bok

told him where to find them and I asked him to bring the ones of El Gran
Combo so that I could give them to my cousin. When he came back
everyone gathered around him. The passed the pictures down and before
my eyes they all got a little older. For a lot of them what they had
previously thought about things in life had now changed. For my younger
cousins this was something “cool”, and “hip”, “awesome”. My relative’s
little kids asked me if I’d seen E.T. in his ship. Their parents told them to
be quiet. The older were lost in their thoughts. Mamá brought my food out
and told them to leave me alone.
When I got up to go eat they all offered me help in getting me to the
kitchen. I thanked them but told them I could make it on my own. I didn’t
like being treated that way, like I was sick or something. I was still thankful
that they wanted to help though. I couldn’t eat in peace however. They shot
at me with questions, one after the other. Even my grandmother, who had
asked them to leave me alone, had now joined them. I told them to knock
themselves out because after they were done and satisfied and I wasn’t
going to repeat anything. My uncles, aunts, cousins and grandmother came
up with their own theories. They then started to argue amongst each other.
Each of them thought that their theory of what had happened to me was the
best. I saw them and heard them but it was as if I wasn’t there. My mind
was wandering in its own theories and conclusions, all the while trying to
recall those lost memories for which I had no explanation.
That night I received a phone call from my father, who lived on the east
side of Puerto Rico. More family had gathered home so by the time he
called the house was again packed. They all went silent to try and hear the
conversation, or at least my part of it. They’d already called him so he was
already quite up to speed. He told that he thought it was all work of the
65