La India

After that day, every night I spent my time in the house upstairs with Artemisa. She cooked dinner for me and grandmother. Once dinner was over, my grandmother went back to her own house and I stayed. We lied on the couch together, her on top of me, and talked about non-important things.

Some nights she wanted to stand on the balcony. We stood at opposite sides of it, with her facing the beach. She let the ocean breeze take her back to her old homes. Her long curly hair had been treated by my grandmother so it was straight and smooth. It fluttered behind her like a midnight blue fabric.

She was no longer afraid to stand in the light. She kept all her lights on while we were together. Her copper skin glowed with a happy radiance.

One night, on a Saturday, she wanted to go to the beach. We closed down her house and went down to my grandmother. She asked her for permission. My grandmother knew her roots and happily gave her permission. Again she warned and threatened me.

We walked down the quiet street to where the concrete turned into sand. She took off her gypsy sandals and glided on the sand with her long skirt quivering behind her. Even after all this time, she dressed just as before: loose tunics with long skirts or floor length cotton dresses, three or four chains and long necklaces, bangles up to her elbows, and rings on every finger.

I followed behind her slowly. I didn’t want to disturb the trance the ocean put her in. She flowed to the ocean like it was pulling her in. As she was reaching the tide, she started pulling her skirt up to around her knees. She entered the shallow waters and walked until the waters wet her ankles. She dug her toes into the mushy sand.

“Mi amor,” she called for me. “Mi amor, me siento como que el oceano me esta llamando. El quiere que vuelva a el.*””

“Mi negra,” I responded. “I want you to come back to me. The ocean will always be inside you, but I will always be with you.”

She turned to me just then. The moon shone on her face. She looked almost like a ghost lost at sea. I opened my arms to her.

“Vuelve a mi. Come back to me.”

Her blank face went from ghostly to a sign of recognition. She had been hypnotized by the ocean. She ran to me and fell into me. I could feel her return to the earth after being at sea. She was drenched and smelled like the ocean. Mi negra was like mermaid being freed with the gift of legs.

“Come,” I pulled her towards the street. “We need to get you inside. You’re wet and its cold.”