Visiting Sally
June 11, 2009After Alicia and I talking on Edna’s steps
Today is Sally’s birthday. It really isn’t that special. It is gray outside, just like the nylons the color of smoke that she wears.
Yesterday, I received one of the only phone calls from Sally. The phone went ring ring as I arrived inside.
Esperanza? Says such a familiar voice. It is tired like Alicia. I want to hang up the phone until the voice continues.
Esperanza. It’s me. Sally? Oh, don’t tell me you forgot. You’re friend? Hello? Anyone there? Please?
I suddenly remember and answer with a jolt like lightning has hit me.
Um, Sally? Sally! It’s you. I’ve missed you. School is no fun without you to stand by me at the gate. Sally, where are you? Tito and the boys are wondering where you went-
Esperanza. Sally cuts me off short. Do you want to come over tomorrow? It will be my birthday.
Oh really? Um, happy birthday Sally. As in, your new house? Like when you used to stay over here before your papa came and got you?
Yeah. Just like that. Tomorrow?
Yeah, sure. I’ll see you then. Should I call you again?
It’s ok. I’ll see you tomorrow Esperanza. Early, ok?
Then, the phone line goes dead.
I take the train that reminds me of when I went to work at Peter Pan Photo Finishers. The train drops me off somewhere far from Mango Street. Where are the big apartment buildings that seem to touch the sky? Where is Mr. Benny’s grocery store? It’s not crowded and there are just houses; the pretty kind with the white trim. I count the houses, nine, ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen, all the way until I get to twenty-three. I take a deep breath. The house is very pretty; just like Sally said. The mailbox is pure white, not the white linoleum of the school floor. The walkway feels longer. Why am I so scared? I’m here to see Sally.
I approach the porch that squeaks. The porch looked so pretty and comforting and new. Who knew? The house is pure and red. The paint is clean and perfect. I finally sum up the courage to ring the doorbell. Like the phone, it goes ring ring.
There is Sally at the doorway. I think to myself, Sally, what has happened to you? Where is that eye paint that makes you look like Cleopatra? Where are the boys that used to follow you? Her hair is not shiny black anymore. It is faded like the sign on Mr. Benny’s grocery store. Her face looks so tired. She doesn’t look like she did when she left; all pretty and proud.
Esperanza, Esperanza, Esperanza! Oh, how I’ve missed you! Sally smiles and says my name so many times like it is a chant.
Sally, How are you? Why haven’t I seen you? Happy Birthday! What do you want to do? Are you ready?
Sally’s expression soon fades. She tries to smile, but she can’t take it anymore until she says:
I’m sorry Esperanza. I know you would want to go out, but can we stay here today?
I want to ask why, but the words are stuck in my mouth like peanut butter. I think I already know the answer. I just agree and walk into the house with the pretty entryway. Sally shows me the house. She sounds excited and proud to have such a pretty house. The floors are clean and shiny and there is a television set in the living room with the soft cushions. There are flowers in the middle of the table by the couch. I touch the flowers. They look so beautiful, but then, they are just coarse cloth.
Oh Esperanza, you don’t know how lucky I am! My husband is just great. I mean, just, great.
Sally frowns slightly after these words like Minerva when she asks what I can do.
Sally, it’s so dark in here. Open a window.
No. I mean, sorry, but, the curtains. They’re not suitable. We’re getting them replaced you know.
She wipes her eyes and asks if I want anything to drink as she leads me to the kitchen and then to the living room. We watch television for what feels like hours. I watch Sally and how sad she looks. I remember when I used to ask Sally how she did this and that. Now Sally was the one asking about what I did and this and that. As Sally watches the television, she stares hopelessly at the commercials on the color TV set about going to clubs or running out in a new soccer field. Sally doesn’t even like sports and yet she looks so envious of the girls in the commercial until she finally breaks. Sally, the girl with the eyes like Egypt and nylons the color of smoke is crying. I can’t watch a girl that used to be so big and pretty. Sally doesn’t cry. She can’t cry. And yet, she is in front of me weeping.
Oh Sally. What’s wrong?
I’m sorry Esperanza. I didn’t mean to ruin your stay. I-It’s your only stay.
Sally. How come it’s my only stay. What are you talking about Sally? I like being here with you. Don’t worry Sally. Oh Sally, don’t worry.
I am at a loss of words. The peanut butter feeling is back. My words are stuck in my throat. She raises her hands to her face and her baggy sweater slides down to show her arm. She is bruised just like when she was with her father. This time, her mother is not there to rub lard on all the places it hurts.
Then, she says the same thing she has said millions of times before.
He never hits me hard. Esperanza, what can I do?
At first, I say nothing. What can I do? And then, I remember what Alicia told me. I can’t wait for the mayor to fix things.
Hours pass and eventually Sally tells me it’s time to go. I say goodbye and hug her tightly. Sally just looks sad. She thinks she will never escape what has happened. It haunts her with her father and husband just like that ghost in the horror movie Rachel asked me to watch. I take one long look at Sally. I will come back. I will come back for the ones who cannot out. I will come back for Sally.