Barnacle Love by Anthony de Sa Read Free Book Online

Her mother gave them to her. How she prayed during the bus ride home, prayed to all the saints in heaven.
Please, Jesus, give me a new leg—flesh and bone
… How she imagined her leg growing, a ticklish tingling, and then, her final prayer:
Dear Lord, please give me a man—a family to take care of.
    “That very next morning, like every other morning, I went down to the shore to meet my father. When I saw him rowing in toward the shallows, his boat cutting through the foam, I saw that he’d brought me a gift richer than a new leg or real pearls—he’d brought me you.” She breathes out her last words, then playfully whips his face with the damp tea towel.
    Cara Mãe
,
    I’m writing this on the eve of Christmas. It is now two full months and I must beg your forgiveness. Is this why you have not written? Or is it because I have made it clear I have no plans of returning? Before I left I told you that our small island held nothing for me. I still believe this to be true. What is it,
Mãe
? Tell me.
    I find myself exhausted by the pace at which the images of life back home run across my mind: growing up as a boy, patches of green fields and beds of calla lily, Gilberto—our toothless dog, my brown-eyed siblings, your hard-working hands against your black dress and veil. And then in a wave I think of my pressed cotton shirts and new leather shoes with their tight shoelaces, windows that would not open, houses too narrow. I gulp for air but there is nothing but chalk and dust. But these are my images, my burdens. Believe me when I say I do not blame you,
Mãe
.
    My thoughts are with you all this Christmas.
    Manuel
    The day begins filled with the joy and promise that only Christmas can bring. Pepsi has gotten up early to get everything done: the chicken is stuffed, the dough is pounded into plump balls and allowed to rise in the kitchen’s heat. Manuel imagines he is in his own little house, not Andrew’s. Children are playing around the tinseled tree, a girl and a boy. They’re trying to peek attheir presents. Manuel is looking through the window outside. Pepsi is cooking up a wonderful meal, stuffing and roast potatoes with
chouriço
, and she’s making his favorite cod dish to remind him of home. Manuel walks in, twirls his daughter then throws the boy high into the air and catches the giggling copy of himself securely in his arms …
    “Manuel, Father didn’t come home last night. Do you know where he got to?”
    “I go look for him, Pepsi. You no worry.”
    Manuel circles the fields, then runs to the cliffs to see if there is any unfortunate evidence. For hours he looks along the coast, down toward the foamy cove, then scans the landscape. He does not want to go back empty handed. He returns only to hear some muffled shouts coming from inside the shed. Andrew is curled around an empty jug. He looks up and shields his eyes from the white sky. He then smiles at Manuel. It has been a while since Andrew has smiled at Manuel in that way. It feels good.
    Manuel drapes Andrew over his shoulder like the animals he drags to the tree. Andrew is much larger than Manuel, big and heavy. Manuel manages to drop him into his chair. Pepsi slams a lid onto the counter. Andrew struggles but cannot pull himself up to the table.
    “Everything is cold,” she says. The candles have burned down to nothing.
    “
Feliz Natal
, Andrew.” Manuel smiles.
    Pepsi decides not to ruin the day further. “Dad, will you cut the bird now?” she asks.
    “Why don’t you ask the man of the house?” he slurs.
    His words are filled with bitterness. Manuel pretends they have not hurt him. Pepsi is about to say something until her father breaks in: “I have a gift for you, Manuel.”
    Manuel looks to Pepsi, who twists her hair into tight ringlets.
    “Dad, please don’t embarrass me.” She struggles to get up. “Please don’t do this to me.”
    “Shush!” He pounds the table with his knotted fist. Pepsi tries to push herself away but Andrew