Fruit of the Drunken Tree

by Ingrid Rojas Contreras

“When you are in love, you are in lust. And if you are in lust, satisfy yourself, then walk away. Never do anything for his sake, not until you are sure he is committed. Then and only then can you be nice to him—but, be careful. Don’t give yourself entirely. Never owe anybody anything, least of all the man you are with. That’s how you’ll remain in power.”

“What if you’re stuck?”

“Then you leave him.” “But if you’re stuck—” Mamá fluffed the skirt. “It’s your own fault, Petrona, if you choose to be a fool.”

didn’t know what Archbishops did, but I did know all about their pretty hats. That’s because I watched Holy Week live from Rome every year.

Haha

Haha

Haha

the Father droned on about the same old stories,

Haha

the Father sealed the dark ritual by dipping his fingers in a golden chalice,

“I feel…” she said. “I feel I am made of light.”

it seemed like it wasn’t the Spirit of Wisdom settling into her but the Spirit of Holy Fear.

the howling wind rustling the leaves of the Drunken Tree.

It lived as some kind of imminent sense, some kind of dark wingspan that slowly advanced on our house.

Simile dark

Simile

San Juan de Rioseco

Papá

you’re as fearful as my workers.”

Uh-oh ..,,

the usual signs of the militarized groups—random killings, rape, peasants forced to harvest drugs, people kicked off their land—were missing.

See, I was there when they saw quote unquote the guerrillas.

Haha - ghosts and guerrillas.

Franciscan ghosts showed up in full robes asking for a glass of water, and if you didn’t give it to them fast enough, they revealed to you their skeletal grin.

I said I thought the Franciscan ghosts sounded very nice.

Haha

Mamá said we needed the car, so he got Emilio to pick him up.

There was something about a taxi that was unlike any other place on earth.

Through the night I dreamed

I hated Gorrión and hated the Santiagos too for not seeing what was happening to me,

as the men descended on me like a pack of wolves,

Simile To beat her? Or …? Question

starchy, never-to-be-worn-again clothes.

Doña Lucía.”

What is the difference between Doña and Señora? Honorific? Question

Haha

The hill looked deserted—not like there were no people around, but like there was someone lying in wait.

Petrona stood contained in the white bell of her dress, smiling, knowing she looked pretty.

Cassandra stared at Petrona’s shoes.

Orange air blew in sheets

I wondered where they led.

the person on the horse seemed like a child.

The orange hill sloped down, empty.

Simile

I liked how the shacks were constructed out of random parts.

a dresser covered in the kind of vinyl paper Mamá used to line her kitchen drawers.

I saw plenty of crucifixes too, worn and desolate,

Julián,

that creepy little boy,

The trick with little boys from invasiones is to say yes to whatever they want only you tell them later—all the while you walk away. Isn’t that right, Petrona?” “Sí, it’s true. La Señora really did grow up in an invasión, didn’t she?”

Petrona’s shack was constructed in a nice, simple way.

The wall was about six meters tall and sleek, obviously put there so that the people of the invasión wouldn’t climb over. Above the wall to the left I saw the tops of wealthy condos that rose into the clear sky, and to the right, an imperious mountain.

knew Petrona had nine siblings, but there were only her two older brothers and a young girl,

many fresh flowers and potted plants. A metal wind chime

We kept our distance like we were at a border, none of us with papers.

Haha simile - powerful: a border between two worlds,

“Aurora.”

the wind was blowing like a Jesus apocalypse, but the candle didn’t go out.”