Song of the Mockingbird: My Journey with Josefina

I tell Tía Dolores that I would like to go to the fandango. I look over at Josefina. Is that okay with her? Is she disappointed? But my friend grins. She doesn’t look sad. Tía Dolores smiles. She says it’s a good thing to have enjoyment every now and then, especially at the end of a harvest. Josefina claps, and says tonight I can sleep with her. It’s late and we must be up early for chores.

Tía Dolores traces the sign of the cross on Josefina’s forehead, and then on mine. Her fingers are soft and when she bends close to us, I smell a hint of a lavender perfume. Then I follow Josefina into the courtyard. The sky is inky black and scattered with a million stars shining and shimmering like diamonds. I want to stand and stare, but Josefina leads me to the room where I rested earlier.

Clara and Francisca are already there, tucked into their sheepskin beds. The room is warmly lit with a flickering candle. Josefina unties her sash and takes off her skirt. I do the same. I glance around for some pajamas or a nightgown, but instead, Josefina neatly folds her skirt and sash and tucks them into a trunk in the corner of the room. Then, wearing her white blouse, she unrolls our bedding, folds back the blankets, and climbs in. I wonder what Josefina would think of my purple-striped pajama bottoms and t-shirt I usually sleep in at home.

Josefina sits cross-legged in the bed, and takes down a small broom the size of a whisk tied together with a ribbon at one end from a peg on the wall. She undoes the braid in her hair and runs the broom through it like a brush. Josefina helps me comb out my hair and then I comb hers. Her lovely long hair has waves and curls at the end, and the broomy brush does a surprisingly good job of pulling out the tangles.

I remember my sleepovers with Danielle. We’d sleep on the floor in our sleeping bags, too, and we always did each other’s hair. I like a French braid the best, and Danielle usually wanted me to use the flat iron on hers. I was worried I’d be homesick if I decided to spend the night in this world, but as Josefina blows out the candle and we snuggle into the shop soft sheepskin, I almost feel at home.