Song of the Mockingbird: My Journey with Josefina

A different kind of house sits in its place. It’s adobe too, but much bigger than ours, with only a few teeny windows and a giant wooden front door. It looks like a fortress. The driveway, cars, and telephone lines are gone, too. A few chickens are pecking near the door, and there are goats by the house. Panic wells up inside me and I have a feeling like I’m drowning. Is this what it feels like to go crazy? Then the explanation occurs to me. I’m dreaming, of course.

Then, a girl comes out of the little door cut right into the big front door of the house. She’s about my age, ten, with a long, shiny, dark brown braid. She’s carrying an empty basket. She stops when she sees me and we stare at each other. Then she drops the basket and rushes over to me.

She asks if I am lost. I’m covered with dirt. Am I hurt? Now I’m kind of freaking out again. The words coming out of her mouth aren’t English, but I understand her. But then again, I am dreaming, so weirdness is normal. It sounds like she’s speaking Spanish. I took Spanish class back in Chicago, but I don’t know much. I wonder if the girl knows English.

I respond that I do need help, but then I can feel my eyes bulge. I’m speaking Spanish, too! Very carefully, I explain that I was just sitting on the rock… still Spanish. And the girl is nodding like she understands me, too. Okay. I can go with it.

The girl peppers me with questions, but I can’t stop staring at her clothes. She’s dressed just like me, a long blouse, full, gathered skirt, a long sash, and moccasins. She has a leather pouch tied to the sash at her waist. And the house and chickens… This must be a dream taking place in old-fashioned days. But it’s very vivid.

The girl introduces herself as Josefina Montoya. She asks me what my name is, and how I came her rancho. I look around. She must mean this place. It is like a ranch. I see cottonwood trees, fields spread out like blankets, and men in wide hats working. Two men ride across the field on horses. A big herd of sheep is milling around bleating in an enclosure made of sticks.

When I look confused, Josefina reaches out and fingers a long tear in my skirt, and then looks at a streak of dirt on my forehead. She says to come inside, where Tía Dolores can help.

Josefina leads me toward the huge wooden door. We pass the goats, who sniff me interestedly. The little door cut into the big door stands open. I stumble on the high threshold of the door and Josefina says that I don’t feel well. That is certainly true, because whatever is happening feels more and more like reality and less like a dream. Josefina squeezes my hand and says she’ll make me chamomile tea. Tía Magdalena says that’s the best for calming nerves.

I think of the chamomile tea Mom always makes for me when I feel sick. Tears well up in my ears and I swipe my hand across my eyes. But Josefina saw the tears and exclaims that I shouldn’t worry. I am safe now. She’ll take care of me. Just as Josefina leads me through the doorway, something makes me turn to the horizon. And there I see, like Chicago’s skyscrapers, three rounded spires, standing tall against the blue New Mexico sky.