Elisa, on the other hand, was like a fireball. She always knew where the fun was （it usually involved an activity that was forbidden to us kids） like climbing on rooftops blindfolded （it was a test of trust, she would say, as you were supposed to let the other person guide you when you were on top）， jumping off the highest branch of a tree （and not crying, even if you had a painful landing with scrapes and blood）， or standing on the back of a horse while he strolled. The one time Alberto had joined us, Elisa had insisted we play the hold your breath under the water game, but there was a twist. She was the one who decided how long my brother’s head would remain inside the pond. She held him down for almost a minute, even though he was flapping his arms and kicking the ground. When she finally let him go, he cursed her （“？Maldita!”）。 I’d never heard him say the Forbidden Word before, my mother would’ve been aghast if she knew. Alberto had darted off swearing that he would never play with her （or me） again. In response, Elisa had laughed and called him a baby.
The other thing that was fascinating about Elisa was that nobody knew where she lived or how she’d arrived at the hacienda. One day, she was just sitting there on a rock by the pond and no explanations were given. When I asked her who her parents were or where her house was, she pointed at the sky and said she lived on one of the clouds.
“Which one? That one?” I said pointing at the fattest one.
“No! The one behind it!”
“The grayish one with the shape of a pear?”
“No, silly! The one next to it.”
“Oh,” I said, though I couldn’t be exactly sure of which one she meant—they were all moving. “Are you an angel then?” I asked, but honestly, I doubted it—she seemed a little too dirty to be one, but I had to ask.
Her sole answer was a smirk.
She kept coming every other day, and our games became bolder. When my mother saw us hanging from the railing of a bridge, she yelled until her ears turned red. She forbade me from ever speaking to that ni?ita machona again. After the mother incident, Elisa disappeared for over a month, which is why I couldn’t say no to her when she offered to bring me a gift. Besides, who rejects a gift?
Lying under my sateen sheets, I heard the tap on the window.
The moon was bright and full behind Elisa. She was carrying a package wrapped in newspaper. I was so excited I could barely unlock the window.
When she stepped in, she studied my room as though it were a museum. She walked in circles, exploring every one of my possessions. Once she’d concluded her inspection, she handed the package to me.
“Here.”
I unwrapped it with trembling hands. Virgencita del Cisne, it was a doll! A dancer! But the strangest one I’d ever seen. From the waist up, she was a regular girl, but her bottom was made out of a round pillow covered with a red skirt. She was beautiful, even if her face was soiled and she was half-bald, which told me that this doll had been played with, unlike my sister’s.
“She’s so pretty,” I said. “Are you sure you don’t want it?”
“It’s yours.” She’d found my book of prayers and was sifting through it. “With one condition.”
“Whatever you want!”
A knock on the door startled us. “Who’s in there, Catalina? Who are you talking to?”
“Nobody, Mamita.”
“Don’t lie to me! I heard another voice. Is it that girl?” She banged the door. “Open!”
If my mother saw Elisa she would take the doll from me and I so wanted to keep it.
“No! It’s not her!”
As my mother twisted the door open, Elisa dashed toward the window and hid behind the curtain.
My mother was carrying a candle in one hand and her rosary in the other. She paced the room, examining every corner. It was a miracle that she didn’t see Elisa behind the flowing curtain. It was an especially bright night. The moon was so wide outside my window I might be able to touch it.
“Where is she?” my mother said.
“Who?”
“I heard a voice!”
“I was talking to myself!”
“Don’t take me for a fool, Catalina, I clearly heard two female voices.”
I didn’t know if it was the rosary in her hand, my prayers to the Virgin, or the bright light outside my window, but before I knew it, I came up with the perfect answer.
“It was the Virgin Mary.”
I thought my mother would start laughing, but she didn’t. “Are you lying to me, Catalina?”