2020

"Life isn't always cupcakes and rainbows, 'cause it isn't. Bad things happen, and there's nothing you can do about it."

    I watched Branch from the 2016 movie Trolls recite that line and barely thought anything about it. My stuffed duckie and I sat together crisscross applesauce, waiting for Papa to get home from work, and Mama to finish making dinner. My three older brothers were outside roughhousing, or whatever stupid, teenage boys do. I was only nine years old back then, so young and naïve. Though we weren’t the most prosperous family here in LA, we made it work and were happy.

    “Dolores!” Mama yelled from the kitchen. “Turn off that tv and get your brothers! Tell them it’s time to eat!”

    I did what I was told, got good grades, and was myself; everything was great. As far as I knew, I had the perfect life any kid could ask for. But.

    That was four years ago.

Ever heard of the coronavirus? Yeah, that. I remember when the quarantine was officially announced. It was strange being sent home early, like someone had flipped the off switch on the entire world.

    For some time, it was sort of nice to be off from school. But with Papa being an EMT, he could not be around us, at all. He literally set up his “space” in a shed in the backyard, just so that the rest of us wouldn’t have a chance at getting sick with this deadly virus.

    After two and a half months, I was bored. I had done everything there was to do inside the house, so I decided to visit Papa, from a distance at least.

    “Papa?” I called as I knocked on the shed door. “It’s me, Dolores. Your favorite hija.” I expected for him to back jokingly, “Also my only daughter.” But there was no answer. Weird. I knocked again, louder this time. Maybe he was taking a nap? Soon, knocking turned to pounding. “Papa? Papa!”

    I tried opening the door, but it was locked. Something wasn’t right. Kicking as hard as I could, I was screaming for Mama to rush over here. She was there in literally five seconds and used all her strength to kick open the door on her first try. Mama tore the blanket off his face, and it appeared it wasn’t breathing.

    “Mama,” I whispered, my eyes tearing up.

    “He’s not gone yet, unnnhhh…” she replied, picking him up like a baby. “Get the car started. I’m taking him to the ER.”

 I ran. My brothers tried to stop my craziness, but when they saw Mama, they instantly met my energy. Luis, the oldest, took Papa from her hands, as I threw Pedro, the middle of the brother trio, the keys as he ran outside. I grabbed her purse, phone, wallet, shoes, pretty much everything she needed. In the next two minutes, she was already on the highway with Papa.

    Three months had passed since the “incident.” As it turned out, Papa had caught the virus and had now been currently dealing with it for that past twelve weeks. I did all I could to help, but only Mama was allowed near him. But ironically, Pedro somehow came down with it two weeks later. Both were isolated in their rooms, and Luis, Juan, and I were left being stuck inside the house. It was like a cycle. Wake up. Eat. Online school. Chores. Eat. Watch the news. Sleep. Repeat.

    That was, until we were awaken to a shrill screaming. Juan fell off the couch as Luis ran upstairs. I was frozen in my seat. I’ve never heard anything like it before.

    “What are you doing? Mama seems like she’d hurt!” Juan said as he stood up to hasten to the second floor. I honestly could not move. I was too scared of what I would find. Juan rolled his eyes and left while I stayed curled up in my blanket on the couch. I had given away my stuffed duckie two years ago, but I really wished I had it now.

    I randomly thought about the line that Branch had said all those years ago, when I didn’t have a care in the world. I would give anything to go back in time, where things were easier. Then I heard a sound that was worse than screaming. I heard Mama crying, and my two brothers holding their tears back, and I knew.

    Papa had taken his last breath.

When summer came around, things only got worse. Mama was having trouble finding a job, Luis had to quit his college plans, and Pedro gradually got worse. Juan was forced to get a job at the local McDonalds, and I was stuck at home, trying to figure out the worst algebra problems in the world.

    Papa would have helped me out if he were here. I missed him so, so much. But my sibling and I knew and tried our best to be as strong as we could for Mama. She was under a lot of stress now. Then the media got worse some guy who unrightfully died, it started some sort of riot, and Juan got involved in some of that. But after online school one day, I went to Juan’s room to check up on him. Sometimes older brothers still need comfort from their younger siblings.

    “Juan? I made PB&J sandwiches, want one?” I creaked open the door, only to find a letter from the McDonalds he worked at. I placed the plates on his desk and opened the enveloped.

    “Dear Mr. Martinez… your absence… fired?!”

He had gotten fired? Apparently, he had not been showing up to work, but doing what? My eyes were drawn to a poster on the wall. A march in downtown LA, happening… today. That’s where he was. I needed to get to him before he did something very stupid. But both Mama and Luis were at work, and Pedro was taking a nap. It was up to me to find him.

    I put the stupid, stuffy face mask on while I hopped on my bike. I had just texted Luis of what was happening; Mama didn’t need anything more to worry about.

    Pedaling and speeding past cars. That’s what I did for the past twenty minutes. That was, until I saw a huge line of people chanting and shouting words of all kinds. I scanned the crowd for Juan and a screaming his name, but my voice was drowned in the mass of people. And there might have been hundreds of Juans who were Hispanic out in that crowd. It was no use. I tried calling his phone, but then I remembered that he had left it at home. Just my luck.

    “Don’t! Please!” a voice cried from a nearby alley. From all the movies I’ve watched, I knew that a dark alley in an overpopulated city is a danger zone, but.

    There was something different about this voice. It sounded somehow familiar. I walked my bicycle to the alley and saw…

    “Juan!” I shouted. Our eyes met, and I instantly felt his fear, especially when I saw the mugger standing in front of him, with a gun. “Juan, ¿en que diablos de metiste?” I basically asked him, “What the heck did you get yourself into?”

    Juan frantically looked back and forth between me and the mugger.

“You have one last shot. Give it to me.” He said with a gruff voice. My brother only shook his head. “I-” BANG!!!

    I watched my own brother crumple to the ground. My heart sank to my knees. Tears clouded my vision. Even though the thick face mask hindered my breathing, it seemed almost impossible to catch my breath. How could he be so dumb? Did he know what he was doing? Of course he didn’t. But Papa had died, now Juan?

    “Hey,” a mean old voice called. I looked up with my tearstained face to find the mugger had his pistol pointed at my head. “I’m not done with you yet.”

    Was this the end? I was only thirteen, my life had barely started. Well, at least I would see Papa and Juan, but what about Mama, Luis, and Pedro? They needed me.

    “Please…” I begged him. Then, someone punched him, and he fell to the ground. “Luis?” I said between breaths.

    “Dolores! What are you doing out here? I got your text and…” His voice trailed off as he saw Juan on the ground. He turned back to me with glassy eyes. We both knew that we would have to tell Mama in some way.

    “On the first day of Christmas, my true love gave to me…” The Christmas song snapped me out of my trance. I just realized that it was Christmas morning. For the past six months, things were a blur, especially after Pedro passed away from the sickness. Mama had also fallen ill in July due to everything that had happened, and the doctors said she wasn’t going to make it. She was in her last days now.   Luis had become the one providing for everyone, and I was in the worst mental state. I didn’t know how much more of this coronavirus I could take. More places opened now, but I barely got out of bed only for school and food.

    “Dolores!” I heard Luis shouting from downstairs. I knew what had happened, but I had already experienced so much grief, I didn’t want to go downstairs.

    “Dolores!”

I just pulled the blanket over my head. I didn’t need any of this.

    “Dolores!”

We both knew that Mama was gone. Why was he so eager to see me? Gosh, brothers were so annoying…

    “¡Dolores Maria Martinez, llega aqui ahora mismo!”

I stomped out of bed and slammed open my door. “¿Que quieres?”

    “Just get down here!” his voice cracked. I took a deep breath, preparing the sight of my now late mother. I was so tired of this year; I just wanted it to be over already. I just wanted to be a kid again, where my life was perfect. When our family was great. Where everything was fine.

    When I reached the middle of the stairs, my eyes were burning with tears, but not for what I was expecting.

    “Dolores,” a weak voice said. It wasn’t my brother who had just said my name. Someone who I thought I would never see again. “Mama!” I cried as I ran into her arms. She was standing! She did look tired, but I knew she was okay.

    “A Christmas miracle, am I right?” Luis remark as he held back his tears, but one managed to slip down. I didn’t want to let go of Mama; I didn’t think I ever would. I hadn’t hugged anyone in months, everything was so messed up. Even though we had lost half of our family in the past year, at least we had each other right now.