TOMÁS RIVERA

CHRISTMAS EVE was approaching and the barrage of commercials, music and Christmas cheer over the radio and the blare of announcements over the loud speakers on top of the station wagon advertising movies at the Teatro Ideal resounded and seemed to draw it closer. It was three days before Christmas when Doña Maria decided to buy something for her children. This was the first time she would buy them toys. Every year she intended to do it but she always ended up facing up to the fact that, no, they couldn’t afford it. She knew that her husband would be bringing each of the children candies and nuts anyway and, so she would rationalize that they didn’t need to get them anything else. Nevertheless, every Christmas the children asked for toys. She always appeased them with the same promise. She would tell them to wait until the sixth of January, the day of the Magi, and by the time that day arrived the children had already forgotten all about it. But now she was noticing that each year the children seemed less and less taken with Don Chon’s visit on Christmas Eve when he came bearing a sack of oranges and nuts.

“But why doesn’t Santa Claus bring us anything?”

“What do you mean? What about the oranges and nuts he brings you?”

“No, that’s Don Chon.”

“No, I’m talking about what you always find under the sewing machine.”

“What, Dad’s the one who brings that, don’t think we don’t know that. Aren’t we good like the other kids?”

“Of course, you’re good children. Why don’t you wait until the day of the Reyes Magos. That’s when toys and gifts really arrive. In Mexico, it’s not Santa Claus who brings gifts, but the Three Wisemen. And they don’t come until the sixth of January. That’s the real date.”

“Yeah, but they always forget. They’ve never brought us anything, not on Christmas Eve, not on the day of the Three Kings.”

“Well, maybe this time they will.”

“Yeah, well, I sure hope so.”

That was why she made up her mind to buy them something. But they didn’t have the money to spend on toys. Her husband worked almost eighteen hours a day washing dishes and cooking at a restaurant. He didn’t have time to go downtown and buy toys. Besides, they had to save money every week to pay for the trip up north. Now they even charged for children too, even if they rode standing up the whole way to Iowa. So it cost them a lot to make the trip. In any case, that night when her husband arrived, tired from work, she talked to him about getting something for the children.

“Look, viejo, the children want something for Christmas.”

“What about the oranges and nuts I bring them.”

“Well, they want toys. They’re not content anymore with just fruits and nuts. They’re a little older now and more aware of things.”

“They don’t need anything.”

“Now, you can’t tell me you didn’t have toys when you were a kid.”

“I used to make my own toys, out of clay . . . little horses and little soldiers . . .”

“Yes, but it’s different here. They see so many things . . . come on, let’s go get them something . . . I’ll go to Kress myself.”

“You?”

“Yes, me.”

“Aren’t you afraid to go downtown? You remember that time in Wilmar, out in Minnesota, how you got lost downtown. Are you sure you’re not afraid?”

“Yes, yes, I remember, but I’ll just have to get my courage up. I’ve thought about it all day long and I’ve set my mind to it. I’m sure I won’t get lost here. Look, I go out to the street. From here you can see the ice house. It’s only four blocks away, so Doña Regina tells me. When I get to the ice house I turn to the right and go two blocks and there’s downtown. Kress is right there. Then, I come out of Kress, walk back towards the ice house and turn back on this street, and here I am.”

“I guess it really won’t be difficult. Yeah. Fine. I’ll leave you some money on top of the table when I go to work in the morning. But be careful, vieja, there’s a lot of people downtown these days.”

The fact was that Doña Maria very rarely left the house. The only time she did was when she visited her father and her sister who lived on the next block. And she only went to church whenever someone died and, occasionally, when there was a wedding. But she went with her husband, so she never took notice of where she was going. And her husband always brought her everything. He was the one who bought the groceries and clothing. In reality she was unfamiliar with downtown even though it was only six blocks away. The cemetery was on the other side of downtown and the church was also in that direction. The only time that they passed through downtown was whenever they were on their way to San Antonio or whenever they were returning from up north. And this would usually be during the wee hours of the morning or at night. But that day she was determined and she started making preparations.

The next day she got up early as usual, and after seeing her husband and children off, she took the money from the table and began getting ready to go downtown. This didn’t take her long.

“My God, I don’t know why I’m so fearful. Why, downtown is only six blocks from here. I just go straight and then after I cross the tracks turn right. Then go two blocks and there’s Kress. On the way back, I walk two blocks back and then I turn to the left and keep walking until I’m home again. God willing, there won’t be any dogs on the way. And I just pray that the train doesn’t come while I’m crossing the tracks and catches me right in the middle . . . I iust hope there’s no dogs . . . I hope there’s no train coming down the tracks.”

She walked the distance from the house to the railroad tracks rapidly. She walked down the middle of the street all the way. She was afraid to walk on the sidewalk. She feared she might get bitten by a dog or that someone might grab her. In actuality there was only one dog along the entire stretch and most of the people didn’t even notice her walking toward downtown. She nevertheless kept walking down the middle of the street and, luckily, not a single car passed by, otherwise she would not have known what to do. Upon arriving at the crossing she was suddenly struck by intense fear. She could hear the sound of moving trains and their whistles blowing and this was unnerving her. She was too scared to cross. Each time she mustered enough courage to cross she heard the whistle of the train and, frightened, she retreated and ended up at the same place. Finally, overcoming her fear, she shut her eyes and crossed the tracks. Once she got past the tracks, her fear began to subside. She got to the corner and turned to the right.

The sidewalks were crowded with people and her ears started to fill up with a ringing sound, the kind that, once it started, it wouldn’t stop. She didn’t recognize any of the people around her. She wanted to turn back but she was caught in the flow of the crowd which shoved her onward toward downtown and the sound kept ringing louder and louder in her ears. She became frightened and more and more she was finding herself unable to remember why she was there amidst the crowd of people. She stopped in an alley way between two stores to regain her composure a bit. She stood there for a while watching the passing crowd.

“My God, what is happening to me? I’m starting to feel the same way I did in Wilmar. I hope I don’t get worse. Let me see . . . the ice house is in that direction—no it’s that way. No, my God, what’s happening to me? Let me see . . . I came from over there to here. So it’s in that direction. I should have just stayed home. Uh, can you tell me where Kress is, please? . . . Thank you.”

She walked to where they had pointed and entered the store. The noise and pushing of the crowd was worse inside. Her anxiety soared. All she wanted was to leave the store but she couldn’t find the doors anywhere, only stacks and stacks of merchandise and people crowded against one another. She even started hearing voices coming from the merchandise. For a while she stood, gazing blankly at what was in front of her. She couldn’t even remember the names of the things. Some people stared at her for a few seconds, others just pushed her aside. She remained in this state for a while, then she started walking again. She finally made out some toys and put them in her bag. Then she saw a wallet and also put that in her bag. Suddenly she no longer heard the noise of the crowd. She only saw the people moving about—their legs, their arms, their mouths, their eyes. She finally asked where the door, the exit was. They told her and she started in that direction. She pressed through the crowd, pushing her way until she pushed open the door and exited.

She had been standing on the sidewalk for only a few seconds, trying to figure out where she was, when she felt someone grab her roughly by the arm. She was grabbed so tightly that she gave out a cry.

“Here she is . . . these damn people, always stealing something, stealing. I’ve been watching you all along. Let’s have that bag.”

“But . . .”

Then she heard nothing for a long time. All she saw was the pavement moving swiftly toward her face and a small pebble that bounced into her eye and was hurting a lot. She felt someone pulling her arms and when they turned her, face up, all she saw were faces far away. Then she saw a security guard with a gun in his holster and she was terrified. In that instant she thought about her children and her eyes filled with tears. She started crying. Then she lost consciousness of what was happening around her, only feeling herself drifting in a sea of people, their arms brushing against her like waves.

“It’s a good thing my compadre happened to be there. He’s the one who ran to the restaurant to tell me. How do you feel?”

“I think I must be insane, viejo.”

“That’s why I asked you if you weren’t afraid you might get sick like in Wilmar.”

“What will become of my children with a mother who’s insane? A crazy woman who can’t even talk, can’t even go downtown.”

“Anyway, I went and got the notary public. He’s the one who went with me to the jail. He explained everything to the official. That you got dizzy and that you get nervous attacks whenever you’re in a crowd of people.”

“And if they send me to the insane asylum? I don’t want to leave my children. Please, viejo, don’t let them take me, don’t let them. I shouldn’t have gone downtown.”

“Just stay here inside the house and don’t leave the yard. There’s no need for it anyway. I’ll bring you everything you need. Look, don’t cry anymore, don’t cry. No, go ahead and cry, it’ll make you feel better. I’m gonna talk to the kids and tell them to stop bothering you about Santa Claus. I’m gonna tell them there’s no Santa Claus, that way they won’t trouble you with that anymore.”

“No, viejo, don’t be mean. Tell them that if he doesn’t bring them anything on Christmas Eve, it’s because the Reyes Magos will be bringing them something.”

“But . . . well, all right, whatever you say. I suppose it’s always best to have hope.”

The children, who were hiding behind the door, heard everything, but they didn’t quite understand it all. They awaited the day of the Reyes Magos as they did every year. When that day came and went with no arrival of gifts, they didn’t ask for explanations.

1971