Sugar, Sugar
Once Elena had her baby, most of the household chores had fallen on Violeta. This included keeping a watchful eye on Sylvina who tended to follow chickens and butterflies out of the house. Typical tropical summer days were so hot, the crickets couldn’t muster the energy to make music with their scratchy legs and the only sound in the still-dead air were the few flies that had the will to do their annoying job. In minutes the parched blue sky would gather its clouds in billowy grayness and burst into rain, unannounced. Violeta was the only one to ever see it coming. Everyone else was slowed to a stop in the cruel heat. She would often dash outside, running from dirt floor to the ground outside, to pull the sheets and clothes off the drying lines, always managing to get the clean laundry down, arms full with the smell of sunshine, before the first fat drops of the five-minute tropical rain fell. There were some days when Violeta could smell the rain coming and she would have the shampoo and chair at the ready to wash Sylvina’s hair in the torrent of water. It’s what Silvina lived for - those moments of whimsical amusement that only Violeta could conjure up in their life of communal poverty.
Since the sixteenth century, sugar plantations or ingenios formed the engine that fueled the island’s fledgling growth. The plantations were the life’s blood of la Republica Dominicana and those who were lucky enough to live near them managed an easier life. So it was on this day that the residents of Quisqueya felt the prideful luck of their fortune to be living in the shadows of the large, burping ingenio [1]. It was expanding again and there was plenty of work available. Word spread fast. Violeta pedaled up the hill, jumped off her bike and leaned it against a tree. It was late in the afternoon. A donkey in the field twitched its long ears as it made its way to sit softly in the shady spot under the tree. She scratched the donkey’s ear and thanked her ahead of time for watching over her bicycle.
Violeta rushed up to the glass door where she was pointed to, her heart pounding in her chest. This was the chance of a lifetime and she had been waiting for a sign. Ever since Príamo was taken away from her she was agonizingly and secretly adrift. She yearned for something that would fling open a door of opportunity to the much bigger world outside. Over the last six months she had been observing the shiny black cars glide along the rutted roads of her beloved hometown; the men in their dark pants and matching jackets, hats pulled down importantly over their brow, sitting tall in the back seat of their chauffeur-driven cars. She smelled power in their tracks. Distinctly unfamiliar but alluring nonetheless, it left her in a wanderlust at the dust left behind.
She wiped the sweat off her face with her shirt and tucked it in carefully as she shook her curls and mind into place. Violeta tapped on the door and opened it gently.
“Buenas tardes señorita, ¿cómo te puedo ayudar? [2]” Oh my, how lovely she was! The woman behind the desk was cool and crisp, not a hair out of place.
“I understand you are hiring operators. I am perfect for the job!” Violeta announced. La señora regarded her carefully. Violeta went on nervously, “I am a fast learner! I can do many things! And I can start tomorrow!”
She realized suddenly she hadn’t given a thought to what she would say, and she couldn’t believe what had just come out of her mouth! Who would help Mamíta with the house and Sylvina? Doña Emilia didn’t even know where she was. But something bigger had taken over. A wave of cool, fresh air filled her lungs with the promise of shinier, dust-free possibilities.
“How old are you? What is your name?” asked Señora Valdez as she motioned Violeta to the chair in front of her. Violeta sat down carefully as she pulled her wits about her.
“Me llamo Violeta Garcia. My mother sews the finest men’s suits. She is Doña Emilia. Do you know her?”
“No, no, querida” Sra. Valdez smiled. “Y, cuantos años tiene?” [3]
“Eighteen!” sixteen -year-old Violeta announced. Sra. Valdez examined her carefully and didn’t argue. She knew she was younger but she had a spirit and a presence she hadn’t found in any of the women that applied for the position earlier. Sra. Valdez needed at least one who could think for herself and act on her own initiative. She perceived an intelligence in this proud young head that she thought she might be able to tame and cultivate. Valdez offered her a job on the spot. Violeta didn’t know what to say. Her spirit left her body momentarily as she heard herself say “Yes!” Could she start tomorrow? “Oh Yes!” she gushed.
Violeta floated out of the office. Her feet didn’t feel the ground until she found herself pedaling wildly down the hill, hair blown straight out behind her. It was happening. Her life was about to start. Somehow, she knew this. But what was she going to tell Mamíta? Pebbles, leaves and dirt flared up behind Violeta as her blue bicycle streaked down the hill from the sugar plantation site. Gulping mouthfuls of air, she realized she hadn’t been breathing and there was a loud buzz in her head.
Suspended in wide-eyed exhilaration, she reviewed the strange and wonderful experience in her mind: the tick-tack of women’s high heels on the marble floors - marble! She’d heard of such a thing, but she’d never seen floors gleam like that, nor shoes make such music, and the ceiling seemed to disappear into el cielo [4]. The walls, the lighting, the whirring of the fans, all echoed with significance. Rarified. If she knew the word she would have uttered it. She thought about how she could get her hair into that tight little bun that Sra. Valdez had wound neatly at the nape of her neck. Could she control her curls? Who had bobby pins? She would try tonight. She screeched to a halt at Gisela’s house to pick up Sylvina.
“What have you escaped from now mujer loca?” laughed Gisela as her best friend leaned her bicycle against the tree with eyes luminous and hair, a halo.
“You won’t believe what I just did and what just happened!!”
Gisela stood and stared at her friend. Nothing could surprise her when it came to her best friend. Violeta was always up to something.
“I applied for a job and I got it! I start tomorrow!”
“Como! What are you talking about? You can’t work. We are not old enough and any way, you already have a job. You have Sylvina!”
“I know, I know…I have to tell Mamita. I don’t know how to tell her. I didn’t think I would get it. I didn’t think this would happen, but, Gisela, I’m so excited! I don’t think I’ll sleep tonight.”
“So, tell me, señorita. Where is your job? What are you hired to do? Who would hire you, eh?”
“I got a job at el ingenio! As a phone operator!”
“What’s an operator? Hey, where’s Sylvina? We better go find her. I hope she hasn’t snuck out the back door. Pepita had three baby chicks last night. I can’t keep her away from them.”
“Gisela, do you have any bobby pins? I need to put my hair up tomorrow.”
“I don’t but I’m sure my sister Elsa does. I’ll get you some after we find Sylvina.”
Sure enough they found Sylvina with the baby chicks, playing babysitter as Pepita pecked and scratched not too far away. With a hand on her hip, Violeta grabbed her sister, and raced out the door. Gisela came running with a few bobby pins, pushed them into her friend’s hand and squeezed her for good luck. She always needed it. Violeta stuffed the pins into her pocket, grabbed her bicycle with one hand and her sister’s hand with the other. As they walked home, Violeta wondered how she was going to break the news to her dear Mamíta.
[1] ingenio - sugar factory
[2] Cómo te puedo ayudar? - How can I help you?
[3] Y, cuantos anos tiene? - And, how old are you?
[4] el cielo - the sky
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