Father, I noticed, seemed so happy from behind the counter of his produce stand, enjoying the procession of patrons in a culture where shopping was done every day because the idea of a supermarket had apparently never occurred to anyone. Grandmothers and maids, mothers and daughters—they all came with their lists in hand.
On Wednesdays, Father would set aside potatoes and chunks of pumpkin for Doña Alfonsa because that was the day when she made her delicious red bean soup.
On Fridays, Señora Luisa counted on him for the ripest plantains for her famous maduros treat. I loved eating her fried plantains because they were never overcooked or bitter, as Mother’s tended to be.
Men also stopped, not to shop, but to discuss the events of the day, and within the small world he had made, Father felt as content and safe as during his working days at the farm.
Standing behind the tall counter with a smile on his face, I can clearly remember the day when he cut a gigantic watermelon slice for me. I also remember how quickly Mother snatched it from my hands, afraid that the juice would stain my heavily starched white cotton shirt. Father never worried about staining his shirt because laundry was a woman’s work. Doing the laundry and keeping the house clean was her job, not mine or his, Father liked to say.
Even so, no matter how much I looked forward to visiting him, these times came with an entry price because he expected me to remain quiet and repress my inquisitive drive before paying attention to me.
Then, only when I was quiet and still, Father would be loving to me. Only then, Father would teach me and speak to me about things. Only then did Father talk to me about the things that he hated and the things he believed. His most pressing lessons were from the old tales, the old fears, and the old prejudices about someone of questionable race passing as white.
My confusion was evident the first time he took my right index finger and rubbed it on the top of my left hand, his eyes widening. That was the sign, he explained—the way to silently tell others that someone was passing for white. Throughout his entire life, he insisted this was an important lesson to learn.