Amor color cempasuchil

“Do you need help carrying these?” asked the kind young woman who worked at the cake shop. She only ever went to this shop once a year, but the young woman recognized her every time.

“No gracias, I’ll be fine. It’s getting a bit harder every year, but I can still manage,” she replied and with a polite smile--the kind that young people use for old people, with gentleness, but also with a little bit of pity--the young lady let her leave.

On her way out of the door, she spotted a young couple in the alley beside the shop, flirting and embracing out of sight. The old woman smiled to herself and continued to walk to her destination. On her way, she wondered what the young lady thought of her. Since she only saw her once a year, the one day that she dressed her best, the young lady must think that she was a rich old widow relaxing her way through retirement. “Well maybe not that much, even my best clothes don’t look that spectacular,” she thought and continued on.

Along with what she had bought at the cake shop, she was carrying another bag along with her purse and she started to regret not taking up the offer for help. She readjusted the bag with marigolds and a bottle of wine and kept going. A few paces in front of her, the young couple had made their way to the main street through the alleyways and were walking in the same direction as the old woman, holding hands, but their playfulness was now restricted to their eyes as they looked at each other every few steps. As they were approaching a crosswalk, a group of boys, still young but thinking they were big enough to rule the world, crossed the street and surrounded them. Whether they knew the couple or assumed they did, wasn’t clear to the old woman, but as she walked closer to them, she could hear their comments, and noticed the couple put up a brave front while hiding their shaking hands.

“Ay Dios, excuse me muchachos,” she said as she walked right into the middle of the circle they had formed. She turned to the couple and looked them straight in their eyes, not paying any mind to the others around them. “I’m sorry, but would you mind helping me carry these bags? I guess I’m too old now to be carrying around so much stuff.”

“Excuse me, Doña, would you rather I help you? These two don’t even count as men.” Said one of the group, presumably the leader of the whole group. He did look strong, but as the old woman looked in his eyes, she knew that his kind words didn’t carry into his stare. He was probably taught respect by getting spanked if he wasn’t polite enough. Kindness can’t be taught by force.

“No thank you, young man, I’d like these two to help me, but thank you for your offer.” She gave the pastry box to one boy, and the bag to the other. She has begun to turn away from the group when she stopped and spoke to the leader again. “I hope you can carry a lot of love in your heart and forget the anger I see in your eyes,” she said and walked away, corralling the confused young couple along with her. Like a mother duck leading the way for her baby ducklings, the two trailed behind the old woman.

“Sorry for asking you to do this for me. I hope you’re not too busy.”

“No, not at all,” said one of the two, a breath and moment’s hesitation later, he continued: “Actually, it should be us who should be thanking you back there-”

“No No. No need to thank me, I just hope that young man will listen closely to my blessing.” The two boys looked down at the ground, abashedly. After a short silence, one of them said:

“Um, excuse me, ma’am, where are we going?” The taller boy asked. He had stepped in front of his partner when the group surrounded them, but when the woman looked into his face, she saw genuine kindness and a boyishness in the redness of his cheeks.

Brightening up immediately, the old woman replied “Oh, it’s my sweetheart’s birthday today, so I went to go buy them some things. They loved the pastries from the shop back there, so even though it’s a little bit out of the way, I go buy them for their birthday every year. It’s the least I could do.” Her pace quickened a bit, and the smile on her face could be felt by the boys walking behind her.

“That’s very sweet,” said the other boy. He was shorter than his partner but looked strong, athletic, and handsome; the kind of boy that is expected to be very popular with the ladies. Pobrecito.

“Actually, you two remind me of how we used to be when we were younger,” she said with a smaller smile than before and silence fell among the three of them. They made a turn off the main road and the couple looked at each other as they realized what lay ahead.

After a few minutes of walking in silence, they entered the cemetery gates and followed the old woman as she walked through the maze of tombstones easily. Apart from the few leaves and other debris that the old woman quickly brushed off, it was obvious that the stone was well taken care of. As the couple got closer they read the engraving on the stone: Ramona Gutierrez, Amada Madre y Esposa

“Hello, my love. Happy Birthday.” said the old woman. She asked for the bags from the young men and began to set things on the stone. She placed the marigolds beside another bunch that was now withered. She unfolded the box from the cake shop to reveal several small pastries. Next to that, she set down one glass cup and filled it with wine. For herself, she pulled out a plastic cup.

“Would you like some?” She asked the couple. The handsome one accepted the offer, while the other declined. Lastly, she pulled out a picture frame from her purse. It preserved a faded image of two young women, one laying their head on the other’s lap, under a tree. The young couple was in the middle of a conversation of meaningful glances about what they should do now, and why one of them accepted the glass of wine. Their silent exchanges were interrupted when the old woman started speaking.

“Mona was… well, she was the love of my life. But there was a boy in town, a few years older than us. We all knew what he was like, Mona and I understood it more than others. But just because they knew, doesn’t mean they understood him. He didn’t have many friends apart from a couple of girls, who were always scolded for being around him. Even his family didn’t want anything to do with him. He kept to himself, but he didn’t hide who he was either. In the end, unfortunately, that wasn’t enough.” She paused briefly to drink some more of her wine. “One night, a group of young men were out drinking. Ramona’s brother was one of them. He and his friends went drinking and singing together often, spending half the money they earned working during the week at the bar. But this time, they ran into that young boy in their drunken stupor. He used to have such a nice smile. He didn’t deserve what they did, no one deserves it. Those boys were mean. They talked about it in town the next day as if they did something worthy of praise. Things were different back then.” Her voice was hard and angry and she took a long drink from her wine, finishing what was left in the cup. She poured some more and turned to the young men. She smiled an apologetic smile and turned back to the picture in the frame.

“When that happened we were still young, a few years younger than when we were in this picture. We were always together, ever since we were little. Wherever she went, I went. Wherever I went, she went too. When we started to realize what it was we felt for each other, we were afraid. We didn’t have the courage to be public about our relationship, but we didn’t have the courage to leave town and go somewhere where we could love each other. Mona was a beautiful girl. She had beautiful black hair down past her waist; I would spend so much time, braiding and fixing her hair for her. She had a bright smile too, but a tongue that could burn, I swear to you.” She giggled and the boys shared a soft smile with her.

“Anyways, it was safe to say that I wasn’t the only one in town who had eyes for her. She rejected some of the men who asked for her hand, but her family started asking questions after a while. Finally, her parents arranged for her to get married to one of her brother’s friends. Well, once she got married, I did too. I also had a few offers myself. Not that I cared for any of them of course. Mona was all I ever needed, but we were getting older and we had to do what we were expected to do. I was able to get along fine enough, but Mona’s husband was not a good man. Always coming home drunk, sometimes even getting violent with my Mona. Oh, he was jealous too. Haha! He would pick a fight with almost every man that so much as looked at Mona twice, then he would turn around and let the only person she ever loved walk right through his door. I can’t say I was happy, but my poor Mona had it hard. My husband passed a few years ago, but I’ll tell you I never felt pain like when I lost my Ramona.”

“I’m sorry for your loss, Doña. Mona was really beautiful,” said the taller boy to fill in the silence. The other boy nodded into his cup of wine.

“Gracias Joven. Anyway, today’s her birthday so we should celebrate shouldn’t we?” she asked as she poured some more wine into the young man’s cup. “Sorry for making you sit and listen to this old woman’s story.

“Not at all Doña. Thank you for telling us all this.”

“I see. You know I saw you. Outside the cake shop, flirting and being all sweet. It reminded me of how Mona and I used to be before everything got so complicated. I won’t tell you not to hate those young men back there. I know how it feels to be angry. But if you stay angry, it can make even your love go bad. That’s what happened to that young man. I think your love is too great to waste by staying angry.”

“Thank you Doña.” The boys blushed and glanced at each other quickly, knowing they had been caught in their passion, but also at the kindness of the woman’s words.

“You know, you two are the first I’ve ever told about Mona. My daughters know I come here, but I’ve never told them,” she looked up at both of them with a genuine smile “I’m glad it was you two.”

“Thank you Doña, maybe next year we can come back and help you celebrate Doña Mona again.”

“She would be very happy with that.” The woman blinked away a tear that had started to form. She changed the subject by asking the boys how they met. They talked into the warm orange sunset, and the moon rose in the shape of a smile.