you see it!?" She laughs. "Yoyo climbing into an old camioneta
    with all the
    campesinos
    and their fighting cocks and their goats and their pigs!"
    IO
    Giggles and head shakings.
    "I can take care of myself," Yolanda reassures them. "But what's this other trouble you keep mentioning?"
    "Don't listen to them." Gabriela waves her hand as if scaring off an annoying fly.
    Her fingers are long and tapered,- her wedding and engagement rings have been welded together into one thick band. "It's easier this way," she once explained, handing the ring over to Yolanda to try on.
    "There
    have
    been some incidents lately," Tia Carmen says in a quiet voice that does not brook contradiction. She, after all, is the reigning head of the family.
    Almost as if to prove her point, a private guard, his weapons clicking, passes by on the side of the patio open to the back gardens. He wears an army-type khaki uniform, a gun swung over his shoulder. A tall wall has surrounded the compound for as far back as Yolanda can remember, a wall she believed as a child was there to keep the sea back in case during a hurricane it rose up to the hillside the family houses were built on.
    "Things
    are
    looking ugly." Tia Flor again smiles brightly.
    In the Renaissance book of acting, this grimace of a smile might be captioned,
    The lady is
    caught in
    a smile she cannot