LA LOQUITA DEL ZIG-ZAG: THE STONE BED (ENGLISH TRANSLATION)
BY NININA MAMEYEZ
Thum, thum, thum, thum. “What’s that?” I’m thinking to myself. Entering the library, I find Papi playing his record player. He has many records from Our Country and from Our Other Countries. He loves the guitar. The thum, thum is coming from the guitars.
“AY, Papi, you’re playing your guitars!”
“Yes, little one. Listen to Mister Mariachi. He’s singing: ‘Guitars, o please cry, guitars.’”
“WHAT? Guitars can’t cry, Papi!”
“Yes, little daughter. Guitars cry. Listen to this other song: ‘The bed is made out of stone/and so is the headboard…’”
I begin to rock back and forth: I like it. But I think; I say, “WHAT? A Stone Bed? And guitars that cry?”
“It has to do, Ninina, with how much I love you and your Mami.”
“OH. And I love you and Mami. And I want to have a Stone Bed.”
Papi thinks about it; sighs. “How about a crying guitar, instead?”
“NO, Papi, I want a Stone Bed!”
“Well, ask Santa Claus for one, all right?”
“All right.”
Santa Claus arrives; he brings me a beautiful doll. “AY, what a beautiful doll,” says The Pretty One.
Umm…Umm…Umm…”Where is the Stone Bed? WHERE IS THE STONE BED?” Running to my room, I throw myself face down on my bed. I begin to sob; to cry and cry. I cry like Mister Mariachi. I cry even more than the guitars. The only one who can make me feel better is my Pink Chicken.
The first day of the New Year, everyone in the house is running here and there.
“What’s happening, Papi?”
“Mister Whip left his palace last night, little one. And now Colonel Beardful is in power.”
“The friend of Lieutenant Cries Before He Knows?”
Papi sighs, “Yes. But—smiling a little bit—The Three Kings will be here in several days, right?”
“All right, Papi. All right.” Giving him a little kiss, I go out to play on my slide.
The next day, Papi goes out alone in his Oldsmobile, without The Man Who Drives Him Around. He returns home, smiling more and more.
The day of The Three Kings, I enter the library. I see a HUGE present, with a beautiful bow.
“Open it, little one. It’s for you.”
Tearing apart the paper and the bow, I find a small record player. And on top of the record player is…THE STONE BED! Running to Papi, I hug him hard and give him a huge kiss. “THANK YOU, Papi. THANK YOU!”
Thum, thum, thum, thum. “The bed is made out of stone…” sings Mister Mariachi.
“And so is the headboard…” I sing. I begin to rock back and forth: I like it. I still don’t know why it’s a Stone Bed. And I still don’t know why the guitars cry.
Wednesday, December 31, 2008
50 years after Colonel Beardful (Castro) took over from Mister Whip (Batista).
68 years since Efrain and Ana Marrero married in Lyon, France at the mairie there.
Very hard to translate, but I think I got the message across. Senor Mariachi, by the way, is the incomparable Cuco Sanchez. According to both my parents, “La Cama de Piedra” (The Stone Bed) was my favorite childhood song.
For Papi, Mami, and Jesus (Chuchu) Yanez Pelletier.
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