The Sun Will Rise Again

Marisol stared down at her dress embroidered with red and yellow flowers, and watched as a single tear dropped down off her face making the yellow flower have an orange spot momentarily. It was so hot most of her tears dried up before they could roll off her chin. Dresses in every color with similar flower designs were scattered about laying on the bed, hanging on the walls or draped over the only other chair in the room on display for any visitors to see. The woman who owned the room told Marisol it was to show people all her mother’s work and what her mother enjoyed to do, but earlier that day she overheard her trying to sell a few of the dresses to some people that were passing by. Marisol didn’t look up when she heard a few of her mother’s friends step into the small room that she and her mother used to share. Dirt on the floor kicked up as they moved. She had swept the floor three times, but the dirt kept coming in from the visitor’s feet. She remembered her mother telling her almost every day “Kick the desert out of your shoes before you come in!”. One day her mother scooped up handfuls of dirt and placed it in her shoe before she came into the room and slowly poured it out making it seem like the desert was in her shoe to make her laugh. She squeezed her eyes shut and she didn’t think she would ever laugh again. The three elderly women touched their foreheads, chest and shoulders and kissed their rosaries. They looked at Marisol solemnly and placed their hands on her and murmured prayers. They touched her mother’s coffin and prayed some more. Marisol wished that one of them would take her in, she knew that it was impossible though. Most of them were already struggling with their own families with not enough room for her. She didn’t look up as they left. Another tear rolled down spotting the red flower this time.

The landlady came in and looked around and spread out more of the dresses. She huffed and put her hands on her hips, she wasn’t able to sell one yet and it was getting late in the day, this was her only way to get her rent money for this week. She looked at the little girl and bent down to see her face and stroked Marisol’s braided hair.

“I have some food, will you eat?” Marisol shook her head, still not looking up.

“You should eat before your uncle picks you up. It’s a long way to Moscota.”

The woman stroked her hair again then left the room.

Marisol started to think when the last time she saw her Uncle and his family. Will she even know what he looks like when he arrives? He was never really friendly with her, and he didn’t like where her and her mother lived. Her mother refused to leave the town in case Marisol’s father came back. He left for work in America and they have not heard anything from him since.

She looked around the room and stared at her mother’s coffin. She wished that her mother was here with her. She missed her mother humming while she brushed her hair, the feel of her warm body in the bed that they shared. She missed seeing her mother hunched over a dress closely stitching each hem when she came home from school, having to peck her cheek because she had pins in her mouth. She even missed these last days with her, she had tried so hard to take care of her but it was never enough. Every night she prayed for her mother to feel better, her mother was sick for a long time but she never let Marisol know how sick she actually was. Marisol wished that stayed home from school the day that she died. She wished she was here with her to hold her hand and brush her hair. She wished that she didn’t go the long way home to pick her mother’s favorite flowers, Marigold's, that grew on the outside of town near the hills. Flower’s her mother never got to see. She looked around the room and the flower’s were still there, wilting in the clay vase she made for her mother on her birthday.

It was all too much for Marisol. The room seemed to shrink and she needed to get out. She stepped outside in the street.

“Marisol?” the landlady called as she saw her step out. “Are you hungry?”

Marisol didn’t turn around and started walking towards the hills. She wanted to give her mother flowers one last time, the best ones she could find.

She reached the edge of town and stopped. The sun was starting to come down, the hills were blanketed in a warm golden light. She knew she would have to come back in the dark. She was scared of the dark. Her mom used to hold onto her tight and let her know that the sun will rise again in the morning. But now she was more scared of what laid before her, she didn’t want to leave with her Uncle to live in a town she didn’t know. She didn’t want to leave her school and her friends. She didn’t want to leave her mom. She started to sob again.

Somebody came and stood next to her and it startled her, because she didn’t hear their footsteps on the gravel. Marisol wiped her eyes to see who it was, and there standing next to her was another little girl wearing a dress similar to hers with red and yellow flowers embroidered on the bottom.

The little girl stared at Marisol “Why are you crying?”

Marisol wiped her face again. “I’m scared.” she let out a sniffle and she wiped her nose with the back of her hand.

The little girl looked out to the hills. “What are you scared of?”

Marisol didn’t answer her. The little girl grabbed her hand and waited, staring at her. The sun was dropping slowly, and the yellow Merigold’s were illuminated.

The little girl pointed at them “Those are my favorite. I like to have them with me when I’m scared of the dark. It reminds me that the sun will come back in the morning.” She pulled Marisol's hand “Let’s get some before my brother comes.” She led her to the patch of flowers.

Marisol picked up a few of the prettiest ones she could find.

The little girl picked a few then started humming and put them in Marisol’s hair. They both smiled at each other. The sun was falling behind the hills, the little girl looked back at the town. “I have to go now. They are calling for me.”

Marisol couldn’t hear anything but looked back too, she didn’t want to go back yet.

“Walk back with me?” the little girl asked and Marisol nodded. They grabbed each other's hand again.

“What is your name?” she asked.

“Marisol.”

The little girl smiled “I love that name. It means Maria and the Sun.”

Marisol looked at her, she didn’t know her from school and was curious. “My mother’s name is Maria. What is your name?”

The little girl just smiled, maybe she didn’t hear her. They continued walking and the little girl was humming.

Before Marisol realized they were already back and the landlady was waving and coming at her. She turned towards the little girl to ask her where she lived but she was gone. Marisol looked down at her hand, it still felt like it was being held.

The landlady was calling to her and she looked relieved. And there behind her was her Uncle with his wife waiting for her.

She reached them and her Aunt pulled her in with a great big hug. Her Uncle looked the same in the picture her mother had of him, they had the same warm smile.

She got used to her new life with her Uncle and Aunt, she helped out on the farm they lived on and liked to take care of the baby goats. She even liked her new school, and it was nice to have cousins to play with. She planted Marigolds at the hill where her mother was buried and when they bloomed in the summer Marisol was remembered holding hands and picking flowers on the last night with her mother.