MAGGIE

Except for the dancing, which I liked, I had never been able to put my heart in this work. Now that I knew these things, however, it was worse. What a fool I had been to listen to Sam! What a fool to think that he cared for me. Now I was growing up a mile a minute, and I wanted to get out, but I felt it was hopeless. I never really prayed much, but every night I would put the medal of Mary under my pillow. It just made me feel better.

At work, the men came in sequence, one after the other, mooching and smooching, playing their custom-made games, and parading their idiosyncracies. Before sex, one guy actually walked around the bed three times--for good luck!

They came with blond hair, black hair, no hair; with new mustaches, short beards, shaved and unshaved (Yes, even some of these rich, macho guys came in with their prickly whiskers). Some walked in; some practically crawled in. Theres even an eighty-eight year old man who needed help to climb the stairs!

They came from uptown, downtown; from businesses and government; and, yes, even from churches.

They came in tuxedos, business suits, uniforms and sports clothes. No shorts, however. That was outlawed by Madame Z. Not dignified enough!

So many times when I looked around the dance floor I would be reminded of a saying that was always in the Sunday edition of a popular newspaper: What fools we mortals be!

Janey and I used to laugh at that and make up all kinds of related stories. Here, however, it didnt seem so funny. I was beginning to understand what it meant.

However, in the rare instances when I got a guy who was a good dancer, I was able to forget everything as we moved to the rhythm of the music. But heaven never lasted long. It could even get nasty on the dance floor when those who were denied the luxury of the upstairs rooms tried, at least, to get their dollars worth as the music played on.

Day after day I lived with the regrets that came with my choices and the hope that I would not be trapped forever. I knew that I was being watched constantly and even if I escaped in some way, I had no place to go, no one to turn to. Any hope that I had was very faint, but it was ever present.

Very soon, however, it was to be tested to the edge. How could I ever have anticipated who would show up at Club Rendezvous!



JANEY/SISTER MARIA

The next day Sr. Dominic, Sr. Lucy and I were on the way to the clinic when a boy came running toward us.

Seester! Seester! Please come. Pepito sick. Carlos Arvalez grabbed Sr. Lucys hand and pulled her. They took off so fast that I found myself trailing Sr. Dominic who was at least fifteen years older than I. When we got to the house we saw a young woman sitting on a mattress with a baby snuggled in her arms. She was stroking his tiny head. When we got close to her, I gasped. The baby was dead. Dysentery was a common disease in that area. It took the life of many babies.

We offered our sincere condolences to the family, but as we met the husbands distressed look, our sympathies sounded so trivial.

Too much dying in thees place, he said, as he nodded his head, too much.

That night I prayed, Dear God, why do I feel so depressed? I just arrived, and Im ready to go back. Please help me.

The following day the baby was buried in a small cemetery that seemed like a verdant oasis in the dry terrain. A row of white, wooden crosses stood starkly against the dark green, well-maintained grass area that was surrounded and guarded by a fence of posts and twine. He had been wrapped, according to custom, and was in a tiny, wooden box. Most of the community attended the short prayer service conducted by Sr. Dominic. Afterwards, two men lowered the box, covered it with earth and the father planted a white cross on the grave. When everyone left, I could not move. I just stayed there staring at the crosses.

Sr. Lucy touched my shoulder. The cemetery was built only eight years ago, she said, and this is the twelfth cross. As you can see, we have a lot of work to do, Sister.

I guess so, was all I could answer.

Youre white as a ghost, Sister laughed and continued in her compassionate, no-nonsense style, I know the feeling. Youll learn to deal with it. We all had to! Come on, we have to go see Abuela Gonzalez, one of my patients.