Page 56 of The Moon Sister
‘I know,’ mumbled María, hardly daring to look at the boy in case he told her something else she could not bear to hear.
‘So, Lucía, I will play for you now,sí?’ said Chilly.
‘No,gracias. I will wait for my papá. He is the only one who knows how to play for me,’ Lucía replied autocratically.
‘Chilly will play many times for you in the future,’ stated Micaela. ‘And . . .’
María turned to look at thebrujaand saw her eyes were rolling back in her head as they always did when she listened to the spirits.
‘. . . This young man’ – Micaela tapped Chilly on the shoulder – ‘will one day guide your granddaughter back home.’
‘Mygranddaughter?’ asked María, confused.
‘No – hers.’ Micaela pointed directly at Lucía. ‘Remember what I said, littlebrujo,’ she said to Chilly. ‘She will come. Oh, it is so hot! I must find some water.’
Micaela left, and Lucía looked up at her mother in bewilderment.
‘I am too young to have a grandchild, Mamá, aren’t I?’
‘Sí, Lucía. Of course you are. So, will you have Chilly play for you or not? The crowd is growing and will get restless.’
‘It would be my honour to play for you, señorita.’ Chilly smiled, showing the gap where his milk teeth were missing.
‘I suppose you must,’ Lucía sighed. ‘I will dance abulerías, yes, Mamá?’
‘I think that will be suitable.’
‘You can play one?’ Lucía asked Chilly suspiciously.
‘I can play anything, señorita. Come.’ Chilly grasped Lucía’s hand. ‘We will do this now, as my family too must make the journey home.’
Surprisingly, Lucía followed him without complaint. The green was now packed with onlookers as the two miniature performers took up their places on the platform. Someone had been found to play thecajónand Chilly joined him on a stool as Lucía took centre stage and assumed her opening position.
‘¡Olé!’ she shouted.
‘¡Olé!’ the crowd replied.
Chilly began to play, his eyes never leaving Lucía as he took his lead from her. The pounding of her tiny feet began, and María watched, mesmerised. Whether it was the almost tender accompaniment of the boy, who seemed to pre-empt her every movement with the strings of his guitar, or the confidence Lucía had gained from the adulation she’d received in the past two days, she thought she had never seen her daughter dance better.
The crowd was electrified and yelled encouragement to the young performers.
‘¡Vamos ya! ¡Olé!’ they cried. Lucía ended her dance with such a thundering final stamp, the wooden platform almost splintered beneath her.
María cheered as Lucía took a bow, sweeping a regal hand towards her guitarist in acknowledgement.
‘Who is that child playing for our daughter?’ said a voice from behind her.
‘It is my second cousin, José. He is talented,sí?’
José ignored her comment. ‘Why is he accompanying Lucía?’
‘Because you weren’t here to do so,’ María stated.
José belched and put a heavy arm on his wife’s shoulder to steady himself. She could see and smell that he’d been drinking. He made to move towards the makeshift stage, but María grabbed him by his waistcoat.
‘No, José! I need to speak to you urgently. Did Eduardo find you?’
‘No, he did not. Let go of me.’
