Across the Great River by Irene Beltrán Hernández Page B

Kata?”
    â€œBecause I like you and I even like Ramona, whom I have named the silent one.”
    â€œWhy do you call her that?” Nell holds open the car door.
    â€œBecause she hardly speaks.”
    â€œYou are a silly girl, Kata. Ramona is a silent one and you’ve made Anita a doctor. What shall you think of next?”
    I shrug, “But that’s how I see them!”
    Pablito acts like a happy puppy when we arrive from the Police Station. He quickly crawls over and hands me a toy. Nell leaves to speak with Ramona,who is in the kitchen. I feel it is safe to pull out the pouch and examine it again.
    The stone, which is as heavy and as big as my large toe, falls out into my palm. I turn it around in my fingers and go over to the window and hold it up to the sunlight. Where did it come from, I wonder?
    The gold sparkle has caught Pablito’s eye and he tries to pull my arm down so that he can play with it. “No, Pablito, this is special! I know it is or else Mama would not have saved it for so long.” I replace the stone into the pouch and retie it around my waist. Pablito watches me with wonder, then touches his own waist.
    Nell enters the room. “Well, children, Ramona will have dinner ready in a few minutes. Why don’t we go wash our hands.”
    Pablito crawls beside me and pokes his little hand up my skirt. Unable to reach my waist, he tugs at my dress and slip, almost pulling them off. “No! Pablito!” I command.
    â€œWhat is it? What does he want?” asks Nell.
    â€œOh, he just wants me to carry him.” I bend down and pick him up, then take him to the bathroom. After we scrub our hands and seat ourselves at the table, Ramona bursts into the room pushing a cart.
    â€œOh!” I gasp standing up quickly. “What is it?”
    â€œWe call it a cake, Kata.”
    â€œIt’s fantastico!”
    â€œI believe it is,” answers Nell.
    Pablito has both hands outstretched reaching for the cake, but the highchair holds him firmly planted in his seat. He wiggles and squirms, trying to get out so that he can get a handful of cake.
    â€œLook, Pablito!” I poke his fingers into the frosting. “Cake,” I say repeating Nell’s word. I laugh as he licks his fingers and smiles.
    â€œBut children, we must eat all our supper before we get to eat the cake,” demands Nell in a gentle voice.
    â€œOkay, señorita Nell, if you say we must.”
    Nell helps Ramona serve our plates. She laughs as Pablito opens his mouth wide for bite after bite, never once taking his eyes off the cake. I believe he understands every word Nell said. Occasionally he reaches for the cake and cries out, but Nell puts another spoonful of potatoes into his mouth.
    I am anxious myself, for I have never tasted an American cake, which seems very different from our Mexican pastries. This cake seems to melt before my eyes, and I know it has to be delicious.
    After Nell is satisfied that we have eaten all the food she can manage to get into our stomachs, she starts cutting the cake into very large pieces. She purposely cuts it slow and then licks her fingers before our eyes. As soon as she hands Pablito his slice, he jams his fingers into it and pushes piece after piece into his mouth, chewing like a happy calf and smearing chocolate from his nose to his belly.
    After my first bite, I put the spoon down and use my fingers. The cake is creamy, messy and the best thing I have ever tasted in my life. Would Mama like this cake, I wonder? I know she would.
    My two slices disappear quickly, and I ask for a third, but Nell refuses. Upon seeing my disappointment she says, “You’ll get some more tomorrow. You wouldn’t want to get a sick tummy, would you?”
    â€œI would not mind a sick stomach!” I argue, but she remains firm.
    â€œNo, Kata. Tomorrow is another day.”
    What could I tell her? Tomorrow is far away and that delicious cake sits before