Queen of Bones by Teresa Dovalpage

Author:Teresa Dovalpage
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction
Publisher: Soho Press
Published: 2019-10-07T00:38:30+00:00

3

The Matriarch’s Story (II)

The apartment belonging to Pepito’s extended family smelled of sandalwood incense and black beans seasoned with cumin. The living room was furnished with two overstuffed blue armchairs, a plasma TV and a set of three double-headed, hourglass-shaped drums. Magdala sat in an old wicker rocking chair. At sixty-two, she was plump and heavyset, with Frida Kahlo eyebrows and smooth mocha skin. Padrino had always thought she looked like an African matriarch.

Next to her was an altar dedicated to the Virgin of Charity, Cuba’s patron saint. The dark-hewn, placid-looking statue of the Virgin, linked in Santería with the orisha Oshún, wore a bright yellow dress with tiny rhinestones embedded in the fabric. There were nine golden bangles on her right wrist and a small copper crown on her head. Her regular outfit was a simple blue tunic, but in view of the circumstances, Magdala had attired her with the regalia usually reserved for September 8, the saint’s feast day. She had also sprinkled the altar with cinnamon.

Padrino, sitting in an armchair, listened to Magdala.

“It was my fault!” she sobbed. “I should have told Pepito to borrow the screwdriver from someone else.”

“Hindsight is twenty-twenty,” Padrino said. “Now, what exactly did he steal from your neighbor’s place?”

Magdala’s face turned red.

“He didn’t steal anything, Padrino!” she exclaimed. “He only took the cell phone and the pork leg because . . . well, because they were there. Like I said, when he went back to return the screwdriver, the door was open. He went in and didn’t see anybody. The pork leg was in the oven, almost burnt. I could smell it all the way from here.”

She stopped to adjust her Santería necklaces. They were yellow and gold, Oshún’s favorite colors.

“I even said to him before he left, ‘Tell your pal next door that her pork is going to turn into chicharrón if she doesn’t take it out of the oven,’” she said. “Five minutes later, Pepito came back carrying the pork leg. It was enormous, with a big bone sticking out, and it was piping hot. ‘Victoria’s so busy with her Yuma friends that she forgot her lunch!’ he said. Pepito was hungry and we didn’t have anything ready, so he suggested we have at the animal. He was laughing the whole time like it was a big joke.”

“Didn’t he suspect that Victoria would get mad at him for taking food from her kitchen?” Padrino asked. “It’s a serious matter, mija, and more so if she was expecting guests.”

Magdala shrugged. “He said that her Yuma friends must have invited her to eat out. Anyway, he was doing her a favor. If it had been left in the oven, that roast could have burned down the entire building with all of us inside!”

“Right.”

Magdala started rocking furiously. She fingered her necklaces and avoided looking at Padrino.

“Between you and me, even if Victoria had caught him red-handed, she wouldn’t have been mad at Pepito,” she whispered. “She had a crush on him. That’s why he did it, because he knew he could get away with it.

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