Page 12 - Dr. Nisha Bunke

Casa Chiquita

By Sharon Hightower

I don’t know where the heat of our passion came from. Normally, would be good at both. And he was so eager.
I’m a sensible reasonably sane individual, but this came over me It was a whirlwind romance that really began on Halloween, but
like a tidal wave and pushed my borders way beyond their normal was wrapped up and tossed aside like last year’s Christmas tree
lines. by the time the New Year rolled around. I guess his wife wasn’t as
As she continue to speak, it was hard for me to listen. How many of stupid as me and rather quickly put two and two together. He was
us have had these “close encounters,” I wondered? And, even now, leaving his comfy almost bachelor life style for a new apartment.
after she’s been gone so long, I feel the need to protect her even It didn’t add up. She quickly realized what he was up to and
while knowing how much she’d wanted to share her story. She decided to come to the U.S. for a visit.
continued… Thus it was that he had to tell me about her - lying there next to
There were rules for God’s sakes and I followed them. Yes, I was a me. “I’m married. I have two kids.” It hit me like a ton of bricks. I
child of the 60s, but frankly, I thought the Berkeley gang a bit mad. don’t know why. I don’t know what I was expecting. Surely I hadn’t
After all, you can’t fight city hall. Besides, what did I know about thought he’d marry me. I mean the age difference, the cultural
Vietnam? Was it any worse than Korea? difference, the differences too numerous to mention. What was
Still, I’d been married to a cop for goodness sakes. And he had I thinking?
rules. I know now that he hadn’t followed them, but I had. You don’t (Rueful laugh) That’s right. I wasn’t thinking. I was just feeling. And
drink and drive. You don’t go out without a slip on. You don’t spit in for that precious short time, it was marvelous. Wonderful. Damn
the wind. close to perfect. I loved him. How stupid is that?
What, then, in God’s name was I thinking? How did I get involved
in a relationship that still haunts me 20 years later? And I can only
imagine where it might have gone, where I might be if the rules
weren’t so clear or if I’d understood his culture at all.
I grew up in Lily White Lakewood next to the only Mexican family
in town. And they were a salvation for my mother whose deep dark
skin caused whispers wherever we went. It kept her out of the PTA.
I think it caused her much pain, but with Polly next door and their
mutual fondness for cervezas along with their mutual belief in the
Catholic tenant of the rhythm method and the resulting number of
babies, they found in each other a soul mate. And I grew up think-
ing I knew the Mexican culture as well as any white chick.
But nothing prepared me for the intensity of his stare. I could feel it
across the room like some 20th century laser beam. Why won’t he
stop looking at me?
I’d been teaching for nearly 10 years and in the ESL classroom and
was surrounded by young studs vying for attention – mine, theirs,
and a bevy of young women. And I had been – while not oblivious
– impervious to this. I knew my place. I knew the rules. And I’ll be
damned if I was going to risk my career for the attention of a young
buck.
I’m sure he was way too young for me, but he wasn’t a child. Like
many of his contemporaries, he was older than his chronological
age. Many by virtue of their circumstances have had to grow up far
too fast. But he wasn’t old enough to realize that he should have
explained things to me. I was the naïve one.
Only later – when it was too late – did I realize that the new
apartment he was so eager to show, even though it wasn’t even
furnished yet, only much later did I realize it was supposed to be
ours. He had left the comfort and safety of his roommates and
ventured out on his own to provide this for me: The Casa Chiquita –
the little house where one kept his mistress and second family, a
common enough occurrence in Mexico and the U.S. especially
among Mexican immigrant men who had left their wives and
families behind.
He was preening like the proverbial rooster as he showed off the
sparkling kitchen and the spacious living room. He marched
upstairs and proudly opened the door to the bedroom – our bed-
room. If only I had known. Would I have behaved any differently?
I was a single mom, but my mothering days were over and so I had
recently put my celibacy behind me. I hadn’t entertained even the
idea of dating while my children were still young, but one has needs
and the kids were grown now and had children of their own now.
Besides, everyone wants to be loved and cherished. And I knew he