Scintilla

11. Can You Tell Me About Them?

Before

Catalina took out all the clothes I had carefully packed in my luggage. The luggage is on the floor upside down, there are dirty marks on the worn cloth that tell the story of an eight-year-old child stomping on it. Catalina is curled up in the corner of my room, her face is between her knees, and her small shoulders are shaking. 

I lean down and pick up the luggage. I don't know how to say goodbye even if it's temporary, even if it's only to see you later. There is a knot at the base of my throat that makes breathing difficult. I try to stop my tears, Catalina doesn't need to see me break down. Usually, at the first sight of her tears, I would rush to her and try to make it better, but I don't know how to take away the sorrow that I'm responsible for. 

"I'll be back," I say. My voice wobbles but I determinately soldier on. I keep my hands busy carefully placing my clothes back in the luggage. 

"You're a liar," She spits out. I glance at her, her face is wet with tears and snot. Her nose is scrunched up and her eyes are red. She must have cried for a long time. 

I move towards her, so she can look into my eyes when I solemnly whisper, "Have I ever lied to you?"

Catalina's face scrunches up even more, her head shaking up and down, "You lie all the time."

I can't contest her words when we both know the lies I say. My lips shake. This is unfair. It's unfair that she knows how I lie when I say everything will be fine. It's unfair that at her young age, she's been forced to learn how to read people so she can know when to stay away from our father. Once again doubt creeps up my spine. The doubt that's been holding me back. The doubt mom barely managed to subdue. But I know I have to do this. I have to go to school, get my degree, and get a good job so I can come back and take them away from here. 

I place my cold hands on her warm cheeks, "Not about this. I'm not lying about this. I will be back sooner than you think."

Her lips wobble as she throws her arms around me, I can feel the tremors shake her body.

"Please, please don't leave. I'll be good so please don't go."

I hug her tightly, "You're already good, so good and smart and brave and pretty. But I have to go. Catalina, I have to go so that I can learn and get a job and buy a house for mom and you and Jimena and Leo." The sound of her desperate sobs fills the air. "Catalina, you will have a room only for yourself that you can paint whatever color you want. I'll buy you a T.V. and an iPad and I'll be able to take you to dance classes so you can become a ballerina."

"You promise you'll be back?" She sniffles. 

I pull back. "I promise, cross my heart and hope to die." My hand forms a cross over my chest.

She nods in defeat. Her arms wipe away the mess on her face.

"Okay," She whispers.

"I wonder how big you'll be when I come back?" I smile mischievously. "Since you don't like to drink milk maybe Jimena and Leo will be taller than you." 

"No, Jimena and Leo are babies they will never be taller than me!"

"Jimena is six and Leo is four. They will grow really fast, that's why you have to drink more milk." I tickle her tummy. A giggle escapes her lips.