Border Crossing by María Colleen Cruz

Author:María Colleen Cruz
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Arte Público Press
Published: 2003-02-15T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 20

I sat in the kitchen on the little red stool Mom bought me when I was small so I could reach the counter. Now that I was tall enough to reach most of the things in the kitchen, I hardly used it any more, except when Grandma was visiting. My grandma sat in one of the dining room chairs she dragged into the kitchen. The only room in the house she was allowed to smoke in was the kitchen. There was a vent in the ceiling that sucked up all the smoke from burnt food, and apparently burning Marlboros. We waited for Mom and Max to come back from Kentucky Fried Chicken with our dinner.

Grandma crunched on a piece of ice from her glass and stared out the window, which opened to the backyard. She said, “So kid, what’s on your mind?”

“Huh?” I said.

“Oh, come on, now. I may be old, but I know when something’s up with my grandkids, and your mind is not really on me right now, is it?” Her eyes never left the window, which somehow made me feel like I could talk to her more.

“I dunno. I was just thinking about my dad,” I muttered.

“Oh, cause he had to work today?” she asked.

“No. It’s just like . . . Well, I don’t know much about him . . . I mean, about where he comes from. You know what I mean?”

“Wasn’t he born in Arizona?” Grandma took a sip of her iced tea.

“I know that. It’s just that he never talks about being Mexican . . .”

“Does your mom ever talk about being Irish or Cherokee?” she asked.

“No, not really, but when I ask her a question about it, she’ll answer me. But Dad avoids all that stuff. I mean, he doesn’t even speak Spanish in front of us,” I said.

My grandmother looked down at her cigarette. “Well, maybe he doesn’t know how to answer you. What kinds of things do you want to know?”

I looked at her. She was finally looking back at me. Maybe she would answer me. After all, she had known my father since he started to date my mother. “Well, what was it like when he was a kid? Did he speak Spanish? Were there other little Mexican kids where he grew up? Did he ever live in Mexico? Does he have any family that still lives there? Who were his grandparents? What did he get for Christmas? You know, stuff like that.”

Grandma laughed. “Oh, is that all? You have a lot of questions there, kiddo.” She put her cigarette back to her lips and took a deep breath. “Well, I can help you out with a few. I know he spoke Spanish when he was a kid. That’s all his family spoke for a while. I know he had some cousins that used to live in Mexico. Then they moved to the United States. I’m pretty sure one or two moved back to Mexico a few years back. Not too long after you were born.

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