“No!” The woman wailed. “No más chicas fingiendo hablar conmigo. Dónde está mi nieta. Dime!”
Her granddaughter. She wanted to know where her granddaughter was, because she had gone to sleep knowing and woken uphere, without her.
God.
Christine looked at me with a pleading expression and I nodded. Who I was nodding to, I didn’t know. Shuffling around the bed I moved in front of the woman, putting myself in her line of sight. Then with a voice not nearly as calm or sweet as Christine’s, I said, “Senora. Escúchame, por favor.”
“No!”
“Si,” I insisted. Moving closer, I bent to take a knee before her. “Cómo te llamas?”
“Manuela,” she answered.
Sticking my hand out, I said, “Soy Ce—Selena. Mucho Gusto.”
“Dónde está mi nieta, Selena?” she asked again.
I didn’t answer. I didn’tknowthe answer. Instead, I began reciting the things Christine told me to say.
“My name is Selena, this is Christine. We’re here to help you in any way that we can. Your granddaughter was taken to the hospital last night. She has not been released to come get you. You’re at the Seaside women’s shelter near Claireview. Do you know where you are? Do you know the date? Do you understand what we’re telling you?”
Manuela took the news one nod at a time and for a second I thought,‘that was easy, I could do this in my sleep’, but then Christine kept going. Rambling off quiet sentences for me to repeat in Spanish.
“Last night, at midnight, your granddaughter’s fiancé pushed her down the stairs. You were asleep in your room when it happened. Charges can’t be pressed until she is conscious again. You were removed from the scene in case of any further retaliation. Do you have anyone you can call?”
I faltered, my eyes flickering to Christine’s for just a second before I swallowed and repeated it all back to the woman. I had to restart three times. Twice because of her emotions and once because of my own. But we got through it and by the end I was clutching onto her hands, near begging her to tell me who to call for her. “A quién podemos llamar?”
She was silently crying, her brown skin looking more faded and sunken from even the start of our conversation. Holy shit, Christine hadn’t prepared me for this. I felt a tremor rack through me ending at our clasped hands. My next words shaking as I repeated, “Por favor? Con quién puedes hablar?”
She pushed out a ragged sigh, her voice trembling as she said, “Mi hermana.”
Thank God. I was beginning to have this sinking feeling she was going to say the only person she had was her granddaughter. And what would happen to her if…if her granddaughter didn’t make it?
I had to put it out of my mind in order to stay strong enough to thank Manuela for speaking to me. Strong enough to take her phone and call her sister and fill her in on the situation. Strong enough to sit with Manuela while she waited for her family to arrive. It was important not to let my own feelings of her situation impede on whatshewas actually going through. Because that’s just it. I could feel empathy and I could feel pain for what she was experiencing, but I couldn’t fully relate. All I could do was stay in my own lane and help her as much as I could.
We sent Manuela off with her family just as Nina was coming in to start her shift. I was glad to see her go. Not because she was difficult (which she was). She did in fact have diabetes and was on the verge of passing out without her pills or at the very least some food. But the only thing she agreed to eat were the sugar free Jell-O cups that were inlowreserve in the kitchen.
After it was settled that her sister would be coming to retrieve her, she didn’t want to do anything other than play some boring board game, and she didn’t want to play it with anyone but me. Whenever she was left alone, she would just cry. Cry and cry and cry, asking where her “Princesa”was and how could this happen to them and a ton of other heartbreaking questions that had me thinking one of those heartbreaking pleas would be the one to send me over the edge.
Still, I was glad to see her go. Because so many women came to shelter here, but the most heartbreaking was when they stayed. Not because they wanted to but because they had to. Because on the other end of that question for them,“who can I call for you”, for a lot of these women the answer was“no one”.
Cool moisture hit my forehead, bringing instant relief to the flushed area. I groaned and closed my eyes as I leaned into it.
“Take five, babe,” Christine said as she held a cold water bottle to my face. “We need to start setting up for the night soon, and you’re not getting away with cutting out early
“But I’ve been here all day,” I pouted.
We all knew I didn’t mean it. Yes, I was tired, but I had been coming to help on Thursdays for years for a reason. Thursdays were event nights and event nights were my absolute favorite. I loved seeing the women turn into more than just their circumstances on nights like tonight. I loved watching them get to cook, or crochet, or paint, or even just hang out like things were normal for one night a week. It opened up hope. It showed everyone that there was more around the corner than just this shitty storm they were going through and there’s more to look forward to than the rain. Event night is what hooked me to this place. That, and Christine’s loudmouth. If it was happening, I would be here.
“You did a great job with her,” Nina said, coming up behind Christine. “You have a talent for making people calm.”
I spit out my water. “Don’t make me laugh when I’m drinking.”
She gave me a sly look. “I wasn’t being funny, Selena. You did exactly what I do here every day, and you did itwell. You should be proud. Not everyone has the nerve to be both patient and kind when dealing with tough situations like these.”
“Kind?” I asked like the word was foreign to me. Not that I thought I wasn’t capable of it or anything just—no one had ever called me that before.
“Yes,kind,”she said. “You should know you don’t fool us with your Chihuahua act. You’ve got a lot of bark, but—”
