The Secret Story of Sonia Rodriguez by Alan Lawrence Sitomer

Author:Alan Lawrence Sitomer
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: ebook
Publisher: Disney Book Group
Published: 2008-02-25T16:00:00+00:00

After washing up, I went to the kitchen where Maria was preparing some food while Abuelita added a small log to the fire roaring underneath an old-fashioned, wood-burning stove. The two of them moved quietly yet purposefully. There was no conversation. I helped myself to a banana.

Maria hurriedly finished her task, scooped up her things, and headed for the door.

“Me voy,” she said. “I’ll be back after lunch.”

“Llévate a Sonia,” Abuelita said, not looking up.

Maria paused, obviously not happy about what she’d just been told. It was clear she didn’t want to take me with her. Heck, I didn’t want to go anywhere anyway, especially with her. However, Maria knew better than to talk back to her grandmother. If Abuelita said to take me, she would be taking me.

Maria turned and scowled. “Come, pocha. And grab those,” she said, nodding to a pile of clothes on the floor.

“What?” I asked. “Where? Can I at least shower first?”

“Shower?” she said. “Don’t worry, we’ll shower. But apúrate; Abuelita smells the rain.”

I looked at Abuelita to see if I really had to go, but she didn’t look up from under the stove.

“Ahorita, pocha, didn’t you hear me? Abuelita smells the rain.” And with that, Maria zipped out of the room, carrying a bag of food and a pile of clothes. I eyed the pile she had ordered me to take. Mine was much bigger than hers.

Figures, I thought.

“I’ll meet you outside,” she said. She left the kitchen and disappeared.

I paused and looked again to Abuelita for an explanation, but my grandmother still didn’t lift her head from under the stove. It seemed that she was intent on building the perfect fire. I stood there like an idiot for ten seconds, not knowing what to do. Finally I grabbed the pile of clothes Maria had pointed to and went to meet my cousin out front.

Great, my new best friend and I were off to do the laundry. No breakfast. No coffee. No shower. Cinderella was back, south-of-the-border style.

Maria exited the house, and suddenly I discovered I was wrong. It was not going to be just me and my new best friend on this little journey. It was going to be me and my new best friend and her ten-month-old baby daughter, Isabella.

Maria was a mother?

Goodness, my cousin couldn’t have been more than seventeen. The only thing I could think of was that the baby had been asleep last night in the other room when everyone was over for dinner. But sleeping through all that noise?

Maria tossed her daughter into an old-fashioned pouch, slung it over her back, and grabbed the pile of laundry. With the baby, the food, two bottles of water strapped around her neck, and her own pile of laundry under her arm, the amount Maria was carrying had suddenly grown to twice the size of my stuff. She didn’t complain, though. Or ask me to share more of the load. I would have at least carried a water bottle, but she didn’t say a word.

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