It was a cool summer day; the wind was blowing and rattling the leaves. The sun was high up in the sky almost transforming the sky colors, they appeared to me like those of a blue bird’s wings. The year was 1995. I had just turned six that August. I was a very curious girl with jet black pigtails and big black eyes. I sat on my chair outside, remembering one of the conversations I had had with a girl in my classroom. Before that conversation I had believed that every family was as big as mine. Mine having five girls and one boy. This conversation had made me realize this was not true.
“Mommy,� I asked making my way inside to the kitchen. My mother paid me no attention; keeping her attention to the meat she was cooking. Reaching my small hands up and tugging on her peach colored dress “Mommy!� I said more demanding this time, wanting her attention. Finally she turned around and looked down at me. “Why do I have so many siswers and only one brower?� During this age I had problems pronouncing my T’s, also having a bit of a lisp.
“Ayi, mi amor…� She started to say, pausing for a second she seemed to be thinking. “It all started a long time ago with you great great great uncle.� She stopped to check the meat and walked out into the living room.
“Come, I’ll tell you the rest in the living room.� Following her out into the living room I sat down on the brown, pink flowered couch. Shifting around on the seat I tried to find a comfy spot. I knew what was ahead, she was about to tell me one of those long stories that would make me want to cry and pull my hair out.
My Mother bent forward and brushed my long bangs out of the way of my eyes. “You need a hair cut,� She stated, she was trying to avoid answering my question but I wasn’t going to let her get away with that.
“Mommy, tell me the story.� I pouted, crossing my arms in front of my chest. The sudden motion had caused my bangs to fall back in front of my face. That made my face look slightly evil as if I had a reason behind wanting to hear the story she was about to tell me. Who knows, maybe I did at the time. Now that I think back to that day, I wish I had never asked her that question.
“Alright little one,� Her dark orbs looked into mine I was a bit scared, the look she was giving me reminded me of all the times she told me scary stories. It was that same look again. Moving my hand over I picked up a pillow and held it tightly to my chest. I looked up into her face, my eyes tracing over the winkles decorating her face. She saw them as signs of growing older I though, saw them as marks proving her wisdom.
“Mommy, is it going to be scary?� I asked suddenly almost afraid of the story although it had not yet begun. She shook her head and smiled warmly at me.
“Don’t worry little one.� Her smile made me relax my grip on the pillow I looked up at her my head resting on the soft pillow. Outside I could hear the call of the crow. The wind blowing against the shutters on the widow, forcing the screen door to open and slam shut. I felt a cold shudder run down the middle of my back.
“It all begins with your great, great, great uncle. Many people say he was in a pact with the devil himself,� Her dark eyes seemed to glitter with an ominous feeling. I could feel my breath catching in my throat as the word devil slipped from my mothers lips.
“They said he sold his soul for a book…a book which had all the answers to life, it could make him do things that no man should be allowed to do. He had lots of money, for which he could not account.� I thought about the show I had seen the other day of the people who robbed banks, what if my uncle had robbed banks.
“Mommy, what if he stole it from the people with lots of money, like the banks?� I asked the question popping out of my mouth before I let her go on with her story.
“Mi amor, you’re not supposed to interrupt someone when talking. Remember?� She gave me that hard look of hers that let me know I was in trouble for what I had done. Lowering my head in shame I looked up at her and said very softly, “Sorry� to my mother.
“It’s okay little one, I’ll keep telling you what happened. Well you’re great, great, grandmother was a very greedy woman. She liked getting things for herself but there was never any money. Her father you’re great, great, great, grandfather, was a poor man. He had barely enough money to be able to feed the whole family.� She moved her hand to rest on my shoulder I myself was becoming bored she was taking too long for my liking.
“Hurry up mommy!� I pouted and held the pillow tighter to myself.
“Oh! Just be patient!� Her dark orbs becoming seemingly smaller as she stared down at me. “You grand mother saw that before he even had the money he would be writing it down in his accounting books, down to the exact change. So she followed him one day, hoping to discover what his secret was, why he was so rich and could make all that money in a few days. Finally she came about his secret one day when she was snooping around. She stumbled in on him saying words in a different language.� I tilted my head and started to stare out the window, wondering what language my mother was talking about.
Right as my mother finished her sentence a midnight colored bird smacked right into the window, I let out a slight yelp causing me to go tumbling down to the floor. I looked up at my mother and smiled, a giggle escaping my lips. I laid on my back and held my hands up to her, showing her I wanted to be picked up.
“Are you okay little one?� Her eyes appearing worried as she picked me up, placing me back on the couch, I nodded and motioned for her to go on with the story.
“Alright, as I was saying. The next day when your uncle was gone she slipped into his room, grabbed the book and left running. As she saw it, the book was the only way for her to get all the money in the world that she desired. She would finally be able to buy all the gold, silver and everything she had always wanted but could never afford.� My mother smiled warmly her eyes glazing out like if remembering a distant memory.
I believe to this day that the reason for that look was because she had a very troubled childhood and she had gotten so far in her life, now she could get things and give things to her children that she herself had never gotten.
“She ran as far as she could making all the way to the border of Mexico. Somehow your uncle found her. When he found her nobody knows what he did to her. Some say he kept her as a slave in his house, other say that he let her go with out harm. I myself do not know what happened to her. As legend has it though…� My mother paused and looked down at me, her hand reaching out to lightly touch my chin, her hand was warm. My big eyes twinkled as I looked up at her.
“Mommy, what happens next?� I looked up at her with my big black pondering eyes.
“Be patient little one,� My mother reached out and brushed my bangs away from my face once more. I smiled and lowered my head forcing my bangs to go back in front of my face. My mother shook her head and smiled giving a small laugh.
“As I was saying, as legend has it. He put a curse on the whole Roman bloodline. If we had children they would all manly be woman, the few male children would end up dead or in some form of trouble. While the woman…well if they have children there children will all forget who we are. They will never bother to tell their children about this. I was lucky my mother told me. I tell you as I have to all your other sisters. I doubt though…that they will bother to tell their kids when they have them.� I nodded and held my pillow my mind filling with what my mother had told me.
“So I’m a curse?� I wanted it to not be true my eyes watering up as I buried my head into the pillow.
“No…no little one you are not a curse, if anything you are a blessing.� She smiled, moving her hand under my chin she lifted my head and brushed her lips against my forehead.
“Okay mommy,� I jumped off the couch and walked back into the living room to go on a search for something sugary to drink, before entering the kitchen I turned back and smiled saying to my mother “Don’t worry mommy, I’ll tell my kids when I grow up.�
To this day I still remember all that as if it were yesterday. I can’t forget how sad she was when she spoke those last words. I felt as if though she felt it was her fault we weren’t going to tell our kids. That she had Americanized us too much, I can’t blame my mother, she brought us here for a better life, but with that life came a loss of who we really are. I think about my aunts, all of them have a problem. They are either too in love with themselves to stop and see the problems they are making for their children. Or they are so deep into drugs they can’t remember their own names. My sisters are faced with the same problems, although most of my sisters deny it. As with one of my sisters, her eyes are always glazed over as if she were high. I fear for her life as well as my nieces when she gets into the car with her.
Every night I lay in bed praying to a god I no longer believe exists for them to make it home safe. I pray for the curse my mother told me long ago about to come to an end. With the birth of my nephew I saw a future that future for him is slowly fading day by day as I see him doing things that would make any person cry. At night sometimes I lay in bed wondering what lies ahead for me. A life full of sadness, or if I can turn it around and make something of myself…
In this family, we have been blessed. We have talents, wither it be singing, artistic or writing. We have them, although I believe that a part of this curse was we may have them, but we will never know how to do anything with them. The only thing is that something always seems to interfere and stop us from becoming better. I wonder if someday that same thing will affect me. I wonder if I will end up being just like my sisters some day.
A whole new generation was born in 1998. I was blessed with a niece and a nephew. I’m not all that sure that either of them will continue with the telling of this tell that my mother told me. My proof is comes in the form of my niece, she doesn’t bother to so much as talk to my mother, she’s too busy pretending not to talk the language. My nephew I see big troubles in his future, he has all the classic signs. I hope my suspicions are proven wrong and he grows up to be the one good male out of the whole Roman bloodline. I know in my future I will tell my children, some day. I will also make sure that if my children don’t tell their children I will tell them. I want my family to know what happened to us so long ago. Why most of us are so…different if you could say it.
I’m not sure what lies ahead for my family bloodline, I hope that in due time the bloodline will have been worn thin so the curse is gone. Or gone enough so that it’s almost none existent, and we will be able to carry on a good life full of happiness where no body is as messed up as we are now.