Once Again, I Dreamt of Water

The Makeshift Rainbow

You'll never find a rainbow if you're looking down.

-Charlie Chaplin

"They say it's a river, that circles the Earth

A beam of light shining to the edge of the universe

It conquers all, it changes everything

They say it's a blessing, they say it's a gift

They say it's a miracle

And I believe that it is

It conquers all, but it's a mystery"

-Vanessa Williams and Brian McKnight, "Love Is"

ALONDRA: Estéfano hands in his pant pockets gently says, Sweetie, will you run upstairs with your sister just for a minute? Cecilia is consenting and says, Sure, Pápi. Come on, Stéfi. Let's play casita.

Once they shoot up the stairs,

Estéfano grabs me by the waist

and softly kisses the back of my hand.

What's up with you?

I ask him, kind of surprised yet pleased.

Estéfano's hand slips into

his jacket and he pulls

from his pocket

a black velvet box.

He pulls back

the box's lid,

and lets the image of the ring

sink into my brain

like a child who is seeing the ocean for the very first time

Will you marry me, he asks.

The light of my life, he repeats as I stand agape,

Will you marry me, amor?

I gasp, tears sweeping

down my face

like I have just found grace.

Wiping my face, I say,

Yes, I do!

I quickly correct, Yes, I mean, I will!

Estéfano calls the girls down. (They were not playing casita but peeking down the staircase.) They joyfully leap down in record time, while Estéfano starts to sing a melody that makes me tremble. With time my knees stop, but my heart does not.

Estéfano's singing makes me feel like I'm the luckiest girl in the world. He sings a little off key, but I love it anyway.

As Estéfano finishes the last note, I burst out, Amor, why are you so good to me? My eyes have swollen, yet I look my fiancée in the face.

Porque te amo, Alondra, you're my woman. You girls too.

ALONDRA: Today is a day for gardening. This is part of my daily routine. I am not a gardener-yet I am the queen of my garden, and so are my two little fairies, as I call them, in our garden, Cecilia and Stéfi.

Watering the garden, attending the roses is part of our little women's hearts: we are all in charge of keeping the garden happy. I oversee our duties in the garden. I cut off the hard edges of the leaves of our snow-white roses. Cecilia cleans the earth; the roses thrive as if in honey instead of dirt. Stéfi waters the garden with the hose, refilling the birdbath, apparently feeling lucky with that tune on her breath.

I point out to my daughters a circular rainbow caught between a rose, between the rain of the water hose and the sun and all its brilliance. They gasp and try to touch the makeshift rainbow.

Cecilia digs beneath her favorite rose, one she and I decided to call Consuelo because she consoles us with her beauty. She finds a little surprise; she yelps, Mam! Que fué? I say, alarmed. What happened? When I turn to where my older daughter is, I see what the fuss is all about: an earth baby, and I say, Solo es un niño de la Tierra! It's just an earth baby, just a potato bug! Kill it, Mommy; I'm scared! Stéfi says.

No, baby, we can't kill it. It has a life of its own. They belong to this world for a reason, and we shouldn't do them any harm. Look, it's like a baby, tiny and defenseless. Let's let it get back to its home. The earth baby dwells in its roses as if in honey instead of dirt, and Stéfi waters the garden, making sure not to drown the unfortunate bug, which is returning to its little world.

I clip and cut the dry leaves from the roses, but I am not careful enough and have poked myself with a thorn on the left hand. My blood begins to run. Ceci, let's go inside. It's time for us to cook dinner before your dad comes home. Ceci catches a glimpse at the drops of blood. Mom! You're bleeding! It's nothing, Ceci, don't worry. I'm going to get myself cleaned up! I wasn't careful with those thorns.

CECILIA: I am digging through my sky-blue drawer, between trinkets and diaries and toys, I find my pink bandages and run toward my mommy's room.

Maybe we need a gardener, Mom is saying to herself while washing her hand beneath the faucet of her bathroom. I enter out of breath and give her my pink bandages.

Ay, Amor, qué dulce eres.

It's what you would do for me, I smile, yet I am worried about Mom.

I'm okay now, mi amor, no te preocupes.

I bandage my mother's cut and wince as if her pain is my own.