Tension was heaped on every dinner plate and,
frankly, it was unappetizing. Obviously, Lydia and I still had many
issues between us to resolve. The distance between Arizona and Chiapas
still separated us, even though physically we were in the same room.
I had no doubt that we would reconcile. We’d had our disagreements
in the past. Wasn’t this like all the others? There was no
reason for the two of us to fight it out at that moment and spoil the meal
Maria had prepared for everyone. It was my duty to change the subject.
If only I could get everyone back to sucking alcohol, the unpleasantness
would quickly be forgotten.
“Someone pour me a drink. I want to…make
a toast.”
“I thought you were going to say that you
wanted to get wasted,” said Angie.
“No, it’s not about getting wasted.
On the contrary, I want to make full use of myself. It’s just that
I want to keep company with the rest of you. My liver can handle
anything that all of yours can.”
“Allow me to make the toast,” said Roger as
he handed me a vodka and rum martini. “To the happiness of the new
couple. May their joy multiply and be spread among us all, so that
we can experience it as well.”
The sound of clinking glasses was nearly drowned
out by the chorus of our voices calling out, “cheers” and “salud”.
It was a beautiful toast, and I allowed myself to be convinced that happiness
was a certainty between Lydia and me and that our version of joy was something
that others would like to experience.
“You’re a lucky man,” Roger told me.
“I want to get married too. What’s wrong with me? Why can’t
I get a girlfriend?”
It was the kind of question that was best
left unanswered. No one wanted to be the first to throw a rock against
the broad side of a barn, but Roger insisted, asking again, “What’s
wrong with me?”
“You’re too distractible, Roger,” said Maria.
“It’s true,” said Angie. “You can’t
even get yourself a one-night stand, forget finding a fiancée.
When we went to the beach, you were flirting with me and Catalina at the
same time. Then, you started paying attention to Maria. You
ended up with no one. Every woman who walks by causes you to turn
your head. It doesn’t do any good to spread out your attention.
You should concentrate it on one woman at a time. Roger, you have
to decide what you want.”
He grabbed his chin and looked up at the ceiling to think about
it. It didn’t take more than a minute. “There are so many beautiful
women in Mexico, but if I had to choose just one, I know who it would be.
There is one woman I truly want. I want Catalina.”
As if by magic, the door opened and the woman
whose name Roger had just invoked stepped inside. Catalina was soaked
from the rain, but she looked radiant. She had her child in her arms.
Roger jumped up to receive her. We all did. It was wonderful
to see our friend. It was a triumph to see her with her child.
An impromptu huddle formed around mother and baby. Even
Lydia and The Duck who had never met Catalina gathered with the rest of
us. Only Catalina’s tenacious grasp kept smiling Baby Antonio from
being passed back and forth among us like a football. He was cozy
and dry beneath a blanket in her arms. At first, only the baby’s
tiny face was visible, then he boldly pushed his little arms up through
the folds of the blanket.
Catalina and Baby Antonio each had an equal
number of comments directed toward them. It was an incomprehensible
din.
“You’re a cute baby, aren’t you?”
“It’s fantastic to see you, Catalina!”
“You look like your mommy, don’t you little
guy?”
“How did you manage to get here with the baby,
Catalina?”
“Don’t you want us to hold you, baby?”
“You look sensational Catalina and so does
little Antonio.”
In our excitement, no one thought to offer
a chair to Catalina who one would logically assume to be fatigued from
the journey and from holding the precious nine kilo bundle. Because
of our thoughtlessness, she remained standing, and our huddle seethed around
her. We were literally tripping over each other to try and be the
closest to mother and baby. It was such a joy to see them together.
Catalina started to speak. She was inaudible
at first, but all of us were interested enough in her words that we eventually
shut up to hear her. She was thanking our hostess and excusing her
lateness. I was ready to turn her upside down to shake loose the
information was waiting for.
“How did you get Baby Antonio? Did you
steal him from your mother-in-law?” I asked.
“No, absolutely not. She stole him from
me. I only recovered what’s mine. Antonio is my child, not
hers, and she needed to be reminded of that.”
“You spoke to her?”
“I sent her to hell. It felt great.”
At that point Catalina rolled her eyes upward and altered her intonation.
She indulged us by repeating her interview verbatim: “‘I’ve
come for my son.’ ’You may have him for one hour.’ ‘I’ll have
him for much longer than one hour. He’s mine forever. He’s
always been mine, and I was foolish to let you come between us.’
‘But the judge gave custody to my son.’ ‘Don’t talk to me about court.
Your sleazy lawyer manipulated the hearing. I want to talk about
justice. You know in your heart that the baby is justly mine.
How can you pretend that my ex-husband is capable of exercising custody
of my son when he doesn’t even have custody of himself? You control
him.’ ‘That’s not true. Tell her, son. Tell her I don’t
control you.’ ‘He only beat me because you ordered him to do it.’
‘An obedient wife wouldn’t complain about being beaten. That’s just
one way that a husband proves to a wife that he loves her.’ ‘What
an absurd thing to say. I’d know he loved me if he respected me,
but he doesn’t. You’re the one he prefers. I’m not afraid of
him anymore, and I’m not afraid of you. Right is on my side.
I’m tired of being bent over by the burden of your injustice. I’m
standing tall now, walking out of here with my son in my arms.’”
“Didn’t your ex-husband try to stop you?”
I asked.
“His mother tried to sic him on me like a
trained attack dog, but he didn’t touch me. It was the first time
I had defied him, and it shocked him that I wasn’t afraid. That man
is defenseless against the will of a strong woman. He stepped aside
from the doorway when I asked him, and I passed right outside, carrying
Antonio.”
“Did he say anything to you at all?”
“Yes. He whimpered that he was sorry
he divorced me and asked if we couldn’t get back together.”
“What did you tell him?”
“I told him to go fuck his mother.”
Catalina’s voice was simply triumphant as
she recalled the confrontation. She had stood up to her demons and
defeated them gloriously. Finally, the condition of her soul matched
the cool self-confidence of her exterior. She didn’t say what had
motivated her to act, but it must have been a resource deep within her
that empowered her to ignore the consequences and act in accordance with
what was genuinely most important.
There she was, standing before all of us to
be our model, to be mine, especially. Perhaps there was similar strength
inside of me to ignore insincere entanglements and pursue the genuine goals
of my heart. Catalina’s example was one of love, the strongest love
of all. The love a mother has for her child. The bond between
them was visible to us all. It was a physical band of energy, binding
their two hearts together. The radiance of Love surrounded us and
so warmed our souls that each of us felt an identical spontaneous need
to reach out for it. We all longed to be in contact with Love, to
hold someone in our arms with whom we could experience that noble feeling.
The drive we felt to be in the arms of the
person we most loved was so spontaneous and so universal, it must have
been inspired by a supernatural force, but that goes without saying.
Love is supernatural. It is not dictated by logic, obligations, or
timetables. It’s appearance is mysterious. It’s effect is wonderful.
Suddenly, the electricity cut off. The
moment was a confusing one. The strong spell of Love would have caused
us to be disoriented regardless of the blackout, but with the added distraction
of near total darkness, our loving arms were left blindly groping.
The outline of Catalina and her child were
embraced by a tall figure. I knew Roger had found her. Nigel,
being extraordinarily thin, also was discernible. I assumed the woman
in his arms to be Angie. The remaining masculine form could only
be The Duck. There was just enough peripheral light for me to observe
him sweeping up his woman in his arms. I knew that woman to be extraordinarily
beautiful, to be capable of great loyalty and generosity. Admittedly,
I felt a strong sentiment of longing for her. I even begrudged The
Duck for taking her from me, but it was easy to console myself. I
was not without a partner.
Even as I had been watching the other couples
pairing up, my partner was already in my grasp. We had found each
other quickly, almost automatically, matching ourselves up before the others.
The differences that existed between us were unimportant at that special
moment. Every obstacle could be transcended. Love had proven
itself to be superior to all obstacles in its path. The woman felt
comfortable to me in my arms. Her weight upon me was entirely complementary
to the weight I felt myself exerting upon her. We had transcended
conversation. Our contact together was sufficient to communicate
that our souls were co-mingled, and that our futures would always be co-mingled
as well. I felt inclined to repeat the marriage proposal I had made
earlier that evening. As before, I made it publicly, but this time
with much greater sincerity. Earlier, the words had made sense to
me as I spoke them, and I had said them with stubborn conviction.
This time it was different. My words were transparent butterflies
that sprung forth carelessly from the brightest and most genuine recesses
of my heart. My brain played no part in their utterance. It
was the real me speaking up.
“Please let me tell you, before these witnesses,
that I love you profoundly. There is no doubt in my mind that you
are the woman I love. Please know that I will always love you.
I beg you to take me as your husband, so that we can always go forward
in life together, empowered by the strength of our unity.”
“It’s too soon for me to answer, Hogie.
We still need time to get acquainted, but I’m open to the possibility.”
The voice was Maria’s.