1

Sonríe Isabelle Molander “Los gringos allí quieren su cuenta” “Debo dársela? No van a dar una gratificación a la chica marron.” “Nah, parecen como las personas que les gusta eso.” Marcel winked and swung into the kitchen as he opened the door with his foot, his hands full of dishes. Clara groaned and headed towards the table. “Thank you!” She placed the check on the table and the white couple pulled a fancy looking wallet out of a cross body bag, as they did so a map of the city fell out. “Oh aqui esta!” Clara said as she reached down to grab it and return it to them. The man ripped the word Chicago in half as he snatched the map out of her hand. He failed to meet Clara’s gaze as he abruptly threw a twenty on the table, muttered something about speaking english, and ushered his wife out of the booth. $19.84 was their total- a very generous sixteen cent tip. Clara sighed, she had gotten worse, and most of the time they came hand delivered into her back pocket with a grab along with it. She walked quickly towards the kitchen. “Senorita! Mas cafe!” “Dos aguas!” “Donde estan mis huevos?” Early Friday mornings were always the busiest. The neighborhood was gearing up for their long weekends of parking Lexuses on the north side, overtime demo shifts, or cleaning motel rooms that had seen better days. The weekends were not their own.

2

Marcel was leaning against the counter an unlit cigarette in his hand, his phone in the other. He was chatting with Alex as he scrambled what had to be at least fifteen eggs at once. The small kitchen was tight enough with Alex at the grill, but with all three of them it was almost impossible to get around. “Necesito los huevos para... mesa dies.” She put the pot of coffee down and reached for two cups from the pile that Marcel was standing next to. He beat her to it, and held both of the cups in one of his hands just out of her reach. He ran his other hand through his dark hair, and looked down at Clara. “Dámelos. Sé que estás hipnotizado con el reflexión de tu cara bonita, pero los necesito para la mesa que deberías atender.” “Aw piensas que soy atractivo?” Marcel raised an eyebrow, and Clara smirked at his smug face. He twirled the cigarette between two fingers. “Yo? No. Yo no dije eso”, Clara snatched the glasses from his hands, “pero se que Alex diria eso.” Alex turned around from the grill and blew Marcel a kiss who laughed and started to head out the side door. Before Marcel left he turned to Clara who was filling the glasses with water. He looked like he was going to say something, but instead he ducked out of the kitchen. “Huevos!” “Gracias, Alex.” Clara grabbed the plates and rushed out of the kitchen, and back into the dining room.

3

Clara was wiping down a table as the street lights reflected off the store’s front window. Jamir wasn't here today, he was probably too busy keeping the corner seat warm at the Watering Hole, so Clara closed out the register and locked up. She turned around from the diner's front door, and had barely taken the key out of the lock, when she bumped into a large man towering over her. His long hair reached just to the top of her face. He placed an arm on either side of Clara trapping her by the door. “Desaparece, Raul! He dicho que nunca quiero verte.” “Escúchame por favor, mi amor. Lo siento mucho para mis acciones, sabes que te quiero.” “No, no puedo perdonarte y no quiero! Necesitamos siga asaltante con nuestras vidas, y no podemos cuando estás a mi trabajo cada noche.” She ducked under his arm and started walking in the direction of her apartment. To her dismay, he followed her. “Estabamos bueno juntos,” Clara continued to walk forward, “Sabes lo! Clara! Estas escuchando? Escuchame!” He grabbed her by the shoulder and spun her around. “Estoy escuchando! Y solamente oigo lo que tú digas cada vez que estas jodido! Porfavor... dejame en paz” She could smell the alcohol on his breath, but under it there was a hint of cologne- the same cologne her dad used to wear. A tear streamed down her cheek, but she wiped it away, lest he think it was for him. He still griped her arm in his hand, and she finally turned to meet his gaze. He moved closer to her. “Vale, Raul. Vale.” He kissed her and she reveled in the smell of his cologne, and the stale cigarettes reminded her of home.

4

Aquí no me pongo reacio Quiero agarrarte por tu pelo lacio She groaned and turned her alarm off. Raul was no longer beside her in bed, and she slipped on one of her dad's old tshirts, and sat up. Raul wasn’t in the main room of her apartment either. She immediately went to her work apron where she kept all the money she made from tips. It was empty. “Hijo de puta!” She threw her apron against the wall. She slumped down and put her face in her hands, willing herself not to cry. From her view on the floor she could see the framed picture of her dad and her that she had hid there out of view. It was taken at least ten years ago, she was around ten. She was on her dad’s shoulders, and he was smiling his smile; it was the kind that made tourists trust him as a ‘tour guide’ and bartenders give him a drink on the house. Her face was round and chubby. Her curly hair frizzed out around her and reached her shoulders. They were outside their old house which was painted a bright orange, she missed the bright colors of Guatemala. Everything in the city was so gray. She remembered how she had been crying early because the kids at school had been calling her a gringo because of her mom. When she told her dad he paused, and then laughed. “Si eres un gringo tu comida favorito no sea jocon. Gringos no pueden comer comida picante. Eres guatemalteco, y eres mi hija.” He made her favorite dinner that night, Jocon, and after that he took her to get flan, which was when their neighbor snapped that picture on his polaroid.

5

“Lo siento, padre, lo siento”. She had two shifts and a doubles worth of tips in her apron. Rent was due tomorrow. She took her phone out and dialed Raul’s number. Not to her surprise he didn’t pick up. She clicked her phone off and picked herself up. She hesitated before she called the next number. “Hola, mama.” “Clara? Uhh, como estas? Estaba preocupada!” There was a pause. Clara heard her yelling in english to someone, but she didn’t fully understand what she was saying, “De todos modos, que quieres?” “Uhh, pues, quiero saber si podrias darme un poco dinero para arriendo. Sé que es una sorpresa, pero no preguntaría si no lo necesito.” “Clara, lo siento mucho pero los niños están aquí, y esto no es un tiempo bueno.” There was more yelling in english that Clara did not understand, but she heard the names of her two half siblings. “Necesito salir.” Clara heard a click. There was nothing left to do but head to work.

“Jamir, necesito hablar contigo.” Jamir turned towards Clara and sighed. “Vale, pero no tengo mucho tiempo. Lo hace rapido porfavor.” “Puedo trabajar un doble hoy y mañana?” “Lo siento, Clara, pero el horario ya está terminado. No puedo cambiarlo.” “Por favor, Jamir, necesito dinero para arriendo.”

6

“No puedo. Quizás necesito saber como ahorrar.” He turned and walked away from her. “Senorita! Necesito mas cafe!” “Por supuesto! Un minuto, señor.” Clara walked back into the kitchen. To her surprise it was just Marcel standing there with his arms crossed. “Lo siento, Marcel, pero no quiero ningunos chistes hoy.” “Quieres trabajar dobles?” Marcel asked as he raised an eyebrow, and took a step towards Clara. “Quieres no escuchar a mis conversaciones?” “Oh no fue una conversación, Jamir necesitaría escucharte por eso.” Clara groaned, but couldn’t help her smile. Marcel smiled back at her, then got unusually serious. “Puedo darte el dinero.” “Que? No! No puedo aceptarlo. Por que?” “Porque eres la mejor trabajadora y una buena persona también. Recibes demasiado mierda aquí.” “No puedo.” “Clara, por favor, quiero darselo.” “No, Marcel.” “Lo vio anoche.” Clara’s face fell. Marcel had left a few minutes before her last night. “No voy a preguntarle si él es el razon por esto, y quizás no es apropiado para decir, pero eres demasiado bueno para él.”

7

“Estás correcta, no es apropiado.” Alex walked into the kitchen, they both fell silent, so Clara grabbed a pot of coffee and walked out into the dining room.

Later that night Clara was placing a check on a table when she heard the bell ring on the door and turned to see her mother stumbling in. “Clara! Clara! Oh here you are. My beautiful Clara! My little girl!” “Mama!?” Customers turned towards the door. “Oh you are so beautiful! You have your father's eyes. He was a good man, your father. Oh honey! You know I regret leaving you right? I would think about you every night. My sweet little girl. I just couldn’t stay there in that terrible place, and what would my parents say if I came back from my mission trip with, well, you! Oh Clara, please forgive me. Please.” Clara stared at her mother who grabbed onto the top of the booth for support as she stumbled forward. Clara did not understand what she was saying. Her shock quickly wore off, and she ushered her mother to the back room as she continued to speak in english. “Clara!” Jamir stormed into the back, “Queiro la mujer loca afuera de mi tienda! Entiendes?” “Si Jamir, solamente necesito un momento.” She turned towards her mother who was now sitting on the floor. “Madre, español por favor, tambien necesitas ir a su casa para descansar y podemos hablar en la mañana, vale?”

8

“Pero Clara, mi niña, tengo el dinero.” She took a wad of crumpled twenties out of her purse and stuck them out in the general direction of Clara who cautiously took them from her hand. It was only half the amount. “Lo siento gasté un poco para bebidas.” She hiccuped then completely slumped over. Clara bent down and shook her, but she was out. Marcel walked in. “Vas a decirme como mi familia es un desastre y que yo destruyo mi vida porque mi novio es un ladrón? Porque ya sé.” “Nah. Voy a decirle que mesa siete quiere más pan.” Clara looked up at Marcel for a moment, and then began to laugh and he quickly joined her. When they stopped she looked down at her mother on the floor and back to Marcel. “Que voy a hacer.” “Pues, primero vas a tomar mi dinero. Luego, voy a traer tu madre a su casa. Ella vive cerca de aquí?” “En el norte de la ciudad.” “Verdad? Pues, las apariencias enganan.” Clara chuckled, “Eres un amigo bueno, sabes eso?” Marcel smiled, and it reminded Clara of her dad’s smile.