”
Daniel looked at his drenched parents, saw their desperate faces, and for a moment Carmen thought she would see compassion in her eldest son’s eyes, but what she saw was something much worse. Calculation. A fire, Daniel said slowly. How convenient, convenient, Carmen repeated, confused. What do you mean? I mean it’s very convenient that there’s a fire right after they told us they weren’t going to sell the house, Daniel replied coldly. Now they’re going to need money for repairs, aren’t they?
“Money they don’t have, so they’re going to have to sell anyway.” Carmen couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “Daniel, this was an accident, a short circuit. The firefighters confirmed it. It has nothing to do with them not being able to stay here,” Daniel interrupted. “Lorena wouldn’t allow it. She has very high standards for her home, and well, you understand, but we’re your parents,” Fernando said, his voice breaking. “Son, please, we’re soaked just for one night. I’m sick.”
Your mother is trembling. Please. Daniel glanced over his shoulder as if checking that Lorena wasn’t listening. Then he turned to his parents and, in a completely emotionless voice, said, “I’m sorry, but no. If you want help, sell the house. That’s the only way we can help you.” And he closed the door. Carmen and Fernando stood there in the pouring rain, staring at the closed door. The taxi that had brought them had already left.
They had no money for another. They had nowhere else to go. “Let’s try Monica,” Fernando said, though his voice had lost all hope. They walked for 40 minutes in the rain until they reached Monica’s house. Every step was agony. Fernando’s legs barely responded, weakened by the stroke and now by exhaustion and the cold. Carmen coughed constantly. The smoke from the fire had irritated her lungs. When they arrived at Monica’s house, a luxurious apartment building with security at the entrance, they couldn’t even get inside.
The security guard stopped them. “Where are you going?” he asked suspiciously, eyeing their soaked and disheveled appearance. “We’ve come to see our daughter, Monica Ruiz,” Carmen explained. “She lives in the penthouse.” The guard made a call. After a minute, he hung up and shook his head. “Dr. Ruiz says she isn’t expecting visitors and that they can’t come up.” “Please,” Carmen pleaded, “tell her it’s an emergency, that there was a fire in our house, that she should at least let us speak with her.”
The guard made another call. This time the conversation was longer. Finally, he hung up with an uncomfortable expression. The doctor said that if it really was an emergency, they should go to a shelter, that she couldn’t help them because she had early surgeries tomorrow and needed to rest. Carmen felt as if someone had ripped her heart out of her chest. Monica, her daughter, the little girl she had breastfed, whom she had cared for during her childhood asthma attacks, whom she had supported through her teenage pregnancy, was rejecting her and sending her to a shelter.
There was no response. Only the sound of the rain and the security guard looking at them with a mixture of pity and discomfort. Next stop, Sebastián’s house. But Sebastián didn’t even open the door. He yelled from inside for them to leave, to leave him alone, that he had already made it clear he didn’t want to get involved in their dramas. Finally, they arrived at Gabriela’s house, his youngest daughter, his little girl. By the time they got there, Carmen and Fernando could barely walk.
They were completely soaked, shivering uncontrollably, coughing nonstop. Fernando had a fever. Carmen could feel the heat radiating from his skin. Gabriela opened the door, but didn’t let her parents in. She stood in the doorway, blocking the entrance with her body. “Mom, Dad,” she said, her voice strained. “Eduardo says you can’t stay here. He says if I let you in, he’ll leave, and I can’t risk my marriage over this.” “Over this,” Carmen repeated, unable to believe what she was hearing.
Gabriela, we’re your parents. There was a fire. We have nowhere to go. And you call this what it is? I’m sorry, Gabriela said, but her eyes were dry. There were no tears, no real regret, but they made their decision when they refused to sell the house. Now they have to live with the consequences. The consequences of wanting to stay in our own home, Fernando said in a voice so weak it was barely a whisper. You have to leave, Gabriela said, glancing nervously inside the house.
Eduardo is going to wake up, and if he sees you here, there’s going to be trouble. And she closed the door. Carmen and Fernando stood there in the rain that continued to fall relentlessly. It was 8:00 a.m. They had spent three hours walking from house to house, being turned away by each of their four children. “We have no one,” Carmen whispered. Her voice completely broken. “My God, Fernando, we have no one in the whole world.” Fernando hugged Carmen, both of them trembling violently in the rain.
“I’m sorry,” Fernando whispered, beginning to cry. “I’m so sorry, my love. I failed you. I promised I would always protect you, that I would always take care of you. And now look, we’re out here in the street, soaked, sick, with no one to help us. I failed you.” “You didn’t fail me,” Carmen sobbed. “We didn’t fail, they did. Our children failed us. They didn’t know how long they stood there in the rain, hugging each other, crying. It could have been minutes, or it could have been hours.” Everything went blurry. Carmen felt like she was floating, her consciousness drifting in and out.
I knew she was in shock, probably hypothermia too. Finally, Fernando took Carmen’s hand. “We have to move,” he said. “If we stay here, we’ll die.” They wandered aimlessly through the city streets. The rain had let up a little, but it was still falling steadily. People drove past them in comfortably dry cars, without even a second glance. Two soaked old people with two old suitcases wandering aimlessly in the rain. No one stopped. No one asked if they needed help.
Carmen thought about all the times she had helped others. All the times she had sewn clothes for free for families who couldn’t pay, all the times she had given food to neighbors in need, all the times she had babysat for other people’s children without charging a penny. And now, when she needed help, there was no one there. Eventually, they found shelter under the awning of a closed store. They sat on the cold ground, huddled together, trying to keep warm.
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