Another Border Crossing by Amanda Aileen Fisher

Styrofoam cups tower from her blue nylon bag. A cabbage and a red-capped milk swing in the plastic one hanging from her other. There will be a party. Today, Paulo arrives on the bus—her youngest son. He tries to come every Saturday, but he cannot always. Sometimes he has to take a job if the call comes, and it has been a busy April. Josefina is grateful for this, but she has missed him.

Today is even more special because he is bringing Inez. He has waited many months to bring her. Josefina knows this means something—his waiting, this length of time, and all the choices contained along that length. He is being gentle with her. With both of them. With all of them—himself too.

Inez takes her name from the other side of another border. It means pure, holy. Josefina learned this from her own mother, who read stories aloud after the evening meal, from the one book they had. Does her son know this too? It seems so. She hopes so. It is hard for a boy to learn this about a woman, and perhaps it is the thing that makes him a man—this knowledge, the knowing of every woman’s holiness, the body not to be used in sacrifice. Her own mother might have said in vain, but she believes in sacrifice. Like laying a gentle lamb upon a grass-bedded hill to slay for a false god. Her bags feel heavier as she remembers that time of her own life. It was at thirty-six that she realized her own holiness.

There are nine onions at the bottom of her blue nylon bag—edible amaryllis. Josefina will cook her mother’s fish today, this quantity of onions the secret, the time in the pan and the low, warm flame urging out their sweetness. This will bring her mother to the table. No one will know this, but they will feel it without needing to be told. Paulo, especially. He will remember his vó as the first spoonful offers itself. Her husband left early this morning for the fish, carrying pole and line. This is what his father did too, and hers. They will be present also.

She knows that words cannot pass all this around the table. She knows that not everything can be spoken—words are not big enough bowls to hold it all—especially today, when what will be shared will be between two languages with so many hills and valleys between them, across not just countries, but continents. But her mother also taught her that there were more books than those on printed pages and other ways to read them.

Today, another border will be crossed. And today, they will all be there to welcome her.

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AMANDA AILEEN FISHER — Amanda is a U.S.-born, Mexico-based writer and interdisciplinary artist. Her work explores language as a material of perception and transformation. She is the founder of Abre Tu Boca, a social practice multilingual writing project centered on the power of the voice through the written and spoken word. Her work has reached communities in Mexico, the U.S., Colombia, the Dominican Republic, Austria, and Germany. More at www.amandaaileenfisher.com.

Art by ALI McLAFFERTY — Ali is a high-school history teacher, writer, and artist living in Austin, Texas. She is absolutely thrilled to have both her writing and art featured in Flash Frog. She loves funky antique stores, decorating her classroom like a cozy Victorian parlor, gardening, mushroom-growing, and the occasional dabble in witchcraft.