“ARE YOU READY?” SAID Faustina.
“Yes,” said the man. “I think so.”
They sat in Faustina’s car; she had parked directly under an evergreen elm in front of a row of houses that were constructed immediately after World War II for the returning veterans who needed their piece of the American dream. But over the years the houses took on different colors of paint, and some were adorned with new windows and additions and a variety of landscaping such that their original sameness had all but vanished. The man and Faustina did not know any of this. All they knew was the address on the small brown house was the one given to them by the doctor. The midday sun warmed the inside of the car. They had wanted to get here earlier, but the doctor let them sleep late and then couldn’t stop telling stories throughout their delicious breakfast.
“And you’re comfortable with the cover story Dr. Prietto suggested?”
The man took a deep breath.
“Because if you’re not,” said Faustina, “we could leave right now and not do this. I know you don’t like to lie.”
“I can find truth in the cover story he suggested,” said the man. “In some ways the cover story is truer than my own story—at least compared with the story of my current life.”
“Okay, that works for me if it works for you. It’s sort of like preparing a witness for deposition. Stick with what feels true because they’ll know if you’re lying.”
The man unbuckled his seat belt and reached down to retrieve the cardboard box. He sat for a moment, listening to his own breathing. In, out; in, out; in, out. Long, controlled breaths to slow his heart, calm his nerves. Then slowly the man opened his door, got out, and stood under the tree. Faustina removed her car keys and joined the man on the grass by the curb. Clouds obscured the noonday sun. Faustina looped her left arm around the man’s right, and the man held the cardboard box tightly to his chest with his left arm. They slowly started to walk toward the little brown house.
“We can still turn back,” said Faustina.
“No,” said the man.
They reached the front door. The man rang the doorbell, and they waited. After a few seconds, the door opened, but the metal screen door remained closed. A young woman stood in the doorway behind the safety of the screen.
“Yes?” said the young woman.
The man cleared his throat. “I—we—are looking for Elisa Ochoa,” he said in a soft voice.
“That’s me.”
“Sorry?” said Faustina.
“I’m Elisa Ochoa,” repeated the young woman. “What is this about?”
“I thought you’d be older,” said the man.
“Oh, I’m sorry. I get it. I’m named after Mom.”
“Ah,” said Faustina.
“May we see her?” said the man. “I have something for her.”
“Well,” said Elisa. “That would be difficult.”
“Is she away?” said the man.
“Mom passed two years ago.”
A shock ran through the man’s body. He shivered.
“We had something for her,” said Faustina, pointing to the cardboard box, remembering the doctor’s cover story. “Something that belonged to her son, Fernando.”
“Oh!” said Elisa. “Did you two know my brother?”
“Yes,” said the man, recovering his composure and remembering the general contours of the cover story. He told Elisa his name and introduced Faustina as his fiancée, just as they had agreed to do the night before at the doctor’s home. “Fernando and I both studied for our paralegal certificates together. Anyway, I ended up with one of his books—I don’t remember how—and I thought his mother would want it.”
With that pronouncement, the man opened the cardboard box and pulled out the book. Elisa gasped. She quickly opened the screen door and ushered them in.
“That’s where it went!” said Elisa. “We couldn’t figure out what had happened to it, you know, after the accident. Mom thought that it had been in a larger box with Fernando’s other things that she had given him that day. But I guess it wasn’t. May I?”
The man handed the book to Elisa, who carefully opened it to its frontispiece. She softly outlined her brother’s name with her right index finger. Elisa sighed.
“Please sit,” she said gesturing toward a long couch. “Can I get you anything?”
“No, we’re fine,” said the man. “We had a big breakfast.”
The man and Faustina got comfortable on the couch. Elisa sat in a nearby matching loveseat and continued to page through the book. The man looked about the room. It was comfortable, homey, lived in. His family was not rich, but they had enough money to be content in this well-kept, unostentatious house. The man turned his gaze back to his sister and waited for her to finish paging through the book.
“We were so proud of him,” said Elisa when she got to the last page. “He was the first person in our family to go to college. Pop died when I was a baby. Lung cancer, probably from working in the strawberry fields with all of those pesticides. Mom’s English was way better because she was born here in Oxnard. She worked for years as a secretary at Our Lady of Guadalupe Parish School. Anyway, they were so proud of Fernando when he graduated from San Diego State.”
“Yes,” said the man. “I can imagine.”
“And then getting his paralegal credential, that was pretty amazing,” continued Elisa. “Fernando said that if he could go to college, I could too, because I was smarter than him.” She let out a little laugh. “I always thought that was funny, but hey, it worked. I graduate next year from Cal State Channel Islands.”
“What do you study?” said the man.
“Applied physics.”
“Wow,” said Faustina. “A woman in STEM. Excellent!”
“Fernando was always impressed by that too,” said Elisa. “He said science wasn’t his thing, and he didn’t get it. But he loved history and did really well in it at college. That was his major, actually. American history with a minor in Latin American history.”
“History,” murmured the man as he let the thought roll around in his mind. “History.”
Elisa smiled. She looked at the book again and thought for a moment.
“I know what to do with this,” she finally said.
Elisa stood and walked to the far end of the room. In the corner by the brick fireplace stood a small table draped in a very worn multicolored serape. The tabletop was adorned with marigolds in a glass vase, two colorful sugar skulls, a plate of pan dulce, a small pitcher of water, two lit votive candles emblazoned with images of the Virgin of Guadalupe, and a cluster of burning sticks of incense protruding from a small ceramic skull. The man and Faustina stood and followed Elisa. And it was then that they noticed two framed photographs positioned side by side at the back of the table, one of an older woman and one of a young man. Four smaller framed photographs of these same people as teenagers and young children were arranged at the foot of the two larger photographs. A large framed photograph of an older man stood watch over the others.
“Perfect timing for Día de los Muertos,” said Elisa as she set the book on the ofrenda. “Fernando will be happy to find his favorite childhood book.”
The man and Faustina came closer to the little altar. The candles seemed to flicker and dance as they drew near. They stood in silence with Elisa and admired the beautiful ofrenda.
“Who is that?” asked the man, pointing to the photograph of the older man.
“That’s Pops,” said Elisa. “He passed when I was a baby.”
“Oh,” said the man. He sighed.
“I know you said you had a big breakfast, but I’d love for you to stay for lunch,” said Elisa after a few moments. “I’m doing a nice salad, so it won’t be too heavy.”
The man looked a Faustina, searching for an answer. She shrugged. This was clearly his decision. The man turned back to Elisa.
“Yes,” said the man.
“We’d be honored,” said Faustina.
“Good! I want to talk about my brother,” said Elisa. “Ever since Mom was called back, it’s been just me in this house with a lot of memories. It will be nice to talk to someone who knew Fernando. I miss him so much.”
“So do I,” said the man. “So do I.”
“Have we,” began Elisa as she stared intently at the man, “ever met? Maybe at Fernando’s graduation? Or the memorial service?”
“That wasn’t me,” said the man, attempting to cling as close to the truth as possible but eventually not knowing what was true and what was not. “I couldn’t walk at graduation because of a family medical situation. And I was out of the country during his memorial service.”
“Oh,” said Elisa. “I was sure we’d met before.”
FAUSTINA EASED HER CAR onto the 101. Traffic was lighter than yesterday when they drove to Oxnard from Pasadena. At least their drive home would not be as long. The man stared ahead at the other cars. His stomach was full of wonderful food, and his head swam with Elisa’s stories about Fernando. The man ended up not saying very much, just listening to his sister go on and on about the person he used to be. And he liked what he heard. Fernando was a kind person, someone who worked hard and took care of his mother and sister. Fernando also had a little trouble maintaining relationships—not because he was mean-spirited, just a little insecure and a bit shy. At least that’s how Elisa saw it. The man laughed softly.
“What’s so funny?” said Faustina.
“Well,” began the man, “I think I would have liked myself.”
Faustina nodded, hesitated, then decided not to say anything. They drove in silence all the way back to Pasadena.
WITH JOY REID, ARI MELBER, AND STEVE KORNACKI
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MELBER: |
And we’re back from our short break, bringing you election night coverage. Turning back to what Joy was saying before the commercial, pollsters must be feeling pretty embarrassed tonight as we watch these numbers come in. The midterms are not turning out as they predicted. |
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REID: |
I’m just saying, you know? We all listened to this narrative about a wave midterm, but they were dead wrong. I mean way dead and way wrong! |
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MELBER: |
Yep. That’s for sure. And I think Steve Kornacki has some new numbers for us over at the Big Wall. Steve? What’s getting you so excited over there? Something happening? |
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KORNACKI: |
Yes, well, the numbers from Arizona, Nevada, and New Mexico are coming in—we just got a huge dump in all three of those western states—so it might not be a late night if the numbers keep coming in this way. |
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REID: |
And from what I can see from here, it looks like folks at the White House probably aren’t too happy right now. They were banking on a wave election, but it looks like a ripple or worse. |
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KORNACKI: |
Right! Look at this one Arizona district right here. Let me move this and expand that. Oops! Let me try that again. Live TV, right? Okay, got it, this worked, and look: in the last count before the latest dump, the president’s endorsed candidate for this House seat was ahead of her challenger by about three percentage points, but watch this, as we add those new numbers. Do you see that? |
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REID: |
Oh my! Look at that! |
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KORNACKI: |
The lead flipped completely. Wow, these numbers are really coming in, and clearly the early vote—which is tabulated after the same-day vote, obviously—is not going for the president’s party. This is true in Nevada and New Mexico, too, if you look at these returns here and here. All three pivotal western states seem to be in lockstep not only for the House seats but also, look here, for the Senate as well. In fact, if trends continue as they are going now, the president will lose all three Senate seats that were up for election in these three states for this cycle. Not good, since the polls had indicated a midterm that defied history and would have allowed the president to keep or maybe even expand her majorities in both the House and Senate. |
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MELBER: |
Which, if things continue the way they are now, could completely block not only the president’s legislative agenda but also any potential nominees to the federal bench, not to mention the Supreme Court if there’s a vacancy in the next two years. The president will be rendered the lamest of ducks. |
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REID: |
Really quickly, Steve, just a quick follow-up, because President Cadwallader had been selecting and endorsing and even campaigning with candidates in her party’s primaries who I think most objective observers would say are probably the weaker choice for her party in states like Nevada, Arizona, and New Mexico. You know, in the state of Arizona, is there a sense of how pro-Cadwallader the electorate is? Because, in some of these other swing states, the chances of the opposition party prevailing are actually being increased by Cadwallader’s picks becoming the nominees. |
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KORNACKI: |
Yes. Well, like I said earlier, in Arizona there was a full six-point margin for Cadwallader two years ago, and she carried the state four years prior to that, though by only two points. So yes, many thought it was a safe state for the president’s party. But now, look at this, even in the suburbs where the president had done so well, the margins are almost flipped in district after district. This is a sea change, really. Something you don’t see very often. And really a surprise, since the president’s approval ratings are actually quite strong—historically speaking—and the polling in these three states looked pretty good for her handpicked candidates going into this night. |
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MELBER: |
But lest we forget, the president’s anti-reanimation crusade—if I may use that word here—may have backfired, based on the exit polls we looked at a little while ago. |
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REID: |
Right, the western states include some of the largest reanimated communities, just looking at population and voting patterns. Everyone thought the president’s Make America Safe Again campaign was a winner—and the polls seemed to bear that out—but you know what? The only poll that counts is on election night, am I right? It’s an old saying, but it’s true. |
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MELBER: |
Yes! That’s precisely what I’m thinking. The reanimated communities have been organizing and registering to vote at relatively higher numbers as compared with the president’s core voting bloc. And I think the pollsters may have missed them or undercounted them so the polls didn’t pick them up. And Steve’s Big Board is showing that without a doubt. |
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REID: |
Steve Kornacki, you’re the best. Thank you very much. We really appreciate you. And Steve will be at the Big Board throughout the night with results from today’s midterms, which just keep on rolling in. We will definitely be keeping up with those numbers from key races. |
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MELBER: |
Yes, Steve is the best! |
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KORNACKI: |
Well, we have a lot of people helping make this all work. I’m just the messenger. |
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REID: |
And so modest too! But yes, it’s true we have a lot of great people working to make tonight possible. |
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MELBER: |
And the other thing that’s true is that we need to take another break. We’ll be back after this message with all the numbers on this exciting election night and more Steve Kornacki at the Big Board. And it looks like we might have a new call from the decision desk when we come back. |
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KORNACKI: |
They are working on it now, crunching numbers, seeing what the probabilities are based on what’s left to count. Looks like we might have a big call in a minute or so on one or even two of the key races tonight. |
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REID: |
Yeah, Kornacki! I could watch him all night. Especially with some of these races already getting defined much earlier than expected. But we can’t count our chickens—am I right?—we need to see what the people are saying, not the polls or pundits like us, right? |
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MELBER: |
Yes, totally right. Let’s see how all of this shakes out. And we will be right back after this quick message from the sponsors who keep our lights on. |
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REID: |
And the Big Board lit up! |
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MELBER: |
Yes, we can’t forget the Big Board. Be right back after a couple commercials, folks. Much more to come on this exciting night. |
—END OF TRANSCRIPT—