Chapter 14

Still Carlita's turn:

I waited at home on Friday. Dave says he is going to get away from his work at lunch and we are taking a short drive back into Texas. I have my passport and my birth certificate and he has his driver's license and birth certificate in case it is needed.

At the middle of the morning, I call Brother Bob.

"My Carlita," he says. He sounds happy to hear from me. "How are you doing?"

"Brother Bob, my life is very good. I have papers. I am in America. The papers say I am eighteen, so I can do many things on my own in America."

"I am glad. Your friend Dave saw to it. It was a lot of money."

"I know. I did not have that much money. I could not do that. That is why I crossed the border with the others."

"You are fortunate, Carlita. Many who cross, they end up in government shelters and programs."

"Many who started did not get here, Brother Dave. I traveled as a young boy. Young girls ... it was bad. When I got to Texas, I got away from the others. I think it was suspected that I might be a girl. I had to leave."

"And you met Dave."

"I hid in his truck. When I let him find me, he did not question. He started taking care of me. Each step of the way, he asked me what I wished to do. He was very proper. Now I am fed and clothed and have a beautiful house, and Brother Bob?"

"Yes, Carlita?"

"I want to marry David Johnson."

I heard him breathe hard. "Carlita, you do not have to get married, do you? You are not ... He did not..."

"No, Brother Bob. I am not pregnant. Dave is very proper. We are going to get a Texas license to be married. I would like for you to do our marriage."

"Carlita, you are fourteen..."

"Brother Bob," I said. "My papers say I am eighteen. You taught me well. I know right and wrong. I know about things that are holy and sacred and I know that marriage is one of those. I have talked with Dave about these things. We wish for you to marry us."

"Carlita, you do not need to be some man's toy. If you come here, I will see that you have a place to stay and perhaps a job."

"Brother Bob, I love you. You have been like my father for many years. You have made Carlita who she is. But I love Dave. Love him. I have a home and I have his family and I will go to school here and then if I am smart enough I will go to college and in all of it I will be a good person as you taught me."

"You are serious."

"I am serious. I have counted the costs, as you taught me."

"Carlita, you never were the same as the others. I know what your age was. You did not act that age. You acted timeless." He sighed. "Have your Dave call me, but if YOU wish, I will marry the two of you."

"Thank you, Brother Bob," I said. "I will continue to pray for you every night."

"I need your prayers, Carlita. And I will pray for you and your Dave."

"Thank you, Brother Bob," I said. "We will call you this evening."

"I look forward to it, Carlita. Adios!"

I leaned back in Dave's chair and breathed the good smells from it. Closed my eyes. Carlita is to be married. IS married.

I dress well, better than ever in my life. My jeans are new. I have a nice shirt on. New shoes. When Dave comes into the house to take me away, I ask him if I am okay in my dress.

"You're charming, Lita. Absolutely charming."

The trip is not a whole hour. We go into the big government building and ask for the marriage license. The older lady who does these things looks at me strangely, but I am not to be frightened. I am with Dave and even though I am a citizen of Guatemala, it is allowed for me to be married in America.

Dave pays the money and accepts the license.

"Congratulations, Mister Johnson. Senorita Luna," she says.

"Thank you, Mrs. Holden," I say.

Dave thanks her also, and we leave.

"Dave, why do you think she looked at me like that?"

"It could be because you are young looking. It also could be because she knows that if you marry an American, you get to stay in America when your visa expires. There are some marriages in name only, just for that purpose."

"I am not doing that, Dave," I said. "I was a young girl. I have given myself to you and am now a woman and I will be your wife. And Brother Bob says that he will marry us next Saturday." I giggled. "Let's go home and be together."

"Yes," Dave laughed. "We'll go home and do what everybody thinks we've been doing all along."

I smiled. "I like it, too, Dave. I was afraid that I would not be good for you."

"You are very good for me, for so many reasons, Carlita. That is why I am marrying you. You are easy to love."

I reached over and took his hand. It is what I wished to do as he drives. I really wish to do more, but I cannot fit in his lap while he drives. Part of my mind is jumping like a little girl, singing 'I'm getting married', and another part is calm, saying 'Carlita, you are a wife now.'

"You look happy, Carlita," Dave said.

"I am happy. I am getting what I dream, Dave. Pat says that next week I will be tested so I can see where I am in American education and I can take summer classes so I may catch up with others. Since I am eighteen, I can get ... equivalency?"

"GED?" Dave asked.

"Yes. If I get it then I can take tests for college, you said."

"I think that's the way it works."

"Many things to understand. My poor Tia Estella would be happy to know I am trying to be educated."

"Lita, you already are educated. Like when you came to America, you do not have papers. There is the fact – you are educated. There is the paper..."

I laughed. "I understand. There is the fact – I love my Dave and we are married. We need the paper."

He glanced away from the road and smiled at me. "There are a million reasons I love you, Carlita."

"Only ONE million?" I giggled.

"One million and one," he laughed.

"Tonight. Sandwiches. We do not leave the house," I said. "Tomorrow, we do our boat."

"Our boat?"

"Yes," I smiled. "Doesn't it become our boat when we are married?"

"It became our boat, Carlita."

I relaxed in my seat. I turned sideways a little so I could see Dave. Adoration is better when you can see what you adore.

He freed up his right hand and reached over towards me. I took his hand, squeezed it, and put it to my lips.

Dave's turn:

With each step I take, I move closer to believing my amazing good fortune. I'm driving back home from just across the border in Texas. I presented myself and my officially eighteen year old Carlita and a bit of money and now we are in possession of a marriage license.

Next week we're driving to a small town outside Austin and we will stand before Brother Bob and become married in the eyes of the State of Texas.

Me. David Johnson. The perennial failure at intersex relationships. The nice guy who had girl friends so many times, but so few girlfriends.

And my hand is being held and kissed by an impossibility. In the Hitchhiker's Guide books, they have the 'infinite improbability drive' that transports across the galaxy based on improbability interfacing with location. Apparently one of those locations is in the mesquite scrublands of South Texas because the likelihood of parking one's pickup truck for a while to look at things, then getting back in and driving off only to find that one has acquired Carlita is the probability of two to the power of 276,709 to one against.

Yet there she sits. My Carlita. I've never been happier.

She releases my hand, runs her hands over her short hair. I know the length bothers her. Still, Pat managed to get her into a hair salon and those people worked out a cut that wasn't too out of place on that young face. I've seen girls with shorter, less flattering cuts.

Since she's touching it, I do, too.

"It will grow," she says.

"I know it will, but you are still beautiful."

"I had pretty hair, Dave."

"I believe you," I said. "But I have never known Carlita with long hair. Carlita with short hair is still pretty."

She is. I get lost in her eyes. She has a tiny bit of an overbite. When her face is soft and pensive, I melt.

I gently touch her cheek.

Carlita's turn:

Dave touches me. I know what it is to be adored. I want to make him feel that as well.

"How does this radio work, Dave?" I ask.

"You see the button with the on-off symbol."

"Yes," I say. "You told me that it was becoming universal. I see it."

"Push it. That turns it on. The volume knob is for how loud."

I push the button. It is no music. Noise. Static, I think is the word.

"Now press those arrow keys. They will find the radio stations."

I push the button. There is music, but not good music. I push again. NOT music. And again. And then I think of something. "These buttons. One through nine and zero?"

"Memories. Favorite stations."

He is my Dave. I need to know if he has favorite music. I push the button that says 'one'. Not music. Talk. 'Two'. There is music, but static, too.

"We're out of range of that one. The first one, it's not the time for what I listen to."

I have learned that pushing buttons cannot break these things, ever since I thought I broke the TV that first night in the hotel room, so I push more buttons as he drives. There is one that says 'CD'. I know what a CD is. I push the button.

Music. Not modern music. Beautiful music. Complex. I have only heard a little of this kind of music.

"This is your CD?"

"Of course. This is my car."

"You bought this CD?"

"Yes. Do you not like this music?"

"I have only heard a little. Can we listen? Who is this?"

"The composer is Vivaldi. The orchestra is the Academy of St Martin in the Fields. It is called Primavera – Spring."

I leaned my head back and closed my eyes. The music did for my soul as Dave does for my soul. I am being fed. Lifted.

"Are you okay?" Dave asked. He looked over at me. "Carlita, you have tears in your eyes."

"Dave," I said, "What you have done for my body for the first time, this has done for my ears. I never ... Beautiful ... How? I feel like I am three years old and I do not have the words to announce my feelings." I actually shook – quivered. "I have discovered ... Where has this magic been all my life?"