Friday, February 15, 2008

Update on my ex

Alma, my sister-in-law as was, told me that Francisco is the pastor of a church near the border in Juarez. He’s doing well, she said, calls twice a month full of energy.

I could imagine it well. The Francisco I fell in love with. The man of God with a call to the Mexicans. But what happened? That was my future too. How come I am here in LA, raising a son by myself? Why did God abandon me? I wasn’t the one using heroin. I wasn’t the one who lied and deceived, the one who broke into houses or stole everything a person had, including their belief in God.

Why am I now the one subsisting in the struggle for money, rolling out the dreary routine week after week so my son can be fed, housed, educated. How wonderful that God has worked miracles in Francisco’s life. I am sure he thanks God with great enthusiasm before the congregation. But what about us?

I gave Josh the news on the way home from school.
“So, if he’s clean and doing well, perhaps he can come live with us.”
“No-o!” I shudder.
“But I want a dad.”
I inform Josh that Francisco has remarried.
“Does he have children?”
I don’t know.
“Doesn’t he care about me?”
“That’s what I said; I said, “Alma, does he ask about Josh?””
There is a silence in the back of the car. When I turn round, Josh is crying. He’s 12. He never cries.

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