The Tequila Worm by Viola Canales Read Free Book Online Page A

Martian too. So let me stop. Now
you
tell me all about this school and why you want to go there. As your godmother, I’ll then see whether I think this is good for your education or not.”
    Tía Petra kept pouring me glass after glass of hibiscus water as I went on and on about the school.
    We heard a loud knock on the door, and in walked Mama, Papa, Lucy, and Berta.
    They sat down at the table and Tía Petra brought in more
buñuelos
and a new pitcher. As everyone helped themselves, Tía Petra sat down at the head of the table and cleared her throat. She said how proud she was to have me as her godchild and how seriously she took her duty of overseeing my education, how impressed she was by Saint Luke’s, and how wonderful it was that I’d won one of the scholarships.
    She took a loud drink and said that I had promised her that I would work just as hard at learning to become a good
comadre
as I would at my school studies and that I would write her every week from Austin, and she agreed to monitor my progress carefully.
    Pow!
I hit my glass with my elbow. All five of us shot up, frantically grabbed the sides of the tablecloth, and jiggled it this way and that, trying to keep the red river from pouring onto the plastic-covered carpet.
    After cleaning up every last drop, Tía Petra stood up, smiled, and said, “My secret has done its magic again!”
    She left the room and returned carrying a roll of plastic, scissors, and a big spool of tape. “Sofia, come here,” she said. She whispered, “Mi’ja, trust me. Don’t move.”
    She wrapped the plastic all around me and then took the tape and sealed me into it like one giant bean taco.
    Everyone started laughing, especially Lucy. “Yeah! She’s always spilling stuff,” Lucy cried. “She should go around like that!”
    I couldn’t believe it. And Tía had even asked me to
trust
her.
    But Tía Petra came and stood right beside me. She cleared her throat and then pointed at me. “
Compadre, comadre,
Lucy, and Berta,” she said, looking directly at my parents. “Yes! Believe in plastic. But you can’t keep Sofia sealed up. Let her go, if that’s her dream. And I promise you, as her godmother, that I’ll help tutor her on everything she needs to know about her life here.” Tía Petra leaned over and yanked the plastic off.
    Before we left she presented me with a secret box. Inside, I found a Bic pen and a plastic-covered spiral notebook. My name was written in bold black letters on the front, and right below, LESSONS ON BECOMING A GOOD
COMADRE
, in even bigger ones. “That’s for your weekly letters to me,” she said, and she gave me her blessing by laying her warm hand on top of my head and then closing her eyes for a second of silence.
    As we stood on the porch, Tía Petra said, “Wait. I want to talk to Berta and Sofia alone for a minute.” Mama, Papa, and Lucy kissed her goodnight and went to wait in the car.
    “Berta, I’m your godmother too, right?”
    “Yes, Tía.”
    “Well, I want you to help Sofia with her goal of going to that school.”
    Silence.
    “Berta, Sofia needs you. She needs you to be her very first
comadre
.”
    “
Ay,
Tía
,
. . . but . . .”
    “But what, mi’ja?”
    “I don’t know if
I
want Sofia to go. It’s so far away.”
    “But it’ll be good training for both of you. It’ll teach you how to stay connected from afar. And when you get good at this, it’ll be easier for you to learn to stay
comadres
with the dead.”
    “With the dead? Tía, you’re joking, right?”
    “No, Berta. Being a
comadre
is never a joke. This is why you must
always
choose them carefully. A true
comadre
is forever.”
    Silence.
    “So will you be Sofia’s first one?”
    “But what do I have to do?”
    “Support her dreams, that’s all. And hers is to go to that school.”
    “But what if it’s a big mistake?”
    “It’s still her dream. She’ll figure that out herself. And if it’s a mistake, it’s her mistake, and she’ll have to