Song of the Mockingbird: My Journey with Josefina

I take a deep breath, close my eyes, and swallow the tea. It’s not as bad as I feared. After about half an hour, the gurgling in my stomach dies down and the nausea dissolves. I laugh and hug Josefina. She cured me!

Josefina brushes away my praise, but her cheeks are pink with pleasure. Josefina and Francisca dress me in a white blouse with lace flounces on the sleeves and Francisca’s beautiful blue-green skirt. Josefina ties a long blue fringed sash around my waist, and Francisca tucks a bright yellow flower in my hair. They all admire me.

Tía Dolores and Ana join us to walk to the fandango. Tía Dolores wears a dark red flowery dress, and Ana wears a black skirt with yellow bands at the hem. A wagon with two mules waits for us. Ana’s husband, Tomás, helps us climb onto the wagon boards while Tía Dolores sits in front with Señor Montoya, and with a jolt we set out in the sunset for the village.

Light and music pour from the doorway of Señora Sanchez’s house. The main room has transformed from the busy working scene of the morning. Brightly dressed ladies and their partners twirl to the music of a violin and guitars, while older men and women cluster on the bancos and children play on the floor or sit on their laps. Francisca and Ana are whirled away to dance. I pull on Josefina’s hand to dance, too, but she looks shocked. We are too young to dance.

Josefina takes us to a corner of a banco and I crowd in beside her. My hands pat in time to the music and my body yearns to be out there twirling, but I’ve been in Josefina’s world long enough to know there are rules about how young girls behave.

We still find plenty to laugh about, taking turns picking our favorite skirts among the dancing ladies. Josefina gives me a little background on the different couples: Francisca is dancing with a handsome boy, and Ana and her husband, Tomás, smile as they dance. Tía Dolores and Señor Montoya are waltzing together, and when I say how well they dance, Josefina looks surprised, as if the thought of them dancing together had never occurred to her.

Candles flicker in their holders, casting a magical glow over the room. Along one wall, a cloth covered table holds tortillas, stew, white cheese, custard, and tamales. The musicians play a lively tune while the men stamp their heavy boots and the women clap their hands.

When the musicians take their break, Tía Dolores comes up behind Josefina to fix her hair. She loosens the ribbon on Josefina’s braid and untangles the wavy strands with her fingers, promising Josefina some lavender oil to comb through it every night once we get home. Watching the two of them together, I suddenly wish Mom were here. She used to braid my hair just this way every morning before school, and I would lean against her just as Josefina leans against her aunt. With a pang, I realize it’s time to go home.

I tell Tía Dolores and Josefina that the party’s wonderful, but it’s time for me to go. Tía Dolores offers to send Miguel with me, but I say I can find my way alone. The party has stirred some memories, I tell Josefina, and I want to find my family, but first I thank them both for taking such good care of me. Tía Dolores nods, smooths my hair, and says simply that she’s glad I came to them.

Josefina walks me to the door, as Miguel waits outside. She says goodbye to me and hugs me tight, and I squeeze her back. We’re bonded through time, I tell her silently, and I hope she can hear me in her heart.