The Memories of Ana Calderón Read Online Free

sharply toward her chin.
    Rodolfo again looked around at his brood, but he remained silent. The only movement in his face was when henibbled at his upper lip, nervously tweaking his mustache.
    â€œI have thought about it long enough. I’ve sold what was left of my gear, and with that money we’ll have enough to take us to Veracruz. From there we’ll make our way northward until we reach the Río Yaqui, where the planting is plentiful.”
    Calista had nothing more to say. She nodded vaguely, rose to her feet and left the hut. Rodolfo’s children were silent, still not knowing what to say or do. Alejandra was the only one to speak. “What about Tavo?”
    â€œWhat about him, Aleja?”
    â€œWell, ’Apá, we can’t just leave him. He’s part of our family.”
    â€œI only have enough money for us. He’ll have to stay behind.”
    Alejandra’s head jerked to one side as if she had been slapped. Her face was filled with shock and disbelief because she could not even begin to imagine life without Octavio. “Then I’ll stay, too.” She was close to tears as she blurted out the words to her father.
    â€œAlejandra, hush. It’s impossible for you to stay. We’re a family and we’re staying together, and there’s no more to be said.”
    After a few moments in which they all sat without saying anything, Rodolfo stood up and left the hut. As soon as she was sure that he was beyond hearing her, Ana sprang to her feet and let out a howl of joy. The other girls and César, not knowing how to react, also stood up and began to giggle. Only Alejandra remained squatting on the sand. She looked up at her older sister and said, “We can’t leave Tavo behind.”
    Ana stopped in the middle of a whoop. “He’ll come with us, silly. Nothing will hold him back.”
    Then, not knowing exactly why, the other girls and César began to yell and screech in wild joy. Inexplicably, they were elated at the prospect of leaving the place in which they had been born.

    My dream was beginning to come true. I didn’t know where we were going, but I felt that each step away from the palapa would lead me to the fulfillment of what I knew was
my destiny. And I would show everyone that I could do some good, after all.
    Unlike me, Alejandra was sad. She didn’t share my joy, especially when she saw that our father would not allow Tavo to come with us. On that last night, both of them begged my father to let him come with us. She cried and said she would not come unless he came along. Even Tavo wept as he asked over and again for the permission. But my father was firm; the answer was no.
    When we were finished with the packing, we laid down to sleep. Alejandra and I shared the same mat, so I was able to feel her turning over from one side to the other. I couldn’t sleep either, not because of Tavo, but because I was so excited. After a few hours, I felt Alejandra leave the mat. I opened my eyes and saw that she had crawled over to where Tavo was lying, and I saw that she put her arms around him. He put his arms around her, too, and I knew that they would stay that way for the rest of the night.
    Before the sun came out, we heard my father moving on his mat. When he blew his nose, we knew that it was time to rise and say goodbye to our aunts and uncles and cousins. I knew, also, that it was time to begin the road that would lead me to the world that I had imagined.

    The sun was rising as Rodolfo Calderón and his eight children walked toward the bus station in Puerto Real. He was at the head and the children trekked in single file behind him. He wore overalls, thick sandals, and a
morral
bag in which he carried a pouch with each child’s baptismal certificate. He also had a photo of the family when César was baptized. With the exception of the two smallest, each girl had a bundle strapped to her back; in it were a few pieces of