Stevan Mena - Transience

Laura put the car in park and walked around to let Rebecca out. Rebecca didn’t act unusual, she didn’t show any emotion at all. Laura was surprised. Blank wasn’t the reaction she was expecting.

She took Rebecca’s hand and walked her towards the building. As they got closer, Laura noticed Rebecca was squeezing her hand.

Laura climbed the steps, but Rebecca hung back, frozen.

“Come on,” Laura insisted. Rebecca slowly shook her head.

“I’m going in without you then,” Laura said, insincerely. Laura released her hand and climbed the steps.

She knocked and waited. Francisco opened the door, wearing his military uniform. He pushed open the screen door. “Yes?”

Laura looked him up and down, recognizing him. “Francisco?”

“…Yes?”

“You don’t remember me.”

He stared blankly. “I’m sorry, should I?”

Laura grinned. “Laura Lowell. I was a friend of your sister, Carmen.” Francisco tried to retrieve the data from his memory banks. All he could do was smile back and repeat her name vacantly.

“Laura Lowell… Laura Lowell…”

“¿Quién es, Francis?” Hester asked from inside. She gently pushed past him, revealing herself at the door. She looked exactly the same as Laura remembered, only heavier.

“Yes?” Hester said, but instantly there was a recognition in her eyes.

“I don’t know if you remember me?” Laura said. Hester’s smile got broader. “I’m Laura? I was a friend of Carmen’s.”

Hester reached out and took Laura’s hands. “Laura, yes.”

“It’s been a long time.”

“Yes, it has.”

Laura stepped aside, revealing Rebecca, still cowering at the bottom of the steps.

“Your daughter?”

“Yes, her name’s Rebecca.” Laura turned to Rebecca. “Come on, sweetie.” Rebecca put a hand on the railing and took a slow step. Then another, like a child afraid of being punished.

“Don’t worry, I don’t bite,” Hester said.

“It’s okay, Rebecca,” Laura said. Rebecca took a few more steps. Hester bent over to her. “Oh, so pretty. Come in, come in.” Hester backed up, letting them both enter. As Rebecca passed, she looked up at Hester with dread.

They entered the kitchen. On the table were multiple arrangements of flowers, sent from friends and family members. One large bouquet had a framed picture of Carmen in the middle.

Francisco stepped back towards the corner of the room. Laura turned to him. “The last time I saw you, you were this high,” she said, holding her hand just above her waist.

“My big man now,” Hester said, “he take two week leave when we get the news about Carmen. Today is his last day, he report back tomorrow.” There was a packed rucksack near the front door, a camouflage jacket draped over it, ready to go.

Rebecca looked around the room, pausing at every distinctive item — a framed painting of Jesus on the wall, a man’s hat hung on a hook, an old worn out dog’s bowl on the floor. Each elicited a unique reaction on her face.

There was a collage of snapshots of Carmen and family on the refrigerator. Rebecca turned and looked up at Francisco. He gave her a curious smile.

Hester pulled out a chair at the kitchen table for Laura to sit down. The table had a floral pattern of yellow and pink under an outdated laminate, scratched and stained from years of use. Laura remembered it.

“Would you like something to drink, Laura? Some tea?”

“Yes, please.” Hester put the kettle on the stove.

“How about you, Rebecca?” Hester opened the fridge and bent to search inside, moving a few items. “I have some juice…” Rebecca was silent. “No?”

“Rebecca? Manners?” Laura said, sticking her neck out and opening her eyes wide to emphasize her point.

Hester closed the fridge and walked over to Rebecca, who was fascinated by an oil painting hanging in the hallway. Hester stood behind Rebecca, joining her in admiration.

“My daughter paint this. You like?”

“The color’s faded,” Rebecca said flatly. Hester didn’t quite hear.

“It’s my favorite. That is Saint Peter.”

“Saint Joseph,” Rebecca corrected. Hester’s eyes swiveled down to Rebecca. A sudden, odd tension filled the room.

“What?” Hester said, very interested in what Rebecca had to say now. But the moment was interrupted as the family dog somehow managed to escape from the room he’d been quarantined in. He raced across the floor and dove right for Rebecca. Rebecca’s eyes burst with a sudden joy, she knelt down to embrace the slobbering animal.

“Faucet!” she cried out. Hester turned to Laura, somewhat stunned.

“You told her about the dog?” Hester asked. Laura slowly put her hand to her mouth, touching her lips with her fingers.

“No.”

Rebecca and the dog were like old friends, a bond reunited. The dog licked her face like she was made of sugar, slobbering all over her, much to Rebecca’s infinite delight. She laughed with squeals of joy.

“He really likes you,” Hester said as Laura’s eyes shifted back and forth. “That dog won’t die. Just sleeps and eats. So old.”

The dog jumped up, knocking Rebecca over playfully. “Okay, Faucet, okay!” Rebecca laughed.

“Okay is right; Francis, put him outside.” Francisco leapt into action and grabbed the dog by the collar. “Vete aquí, let’s go.” He pulled the dog to the front door and pushed him outside. The dog tried to nose his way back in, so Francisco used his knee to corral him and closed the door.

Hester sat down at the kitchen table. Rebecca got back up on her feet and brushed herself off, her dress damp from the dogs saliva. Laura stared at her.

“Come here,” Hester said to Rebecca. Rebecca didn’t budge.

“Rebecca—” Laura insisted she listen. Rebecca slowly obeyed and drifted towards the table.

“Rebecca, how did you know my dog’s name?” Rebecca blinked but didn’t answer. “I don’t bite, come here.” Rebecca took another step forward. Hester reached out to tickle Rebecca under her chin. “Well?”

“Because I named him,” Rebecca said. The room fell silent. Hester’s eyes opened wide — but not from Rebecca’s outlandish remark — something else had caught her attention.

“Where… where did she get that?” Hester said, almost stuttering.

Laura stood up and lifted Rebecca’s chin. She saw the gold cross around her neck. Laura frowned, not at Rebecca, but at Jack for giving it to her. “Where she get it?” Hester repeated.

“A friend gave it to her,” Laura said apologetically.

“The detective?”

“Yes.”

Hester stood slowly. “That belong to Carmen.” Rebecca took a step back, holding the cross with her fingers, protectively.

“I’m sorry,” Laura said, reaching for the necklace. Rebecca dodged her defiantly.

“Why she wearing it?”

“Rebecca, give her back the necklace.”

“But it’s mine.”

“Rebecca, now.” Laura grabbed her arm to pull her close but she resisted, twisting and squirming away. “I’m sorry, we’ve been having some problems. Rebecca, now!”

“No!” Rebecca shouted. She looked at Hester. “You gave it to me, for my first communion.”

Hester’s face went pale. She turned to Laura. “What does she mean?”

Rebecca broke free and held up the cross. There was a tiny inscription on it. Laura reached again and Rebecca slapped her hands away. She read the inscription aloud — not looking at it — from memory :

“El te bendice con su amor. Dios te bendinga, hoy Y siempre.”

As Rebecca recited those words, Hester mouthed the same, simultaneously.

Laura stood dumbstruck.

“Why? Why are you?” Hester’s mouth was quivering.