Jen's Journal

I sit by the phone, waiting eagerly for any noise or movement from it. It’s hot, way too hot to be still. I take a few sips of water and wish it could be evening already, my Dad will be here then and it always gets cool at noon. This is probably the way my mom felt before we got here, eager, tired, hot. 

Dad is living in Juarez at the moment. I haven’t seen him since I was twelve. When he called a few days ago saying he could come to meet us here I was jumping for joy. 

My brother startles me just then as he comes in the house and shouts, “He’s here! Dad is here!”

I drop my water and run outside behind him. There, getting out of the cab is a nicely dressed bald man with the biggest smile on his face. That’s him alright. He gets his backpack out and pays the cab driver, then turns around to face us. I hug him first, and he hugs me so tight my feet lift off the floor for a second. Next is my youngest sister, then my brother. He lifts us all up and already I can see tears in the corner of his eye. Always the emotional one, I think to myself. I guess that’s where I get it from too because I start crying then and there. He hugs me once more and I bury my face in the nape of his neck, trying to control my breathing so I don’t start sobbing. 

I tell him to come inside and see my Mom, and meet her boyfriend. That’s probably not the first thing he wants to do but he needs to set his stuff down and they’re all inside. We walk down the street, the only street in the town with a pavement. 

Inside, my Mom is cooking lunch. My Mom sets the mixing spoon aside and wipes her hands on her apron when she sees my Dad walk in. I suddenly remember her boyfriend is off tending to the cows and won’t be home for a while. I smile to myself because for now, it can just be us. My Mom gives my Dad an awkward handshake/hug and she asks him how his trip was. 

“Good. I slept most of the way here and almost missed my stop but I made it thankfully.”

“That’s good, you must be exhausted, are you hungry?” My Mom asks, already getting a bowl out to serve him. 

“Yeah, I hope it’s not a problem.”

“Of course not, I made plenty! Grab a chair, I’ll be right there.”

We all sit at the table when my eldest sister comes in carrying her little girl. My Dad stands up again to greet her. Even though he’s not her Dad she still grew up with him so they’re close enough to exchange a quick hug. He bends down to my niece’s level and asks if it’s okay to pick her up. 

“Go ahead! She just woke up from her nap so she’s pretty happy,” says Llajaira.

Ximena squeals as my Dad lifts her and starts giggling as he throws her up and catches her. He sets her down after a minute and sits down to eat with us. I can’t remember the last time we were all sitting at the same table. Even when we were living together family meals weren’t very common.

My Dad started a job as a chef at a fancy restaurant. My Mom got another boyfriend. My oldest sister, Llajaira, moved in with her boyfriend and had Ximena two years later. My brother, Jesus, just had his first conversation in school about puberty. My youngest sister, Lupita, is trying not to get into fights at school. Nothing new there. As for me, my freshman year of high school is over and I’m not looking forward to the next three years. 

We end up sitting around the table for hours, laughing and talking and having fun. When we’re done, my Mom clears the table and says she needs to go take care of some things. Llajaira goes off with Ximena somewhere. That just leaves me, my Dad, and two younger siblings. 

We all go on a walk around town, as it is my Dad’s first time here and he wants to see where my Mom grew up. The main street is filled with food, souvenirs, and game stands. There’s live music at four in the afternoon and there will continue to be music until four in the morning. There’s a carnival on the main street, rides, fun games to play, and lots of beer. Twelve-year-olds hold beer cans out in the open, which isn’t the best reflection of the town but it’s the reality.  

We go behind all this madness to find quiet places to walk and talk with Dad. We walk along the church, into the ballroom where they hold dances, and behind that to the rodeo place. My Dad stops when he sees the band that’s playing tonight. Their name is Rayo Laser and they just so happen to be from my Dad’s town. He introduces us to them while we stand behind him. They catch up for a bit, saying things like what a small world and how have you been?

My Dad is a very outgoing person, something I didn’t get from him, unfortunately. When he’s done talking to them we continue walking, nowhere in particular this time. We end up by the preschool on the edge of town. 

We head back when the sun starts setting and make it just in time for Llajaira and my Mom to finish getting ready. We wait until it gets dark and then walk over to the dance. We all get in for free because of my Dad’s connection to the band. My Dad heads straight for the bar and my Mom finds us a table. Her boyfriend is here now.

As the place starts filling up with people, my Dad is filling up with beer. I worry a little because knowing his history of drinking he’ll make a fool of himself before the night is over. My Mom notices me looking at my Dad and grabs a hold of my hand, squeezing it as if to say he’ll be fine, he’s a grown man. I look away then, but it doesn’t stop me from worrying.

About an hour later my Dad comes over to our table stumbling a bit, and he holds his hand out for me to dance with him. I want to decline because I’ve never danced with him, and I don’t want our first father-daughter dance to be with him this drunk. However, I also know that he’s extremely persistent and won’t stop until I accept. 

So, I take his hand and he leads me to the middle of the dancefloor. He’s stepping on my feet, stumbling all over the place, and still holding a beer in his hand. Everyone is looking at us and I want to tell him to stop but the music is too loud and I don’t want to hurt his feelings. Just then, the lead singer shouts out to Familia Ramirez. That’s us, and my Dad stops for a second to raise his beer to cheers. When the song is over and my feet have been sufficiently stepped on, I make my way back to the table and my Dad goes to get another beer. 

It seems to be going alright, that is until we hear a shot go off from the bar, followed by another right after. The first thing my Mom does is grab hold of as many of us as she can and runs out of the building. When we’re on the main street she looks around to see if we’re all there. It’s just then I realize my Dad is still there. Panic floods over me, my hands get numb and I hyperventilate. 

When I’m able to talk I practically yell at my Mom that we forgot my Dad in there. She tells me that we’re not going back there if that’s what I was thinking. We don’t know what happened yet, just that two shots went off and people rushed out of there. When my Mom turns around for a second, I get away from her grasp on me and run back to the dance. 

Along the sidewalk, I see a stream of blood and an ambulance parked right out front. My heart is pounding in my ears and I can’t see clearly because of the tears streaming down my face. Somewhere behind me I hear my Mom shouting for me, but I’m running now and will not stop until I know my Dad is safe. 

He is, he stands in the bar with a different beer in his hand and a goofy smile on his face. I rush over and wrap my arms around him, relieved that nothing happened to him. I asked around and found out this guy brought in a gun and fired two shots, one up to the ceiling and one on his leg. There was a stream of blood because his leg was bleeding out as he was carried to the ambulance. 

I tell my Dad it’s time to go home and he finishes his beer up, crushes it, and throws it on the ground. He stumbles all the way home and he has to lean on me so that he doesn’t fall. Thankfully he’s not a very big man so I don’t mind it as much. The way home is dark. There are no street lights in this town and my phone doesn’t have a flashlight. I rely mostly on my senses to get home, like feeling around the ground before I take a step to see if it’s okay. My younger siblings walk with me. No one says anything, the only sound is from my Dad singing very badly. He starts crying halfway through, apologizing for getting this drunk when he hasn’t seen us in years. 

I say nothing, just hoping I don’t fall over and bring us both down. We made it home finally and I lay him down in the guest bedroom. My Mom says nothing, she’s just glad we made it. I take his brown boots off and cover him in a blanket. Once he’s lying on his side I fill up a cup of water and put it on the nightstand next to him. He’s passed out and only then can I go to our room and sleep. I don’t sleep. But I toss and turn all night and end up crying the entire time.

How could he be this irresponsible? Why did he make his oldest daughter carry him home? What is wrong with him? These are the questions I’ve been wondering for years, this is not the first time he’s been this drunk and made a fool of himself. The next morning I have to be the one to tell him he has to leave. My Mom told me earlier that he can’t stay another night. So I tell him, he cries, clearly ashamed of himself. I feel bad then and start crying too. I walk him to the main street where a taxi is waiting for him. I hug him as tightly as I can and kiss his tear-stained cheeks. This is the last time I’ll ever see him.