PRESENT TENSE
Chapter Eighteen
Ana hurried down the walkway as the four of
them climbed from the car, neatly avoiding her carefully tended beds of
vegetables and flowers. She watched quietly as they made their way toward the
makeshift gate that led to her yard.
The four friends approached her slowly. None
of them knew the de Rosas well, not even Helga, who had been married to
Fabrizio. They had met Ana de Rosa only once, at the wedding, and only Helga
spoke enough Spanish to easily communicate with her.
Two of the de Rosa children watched from the
house as their mother greeted their sister-in-law and her friends. Fabrizio’s
death had come as a shock to all of them. They hadn’t even found out about it
until two days after it had happened, since they had no phone and had to rely
upon the village priest to bring them the news. He had not found out about it
until Helga had managed to find the phone number of the church, and even that
had taken a couple of days, since the phone lines were temporarily out due to
the earthquake.
Now, the four de Rosa children at the house
gathered in front of it, watching as their mother greeted the visitors. The
four Americans responded as best they could, with Helga translating what the
others could not understand. Fabrizio had spent a great deal of time teaching
her Spanish, and it stood her in good stead.
Ana escorted them into the ramshackle building,
apologizing for the fact that not everyone was there—her youngest daughter had
run over to the church earlier, and would probably stay there until the funeral
was over, and her two other surviving children would join them at the church at
three o’clock. Esther had learned a little English, and helped Helga to
translate her mother’s words, but they were all very uncomfortable. None had
expected that the next time they met, it would be for such a sad occasion.
Ana hurried into the kitchen, bringing out
some food she had prepared earlier—corn tortillas, frijoles, and rice—and
offered her guests seats, serving food to them and her children. Esther made
coffee, and soon the nine of them were sitting around the front room of the
tiny house, perched on chairs, stools, an old couch, and even the floor, in the
case of the youngest children.
The four Americans ate gratefully—it had been
a long trip—although the food was prepared a little differently from what they
were used to. Ana made her food from scratch, instead of pre-made ingredients,
and she used lard instead of cooking oil. Still, the food was good, and they
all thanked Ana with a quiet "Gracias."
At 2:45, they set their dishes in the kitchen
and started down to the church. Tommy offered to drive Rose down because of her
ankle, but she insisted that since it was only three blocks, she could walk
with everyone else, even if her crutches did slow her down.
They filed solemnly into the church and were
quietly greeted by the other members of the family, as well as some of
Fabrizio’s other relatives. Maria, Fabrizio’s married sister, hugged Helga as she
came in. Of all the de Rosa children, she had been closest to Fabrizio, and
held great sympathy for Helga’s loss.
The casket had been placed near the front of
the church, and as Rose walked by, she was shocked to see the bruises on
Fabrizio’s face. She had known that things were bad, from what Helga and Tommy
had told her, but she hadn’t realized just how bad. Some local mortician had
done their best to hide the damage, but nothing could completely hide the
effects of having been buried alive and dying in a collapsed building.
Sophie was shocked, too, but for a different
reason. She knew the damage that could be caused by having a heavy object fall
on a person—she had returned to her car shortly after Trudy had been killed by
the falling tree—but she hadn’t realized how bad his injuries had been. She had
hoped that her friend had had a quick, easy death, without much pain, but
looking at him, she doubted that was the case. He had probably suffered a great
deal of pain before he finally died.
Helga started crying as soon as she walked up
to the casket and looked at her husband for the last time, and Tommy put a hand
on her shoulder, trying to comfort her, feeling a lump in his own throat.
Fabrizio would be sorely missed by all of them.
They sat a few rows back, in the hard wooden
pews, except for Helga, who, as Fabrizio’s widow, sat with the other family
members closer to the front. Someone slipped Helga a rosary, and though she
wasn’t Catholic, she sat working the beads through her hands, saying the ‘Hail
Mary’ along with the other family members.
As the vigil began, Rose glanced around,
noticing how many people were crowded into the church. The small village was
close-knit, and Fabrizio had been well respected. Even though he had been gone
several years, living in the United States, people still remembered him and
thought well of him. Rose turned her attention back to the priest, though she
didn’t understand what he was saying, wishing that Jack was there. She knew
that he had wanted to say good-bye to his best friend, but he wasn’t strong
enough to leave the hospital, even for a few hours.
As the service progressed to the funeral
liturgy, Rose could hear Helga, Ana, and Maria crying a few rows ahead of her,
and the lump that had been in her throat since she had walked into the church
suddenly turned into silent tears.
She wasn’t the only one crying. Sophie nudged
her, offering her a tissue, and Rose saw her friend wiping at her tear-streaked
face. Even Tommy had tears in his eyes, though he staunchly refused to look at
either of them; instead, he stared straight ahead, at the altar, the priest,
anywhere but his friends.
At the end of the mass, the entire
congregation filed out of the church and walked down to the cemetery, about a
quarter mile away. Fabrizio’s casket, closed now, was carried by three of his
brothers, two uncles, and an old childhood friend. They slowly made their way
down the road, watched by a few onlookers who had not known the deceased well.
Fabrizio’s grave had already been dug in the
middle of the cemetery, near to other members of the de Rosa family. Nearby was
the grave of his father, Felipe de Rosa, and that of his paternal grandmother,
Teresa de Rosa.
Helga almost bolted as she watched the casket
slowly being lowered into the ground, knowing that her husband, the man she
loved, was inside, that she would never see him again. Only the steadying
presence of her in-laws kept her standing still as the priest began the rite of
committal.
After the funeral, the entire de Rosa family,
as well as the American visitors, silently made their way back to the de Rosa
home. Helga had stopped crying, and she walked with Tommy, Rose, and Sophie,
staring at the ground, lost in her own grief.
Ana invited them in, offering them more food
and coffee. They stayed for a short time, trying to offer their sympathy to the
family, but they had a long drive back to Masline, a good hundred miles away
over rough roads and through Border Patrol checkpoints, and it was getting
late. Reluctantly, they bade the de Rosas farewell and started back to the
United States.
They made a brief stop at the church to light
candles in Fabrizio’s memory, adding them to the dozen or so already burning,
and then continued on their way.
Helga sat staring out the window as they made
their way out of the village and onto the open road, watching until the last
lights of the town had disappeared from view, wondering if she would ever be
back.