Diaspora, p.11
DIASPORA, page 11
“At least tell her you misplaced your phone and ask her if anyone has reached out to return it,” I insisted.
“Okay,” Camila replied, seemingly ruffled. I shouldn’t be scared if she’s not afraid for her life.
“Camila!” her mother yelled, and Camila rushed to the kitchen.
“Yes?” Camila asked her once there.
“Help me set the table.”
“Oh, by the way, I lost my phone today. Did anyone call or come by to return it?” Camila asked her mother calmly.
“How did you lose your phone? And why would anyone return it?” her mother inquired.
“I must’ve dropped it, and you never know. There could still be good people out there,” Camila said, glad her mother hadn’t spoken to Michael Myers, the infamous slasher.
“No, honey, I’m sorry, but no one has called or stopped by the house with it. I’m afraid whoever found it must’ve kept it, and let me be the one to tell you that, sadly, there is no good left in this world!” she added gloomily.
Camila assisted her mother in setting the table and bringing out the food. Everything smelled good and looked delicious. I couldn’t wait to dig in. All this adrenaline rush made me hungry.
We ate, and I complimented Mrs. De Los Santos on her cooking. Then Mama Bear asked what the girls were doing for me, and I said it was primarily inventory and digitizing how the business operates.
“They came up with the idea for a website,” I lied after my second drink. Boy, that rum is strong!
“That’s great. The girls are brilliant. I’m glad they’re doing something productive this summer instead of wasting time on the internet. It’s good that they are helping you incorporate it into your business. It has helped us greatly with ours. Caby Movers is doing amazing,” Mrs. De Los Santos told us enthusiastically, and I felt remorseful that we were lying to her.
That would be a good idea, though. I do need to get with the times at the botanica.
We spent more time chatting with Camila’s mother. Again, I complimented her on her taste in décor, and she eagerly inquired if I wanted to see around the place. I happily obliged.
Finally, Carmen and I excused ourselves for the evening and thanked them for a delicious meal and a lovely time. I was glad that Carmen came up with that idea. It was nice getting to know Camila’s mother.
“See you ladies tomorrow,” I said as they waved from the door with a bright smile.
“Crisis adverted, my friend—for now,” I told Carmen as we got into the car.
She insisted on driving, and I didn’t argue. I was fine, but she only had half the beer, and it’s important not to drink and drive.
“I’m glad you came up with an idea so quickly. You saved the day, and I feel that now that Camila’s mother has got to know us better, she’ll feel more comfortable with Camila spending time at the botanica. I think people fear what they don’t understand,” I said.
“Yes, I got the same vibe. Camila’s mom seemed more relaxed. Now, let’s see what new adventure tomorrow brings!” Carmen stated with nervous laughter.
“I hope they fly up to the moon and chill there a while,” I joked.
“For what? So they can discover the alien base there, and then NASA comes after them?” Carmen expressed a little too severe for my taste, and I cracked up.
“Please, stay, my friend. I have truly missed you!” I told her genuinely.
“Seriously, but do you think it’s possible?” Carmen asked me gravely.
“If what’s possible?” I questioned.
“That they can go to the moon? They haven’t thought of going there—” I cut off Carmen.
“Nena,” I said to her. It’s the pet name I called her when we were girls. “Please don’t ever mention that to them—like ever!” I cautioned. Could you imagine? Yeah—no!
It is plausible that they can very well go to the moon with their ability, but that probably wouldn’t be safe, so I wouldn’t even mention it.
Gaby would probably convince Camila, and they’re lost in space the next thing you know.
“Gaby is spending the night,” Camila said to her mother.
Am I? Gaby thought.
“Okay!” Mama Bear yelled from the kitchen.
“Come on!” Camila said, rushing up the stairs, practically dragging Gabriela.
“What’s the urgency?” Gaby asked as soon as they were in Camila’s room.
“I need to go see Thiago now!” Camila declared.
Huele a peligro!61 But let’s see what this is about, shall we?
Gaby looked at her skeptically. “That seems impulsive,” she said carefully, sensing Camila was on edge.
“What happened to waiting for your mom’s good night?” Gaby added, stalling.
They just had a pleasant evening, and Gaby didn’t want to mess it up because of Camila’s current unhinged behavior over God knows what.
“I want to speak to him, and I fear it can’t wait. Screw my mom!” Camila stated.
“This seems vital since you’re willing to risk a blowout with your mother. What is it that you urgently want to discuss with him?” Gaby asked, hoping she would tell her now rather than later.
Gaby knows Camila and feels this is something she should probably discuss before making a rash decision. Camila was very controlled and rational, but she occasionally acted impulsively.
“He’s over there, all concerned about me here, not properly focused or engaged with what he should be preoccupied with, and I don’t think it’s fair. I need to set him free!” Camila said, her voice shaking.
“Oh, wow, you want to go through with that?” Gaby said, sitting on the bed.
“Why wouldn’t I? I mean what I say!” Camila responded bitterly, standing by the bed and looking at the wall.
“Because you love him,” Gaby added.
“Yes, I do, and that’s exactly why I want to do this,” Camila admitted, restless.
Gaby felt there was a whole lot more bothering Camila. Maybe she’s having post-traumatic stress from what happened at NYU and didn’t know how to express it adequately.
“Cami, that makes no sense to me. I think you’re just afraid of what you feel, and you’d rather break up with him to protect yourself from getting hurt eventually,” Gaby informed her, taking her hand and pulling Camila down onto the bed beside her.
I’m impressed with Gaby. Those are my sentiments exactly. Love can be challenging to navigate when you’re young, and it can be terrifying to feel so deeply about another person.
“I’m so tired of feeling like I have to do things following a certain script!” Camila yelled out.
“What is it you’re so frustrated about?” Gaby asked, unsure why she was so upset.
“Everything!” Camila exclaimed intensely, and Gaby just stared at her, prepared to listen.
“Like really, fuck the patriarchy in the sense that women have had to fit into a mold for far too long. Every aspect of our being is always under harsh scrutiny,” Camila barked, crossing her legs in the lotus position. Gaby looked on so that she could get whatever was bothering her off her chest.
“Take, for example, my decision to end my relationship with Thiago. He’s excellent. I love him more than our limited language can express, and I know I’ll always love him, but I want him to be free. I don’t want to be apart worrying about what he’s doing and vice versa. If we are each other’s destiny, we will find our way back to each other, and if that makes me a bitch, then I accept it, but I will not be sorry. And I most certainly won’t explain myself to anyone,” Camila snarled.
“I don’t think you owe anyone an explanation. I simply want you to think this through so that you don’t regret it later,” Gaby said softly.
“Idelfonsa told me something similar. Hold on to it if you have something good, but I’m tired of constantly being told what to do,” Camila said to her.
Before I go on, I’ll give full disclosure. I’m old school, but I’m not for this alleged “patriarchy” they like to blame on us. Camila should know that. I never married or had children as society dictated. If that’s not an act of rebellion, I don’t know what is!
I just see real, true love in Camila and Thiago, and the truth is, the first love is the real deal. After that, the others come along to help us forget, and the goal then is to find a friend we are attracted to so they can accompany us through life.
I only want her to understand what she has, to see its greatness, and hold it with both hands because life might just come along and pry it out of her grasp.
I can’t live for her, though. No one can. So she’s going to have to figure this out on her own.
“Is there something else bothering you?” Gaby asked, squeezing Camila’s hand for encouragement.
Camila had bottled up many emotions, and the day’s events triggered her.
They did go through something pretty traumatic. I feel they don’t correctly process these incidents emotionally. So instead, they bottle up things, pretending everything is fine.
We all do that, but we need to learn to manage our emotions healthily, or else they’ll creep out of us in ugly and destructive ways.
“A lot is. It’s probably that time of the month or the near-death experience, but I’m just annoyed. Another thing, my mom keeps asking when I’m going to get my hair done as if it’s not acceptable when it’s curly,” Camila said scornfully
“You know how your mother is. She thinks it looks better when you straighten it, that’s all. So I wouldn’t even sweat it. It’s a cultural thing for her,” Gaby reminded her.
“I’m afraid I have to disagree with it. That standard of beauty is incredibly narrow and part of a patriarchal system that has survived and thrived this long due to the number of women in its corner allied to it. It’s astounding,” she replied to Gaby forcefully.
“If you deviate from the script, you’re attacked by women! Men won’t openly do it; it is the women. Men simply ignore it and go for their preferences. We are our worst enemy, and we are ruthless. It’s exhausting!” Camila argued, and Gaby agreed.
“Women do too much for beauty and acceptance—hair down to our toes, everything has to be ‘perfect.’ Even the aspect of our genitalia has to follow a script. We cannot look different or operate outside the prescribed model,” Camila continued, and Gaby nodded in agreement.
“I say let women do whatever the fuck we want. Let’s not condemn other women if that girl doesn’t want to shave any part of her body; cool. Suppose that the other girl wants to shave her head. Great! If anatomically she is different, celebrate it! Enough with one size fits all already. The rainbow has many colors, so you can admire your favorite instead of saying how much you hate red,” Gaby added.
“Exactly! This system bleeds into our perception of self and how we behave and manage our relationships. As women, we must walk on eggshells, not too loud, unable to freely express ourselves for fear we might get categorized as angry, bitchy, difficult, or whatever else outspoken women get condemned of,” Camila continued to rant.
“Yeah, remember that time last year when Tanisha was telling us about her relationship with Marcus, and she confessed she had never had an orgasm but always pretended to so as not to hurt his feelings? Can you imagine the number of dissatisfied women out there because they’re afraid to tell a man how to do it?” Gaby recalled.
“Tanisha is doing him a disservice. It’s all new to them, and instead of helping him be better, she sits there and lies because women have had no voice for far too long. So I refuse to comply!” Camila said proudly.
“I’ve been listening to you, and believe me, I’m in your corner, but the truth is, Thiago is not the ‘patriarchy,’ and he is wonderful, and most importantly, he loves you! So, if you want to go ahead and break up with him, fine, but wait for them to come back, please,” Gaby pleaded.
“And by the way, wear your hair however you want. Don’t let that bring you down. Your mama doesn’t know any better. That’s what her mother told her, and she thinks that’s what she’s supposed to tell you. So you break that cultural curse by not conforming, and if you ever have a daughter, you make sure to never, ever bring that up,” Gaby added.
Lately, I’ve agreed more and more with Gabriela. She is right. I believe what is happening with Camila is due to the intensity of her feelings for Thiago. She’s afraid. Afraid of heartbreak, she’s bracing herself by trying to get ahead of it, and I don’t blame her. It hurts and hurts bad, but that’s life, and all of it is worth living and experiencing. It’s better to have loved and suffer heartbreak than never to share what she has with Thiago.
This little trip to MIT most likely brought the whole thing front and center, and she’s probably already aching with longing. He hasn’t even been gone that long. Imagine when it’s for extended periods. It’ll be agonizing.
Pain should not discourage us from living. On the contrary, it should fuel the flames for life, for it is fleeting, and if we can truly understand that, we will have a different perspective. Then things would lose importance, and we would take more risks.
“Today was stressful. I’ll get some sleep and see how I feel tomorrow,” Camila said, crawling to her pillow and under the blanket.
Gaby patted Camila’s feet as she watched her assume a fetal position and hug her pillow.
“You want to be alone?” Gaby asked Camila.
“No, it’s OK. You can stay,” she replied.
Gaby changed into her pj’s before getting into bed. “It’s OK to miss him, you know. You don’t have to fight it. Feel what you—”
Camila interrupted Gaby before she could continue.
“You can stay, but only if you shut up!” Camila mumbled into her pillow, and Gaby threw the shirt she’d just taken off at her head.
“So rude!” Gaby said as she got into bed beside her. Camila must be in her feelings because she’s never rude.
“Can I say one more thing?” Gaby asked Camila.
“No!” Camila groaned.
“I’ll say it anyway. You were fearless today. I admire you very much because I wanted to get the hell out of there, but you did what’s right and saved that kid’s life,” Gaby told her emotionally.
I think they’re both brave. Camila and Gaby bring out the best in each other. We need to surround ourselves with people who make us better and those we admire and want to grow with us, never people who drain us and make us feel bad about ourselves.
“You’re brave to sunshine because you’re always there with me. Thank you for always having my back. I wouldn’t be brave unless I knew you were there with me. I’m brave because of you. I love you,” Camila told her, a single tear rolling down her cheek.
There it is. Excuse me while I blow my nose. All we need to do is talk it out and love it out. It is essential for mental health to say what we think and, most importantly, express how we feel to those around us. The girls make me proud.
“Good night!” Camila whispered.
Good night, Gaby thought, leaving Camila to her thoughts.
Those internal struggles are often excruciating. Our mind tells us to do one thing, and our heart screams for something else. So, here’s a word of advice: always follow your heart.
No matter what Camila decides, we will support her. It’s her journey; only she knows what’s best for her. Camila knows what to do in her soul, and whatever that is, it will be for her highest good.
None of us can know what she needs. We can try to advise her, but this is her life to figure out. All we can do is love and support her.
____________
57 Moon, you who see him.
58 Moon and tell him to come back because it’s too much.
59 Rice and chicken cooked together, twice-fried plantains, and avocado salad.
60 The one that walks with the lame in a year limps.
61 It smells like danger.
EPISODE TEN
Carmen and I finished our coffee and went down to the botanica. We had just opened and were dusting, getting ready to receive customers. Then suddenly, I heard the bell jingle, and the door opened.
“Good morning,” I heard and turned around to see Agent Jackson strolling in like she was strutting down a runway. She was alone. I guess her partner didn’t want any part of this.
“Crime never sleeps, I take it,” I said as she reached me by the register and removed her flashy sunglasses. She was wearing jeans, a floral shirt, and sandals. It must be her day off.
“It’s a friendly visit. I was just in the neighborhood,” Jackson said, leaning on the counter with a devious grin on her face.
I look at her nervously. I’m sure she wasn’t just “in the neighborhood,” but she smiled, I assume to make me feel comfortable.
“Are the best friends forever around?” she asked, glancing around discreetly.
She’s so predictable. She dresses down and struts in, pretending to have been in the neighborhood, but instead, she’s here stalking Camila and Gabriela.
“No, why? What’s up?” I asked, uncomfortable.
The Vatican heist is old news. I can’t understand why she’s here and what she wants with the girls. This woman is obsessed.
“I heard about an assault they witnessed at an NYU building. Just wanted to make sure they’re OK,” she mentioned casually, and I immediately didn’t like where this was going.
How did she know the girls witnessed it?
“Really? I didn’t know that the FBI got involved in petty crimes,” Carmen said, rolling her eyes and snapping her neck.
If Carmen keeps that up, she’ll have a stiff neck. She certainly doesn’t hide her disdain for Agent Jackson at all. She might as well tell her she’s not welcome here while wearing an “I hate Agent Jackson” T-shirt.
“Well, from what they described, it spells attempted murder to me and far from petty,” Jackson replied snarkily.
However, I agreed with Carmen and would like to know when the FBI follows up on petty city crimes.
Finally, and most importantly, why does she know specifically that the girls witnessed it? Something isn’t adding up with this surprise “friendly” visit.
