29. Machi y La Nena

“La reina soy yoy.”
“Y yo soy el rey.”
“Soy yo.”
Machi, David and La Nena ran into their jungle. La Nena led the two boys. She knew their jungle as well if not better than they did. She was thinner, smaller (although a few years older). She ran between the trees. Her long threadbare skirt rose and fell. Underneath she wore blue jeans. Marina hated losing sight of them but she gave up following. The branches were dense and everywhere now shelters had sprung up, more and more followers of La Virgen del Palo were living in Moon Park.
The running children erupted from behind her. “Otra salida.” Machi was in front now. “Otra salida.” She wanted to know what it was they did playing together for hours in the jungle and in Machi’s room. Graciela La Vieja didn’t appear to mind having her daughter alone for hours with two mataperros. None of them were going to school. That couldn’t be good.
She stepped aside to let a group of women find the entrance to the path. From where she stood Marina could see Machi’s squat tree, now surrounded by offerings of fruit and flowers and candles. La Vieja was calling La Nena. Marina heard the girl squeal behind her and take off with the two boys into the jungle, away from her mother's voice. Who could blame the saint girl for wanting to play.
She was being kissed from the side and here was Fara. “You believe in La Virgen del Palo? Have you seen her?” Someone else for Fara to pray to. The children returned, screaming. They had gathered forces, joined hands with at least twenty other children and had formed a long chain. They ran through the crowd. The saint girl was in the center of the chain. Adults ran away to make room for them but were encircled. They came after Marina and Fara, swept them into their circle. “Isn’t that Machi?” Fara was shaking. Marina felt no fear and wondered why. She could tell the children were playing, experimenting with power. As fast as they’d engulfed Marina and Fara they were gone. La Vieja emerged from the trees in her long skirt and mantilla, looked at La Nena with an expression Marina couldn’t read, authoritative, gentle and terrifying. What did a mother do to a saint that disobeyed? She called out. “Graciela La Nena, basta ya.” The saint girl dropped her hands and the children ran off in every direction. La Nena ran straight into her mother, wrapped her arms around her and let herself be hugged. Machi and David stayed close to her. They had become inseparable. Every night Machi begged to be allowed to sleep in Moon Park by La Virgen del Palo. The children’s screams of separation, histrionic to Marina, got under La Vieja’s skin. Some nights La Vieja took pity and let La Nena sleep in Machi's room with Machi and David. Fara clutched Marina’s hand. “You know them? Take me to meet them.” She pulled Marina toward the crowd that had grown around the Gracielas and the children.
Already there was a carnival ambiente and they had to make their way among the grills and food carts of the street food vendors set up along the edges of the jungle. Fara wanted her miracle but she stopped and bought herself a skewer of grilled meat. “You know I have to eat.”
They pushed into the crowd. Marina could barely breathe. Fara pulled her deeper into the roiling mass of people. Two women elbowed each other, fighting for a small opening to Marina’s left. Fara kept pulling. Marina couldn’t imagine being that determined to pray. Maybe god required La Nena’s help. The crowd pushed forward at once and Marina and Fara almost fell. Marina heard herself scream. She was being pressed from every side. Fara clung tight to her hand but she was being pulled away by the press of the crowd. Two hands reached toward Marina and pulled her forward out of the crowd into the clearing around La Virgen del Palo. She saw la Vieja smiling at her, looking closely at her face, slapping her on the back, telling her to breathe. She let out a cry. She was suddenly free, moving her arms about as if swimming. She took a deep breath. Fara landed beside her, stumbled and fell on her knees. She’d managed to hang on to Marina.
“This one is the one who wants to pray.” Marina pushed Fara toward the elder Graciela. La Vieja laughed. “You pretend you’d only pray to Marx if you believed in life after death, that he was up in the sky, but I can see that you pray in secret when you’re alone in the dark.” Marina laughed and shook her head. “Help her. She wants it.” La Nena reached for Fara’s hand and guided her to the spot amid the fruit and flowers and photographs of loved ones, the ill, the imprisoned, the desaparecidos. For the first time Marina saw among the photos by the tree a small framed snapshot of Ori giving a speech at a rally for Karaya liberation. It had been on the small table by Machi’s bed. A small votive candle flickered beside it.
La Nena emerged from behind the tree. “Ask the Virgin. Ask the Virgin out loud or inside your own head. It doesn’t matter to her. But it might matter to God. God doesn’t like prayers that are secrets.” La Nena looked straight at Marina. Machi and David watched her, sitting where they always sat on their fat tree branch. Fara knelt. “Do I close my eyes? I never prayed to a saint before. I’m from Casa Zion. We have our own way to pray.”
“God listens everywhere.” La Nena laughed. “But he likes some places better.” She knelt beside Fara and pantomimed closing her eyes, bowing her head, then kissing the effigy of the virgin inside the tree. This was the closest Marina had gotten to the apparition and she studied the figure. Sometime, someone must have placed a statue of the virgin into a hollow of the tree that closed around it. Was it a miracle that the virgin had burst from the trunk?
“Talk to her. Call her by her name. Ask her.” La Nena spoke in a soft voice and stroked Fara's hair. Fara knelt, closed her eyes, bowed her head, crawled forward and kissed the tree. “Virgen del Palo Arbol yo no quiero beber. Help me. Make God help me stop wanting to drink. Make me hate the warm comfort going into my veins, the mother’s milky comfort, the euphoria, the sinking, the excuse to rage. Make me be free of this curse.” She was sobbing. La Nena reached for her and held her in her arms. The too big adult woman let herself be held by the small child. La Nena kissed her. “Everybody needs una Mama.”