Plea

- Adentro del pecho, y en la garganta
- ¿Porque será que la tristeza se siente siempre ahí?

- Manuel Puig, El beso de la mujer araña

Who’s that in the picture?

That’s my kid. Damian.

He looks like you. Who’s that with him?

The lady who adopted him. Mara.

You gave up your rights?

They told me I’d get a lighter sentence.

Yeah, that’s what they told me too.

Did you?

What?

Give up your rights?

Yeah. My sister has my two oldest, and the baby is with his dad’s mom.

Fuck.

Yeah.

You get to talk to them? The two oldest, I do.

...

Can I see?

What?

The picture.

Are you blind?

Can I hold it? I wanna see something.

Don’t bend it.

…

Don’t smudge it.

...

What?

That’s what I thought.

What?

I know her.

Who? Mara?

That’s Pastor Mara.

***

I was right.

That’s a first.

…

Come on. About what?

That’s Mara in the picture.

I’m the one who told you that, dummy.

Nah, I asked her in Women of Faith today. If she has any kids.

Lots of people have kids.

She said she adopted her kid. Daniel.

I told you, my kid’s Damian.

She changed the name, dummy.

He wouldn’t let her do that.

How old was he?

When?

When you caught your case.

He was a baby. Sixteen months.

So she changed his name. It’s close enough. Daniel. Damian.

Maybe I’ll talk to her.

You want to go to Women in Faith?

I don’t know.

You’ll get credits. Get out early and get in good with your kid’s new mom. Two for one.

I don’t know.

Just try it. Just talk to her.

Maybe.

***

What did you think?

Of what?

Women in Faith.

It’s like Sunday school, but with drug addicts instead of little kids.

Shit.

Nah, it’s all right. The cookies were good.

You gonna go back?

Probably.

Did you ask her?

Ask her what?

About Damian-Daniel.

Not yet.

Just ask her.

What will I say?

That your celly told you she had a kid. Ask to see a picture.

Maybe.

***

It’s him.

Oh, shit.

…

You sure? Did you see a picture?

No.

How come?

You know volunteers can’t bring anything in.

Then how do you know?

I told her my birthday was yesterday.

Shit, celly! I missed your birthday? I’m sorry.

No, dumbass. It was Damian’s birthday.

…

She said that yesterday was her son’s birthday too.

What are you gonna do?

I don’t know yet.

You should write him a letter. Give it to her.

You think she’d take it?

Why not? She’s supposed to be helping us.

She changed his name.

She’s a pastor. She doesn’t want a demon kid running around.

That’s not what his name means.

You didn’t see The Omen?

Shut up.

…

It means powerful.

Yeah, evil powers.

…

Are you crying?

…

Shit.

…

I was just joking.

…

I’m sorry, celly.

…

Just write him a letter. She’s a nice lady.

***

Did you give it to her?

Yeah.

What did she say?

Not much. She seemed surprised.

Like how?

Like, first she looked freaked out. Her hands were shaking when I gave it to her. So were mine.

Did you tell her you’re his momma?

I said my baby had been adopted when I was sentenced. That his name was Damian. That he turned four last week. And that I thought he might be Daniel.

You laid it out!

The virtue of the week was Honesty. I was trying to get extra credit.

Haha. Shit, celly.

But she took it. She was real nice to me after that. We cried. She gave me a hug.

They didn’t see?

It was Rodriguez. He ignored it.

He’s all right.

...

My God. What if he writes you back?

He’s four years old, you fool!

…

Maybe.

***

Where were you today?

…

Are you skipping Women in Faith? They kick you out if you miss two in a row. You better be there next week.

…

I almost asked Pastor Mara for your letter, but she was rushed today. Got there late. We were all baking in the sun waiting for her to open the chapel. And then she left a few minutes early.

…

Why didn’t you go?

I tried.

I didn’t see you.

They pulled me into visitation. Before.

Shit. What for?

It was with El Rassi. He wanted to talk to me. Mara was peeking through the window.

No way. What for?

He said I’m out of Women in Faith. My credits are wiped.

What?

And I’m not allowed any programs for the rest of the year.

Shit.

They said I attempted to pass contraband and engage in unauthorized communication.

That bitch!

She was there. She was watching through the window.

That’s why she was late!

That’s why she was late.

And now you’re banned.

I’m banned.

Contrabanned.

…

Sorry.

…

***

What’s this?

What?

This picture. In my bunk.

Oh, that’s my old celly’s.

Is that Pastor Mara?

Nah. Just looks like her.

I think that’s her.

Gimme that.

What happened to her?

Who?

She out?

Mara?

Your celly.

Oh. Infirmary.

Was it contagious?

...

What was wrong with her? Am I gonna catch something in this bed?

She quit eating.

Was it the flu?

No. She was just… sad.

Oh, good. I mean. Not that she was sad. That it’s not contagious.

You sure about that?

...

Illustration by Catalina Aranguren

Catalina was born in Bogotá, Colombia and raised in Caracas, Venezuela. She is an artist and community organizer actively involved in enhancing and promoting Jersey City’s vibrant arts culture. An immigrant herself, Catalina is passionate about fostering social equity and giving everyone a voice, incorporating her passion for visual arts in grassroots creative placemaking efforts.

Catalina studied photography and design at the School of the Art Institute of Chicago, where she received her BFA. Before she graduated, she studied abroad for a semester at the Spéos Photographic Institute in Paris, France.

She is currently raising three bustling, bilingual, biracial, and bicultural boys in New Jersey with her husband and their giant dog.