Signed, Anna Maria

Chapter 7

Mama woke up late Christmas morning. She was hungover, tired and groggy "Is it Christmas?" She moaned getting out of bed.

"Si Mama! The Shepherd's birthday. Rejoice!" I said containing my excitement.

"Shepard? I don't know any shepherds." She said into the cot

"No Mama, Jesus Christ's birthday! You know Prince of Peace, our Savior?"

"Oh right" She remembered. Her face pale grey and sick, she rushed to a nearby laundry basin that was filled with water and vomited. "Eww" She remarked backing away. "Th-hats-at's-so-" She heaved before vomiting again.

"Disgusting" I finished. Mama vaguely nodded, still hunched over the laundry basin.

"I feel like shit" She complained trying to stand again. Mama hobbled over to a jar of dried peppermint on the shelf. She ripped open the lid and stuffed a fist full of peppermint leaves in her mouth and chewed. "My god" She remarked. She chewed the leaves, with her mouth wide open. "Yes, yes! That's better." She stuffed the rest of the peppermint leaves in her mouth and swallowed it all. "Ow!" She yelped putting her pointer and middle finger to her temple. "It hurts, but oh how that helps."

Mama grabbed a rag and wiped her mouth and hair of the remaining vomit. "That's better" She said relieved. "I've never been one to hold my liquor. That's why I never drink it." Mama eased into her cot. "The headaches are the worst part." She added. "Aside from the vomit and emptiness you feel after."

I put my hand under her head, she leaned back a little. "Thank you dear" Mama looked over at her chair which I had moved back to its place next to the hearth. "Get me my clothes, dear." She pointed. I handed Mama her brown shift from the chair. She snatched it from my hand and threw it over her head. She tied up her hair and began to straighten herself out. "Put a kettle on, please. I have a horrible headache." She ordered.

I complied and boiled a kettle of a cheap leaf mixture Mama bought at market. Once she was settled, I thought it the best time to ask.

"Mama?" I began meekly. Mama was huddled in her shawl. Sitting on her cot which was placed close to the fire.

"Yes?"

"Being that's its Christmas and all, and tomorrow's my birthday and, well... you said you would, well, you know..." I trailed off nervously.

Mama looked into the amber liquid of her cup. She knew it was coming. She looked away, seeing if she could avoid the question all together. "Who is my Father?" I asked seriously. Mama nodded solemnly.

"I knew I would have to answer that question someday. I just never pictured so soon." She set her cup in her lap and shifted to make herself comfortable. "I guess anytime was going to be too soon, for me really. I suppose that's part of why I chose to drink last night. I wanted to forget that memory so that maybe I wouldn't have to tell you tomorrow." She motioned to the floor in front of her. "Come, sit" She offered. I complied diligently. Seating myself directly in front of her. Mama took deep breaths, finding where she was. All while never looking at me.

"It was the land of a cloudless sky, as they called it." She began "Venezuela, for me was always a place of beauty, light and color. They sky was as clear and brilliant as the blinding sun itself. That was another thing, the sun. Just as hot and baron as the devil's oven." She giggled a little to herself after saying that, quickly finding composure again. "I lived in a small town. Much smaller than here."

"What was is called?" I asked

"Cua. It was a charming town too. Darling in its architecture, and beautiful in its landscapes. It was my own hidden world, a castle where I thought myself the queen. Well, an orphaned queen. Both my parents had died before I could even walk. I was raised entirely by my Abuela."