The Disappearance of Irene Dos Santos by Margaret Mascarenhas Read Free Book Online Page B

coincidences,” said La Vieja Juanita.
    But Efraín’s mother had not believed in the power of dreams any more than La Vieja Juanita believed in Maria Lionza. She had
     worried that her son’s dreaminess would make him vulnerable and weird, and said she wanted his feet planted firmly in the
     world.
    La Vieja Juanita had scoffed, “People live in the world they choose.”
    Efraín is not sure which world his mother had chosen.

    One day La Vieja Juanita said her legs hurt and could Coromoto go to Sorte instead. And so Efraín accompanied his mother,
     which was completely different from accompanying La Vieja Juanita, who was a mostly silent traveling companion. His mother,
     on the other hand, liked to talk to him.
    “When Manolo returns we will move to a city and I will go to the university. I think I would like to be a historian.”
    Sorte was congested because it was one of the feast days of Maria Lionza. A well-dressed woman tourist with European features
     approached their stall almost as soon as they had set it up. She couldn’t make up her mind about which mobile she wanted.
    “My daughter will kill me if I don’t bring her the correct one to hang in the children’s room. Why are they all so different?”
     she asked, and Coromoto explained.
    “First of all,” she said, holding up the mobile of a blond goddess, “Maria Lionza has more than one form. In this one, she
     is Maria, accompanied by two members of her court—El Negro Felipe, and El Indio Guaicaipuro. Together, they are called Las
     Tres Potencias, and they represent the nation and the three races that make it up—white, black, and indio.”
    “But I thought Maria Lionza was mestiza,” said the woman, confused.
    “She can be white
and
she can be mestiza. And she also can be india, or negra. More than one form, remember? When Maria Lionza is in her white
     form, she is depicted as a blond bombshell. When Maria Lionza appears in her mestiza form, she is equally voluptuous, of darker
     skin, but she is called Yara. Often she is depicted as an inversion of the best-known image of El Libertador, the one which
     is found in the middle of every Plaza Bolivar in the center of every village, town, and city. For example, Yara rides a tapir,
     El Libertador rides a horse; Yara is naked, Simón Bolívar wears an army uniform; she holds a human pelvis, he holds a sword.
     It’s two sides of a coin—female, male; nature, civilization; birth, death...You see?”
    “Dios mío, it seems very complicated!” said the woman, who clearly did not see at all. At which point Coromoto suddenly seemed
     to lose interest and began staring into the sea of brightly dressed tourists who floated past like large, colorful fish. Efraín
     held out different representations for the lady’s closer inspection, and finally she selected the white version, paid for
     it, and went away. The customers that followed were less inclined to ask for explanations. Mostly they picked up the first
     mobile that attracted their fancy without really seeing it, nodding disinterestedly when Coromoto pointed out a special feature,
     their eyes already seeking out the next stall, the next tourist attraction.
    In the glaring heat of the afternoon, when the flow of tourists began to dwindle to a trickle, Coromoto left Efraín in charge
     of the stall, saying “Ahora vuelvo.” She walked toward a man standing near the shop that sold Pepsi and cheese tequeños. The
     man handed her something too small for Efraín to see, then both disappeared behind the shop. When she returned, her blouse
     was buttoned all wrong, her eyes had acquired a brightness that seemed somehow false, and she spoke too fast.
    A few days later, when Efraín returned to Sorte with La Vieja Juanita, it was dull and slow at the stall. Taking pity on him,
     she said he could go and play until it was time to leave. Efraín used this opportunity to follow the man from the tequeño
     and Pepsi shop, who was heading over the