Zulema Zahir and her legacy of love and kindness
9 years later.
____________________________________
It was christmas day. 9 years had gone by in which Maca had found back onto the right path. No criminal actions whatsoever had been made since she burned down their trailer. Sometimes her fingers itched and she dearly wanted to plan something but she was determined to stay away from bad. Soon her daughter would turn 10, and it was her responsibility to raise her. So she stayed away from everything that could possibly impact their lives negatively. It should stay that way. Nothing and no one would take that life away from her now. So she remained under the radar.
It was a nice winter day. People were happy. Everywhere outside Carol of the bells filled the people with christmas spirits, Kids were playing in the snow. Building a snowmans or having a snowball fight. Over all the christmas spirit was at high.
Maca and Maisa were decorateing their little appartment. It wasn‘t much but the both of them had plenty of room and it was pretty cozy.
Currently Maca was hanging up some fairy lights. The ones that change color. It was her thing. A silent memoir to her friend. When she heard excited squeels from the living room.
“Mom, Mom” the little one called. Her stomping little feet announcing her running over before Maca could even see her. „No running when you have stuff in your hands!” Maca censured her daughter with a smile. But the second her eyes fell upon the book she was holding. She stopped. And her daughter ignored her mother completely. Instead she was holding up a picture book quite literally shoving it right under äher nose. It was the book in which she had put the polaroids, cut out newspaper articles and the letter. “What is this?” The little ones big eyes sparked with curiosity.
“This Cariño” Macarena, who had returned to her work stopped what she was doing and stepped down the stool she’d been standing on, in order to take the Book from her daughters hands.
With a teethy smile she answered „This is the story of my life.” Her eyes never faltering. She was proudly looking at it. Without much sadness. “It’s the story about an very important person in my life to be precisely.” Only then did her eyes raised to meet her daughter’s. Haughtily, she continued, the smile never fadeing. “And the reason you carry that beautiful name of yours.” her hand patted Maisas head before she walked towards the couch into the livingroom. Sure of one thing. She didn‘t need to look back to know. Her daughter followed her religiously.
„Come here.“, she said anyway because it was important for her to show the love she held within. She herself learned it to late. To cherrishing the subtle moves of loved ones. This too was her attempt to make the past right.
Welcomely she patted the seat next to her on the sofa. „It‘s time for you to get to know your auntie.“
There was no need to tell her daughter twice. In a matter of seconds Maisa had jumped onto the couch next to her.
This kid was so eager to find out everything she could. About anything there was. Always snoepeing around, sticking her nose into things that weren’t her business, always planing her next adventure.And to be honest Maca was surprised that she hadn‘t find the book earlier.
Thinking about it Maisa had broken a couple of rules already that day. Yet this time Maca decided against putting her kid into the right place. It was christmas day after all. Today should be a day to celebrate. Even the legacy of a fallen one. From this christmas on she decided, she would tell her own christmal tales. So she started her own tradition, beginning withe the story of her life with Zulema.
„There was a time. A long time ago. Before you were born yet, when your mom was not as boring as she is now.“ Maisa escaped a giggle. „That’s how you would describe it no, Squirell?“ A still snickering child looked up to her mom. „Yea I would!“
She continued to tell her the story of her life. About the heists and their time back in Prison. About her parents and friends back then. And of course everything she knew about Zulema. Together they spend their day on the couch, occupied by the stories Maca told. She was holding her daughter as tight as humanly possible on her lap. Maisa attentivly listening to her mother‘s story. Occasionaly asking questions and following the pictures not to miss something important.
Maca let out the parts where they tried to kill each other and the pain they forced on each other because those didn’t matter no more. They obviously weren’t made for children ears either but the point is, that she forgave her other half for those things a long time ago. Zuelma had good in her and that was how Maisa ought get to know her for.
Zulema had given her something invaluable. Her daughter.
She wasn‘t able to be mad at her for things that seemed to far away nowerdays. Sure, she had lost a lot because of her and Maisa had no grandparents for exactly that reason. But she had learned to live with those wounds. Zulema had given up her life for her chance to get a new one. Something unrepayable without doubt. And cancer or not she choose to do good in her last moments. And that‘s how she‘s ought to be remembered. It‘s her legacy.
“Why is it that you can not see what someone did or who they really were?” Maisa asked suddenly looking at their polaroid.
“I don’t know.” Macarena was a bit surprised by such a question. But answer honestly lost in her own thoughts. „You can always guess but you‘ll never know for sure kf you don‘t have the guts to.....Is it important?”
“I think so.” the child mumbled pondering.
“Well I don‘t, so honey. Look at me.“
Maisa stopped flipping through the pictures. To look at her mom.
„I turned out fine didn’t I?“
„You’re a criminal.“ she grimaced with a judgeing look on her face.
A sight escaped Maca.
„Ex-criminal. But you‘re right.“ God this kid is a piece of work. she thought.
„But what do you see when you look at me?“
„My mom.“
„And am I bad?“
„No.“ She said with a smile yet squinting her eyes and sucking her teeth thinking *this is a trap* „You‘re my mom.“ She said considerabely after a minute. Then a pause. „And I never thought of you as a bad person.“
„See Squirill, some parts are meant to be stocked away. They are not important. What counts is the first impression. Not the looks...But rather the charisma. So look again. What do you see.“
„Two happy people.“
„That‘s right and that is exacl....„
„And we have LoAdS of money“, Maisa interrupted Macas incoming monologe blasé. „because of what you did. Like Loaaaads of moneY.“ She giiggled, emphezising the vaguely guessed quantity of their heists loads . „You’re a bad ass mom. But you look boring.“
„Honey.“, at times Maca was overstrained by her daughter.
This wasn‘t going into the direction she had in mind. She didn’t want her to see criminal behaviour as cool or positiv. It wasn‘t.
Just out for the money. Unbelievable. If the worst you turn out to be is a fraud I managed to do just fine in the parenting department. Maca thought.
While thinking about wether or not she should hold a speech about how money isn‘t everything and Criminal behaviour is to be punished she quickly, after some contemplateing of the situation came to the concluesion that, with her past it wasn‘t really her place to do that.
*Zule showed her how to cherrish the little things. And she does. They live in a quite small apartment right now, but her daughter just didn‘t quite yet fathom why they didn‘t put the money they owned to use.*
„Sometimes life just ...happens. People change.“
„You did for sure. You got boring.“
„Hey!“
„Sorry.“ Two guilty eyes turned into her direction.
„You‘re not boring...“ A dirty smirk appeared.
„Not all the time, at least“
They laughed together.
„Look, what I meant is. There is a certain evolution in each person. You grow. Get wiser.“
„But you were in your fourties mom!“ Her daughter interrupted unchanantly. „You just turned I don’t know. Turned ancient.“
„Well you never stop learning. I guess.
You are never the same at two points in your life. You change. Evolve. You get to improve. Even when you turn “ancient”. The last part more adressed at herself than to her daughter. Was she really that boring and old?
“Where is she now?” Maisa asked out of the blue examining a picture of Zulema.
“Who?” Maca asked baffled.
“Suleima?“ she stated dryly, weirdly pronouncing her name while pointing at the portrait of the woman. „You told me all these amazing stories about her but never said why you two don’t hang out anymore. If life was so good with her when you were together doing your thing why leave that life behind?”
“She...” Macarena searched for words. For an explnaition she didn’t have. Why did she leave her criminal past? Zulema died, and she had to take responsibility for her daughter once she was born sure, but she was smart. She could have figured something out. To keep both. Her daughter aswell as her criminal life. She would have survived. But now she was stuck in this ordinary life on her own. Well not completely alone. She had her daughter but....there was no but Maca found. She lost her old life when she made the decision to set foot into the helicopter. She could have stayed. Taken revenge or whatever but she walked away choosing this common life. The life Zulema made possible for them. Yet her mind deceived her.
Because I failed her terribly
It was the truth. Nothing but the ugly truth. She wanted to let it out, but gulped those words away. Guilty.
Instead she said.
“She got lost on the way.” with a sad undertone.
“She never really left through.” Maca continued unsure of why she wasn’t telling her the entire truth. Let alone what she wanted to tell her at all. Maybe I didn‘t manage to move on after all. „and you were born“ she rumbled on.
„Zulema is still on this journey with us.“ She paused. Thinking hardly. Then added „yet, not there after all. You never got to meet your aunt but you know her. Deep down you know her. You’re more like her than you know, actually.” That was it. She wouldn‘t let anything else out about this. Not today. It was christmas.
“ I don’t understand you Mom, you’re weird and talk in riddles all the time. You‘re a fool for not telling me the reason straight away.”
That made her laught out loud. Her little monkey was smarter that she thought.
„Well find out for yourself then.“ Maca challanged her. Knowing very well that sooner or later the time would come wher she had to tell her nothing but the truth. She would tell her the whole story when she’d be old enough but until then it would be at least 9 more years.
Maisa was struggeling what to make out of that. Quickly, changing the subject as she didn‘t want to talk about something she had no control over.
„I like her tattoo“, she pointed at the black line right under Zulemas left eye. Following it’s slightly wonky line with her index finger.
„What is it?“
„ A teardrop.“
„Qué?“
„A teardrop.“ She repeated. „You‘re aunty got it for someone very special.“
„For you?“
„No. Not for me. She lost someone dear to her. Someone more important than I could have ever been.“
„who?“
Maca didn‘t answer. This was no subject such a small person ought to deal with. So she kept silent.
Her daughter understood. And moved on with another question.
„Then what does it mean?“
Kids and their questions.
She could tell her that at least.
„I always found myself to believe that it resembled still remembrance but more so strength.“
Macas hands wrapped around Maisa‘s shoulders to turn her around softly. Then she placed her right hand on the right side of the girls chest. She’d been born special. Because of a defeact her heart turned out to be a mirror image situated on the right side in her chest.
Maca let her hand rest over her little ones heart. A steady heartbeat fullfilling her body with warmth.
Her eyes lifted up to gaze into her daughter‘s. A fierce green greeted her.
A perfect mirror image of Zule’s eyes.
Oh. How much she had loved them.
She put her right indexfinger under her daughters left eye.
„I have faith in that the tears we shed, the pain we suffer.“
She slowly let her index finger trace it’s way down towards it‘s destination. Mimicking Zulemas tear tattoo.
„It will fall right into our heart.“
She stopped, then tapped her finger onto her heart.
„Filling it up.“ She smiled bright. But it doesn’t drown us. Instead it’s makeing us stronger. So we can return with more fortiude.“ She let her hand rest over her heart once again. Protectively.
„Someone once told me that we should be careful not to shed to many tears as you can cry them all away. So see the positive in things Cariño vale? Promise me that you never ever let someone change the way you feel so deeply. It would be sad to loose something so precious.“
I know someone who did. They tattooed a tear when there were none more left to shed. If the first tear leals from the left eye you cry from sadness. The right side resemles joy. She never came to tell her daughter that as she intereupted her train of thoughts.
„Mom, you‘re doing it again?!“ Maisa said annoyed. „But the tattoo is still bad ass.“
„Mouth!“
„Sorry. It’s really freaking cool.“
Maca‘s eyebrow raised doubting the improvement.
„She would have liked you, you know.“
Maisa raised an eyebrow in return, obviously questioning her mothers words. She wanted to say something smart again but when she saw her mothers eyes glistening on the verge of shedding tears she decided not to. Instead she walked over to the radio and turned it on.
It was one of the few interior pieces she had kept from the Caravan.
Once Maisa had found a station she liked she started danceing.
Driving home for christmas was playing.
🎶I'm driving home for Christmas, yea
Well I'm moving down that line
And it's been so long
But I will be there🎶
Maca observed her every movement. Blinking her tears away rapitly because she was laughing to much. She was giggeling non stop as Maisa wasn‘t really danceing. She was jumping around uncontrolably throwing her arms in every direction. Another whole hearty laugh escaped her.
You really are the incarnation of that puto elfo. Not so much the infierno part tho. How did that happen?
She wondered then shoke her head laughing.
With a smirk painted on her face she walked up to her daughter and took her into her arms. A tight embrace. Her shin resting on her daughters head. Not dareing to let her go any time soon. This time her hug was returned. Honest small arms were returning her gesture. Hugging her tightly around her waist.
She was tall for her age.
You might have gotten Zulema’s attitude, however that had happened is a mystery.
But your heart is in the right place.
You got my way of loving.
And that was enough.
She was okay with that.
It had become dark outside already and as she stood there with her daughter she dared to glance out of the window. *search for me inbetween the stars when it gets hard.* Times were not hard at the moment. Yet in that moment she felt closer to her scorpion. „Thank you.“ it escaped Maca in a breathed whisper.
Her daughter looked up to her.
„I love you too mom“
she caresst her face.
„I love you cariño.“
I‘ll never stop loving you
The song ended. Another one following in its wake. A familiar song.
🎶And maybe, I'll find out
A way to make it back someday
To watch you, to guide you through🎶
„Will you let me go?“ A small voice muffeled into her chest?
Never. I made that mistake once.
Maca let her loose. Taking her hands into her own immediately. Afraid to lose her for a second if she wasn‘t fast enough.
„Mirame. I’ll show you how to dance properly.“
Hesitently, Maisa obeyed. Not enjoying it at all but when she saw thw look on her mothers face. How happy it made her mom. She played along. And that was the only important thing for her. One of her reasons why.
🎶Way up high or down low, I'll go wherever you will go
Run away with my heart”🎶
You grabed my heart and ran away. Please don’t break it. But you sliped and it slided through your hands. It shattered into a million pieces when you decided that your time had come.
“Run away with my hope
Run away with my love🎶
They were slowly danceing. Outside the snow kept falling, thick beautiful soothing snowflakes falling onto the ground. One star brighter than all the others. Probably a trick of her mind. But in her eyes a special someone was looking over them just now. The snow was covering everything in a protective fluffly white. And the world was at peace.
The lyrics spoke to her. She got set back 9 years ago when she burned down her past. Sitting in the car with Saray. Reading the letter.
Zulema was right after all. Like always. You can‘t burn something down that never existed in the first place. And yet here she was. Their little play pretend confusing her for eternity. There but not there.
Love is two faced .
A vicious thing. It either lets you exist in happines forever in a perfect love blinded world or it takes you down with it. Heartbreak crumbeling you down one piece at a time.
She thought.
You ran away with my heart and my hope. You didn‘t take my love. Not all of it.
She looked down at Maisa who was watching her.
You showed me what love really is even through you were afraid of it.
There is only one love, stronger than loving your life, one thing stronger than your survival instinct. Maternal love. It took everything from you. But it gave everything to me. I couldn‘t do it. I couldn‘t leave her alone. Because of you I had to accept just that you always were one step ahead of me.
Maca also always believed that she was a closed off book hard to read. Invincible, but Maisa, as Zulema could always look right through her facade. They read her with ease. And even through she was only 9 years old she understood. More than she let show. She understood that Zulema and Maca had her roots somewhere set somewhere more complex. There was more to it than her mom had told her. However, she trusted her mom. If she didn’t want to tell her right now the right time would eventually come. At some point she would tell her.
„What is it?“ she asked anyways. Looking into her mothers eyes concerned, not really expacting an answer. But wanting to help nontheless.
„Nothing.“ Maca whispered lost in thoughts. Takeing her in for another hug. Never letting her go. Silently paying tribute to Zulema. I feel you, even through your not at my side.
„We should do something special today don‘t you think?“ she finally said after minutes had past.
Because the things that we don‘t see are closer to us than we think. I feel you closer today than I have in years. That‘s why we‘ll go.
„I think it’s about time for you to met your other aunties. What do you think?“
They looked at each other.
Music was playing.
🎶I try to run, try to run
But I come back again
I look in your eyes, don't have a choice
You'll be the death of me
But there's nowhere that I'd rather be🎶
„I‘d like that.“
And so they made their way towards a special someones house for christmas eve.