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A Latina in the late 1980's America

I remember going from one alley to another as business owners chased me down wanting me to leave the sites of their stores. I had nothing other than the things I managed to get my hands on, I found an old t-shirt, broken shorts, and two different shoes that barely fit me, and that was it. What I had on was all I had, all I was worth for.

I woke up this one morning, two weeks after I left my home on June 17, 1985, the breeze on the park's bench was dry, cold, and unsatisfying. I stared down to the side of my arms, the spaces on the bench embedded in my arm.

I remember running my hand up and down my arm as I scratched the itchiness from the dryness of my skin. The last time I took a shower was the day before I left, I smelled like a skunk that has been living down the sewers of the Bronx for three years.

Still, at breaking down, the headlights of cars would illuminate the streets as I walked to the nearest dumpster. Never in my life would I'd imagine I would be one of those people who go searching through the trash of others in the search for scraps, but like my papá used to say "one man's trash is another man's treasure" and how true that was. For the last fourteen days, dumpster diving had put food on my stomach and kept me from going hungry.

I stood up from the bench and started walking to see what my meal of the day would be, some days I'd get lucky and find food more than once, but that had happened only twice. The rest of the days I've had one meal, sometimes for breakfast others for lunch. In fourteen days I have lost weight like never before.

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I ran across the street as noticed someone eyeing me for the past two turns I took, so I hurried my pace as I went down the block, as I took a turn to my right down an alley, a black sedan pulled in from the other side.

I stopped in my tracks, my heart rate rising, I could feel the palpations on my throat, it felt as if my heart was being pulled out of my mouth, the sinking feeling on my stomach kept intensifying, especially after the door flew open.

I could barely see anything, the lights blinding me as I tried focusing my sight, and then, a tall figure stepped out of it, the sounds of heels echoing through the alley. The sound ended as the figure stopped in front of the car, the shadow was captivating, from the outskirt of a massive fedora to the dancing end of a scarf of feathers that did so as the wind blew through the alley.

I swallowed hard, the gulping sound echoing out of my body, the lights of the car went off, the figure spoke "child, come closer" I knew I should do the opposite, in any other circumstance I would have, but there was something that draws me in, and so, I did as I was told.

"You must not fear me, child, I've been keeping an eye on you for the past four days" the soothing yet firm voice of this woman was like a breath of fresh air "who are you?" I asked her as I kept a better part of six feet away.

"My name is Elenor" she replied to me, and those words, that pronunciation, the power in her vibrato, good lord it was everything I dreamed of making people feel when they heard my name but could simply admire as I stood there.

"What is your name child?" I remained in silence, not knowing whether I should tell her, the sun began to rise and so the darkness of the alley turned into a soft light that kept on growing, with each second, Elenor's figure becoming more apparent.

As I looked up and saw the powerful black woman that stood in front of me, in her well-fitted cloth the words flew out my mouth "Marritza" she looked at me and a broad smile formed on her face "well Marritza" as I heard her say my name, I thought to myself "she pronounced it correctly" I tried with all of my body not to smile as I re-focused on her as she continued "it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance"