Golden light filters through the embroidered curtains, coloring the old-fashioned apartment in warm, orange tones. The residence is nearly silent except for the sound of a robotic vacuum cleaner sweeping the rooms, the sizzle of oil and clanks of pans from food being prepared in the kitchen, and the melodic hums of an elder woman singing.
"We were strangers, on a crazy adventure... never dreaming, how our dreams would come true..." the 70-something Hispanic lady murmurs as she alternates between the fridge, sink, and cutting board in well-practiced motions. Her long salt-and-pepper braid swings from side to side over her checkered apron as she moves effortlessly around the old but impeccable kitchen.
"Now here we stand, unafraid of the future..." she continues, enraptured by inaudible music "At the beginning with..."
The doorbell rings, surprising her. She washes her hands on the sink and rubs a finger along her temple, causing her pupils to flash with white squares and dots.
The doorbell rings again.
"Ahi voy!" (I'm coming!) She yells, walking out the kitchen while drying her hands on her apron. She opens the apartment door and finds a smiling fourteen-year-old Latin boy on the other side.
"Oh! Good morning Miguelito! You came early today!" the old woman says with a cheer, happy to see him. She walks back to the kitchen waving him in "Come in, come in! Get yourself comfortable!"
"Thanks Ms. Garcia!" says the lanky, olive-skinned boy stepping in. He wears an old red cap with the remains of the phrase 'make america great again' stitched to the front and an adult-sized white t-shirt with a faded NASA logo that covers his skinny body almost like a dress. A skinny shoulder poking out the gigantic collar "And yes, I'm starting earlier. Lots of errands today!"
He closes the door behind him and takes off his sandals, leaving them next to the two other pairs of shoes by the door.
"Oh, is that so?" says the old woman from the kitchen as she dices an onion, "Are you going to the market today?"
The now barefoot boy hums affirmatively and takes off his red cap, hanging it on a nearby coat rack with an umbrella and jacket of a private high school. He grabs the rim of his oversized t-shirt and slides it up.
"Yeah! My abuelita gave me a long shopping list and I gotta go as early as possible before the market gets packed. And after that...!" he pauses as he lifts the t-shirt past his head and takes it off, revealing a hairless nude body below. He hangs the shirt over his red cap on the coat rack, "After that we'll be at the movies until my second house visit. And after that, we'll eat and hang out by the malecon until my last house visit in the afternoon."
"Ah, I see… But Miguelito, isn't that too much time outside for your grandma? Won't she get tired?"
"Uh…?" the boy says, stretching his arms, pacing naked around the living room. He suddenly realizes what she meant, "Oh, right! You don't know about her yet! Um, abuelita isn't accompanying me to my house visits anymore. I'm..."
Ms. Garcia interrupts him stepping out of the kitchen while holding a steaming pan, her expression one of deep concern.
"Miguel! You're visiting houses alone!? That's too risky! Just today, they announced two more boys missing! You shouldn't...!"
The boy opens his eyes wide and shakes his hands, realizing his mistake.
"No, no! I'm not going outside alone! What I mean is that since the last time I came here, many things have happened! And now whenever I'm outside I'm escorted by... by my..." he hesitates, scratches his head and talks in a whisper "By my novia..."
The old woman opens her eyes and smiles, makes a teasing whistle, "Miguelitooo! Good for youuu! Is she anyone I know?"
The boy smiles and shakes his head, "Nah, I don't think so. She lives by Redwood, so this has been her first time in the Bay. I've taken her sightseeing between house visits, but there's still a lot of places to go to!" he says with pride, then stretches his neck to peek in the hallway leading deeper into the apartment, "She's actually waiting for me downstairs to finish... Um... speaking of, is Maria already awake?"
Ms. Garcia huffs, "Ha! I wished! She's asleep and will probably wake up until the sauce start cracking. Want to sit and wait for her? Have you had breakfast already?"
The boy shakes his head, paces impatiently around the living room, "N-no, thank you, I'm having breakfast with Caro later... T-that's her name, by the way! Short of Carolina." he walks to a nearby cupboard and grabs an empty mug, turns it around, "Um... Is it okay if I leave Maria's... milk in this mug? I'm in a hurry today..."
The old woman laughs and turns the burner down, cleans her hands on her apron and walks out of the kitchen.
"No, no, a mug!? What are you saying? Maria is just lazy. It's past eight anyway..."
She taps her temple, making her pupils flash white again. She waits for a second, grumbles, and tries again. After a couple more tries, she sighs and takes a long breath before yelling, "Mija...! Wake uuup...! Miguel is hereee...!"
The two wait a moment for a reaction, then a pan in the kitchen starts smoking and Ms. Garcia rushes back.
"Just…! Just go to her room, Miguelito!!"
"Y-you sure?" the naked boy says, taking a couple of steps in the hallway, "Is it really okay for me to go inside and...?"
"Yeah, yeah! You're in a hurry, and she knows you'll be coming all week, so she won't mind. Oh! And I hope you tell me the rest of the gossip about this Redwood girl later! 'Carolina', right?"
The boy smiles and nods and enters the carpeted hallway. He hasn't been here before, so he takes a moment to look at the frames and items hanging from the blue walls and window edges.
Most of the decorations are small, framed screens showing a sequence of family photos and GIFs. Children's drawings, holiday trips, and birthdays with people Miguel doesn't recognize. There are also shelves and narrow tables with artisan ceramics and a couple of military medals that catch the boy's attention.
He steps closer and reads the text below each honorific, not fully understanding the military lingo beyond the word 'Airforce'. He's about to walk away when he notices a nearby frame with a static photo of what seems to be the old woman in her youth. He stops and gets closer.
Ms. Garcia is nearly unrecognizable in her dusty guerrilla clothes and bulky aviator helmet, yet her big smile is unmistakable. She's posing above the wreckage of a white neoclassical building holding a rocket launcher on her shoulder, an out-of-focus crowd behind.
Next to the image, there's another photo showing a group of soldiers in red attires in a formal military ceremony. Miguel gets even closer, searching for the young version of the old woman amidst the rows of stoic faces.
An old robotic vacuum cleaner suddenly scuttles between his bare feet, scaring him. He steps aside, shakes his head, and leaves the family memorabilia behind. He walks to the end of the hallway, where he finds a pink door full of anime stickers and small LED lights shaped in a heart pattern. He grabs the handle, takes a breath, and opens the door ajar.
A cute room of a teenage girl on the other side. The usual chaos of clothes, books, plushies, beauty products, and garbage spread around the pastel furniture and white carpet on the floor.
The bright morning light pours from between purple curtains and illuminates a fourteen-year-old Hispanic girl with long obsidian hair, grey tank top and black panties sleeping on the bed in an unnatural pose with her tanned limbs knotted in the bed's pink sheets.
***