Zakiya's Enduring Wounds by Gloria Velásquez

Author:Gloria Velásquez [Velásquez, Gloria L.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781518507168
Publisher: Arte Público Press
Published: 2022-06-15T05:00:00+00:00

FIFTEEN

Dr. Martínez

Mrs. Cameron had agreed to meet with me after Sunday mass at St. Paul’s, the small parish she attended in the nearby city of Al Mar. At first, she was hesitant, saying it was Zakiya that needed my help, not her, but I finally convinced her we needed to talk. As I pulled off the freeway and drove into Al Mar, I felt a slight shiver run through my body. Frank used to love going to the five-screen movie theater in Al Mar where he would stuff his pancita with popcorn and nachos piled high with jalapeños, his favorite snack. Frank would often tease that he should’ve been born a Mexican because he loved spicy food. Forcing myself back to the moment, I continued driving until I finally arrived at the church.

As I parked the car and made my way to the front, I was once again filled with remorse. If only Frank and I had attended church more often, maybe then he wouldn’t have taken his life. Blinking back the tears, I spotted Father Brown standing at the entrance. Dressed in his priest vestments, he was shaking hands with the last of his parishioners. The moment he saw me, he greeted me with a smile. “Nice to see you again, Dr. Martínez. Martha’s still inside. Would you like for me to get her?”

I was about to respond when Mrs. Cameron walked out of the church. She was wearing a modest black dress and her thick black hair was slicked back, making her look years younger.

“Dr. Martínez, glad you found it,” she greeted me in a dry tone of voice.

“It was easy to find,” I answered. Father Brown edged closer to our side. Pointing his long slender finger toward the area next to the main office, he explained, “I told Martha you can use one of our meeting rooms. This is where we often have dinners for special events. You’ll have all the privacy you need.”

I followed Mrs. Cameron through the courtyard to the small building next to the office. Once we were inside the dimly lit room, I pointed to two chairs near the window where the light filtered in, brightening the room. It was sparsely furnished, except for a long rectangular table and chairs and a small wooden cabinet against the wall. There were two large statues of the Virgin Mary and one of St. Jude at both ends of the room.

I could tell that Mrs. Cameron was nervous by the way she kept folding and unfolding the parish bulletin in her hands. I needed to choose my words carefully so that I wouldn’t frighten her away. “Thank you for agreeing to see me today,” I began.

Her eyes opening wide, she abruptly said, “Jerry spoiled Zakiya rotten ever since she was a baby. I know she’s just doing it to get attention.”

I cringed at the harsh tone of her words. Her reasoning sounded all too familiar. When parents find out their children are self-injuring, they often insist they are doing it to get attention.

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