After lunch, while the others napped, I slipped out of the house and headed to the zinnia forest that had guided us along the path. The pink, orange, and fuchsia faces of the sunshine flowers watched over me as I wove in, out, and through them. Some had a single row of petals. Some had multiple rows, and some produced a whole round ball of blossoms. Gingerly, I ran my hand over the circle of tiny yellow star-shaped flowers in their center, sprouting from guava marmalade hearts.
After walking for a while, I had somehow circled the wilderness and ended up where I started to stand again on the path. I stood there for an infinity, admiring the beautiful long house.
The single-story structure was capped with a peaked woven palm leaf roof. Its outer walls framed by wood planks, the first two rows of which were painted a deep shade of mint. Above, the house was painted a pale buttercup. Tall windows with evenly spaced vertical iron bars, keeping away wild animals and unknown interlopers alike. A porch wrapped around the front and side of the house, and was covered in concave and convex waves of Spanish tiles the color of ripened tomato flesh. A climbing Jasmine that ran wild along the low, sloping roof greeted me the moment I set foot onto the porch. Lingering in its shade, I stood perfectly still to watch a hummingbird flittering from one blossom to the next. On its heavier branches, vocal finches sang their melodies while showing off their olive jackets and bright-yellow ruffs.
I followed the lilies of the valley that ran along the edge of the porch, but didn’t venture into Mamá’s garden that day. Instead, I returned to the cool great hall, happy, thinking that the rafters high above had bribed the brazen humidity to rise.
The brilliantly polished tile floor was too cool to resist, so I pulled off my hot boots and socks before sitting down on it, stretching my bare legs before me. Painted in pale avocado, and furnished with rosewood settees, with matching chairs grouped around the room, I dreamed the room to be the exotic palace of an Indian prince.
Tired from all my exploring, I crawled under one of the cane bottom settees, took off my cowboy shirt, and laid flat on my back. I fell asleep with the naked boy from the picture in Abuelita’s house dancing in my dreams.