Chapter 44
The Naked Truth
Railroad crossing.
Getting off my bike still wasn’t automatic.
I had to think about it every time.
It was because of the warning from a total stranger.
Every time I come to this crossing, I remember his warning.
I seem to remember all the warnings now.
Keep off the grass.
Panama will swallow you whole.
Don’t go into the bamboo.
Puerto Rico isn’t safe for a woman.
Costa Rica is off limits.
Lock everything up.
Tell people who you are.
Don’t tell people any more than you have to.
Pay attention to the icky feelings.
Use the coin if you need my ear.
Warnings are my life.
I walked across the gravel area and got back on my bike.
It is a beautiful day to ride.
It is also my last day of this school year.
Tomorrow, I will be taking off from work for the funeral.
After that…
A full-face spray of what looked like water and smelled like month-old eggs and bleach.
“Well, for all that’s holy!”
At least my clothes would dry fast.
There were firemen all around me.
That wasn’t the surprise.
The bus stop came right after the railroad crossing, then the fire station.
I came to a complete stop.
I put one foot on the ground and steadied myself.
I tried to make sense of what was happening in front of me.
Firemen were everywhere.
Wearing white hazard suits.
Everyone was upset.
Men were pulling on their white overclothes and pointing to me.
One kept shouting, “No aqua, no ague! Muy mal!”
Not water
Very bad.
One was pointing to the firehose.
One was unbuttoning his shirt and pointing to mine.
I am not taking my clothes off.
I wanted to get back on my bike.
One of the men had it by the handlebars.
Apparently…
I wasn’t going anywhere until I understood.
“No Engles. Espanol?”
“No hablo Espanol.”
That meant I don’t speak Spanish.
“S-O-C-K-S”.
Yes, I spelled the word socks.
I was told early on that in Spanish it sounded like I was saying “It is what it is.”
“Danger.”
I knew that word.
“Yes, much danger!” he shouted.
A man I hadn’t seen yet came out of the firehouse.
He was carrying pants and a shirt.
“Miss—cancer!”
My world stopped.
“This is not water!
You were sprayed with very bad chemicals.
This cleans the black mold.”
“You get cancer.”
Mamma.
She thought it was just a lump.
She thought she had time.
“You must strip your clothes, now.”
“We must burn them!”
Comprehension.
When there’s not a choice.
Done.
I was shaking my head no as I stripped.
I should have had a bigger problem with it.
I should have had the modesty of an Alabama belle.
The firemen went up the road.
They spoke to the men at the bus stop.
Every one of them turned their backs toward the chaos in respect.
God bless their cat-calling hearts.
The birds kept chanting, though.
My clothes went in a bag.
All of them.
I was hosed down.
I was hosed down again.
I was handed a towel.
A fireman’s shirt.
Pants.
“No shoes, thank you, though.”
They hosed down my bike.
They dried it for me.
The men at the bus stop had left.
The birds were still vulgar.
Nature.
It tries to kill you.
Then it hurls Spanish insults at you.
“You bring clothes back tomorrow!
We no give you clothes.”
“Si, manana, gracias.”
“Accident.”
“Si.”
And…
back on the bike.
Straight to Short Straw.
Daniel's Den 