So Hard To Say

Chapter 1: Xio My name is (drum roll, please) Maria Xiomara Iris Juarez Hidalgo, but nobody calls me Maria. For short, I just go by Xio -- pronounced C.O. It rhymes with Leo, my sign. Like most Leos, my best quality is my unfailing loyalty. I'm utterly devoted to my friends....and of course, to me.Just kidding. Well, maybe it's a little true. Madonna is a Leo. (Yes!) So was Napoleon. We love to conquer and take charge, plus we're generous, fun, openhearted and love to speak our minds. On the downside, we love to speak our minds. Sometimes it gets me into deep, deep caca. Then if I tell Mami about it, she laughs and says I need to learn to keep my mouth shut. "But that's totally impossible," I tell her. "When I've got something to say, I have to say it."My other faults: I can be pretty lazy when it comes to housework. Like on weekends? My all-time favorite thing is to laze in bed, talking on the phone with friends -- hopping from one call to the next. I think Call Waiting is the best invention ever. But then Mami comes in and makes me get off the phone to do chores. "You need to learn the world doesn't revolve around you," she says, which makes no sense."If the world doesn't revolve around me," I argue, "then why do I have to get out of bed?" Mami shakes her head and rolls her eyes heavenward, asking God for paciencia."Okay..." Climbing from bed, I give her a big hug. Sometimes I wonder how Mami handles being a single mom. I know I can be pretty high maintenance. But Mami's strong, in a quiet way. I don't know if I could ever be that strong....or that quiet. Both Mami and Papi are from Mexico, but they met here in California. I remember when I was little Papi used to stand me on his shoes and dance me around the living room as mariachi trumpets blared on the radio. Mami would wave her arms, warning him to be careful. Then he'd reach out for her too, all of us dancing together with me tucked between them. When I was seven, my little brother -- Esteban Jesus Francisco (Stevie for short) -- was born. He's a pain in the butt, always getting into my stuff (a typical curious Aquarius), but I love him. He looks a lot like Papi, with lighter skin than mine. I look more like Mami. We're both morenas -- with skin that's golden colored. But I'm more chata than Mami. That means I have a flat, catlike nose -- which I hate. My best feature is my hair -- thick and black. Mami calls it my mane. I was seven when Mami and Papi broke up. It came gradually, not with yelling or fights, but with a lot of rumblings and low voices. I remember putting my ear to their bedroom door, trying to figure out what was going on and wondering, Was it because of something I'd done?I've asked Mami a million times why Papi left. Was he in love with another woman? Didn't he love us anymore? But the only thing she says is, "Your papi and I had differences." "Like, what's that supposed to mean?" Mami sighs. "It means that sometimes, no matter how much two people love each other, they just aren't meant to be together. When you're older you'll understand." I hate it when she says things like that. Papi moved north to San Francisco. At first he'd phone me every day. I'd run home after school to hear his voice. But slowly his calls became once a week. Then one time a month. Then only Christmas and my birthday. I begged to visit him but he wouldn't let me. Instead he visited us once a year, but last year he didn't even do that.When I turned thirteen last August I didn't go out of the house, hoping he'd call. As usual, Mami threw a party for me and all my friends came. Every time the phone rang I jumped for it, certain it would be Papi. But it wasn't.That night after everybody left, I went to my room and stared at my nightstand's Little Mermaid lamp. Mami says Papi got it for me on my second birthday.Across the shade swim tropicaSanchez, Alex is the author of 'So Hard To Say', published 2004 under ISBN 9780689865640 and ISBN 0689865643.