Model Ricans

Hurricane Valeria

As I walk from the computer lab through the quad and back home, I realize how happy I am. I've been so busy throughout the rest of September, I've barely had a moment to really look around and celebrate that I am taking college level courses even before graduating from high school.

I am studying in between part-time babysitting and tutoring jobs. I forged Valeria's signature for student loans. I can see my future. If I can make it through, I will be on my way to Boston.

The kids complaining about homework no longer bother me.

The PSATs are a breeze.

And I absolutely do not follow Desiree into the swimming pool. That's her destiny, not mine.

The first month of sophomore year flies by without drama until October, the height of hurricane season, I get home and find a message in Tia's handwriting scribbled on a tattered piece of notebook paper on the bulletin board. At first I think it's Blanke or Desiree calling again, but it's not.

At hospital. But don't come. Nothing serious. Valeria was having some stomach issues, so just needed to get her checked out.

My heart slips down out of my chest and into the bile of my belly. I swear I can hear the sizzling of all my organs. My fingers shake as I grab my car keys.

Valeria is standing in a white hospital gown laughing, and talking to someone at the front desk while Tia holds her hand, trying to pull her away. "Just hold on, hold on, I want to tell this nice lady something." Her words are slurred and she is breathing hard.

"Mom? Are you OK?"

"Hey Marz! Yeah, yes – I just wanted to," she pauses while Tia tries to coax Valeria back to her hospital room. "OK, lemme just talk to my kid for a second. She's going to leave for Harvard soon, for crying out loud!"

"Mom?"

"Oh, hunny, hi! How are you? How was your test?"

Valeria never asks about school, and she certainly doesn't know anything about the PSAT. "It was fine, mom. What's going on?"

Tia looks at me and shakes her head. I can see now why she didn't want me to come to the hospital.

Valeria grabs my hand. "Everything is fine, honey, I just was thinking about you, wondering if you're planning on going away to school because I might not be here anymore."

"What do you mean you might not be here?"

Tia pipes up again. "Valeria, c'mon, you need to get some rest."

Valeria giggles. She sounds drunk or high or a combination of both.

I can barely process what I am seeing. While I've been focusing on myself and following my own dreams, my mom has been falling apart – in front of my fucking face. "Mom, I won't go away to school," I say. It's what it seems she needs to hear so that is what I say.

Tia shushes me. "No, hunny, you need to focus. The semester is almost over – you need to get good grades for your applications. We are handling it, don't you worry."

"This is my mom – how can I not worry?"

"I know, I know, but look, it's not your job to be her mother."

This is when Valeria gets angry. "Your dad, he was spying on me, he was jealous of me and Tia."

After Tia pulls my hurricane of a mother away from me, and tells me to go home and study, I head back to the college library instead. I stare out the window for hours. Different groups of kids pass through the quad smiling even though their backpacks seem heavier with books than the burden on my shoulders. I imagine their parents are at home, living peacefully in their mansions like Blanke Rayder III. Parents who care about them so much, they invested large percentages of their incomes into college education funds that will allow them to spend four years at a place like this.

How am I supposed to focus when my mom is falling apart?

I crack open my books and try to study for finals. Linear Algebra feels like a breeze while memorizing movements in art history proves to be the biggest challenge. When I see study groups at the library, I'm tempted to sit with them, but knowing my days may be numbered here, I don't want to get too close so I go home to study. The TV is on. The news reporter is telling everyone that hurricane season is starting again soon. I can't help thinking about my cousin – he is stuck there, completely unable to move. I wish I could save him. Get him out of Hurricane Alley.

When Valeria walks into the kitchen and tells me to go to bed, I realize I'm also in danger of getting caught in her next category 5 swirl. "Do you think we can bring my cousin up here to live with us?"

Valeria laughs as she drinks the hot tea that Tia has been brewing for her every night since she went to the hospital. "What for?"

"The hurricanes," I say. "They keep destroying Puerto Rico, and maybe it's hard for him in that chair to prepare."

"Your cousin and Puerto Rico will be fine," she says quickly. "Hurricanes are not new there, they know how to recover, and so is your cousin -- I heard he is writing a book now that he can't get out of that chair," she says, throwing the tea cup into the sink. "Go to bed. And tomorrow at school learn about science and then maybe you can solve this problem of hurricanes."

Oh, Valeria. If I only could.

By the end of the semester, I discover a way to escape the mess of Valeria by asking Pops and Sally if I can stay with them over the summer. "Of course, honey," they both say into the phone.

Summer can't come soon enough. I blaze through the next semester without speaking much to anyone. I avoid the Rican Hallway. I avoid the swimming pool. I don't answer Blanke's incessant phone calls even through Spring Break when I see all the other kids making plans to go to the beach.

But I stay rooted until the school year finally ends. I'm driving to the beach for the summer. And now I am watching Pops and Sally laugh and cook together in the kitchen.

And then I totally fuck up.

When he answers the phone, I feel relieved to hear his voice. "I missed you so much," he says. "Can we meet up? Please?"