| |
As Time Goes
By
By Camincha
iUniverse
66 pages
ISBN:
0-595-36275-3
The local author and poet Camincha has published her debut
novella. Two Peruvian immigrants, twenty-four-year old Etienne and nineteen-year-old Mimi, meet and fall in love in San Francisco. They marry and soon await the birth of their first child. The 1950s are
a time of prosperity in the United States—when young couples, unlike
their parents, can dream of getting a piece of the American Dream,
including their own homes and cars. Mimi and Etienne, with their three
children, dare to embrace this dream—but with painful consequences. As
their romantic story unfolds—filled with erotic connotations, surprises,
and traumas— Mimi and Etienne try to fit in, learn, and cope in their
foreign environment. They also learn how to survive troubles of the body
and soul, the passions of the heart, love and betrayal in their marriage,
and the pain of doubts and disappointments. As Time Goes By accurately
portrays the sights and sounds of the streets of San Francisco and the suburbs provide them with a stage.
Mimi and Etienne become much more than characters as they weep with the fog, smile with the sunshine,
and flavor their lives with the salty spray of the ocean.
New Book Excerpt!
View? What view?
New to San Francisco, the view of the city extending to the edge of the ocean outside the
Porter's, Etienne's landlords, second floor, main bedroom window on Mercedes Street in the Ingleside district, didn't mean a thing to her. What was important
and kept Mimi, nineteen, full of questions, expectations, was the view of
her life ahead forming in her mind, her heart, her body.
He is so good looking, in Miraflores they might never have met. Their
age difference, five years, he would have been around women that would
know how to act, how to respond. Mimi had said no to every guy who asked
her to go steady. When her best girlfriend asked, why? What are you afraid
of, Mimi? He might want to kiss Mimi had answered. When she told Etienne
he looked deep into her eyes with curiosity, surprise, disbelieve. You
mean ... you've never kissed ...? he exclaimed.
It is very nice, Mimi said to the slight, stooped figure. The grey blue
eyes smiled with appreciation that deepened the furrows on her face as she
held her gaze on Mimi's brown eyes, moist-carmine-sensuous lips, curly
hair glistening in the intense July sun. It hurts to look at so much
beauty, energy, sensuality. This exotic teenager. Like a dahlia flower,
the woman thought and turned to lead the way out of the room.
MIMI, BILLY AND Willy had made the trip from Perú to Portland on the Yaraví, a ship with several stops, whose precious cargo included
raw materials from the mines in the Peruvian mountains. They became best
friends. Then the three traveled by Greyhound to California.
Aboard the ship there had been entertaining, informative after dinner
sessions where plans, jokes, stories went round and round the table. Mimi
mostly just smiled and listened. So much to learn!
One favorite topic was the United States open immigration quota to Perú that inflamed the minds of many,
adventurous young and old, to try their luck away from family and friends.
But, let's just face it, someone pointed out one evening, USA wants our materia prima, our minerals.
That's why they are being so nice to Perú. And of course our politicians are only too happy to sell to
them.
On the light side, there were fun snapshot sessions on deck, for which the
officers loaned their caps to the girls who coquettishly tipped them over
one eye before they smiled at the camera. Boating outings to ports of
call. Unlimited use of typewriters. Some of the passengers took to writing
letters, diaries, poetry. The First Lieutenant offered to teach Mimi how
to type.
The First Lieutenant forty-two, slender, dark asked her, you didn't
know the officers quarters were different than the passengers? Let me show
you. Mimi felt his hand burning hers and took a step back. Gave up his
typewriting lessons when she felt his breath burning her neck. Mimi had
heard. married has five children. Regular "Don Juan."
Mimi's father had instructed her to go to the Peruvian Consulate in San Francisco soon as she arrived and to keep in
touch with them: If anything happens to you they will notify me right away. Give this letter to the Consul,
Lizardi. Him and I were best friends when we were at the Peruvian Embassy
in La Paz. Mimi dutifully went to deliver his letter. Mimi, Billy and Willy
walked into the suite on Montgomery Street. A receptionist escorted them to an office where a young diplomat, the
Cultural Attaché, got up from his desk to greet them. The handsome
red-head, smiled, Good afternoon.
Mimi, all bright eyes, pearly teeth, exuding animal energy, smiled at him:
Hello, good afternoon I am here to see the Consul. Sparks flew between them. Never finished the sentence. Surprised, pointed to a
silver-framed photo on his desk and exclaimed, those are the Morellis.
I am Morelli. They are my parents, handsome, redhead answered,
smiling amused.
They live around the corner from my house. Mimi insisted, amazed. She had
just left Miraflores and here was someone who used to live around the
block from her!
What street?
Juan Fanning. Mimi smiled.
Right! Right! We live in Colón.
A bond was born between them.
The magic had spread to Billy and Willy. They smiled, a conspiratorial
look in their eyes.
Handsome had taken in the bright eyes and sensuous lips. Smiling, his
light brown eyes set on Mimi, he let the sparks go right through him. That
moment frozen in time became theirs forever. Later he would say to her: I
treasure the memory of the girl you were that afternoon. Years later
he would add, why can't you be that girl for me now?
Handsome became her first date. Taught her to dance, taught her to
kiss, to enjoy sex, to want sex. How to use her body to please a man. To
whisper sweet nothings while playing with his earlobe to make him want
her. With him, Mimi became a woman.
ROSITA HAPPENED TO Mimi the way things happen when you are nineteen with
all your tomorrows ahead and all you have to do is just be. And they
became friends.
In the Yaraví, a fellow passenger had spoken of a friend and told Mimi: when
you get to San Francisco call him he knows a lot of people. She called him.
Yes. I know a family you can rent a room from, he said.
The rented flat at Pacific and Kearny was then occupied by Mimi, Lorena and Teddy, Rosita and her husband, and
John. John, who didn't talk to anyone but Rosita. Ever. If you passed him
in the hallway would look down at the floor and go silently on his way.
Below their home a bakery opened its huge metal doors at three in the
morning. And the fog horns could be heard all night long.
Life at Rosita~s was less restricted than at Mimi's parents. Mimi. In fact
she must have put in a good word for her to her husband a morose, taciturn
man who was seen around the house but hardly heard. He didn't have to. He
just muttered his wishes to his wife of thirty years and they were done.
But Rosita didn't ordered, she suggested.
He has a car? iOh niña! that is not so good. No. Cars are dangerous to
young people. You find yourselves in odd positions. Mimi didn't
understand. Didn't ask. She felt uncomfortable. Threatened. How would
Rosita know? She had never owned one.
THE NIGHT OF Mimi's date the plump, moonfaced, kind Rosita, hair freshly
braided, cheeks red bright apples forgot to be assertive. Four feet tall
she smiled up at Etienne with that mix of coquetry and shyness learned
from the women in her family. To Etienne she gave her own brand of
welcoming, bright stars shining in her eyes, hands nervously twisting the
edge of her apron, voice suddenly low and pleading. Good thing he spoke
Spanish she had never learned English.
Pero una tacita de café antes de irse, Señor... sólo una tacita ¿si?
Please, call me Etienne, his smile radiated appreciation.
Etienne. She savored the name like it was candy and smiling looked
at him sideways before walking back to the stove.
It was Mimi's first date. Her father would never have allowed it. She
is only nineteen, Mimi could hear him say.
Copyright © 2006 Camincha
|
