Let Their Spirits Dance Read Free

stood outside her window, staring at the faded curtains through the tangled web of the passion vine. I look at the barren spot where the passion vine once grew, and where Duke joined me on mornings I held a private vigil for Jesse. The passion vine was blown away years ago, how many, I can’t remember exactly. A fluke blew it away, a storm that resembled a hurricane swept through the Valley, unearthing anything not rooted deep enough or held down by concrete. I look at the spot, and it sends a shock wave through my body. Jesse is there, watching me come home, remembering how I crushed out suffering for him,one blossom at a time, until I gave up and the passion vine went to sleep on its own, making suffering stop in its tracks for the winter at least.
    I rush to the kitchen door with Cholo at my heels. I have the key in the lock and open the door before my mother walks into the kitchen. I used to sneak in so quietly as a teenager. Sometimes Priscilla would leave the door unlocked when she wasn’t mad at me. And now all this fanfare. All I need is a drumroll.
    â€œMija!” My mother gasps and strains to balance herself on her cane. Her hair is a maze of white, wispy tangles all around her face. Her nightgown dangles to her heels, exposing the white socks on her feet. Her hand is on her mouth, staring in horror.
    â€œIt’s nothing Mom…nothing at all.” I feel my swollen lip shaping each word. Syllables catch like tangled threads in places where my lip feels numb.
    â€œHow…mija…what happened? Dios mio!”
    I kick off my heels and let my dress slip off my body. I’m standing in front of Mom in my bra and slip.
    â€œYou’ll freeze,” Mom says. “Go get my robe in the bathroom.” I walk down the hall into the bathroom, talking to Mom over my shoulder as I reach for an old bathrobe hanging on a nail. The robe is quilted, pink rayon with a frayed ribbon at the collar.
    â€œIt’s OK, Mom, just some trouble over where Ray plays…at the club.”
    â€œWith Ray? Did he do this? Call the police!”
    â€œNo, Ray didn’t do this.” I walk back to the kitchen sink and soak paper towels, pressing them up to my face.
    â€œI thought you were here because you saw Jesse!”
    â€œJesse!” The paper towels freeze in midair over my face. Saying my brother’s name raises the hair at the back of my neck. His name comes out of me like a shout. I look at Mom, half expecting to see Jesse standing behind her. She’s smiling. The wrinkles on her chin have disappeared and her eyes look as if she’s staring at a newborn baby—soft, tender.
    â€œI heard his voice—tonight! Ay, it’s as beautiful as ever. You remember, don’t you, Teresa?”
    Mom has her hand on my shoulder, shaking it, trying to make me believe what she just said. She doesn’t know I’ve never forgotten Jesse’s voice. I recorded it in my mind when it was still a boy’s voice and not a man’s.
    â€œOuch—Mom, my shoulder hurts.”
    â€œAy mija! How could this happen to you, and tonight, why tonight?”
    â€œI don’t know, maybe it’s part of a big plan. It doesn’t matter; she got the worst of it.”
    â€œWho? Sandra? Don’t tell me you were fighting in a bar with that woman!”
    â€œNot a bar, Mom, the club—the Riverside.”
    â€œBut fighting…mija…she’s bigger than you. Did you hit her a few good ones at least? May God forgive me!”
    â€œShe’ll remember me the rest of her life! I ripped off her dress too, the bitch, she had it coming.”
    â€œDon’t cuss, mija! Ray’s like your dad, another woman at his side. Sandra’s your Consuelo.”
    â€œDon’t even say that woman’s name, Mom! I don’t want to hear it.” Mom pulls me by the arm. “Look, let me show you…your brother is visiting us tonight!” I walk with her as