Firefly Summer Page 13

  “Everywhere, Rodrigo, including the island of Vieques.”

  They went into the house.

  “Where did the hurricane catch up with you?” Grandmother asked.

  “In Las Mareas, worse place to be caught. A hurricane on the seacoast always seems worse than in the interior. But look at the girls’ faces. There is only one thing on their minds: my surprise. Well, here it is. We are going to be neighbors, Rodrigo.”

  “What do you mean?” asked Don Rodrigo.

  “I have bought Vázquez’s finca.”

  “Bought Vázquez’s finca?” echoed the family.

  “How did you do it, Lucio? I have been after that land for years,” said Don Rodrigo.

  “Through a close friend of his. Vázquez wanted to sell to an outsider. Why, I don’t know, nor do I care.”

  “So the miser is leaving the land,” said Don Rodrigo with certain relief. “I can’t say that I regret it. If the land was to go to someone, I’m glad it went to you.”

  Teresa, Mercedes and Antonio were all ready to start towards the finca at once, had they not been stopped by Doña Anita.

  “What a surprise,” said Ramón, glad to know that their closest neighbor was to be Lucio.

  “Aren’t you glad you came to the finca beforehand, Mercedes?” said Teresa. “Now you know all about it.”

  “Too bad this hurricane had to come along,” said Grandmother. “All the fincas have been badly hit around these parts.”

  “I would have bought the land even after the hurricane,” Lucio said. “The proximity to Rodrigo’s finca was the thing that really mattered to me.”

  “They say Vázquez has money buried on his land,” said Ramón. “I can see Mercedes and Teresa digging for treasure next summer.”

  Lucio laughed. “Of all the eccentricities I have heard about the man, that is one I don’t believe, although I am sure Mercedes won’t agree with me.”

  Next, Lucio turned to a more important subject. “How about workers, Rodrigo? I shall be in need of some, especially one person well acquainted with the land, one I can leave in charge until next summer when I move in. Someone like your Felipe or Ramón. By the way, why not let me have Ramón for the time being?”

  Don Rodrigo shook his head. “I have other plans for him, plans which I have not yet told the family, Lucio. Since we are on the subject, I see no reason to keep them a secret any longer. I have decided to take the family to San Juan for the rest of the year, and leave Ramón here in charge.”

  Ramón’s eyes sparkled with joy. In charge of the finca! He had never thought that really could happen. The family, too, was taken by surprise. When had Rodrigo come to such a conclusion? But a year away from the finca, especially during such times, would be the best thing after all.

  Lucio was disappointed at having lost Ramón’s help.

  “Is there anyone else on your finca you can spare?” he asked.

  “No, but there is Esteban, although he is not part of the finca. Like Ramón, he has grown up around here and has managed his small place well. He has done work for Vázquez, and is liked by the peasants.”

  “The boy is dependable,” said Doña Anita. “You remember, Sixta, the young woman you met here the day you came? Esteban is her brother, two years older than she is. He is a born farmer.”

  “There’s Sixta now,” said Grandmother.

  The girls met her at the door. Sixta had brought the new dresses.

  “Put them on,” she whispered, “and let me see how you look in them.”

  The girls rushed to their rooms.

  When they came back again, not only did they have on the new dresses, but their coral necklaces and earrings as well. Teresa looked much taller in her new princess dress, while the sash on Mercedes yellow organdy made her look like a little girl dressed up in her Sunday clothes.

  Lucio asked where Mercedes had found the jewelry. He knew he had not seen it before.

  “They turned detectives one day,” said Don Rodrigo. “That is the prize she received for the part she played in straightening things out.”

  While the girls stood showing their dresses, Don Rodrigo told Lucio the rest of the story.

  Grandmother had not seen such fine work as Sixta had turned out on the dresses.

  “Your place is in town, Sixta, and not at a finca,” she said. “You can have a place of your own and a good clientele.”

  “But I don’t want a place of my own, Grandmother. I would not trade a schoolroom full of children for the biggest shop in San Juan.”

  “Sixta only wants to teach,” said Teresa. “So do we.”

  “You have a long time to wait,” said her mother. “Go and take off your new dresses. You will have plenty of time to wear them in San Juan.”

  Doña Anita turned to Sixta. “They are beautiful,” she said. “I could not have done half as well. Why don’t you consider Mamá’s suggestion? There is a quality in your work that is very different from any other sewing I have seen. It comes out even in your lace orders. That is a thing worth preserving.”

  Sixta listened to Doña Anita expound her theories, but she was sure all of Doña Anita’s talking could not dissuade her from her original plans. Not when there were children at fincas who could not read or write. She would teach. Let those who wanted to sew spend their time doing that.

  Don Rodrigo interrupted the trend of conversation to ask Sixta if her brother was home. When she told him that he was, the three men left, followed by Antonio, who was anxious to hear what Esteban would answer to Lucio’s proposition.

  When they were gone, Doña Anita told Sixta about Lucio’s plans for her brother.

  “Oh, Doña Anita, I never thought Lucio’s surprise would include us, too. Heaven only knows what it means to our family. I must hurry home. I want to thank him myself.”

  “Not before I pay for the dresses,” said Doña Anita.

  “Pay for the dresses? This is a present for the girls, Doña Anita. You do not owe me anything.”

  Grandmother insisted that she accept her pay, especially after the hurricane. Even Teresa and Mercedes pleaded with her, but Sixta held her ground. Two hurricanes could not have made her change her mind. The work on the dresses was meant as a present, and she wanted them to accept them as such.

  There was nothing else to do but thank her, and Sixta left. Downhill with a light foot and still lighter heart, she hurried to her home. Esteban’s good fortune was the beginning of a turn for the best in her life. No more would she have to sit summer after summer turning out work like a machine after studying hard all year at the university. Maybe next summer, she, too, could enjoy the finca as much as she did when she was a child.

  When Sixta reached home, the house was empty except for her mother, who was singing in the kitchen. Sixta knew her brother had accepted his new job; her mother’s song was one of thanksgiving.

  CHAPTER 15

  ADIÓS–FAREWELL

  Lucio left for San Juan soon after things were straightened out with Esteban. Since his departure, life at the finca went on at a great pace.

  Doña Anita and Grandmother packed things they were to take away, as well as things which were to be left behind.

  Teresa and Mercedes cut off the rest of their bobbin-pin lace and stored the bobbin pins and patterns away in boxes ready to be used the following summer. They packed their trunks and stored sachets of dry patchouli between their clothes.

  When they finished, they spent days walking about the finca, saying goodbye to the workers. Pilar invited the girls to spend the afternoon with her, and later she and Felipe took the girls through some of Lucio’s new finca.

  Teresa asked Felipe to say goodbye to Martín for them the next time he went to Cayey, and Mercedes sent word to come and visit her finca next summer, when she would be living there.

  The girls saw less of Ramón now, for he was always away. When he came to the house, he spent hours talking with Don Rodrigo, discussing the projects about the finca, making sure all things wer
e clear to him before he left.

  Don Rodrigo had not been able to hire a large coach in Cayey or Cidra for the family, so he had written Lucio to contact Filimón and arrange things accordingly. He had been waiting for his answer. In the meantime, he was busy seeing to the number of peasants who daily came looking for work. Some of the ones he hired he sent to Felipe, while others he sent along to Esteban.

  At last one morning, among the letters a peasant brought from Cayey, was the letter from Lucio. It was full of good news. He had contacted Filimón, who would come to the finca Wednesday morning. He had also found an empty house on the corner of Cristo and San Francisco Streets. It had eight rooms with a balcony in the front and a gallery on the back. It was a two-story, and he was sure that on Sundays they could even hear the concerts played by the Municipal Band on the Baldorioty Plaza.

  “Wednesday is only day after tomorrow,” said Doña Anita. “We did well to get things ready ahead of time.”

  Word spread about that the date for leaving had been set, and the peasants began to call to say goodbye to the family.

  Wednesday turned out warm and humid. Early in the morning the packages and trunks were brought to the front room, and after breakfast the family sat to wait for the coach. Grandmother sat with Filo on her lap, stroking the cat’s soft fur. Filo was going along to San Juan, too, and she purred contently as if she approved of Grandmother’s plan.

  Outside in the rear of the house, Ramón sat on a bench carving. Close at hand was a coconut cup he had finished. It had a letter T in the center and a fine border of ferns at the top. Chips flew from the quick whittling of his knife. He was putting the finishing touches on a letter M in the center of another cup. Tiny fireflies formed a fringe around the cup. A smile came to his face as he remembered Mercedes’ excitement when she had first seen the fireflies at the finca.

  He smoothed his work with a piece of sandpaper, glad he had finished it before the family left. As he stood admiring his work, Teresa and Mercedes came around the house, looking for him. He tried to hide the cups, but the girls had seen them and knew by his action that the cups were meant for them.

  “Let us see them,” said Mercedes.

  “I was bringing them to the coach,” he said. “Now that you are here, you might as well have them beforehand.”

  “How beautiful they are, Ramón!” said Teresa, admiring hers.

  “We can actually use them to drink our coffee,” said Mercedes.

  There was a sound of wheels on the road, and the three ran to the front of the house in time to see Filimón’s coach stop at the gate.

  “It’s the coach, Papá,” cried Teresa.

  Filimón came up the path, holding his straw hat high in greeting to the family.

  “Don Rodrigo,” he said, “my coach in its full ‘vestiment’ awaits.” There was a certain flourish in his remark that expressed his pleasure.

  The coach was gaily decorated with a border of red fringe on the top, and the sides were bright and shiny. It was evident Filimón had worked hard to show his special coach at its very best.

  “Where is Antonio?” asked Teresa, looking at the crowd of peasants who had come to see the family leave.

  Ramón shrugged his shoulders. “Does anyone ever know where he is?” He walked away from the girls and went to talk to Don Rodrigo.

  “Let’s run to his house and see if he’s there, Mercedes.”

  They came upon Lucía and asked her where her son was, but she just shook her head and said nothing.

  “Perhaps Antonio does not want to say goodbye,” said Mercedes as they walked along. “Most boys don’t, you know.”

  Teresa ignored her remarks. She did not want to leave without saying goodbye to Antonio, so she hurried ahead to his house.

  “Wait for me,” called Mercedes, trying to catch up with her friend.

  “Antonio!” she called when they approached the house.

  No one answered, so she pushed the door open to see if he was hiding inside. The house was empty.

  “Where do you suppose he is?” asked Mercedes.

  “Come, let’s go,” said Teresa. “I think you are right after all.”

  When they returned, the family had gone to the coach, and the peasants stood around talking to Don Rodrigo.

  “Look, Teresa,” cried Mercedes as the peasants stepped aside to let them go through, “isn’t that Antonio sitting up in front next to Filimón?”

  At the sight of them, Antonio stood up waving his arms and shouting, “Hurry, hurry, Filimón is waiting for you so we can go.”

  “We? To hear you talk one would think you were going along, too,” said Teresa. “We have been to your house looking for you. Mercedes thought you did not want to say goodbye to us.”

  They climbed to their seats, expecting Antonio to jump down and join the group of peasants. But when Don Rodrigo motioned to Filimón and the coach began to move, they realized the truth of his statement. He was actually going to San Juan with the family.

  The peasants cleared the way to let the coach turn, and Antonio looked at them over Filimón’s shoulders.

  “Adiós, Mamá,” he called.

  Lucía waved back at her son. It was the beginning of her dream for him, which, thanks to Doña Anita, had now become a reality.

  “Why didn’t you tell us about Antonio before?” asked Teresa.

  “This summer was full of surprises,” answered her mother. “You and Mercedes had one for Ramón and Lucio one for us all. This was mine for you girls.”

  “Not even Antonio heard of it until a few minutes ago,” explained Grandmother. “I don’t know who was more surprised, you or him.”

  When the coach turned, the peasants went running down to the edge of the path.

  “¡Adiós Don Rodrigo!” they called, wishing the family good luck and a quick return.

  “Adiós—farewell,” came the answer from those in the coach.

  Further down the road, Esteban and his family were waving. Antonio hung out of the coach in his eagerness to say goodbye to his friend.

  The coach came out into the main road, and as they looked back they saw Ramón standing on the hill, surrounded by the workers. He stood there waving until the sight of the coach was lost upon the road, then turned and walked slowly back to the house. As he approached Grandmother’s garden, he noticed the spot where Lucía had been working. The newly turned earth looked rich and black. He stopped to take a handful of it and held it tightly in his hand. It felt warm and moist. Suddenly, a feeling of loneliness came over him. He was alone for the first time since he had come to the finca. How would it be to live without the only family he had ever known? But was he really alone, when he had all the finca to himself and the peasants to do his bidding? And, finally, perhaps a reunion with his parents would reward his search when he looked for them in Guayama. Then he would have two families!

  He let the earth slip through his fingers. “Good earth,” he said softly under his breath. “I am your master now.” Then squaring his shoulders, as he had often seen Don Rodrigo do, he gave the group of workers surrounding him his first order: “Vamos, hombres, let’s go, men, there is work to do.”

  Recovering the U.S. Hispanic Literary Heritage is a national project to locate, identify, preserve and make accessible the literary contributions of U.S. Hispanics from colonial times through 1960 in what today comprises the fifty states of the Union.

  Spanish travelers early on documented their journeys of exploration through the North American continent. Since then, Mexicans, Puerto Ricans, Cubans and others of Hispanic origin have also recounted their personal stories, passed on their lore and traditions, given creative expression to their novels, poetry, plays and other genres inherent to Hispanic traditions. As a result of this project, hundreds of thousands of literary pieces, including essays, autobiographies, diaries and letters will become accessible to scholars, students and the world at large. The publication of Firefly Summer is an early product of that research effort.


  Recovering the U.S. Hispanic Literary Heritage will have immediate and long-term impact on the teaching of language arts, literature and history at every level of the curriculum. The emergence of this recovered literature will broaden and enrich the curriculum across the humanities, from the study of the Spanish language to the way we view history. Accessibility to and study of this literature will not only convey more accurately the creative life of U.S. Hispanics, but will also shed new light on the intellectual vigor and traditional values that have characterized Hispanics from the earliest moments of this country’s making through contemporary times.