Rumors
Thirteen fuzzy teddy bears silently kept watch inside Michelle's eight by ten bedroom, while she stood completely nude underneath the running showerhead located inside the Mantez’s hallway bathroom.
Each one was a different color – ranging from a sandy tan, to gaudy red, to a quite unusual shade of pale blue. Additionally, most were medium in size, stretching to slightly over a foot in height. The exceptions were a few small ones resting inside Michelle’s bookshelf, and a rather plump four foot one quietly sitting in a far corner, displaying a large half-mooned shaped, ear-to-ear grin.
For anyone unfamiliar with the Mantez’s residence, there wasn’t any doubt that the back corner bedroom of the white cedar block, thirty-six hundred square-foot home belonged to a female in her mid to late teens.
Who else, after all, would clutter their desk and night stand with multicolored ceramics of unicorns, puppies and dolphins, and have photos of previous boyfriends and posters of Latin musicians lining every inch of free space on three out of four, light pink bedroom walls?
“Michelle. Are you almost done, dear?” Ana called from the living room where she and her husband, Paco, were watching a “Name that Tune” game show on T.V. “It’s eight o’clock and Alita has just informed me our supper will be on the table in about five minutes.”
“Five minutes? That’s all?” Michelle frowned as she continued to guide the soapy washcloth resting in her hand across the back of her right shin. “Alita didn’t use Minute Rice tonight, did she Mom? How come supper is going to be ready so soon?”
Ana readily glanced toward the kitchen, and their live-in housekeeper, who was stirring the medium-sized pot of red beans cooking on their gas stove, vigorously shook her head while pointing to an oversized blue and white cardboard box sitting on a nearby shelf.
“No. It’s not Minute Rice, Dear,” Ana hollered back in her daughter’s direction. “It’s the regular kind.”
Michelle halfway smiled and turned off the running water. “Good. That instant stuff isn’t nearly as good as the one which takes twenty minutes.”
In what seemed only a few seconds later, Alita sat a thirty-six-inch silver platter containing a hot, onion and tomato smothered roast onto the center of the table, near numerous bowls of white rice, freshly picked green beans, and a heaping mound of home-cooked rolls. She then turned and gave both Paco and Ana a respectful nod, before exiting the dining room.
Soon thereafter, the Mantez family gently grasped each other's hands and shared a spiritual blessing.
“Father,” Michelle said, when she began to slice the piece of beef on her plate. “Has José contacted you recently about anything?”
Paco gazed in his daughter’s direction, and abruptly released a not so subtle grunt. “Why should José contact me? I don’t have anything he might need or want?”
Ana instantly released a small chuckle, before covering her mouth and hopefully, successfully suppressing the chest-spawned laugh which had built up within her. “I’m afraid you’re badly mistaken, dear. We do have something – Michelle.”
“Michelle?” Paco narrowed his furrowed brows and earnestly looked at his well-developed, fully grown daughter. “Why would José have any interest in Michelle? Doesn’t he already have a girlfriend?”
“He used to,” Michelle answered, using the reverent tone of a humble child. “But Maria’s gone to the United States and isn’t expected back until sometime next year.”
“Oh?” Paco paused as he studied his mischievous offspring’s expression, and a small grin formed on his lips. “And I take it you're thinking about stealing him away from her?”
Michelle nodded, while her cheeks involuntarily turned more shades of red than what could be found on a Prunus cherry tree ready for picking.
“Hello?” Michelle answered, picking up her pink princess-styled phone when it loudly resounded, minutes after supper was completed and she had returned to her bedroom.
“Hi Michelle,” Carlita replied, shutting off the portable black-and-white TV located on top of her dresser. “You never would guess what Elena told me tonight?”
“Elena?” Michelle repeated, recalling the thin, dark haired, dark-eyed girl who lived on the far side of town where the economically unblessed resided. “You still talk to the little slut now that school is over?”
Carlita nodded, though it was virtually impossible for her girlfriend to see her. “I just happened to run into her while shopping downtown.”
“Oh?” Michelle rolled her eyes upward and took a lengthy glance at the ceiling.
“Yes,” Carlita continued. “My mother took me to the new store Sears recently built so we could do some shopping. My older sister, Isabell, is getting married a couple of months from now so my mother thought it would be a good idea to start dress shopping since she’s going to be the mother of the bride, and I’m going to be a bridesmaid.”
For the following fifteen minutes, Michelle patiently waited with the phone’s headset glued to her ear as Carlita continued, providing each exquisite detail of every dress she and her mother tried that afternoon. Some of those described were pure white, with trailing embroidered roses along the bottom. While others, were a light pink and had a V-shaped front. An additional one was a light green in color, and its style tried to resemble a spring flower.
“You just would not believe all the ….”
“Carlita,” Michelle finally interrupted, shaking her head. “Could you just please tell me whatever it was Elena said you thought was important enough to give me a call?”
“Elena?” The tone in Carlita's voice indicated she had forgotten all about her.
“Yes, Elena,” Michelle said. “Isn’t it the reason you called?”
“I guess.” Carlita's lowered tone of voice reflected the disappointment she felt upon discovering her friend wasn’t really interested in hearing the details regarding her dress shopping adventure. “So what did you want to know about Elena? Do you miss seeing her in our English class?”
“No,” Michelle said, gritting her teeth. “At the beginning of this call you said that Elena had told you something you wanted to pass on.”
“I did?”
A moment of dead silence prevailed.
“Yes, you did,” Michelle confirmed.
“Oh. Well, it’s not really that important,” Carlita said, sounding like she finally remembered what she had called Michelle about. “… and most likely, she’s mistaken anyway.”
“Mistaken about what?” Michelle said, pounding her closed fist on the top of her desk.
“José.”
Michelle gasped. “José? What about José? He’s isn’t dating another girl, is he?”
Carlita silently shook her head. “No. Something far worse. Elena claims she saw someone who looked just like him a couple blocks away from El Gato Feliz. You know … that gay bar downtown. And he was dressed as a drag queen.”