Song of the Mockingbird: My Journey with Josefina

We end up staying so long at Tía Magdalena’s that we never make it over to Señor Sanchez’s. Tía Dolores has to fetch us to go back home and rest before the fandango. She brings us a few tamales to eat on the way.

As we leave Tía Magdalena’s house, my heart feels lighter than it had since the day we left Chicago. It feels amazing to know that just talking about it can make me feel so much better. It’s like having a healing power in your words. And all you have to do is notice when someone is sad or lonely, and you can talk with them and feel better, just like Tía Magdalena did with me. I could even do what Tía Magdalena and Josefina have done. I could help other people by listening when someone just needs to talk.

I swallow, and then suddenly ashamed of myself. Henry, Mom, and Dad seem so happy with the move, but they’ve had big adjustments, too. I’ve never tried talking to them. And even Audrey at school. She might be trying to be friends with me because she could use someone to talk to. And I haven’t been paying attention to that. I realize how many times Josefina has noticed when I am feeling sad or tired. She’s lost even more than I have, and somehow she still manages to pay attention to others. Maybe listening a little more to others and less to myself would make me happier, too.

We walk fast to get back to Josefina’s home. When we get there, we all curl up in our beds to rest before the fandango. When we get up, the sun is setting outside in a beautiful glow of dusty purple and fiery red-orange. Black clouds are silhouetted against the horizon. I feel the old party excitement rising, and Josefina and her sisters feel it, too. Francisca is singing as she twists her braids up onto her head. Clara is dancing with Josefina in a rare light-hearted moment.

Josefina offers to help me with my hair. She sits me down and combs out my mussed braid, carefully untangling the snarls with her fingers. She braids my hair again neatly. She lends me a blue silk ribbon and I tie it at the end of my braid. Josefina pulls on a blue-green skirt and a fresh blouse. We stand and admire each other in our party finery.

Tía Dolores sticks her head in the doorway and says it’s time to go. We’re all laughing and talking as we head out into the twilight.

Inside Señor Sanchez’s house, the dancing has begun. Ladies in full skirts trimmed with ribbon sway with gentleman and short jackets. A fiddler and a guitar player fill the air with a tune that reminds me of square-dance music. Candles flicker and flare on the walls and in a corner, a table is spread with a cloth embroidered with flowers. A painted pottery bowl flower sits in the middle.

Francisca is whisked away immediately by a handsome young man, and Tía Dolores laughs and accepts a dance from Tomás, Ana’s husband. My feet are tapping, but I noticed no one my age is waltzing. Instead, Josefina pulls me to sit on the floor with her. Other kids are sitting on the floor and crowded on the bancos with their grandparents, watching the dancers and clapping in time. I hum with the music. I whisper to Josefina that I could probably play this on my flute. I take the little bird from my pouch and start to lift it to my lips, but Josefina shakes her head no.

It seems like the fandango is not as much fun as I thought. Josefina grins and says we should go practice the dance steps outside. I jump up right away, but then, a wonderful fragrance floats toward us. Señora Sanchez is putting tortillas and a pot of chicken stew on the table. My stomach is rumbling. It’s craving food almost as much as my feet are craving dancing.