Chambers Lane Series Collection

2. Lucia Maria-1

Gone was the ornate alter with its multiple statues of Jesus and the Virgin Mary along with the other myriad of unknown saints who were the patron saints of someone or something of the other. There were no longer the candles lit in a row on tall, golden candle holders reminiscent of chalices once utilized during the Roman Empire. The colorful, ceramic seraphim adorned with human faces prostrating both their wings in a similar attempt to cover the alter were also not there. Nor was there any humongous wooden cross with the letters “INRI” emblazoned upon it. Or the intricate stained glass windows consisting of mica, alabaster, shell, and other translucent materials nestled inside lead ferraments in order to depict various religious themes or historical events such as the Via Dolorosa or the Crusades. There were no pictures of the Last Supper or other significant moments of Jesus" life. The scent of lavender, cedar, frankincense, and myrrh wafting from brass censers hung from chains and swung by the priests ever so slightly to incense the alter was also gone. Because she had no longer attended a Catholic mass in over twenty years, Lucia Maria Sheffield no longer witnessed such things when she now attended church. In its place was a simple cross hanging on the wall behind a wooden lectern where her pastor, William Brown, would give his weekly sermons. Just behind the lectern, there were plain wooden chairs with beige, upholstered manchettes and seat cushions. There was also a long wooden table where the circular, aluminum stacking communion trays and bread plates would be placed on a monthly basis for one of the few sacraments that were observed. Her current church did not take communion ever week like her Catholic Church. So these times were more precious and solemn to her. Two rows of similarly upholstered beige chairs filled the northern most part of the chancel in the loft where the choir would sing in simple, antique white polyester choir robes with blue stoles. The church was very plain and not ornate like most traditional churches. However, every April the chancel would be adorned with trumpet-shaped Easter lilies. The pastor would remind the small congregation that these beautiful flowers grew in the Garden of Gethsemane where the Lord frequently prayed at night alone away from his disciples.

At this time of day on a Tuesday, there were no other people at the Pentecostal church where Lucia attended. She came here at this time to purposefully avoid any crowds or any of her friends. If anyone saw her, they would surely wonder why Lucia was there because it was uncharacteristic of her to be at church during the week. Lucia would normally be at one of the many bible studies that she attended at various members" homes. But today, she sat on the last pew in the rear of the church. Her normal spot on Sundays was in the third row. In the third row, she could hear Pastor Brown better and ruminate on his sermons while taking notes. But the rear pew gave Lucia a view of the entire sanctuary. The view helped her focus on her thoughts rather than her emotions. She had been feeling overwhelmed these past few days since Michael"s death. Alone, at her church, gave her some sense of comfort and reassurance that was absent when she was at work or at home. Doubts of why and whether she could endure it entered her mind. These thoughts were like a cyclone destroying everything in its wake including the stoic faith she had all of these decades. She began to ponder her life and the choices that she made. She blamed herself for the outcome. Had she made better choices when she was younger, listened to God sooner or more often rather than her fleshly desires, or if she had not given in to the unceasing loneliness that she felt which clouded her judgment, perhaps this would have never come to pass. Would Michael had even been born in the first place if temptation"s lure wasn"t so inescapable? Maybe not. But her mind did not realize that the different choices that she could have made would have meant different outcomes altogether rather than just different circumstances.

Would she still have had all five of her children? Had she never been forced to marry at the young age of sixteen, then, of course, her first three children would not have been the same. They may have had a different father or may have never been born in the first place. Instead of focusing on that, she instead focused on what it would have meant to her experiences if she had not married Jose Luis Mendoza, Senior. She would not have endured the many beatings from him. He apparently learned this behavior from watching his own father beat his mother. He mimicked that behavior during his own marriage to Lucia when he succumbed to anger. She would have never moved back to New York from Los Angeles with him and the kids to find his long, lost mother who apparently wanted nothing to do with him. Lucia often regretted putting that ad in the newspaper hoping to locate his mother. If she had not placed that ad, then Jose Luis would have never found his mother and would have never wanted to move back to New York. He never would have listened to his mother"s counsel and abandoned Lucia and the kids. Lucia would never get over that abandonment which she carried in every other relationship since.

Why would a mother counsel her nineteen year old son to leave his wife and three young kids when she never really knew them? Lucia could only imagine that it was because the mother wanted him all to herself. She had not seen her son since he was five years old. Perhaps the guilt of abandoning her son drew her, at that moment now that they were finally reunited, to smother him, rather than accept that he was now an adult with his own family. His longing to please his mother also clouded his judgment. So Jose Luis decided that he no longer wanted to be married and the very next morning told Lucia that. Lucia took the three kids in a cab and traveled to her brother"s house in Brooklyn. She stayed there until she had enough money to travel cross country again. Once in California, she rented a converted garage in downtown Los Angeles. All four of them stayed in that small, dank room.

Lucia could honestly say that she never really loved Jose Luis. How could she? She never had the chance to fall in love with him before the beatings started. She never knew why he asked Lucia"s mother for her hand in marriage. They were both sixteen. They meet each other once or twice while at high school and never really went on a date together before they were married. Lucia"s mother was fed up raising her own kids. When she was in her mid-forties, Lucia"s mother wanted to marry her children all off so that she could be single and unattached again and spend the time with her lover, Antonio. The oldest daughter, Isabel, ran off with her black boyfriend after she learned that she was pregnant. Her mother insisted that Isabel get an abortion and marry someone else other than an African-American. The middle daughter, Belén, was married off to a divorcee who supposedly had no children from his first marriage. Lucia thought she could escape this nonsense of getting married off because she was the youngest. At sixteen, Lucia still had aspirations of graduating from high school and attending college. She dreamt of having her own career, perhaps as a journalist or even a botanist. She longed for something that would take her away from her squalid life with her mother and the rest of her siblings. All of that came to an end with the knock at the door from Jose Luis that evening when he asked to marry her. Somehow he had found out that Lucia"s mother was trying to get rid of her children. On his own, Jose Luis thought that marriage to Lucia would solve his own problems. Later that week, Lucia"s mother gave her consent to the magistrate. The two were married at a simple civil wedding. It was nothing like the grand wedding in a Catholic church that Lucia had always dreamed of since she was a young child.

Had she never married Jose Luis, then she never would have had three children when she met Marcelo Robles, Sylvia"s father. Marcelo was younger and was from South America. He could speak perfect English albeit with an accent that she thought was sexy. His curly hair, dark brown eyes, slender lips, and boisterous laughter wooed Lucia with little effort. He was introduced to Lucia by her older sister, Belén, who also worked at the same warehouse as Marcelo. It did not matter to Lucia that Marcelo worked the graveyard shift on Friday and Saturday nights. The money he earned at the warehouse allowed him to make up for the lonely nights. He would shower Lucia with gifts, take her and the kids out to the movies or to McArthur Park, and then for a bite to eat at an A&W restaurant. Sure, Marcelo had a baby blue MGB that only seated two. He drove the MG on occasion instead of his classic Chevy Bel Air with its long rear fins that appear to jet into the sunset. Even though the MG was impractical for Lucia and her three kids, the sports car that Marcelo drove on the weekends only added to his allure. She fell in love with him like when teenagers succumb to puppy love in high school for the first time, even though she was twenty-six years old at the time.

But after Lucia became pregnant with Sylvia, Marcelo changed. He decided that he did not want to marry a woman who already had three kids with all the accompanying issues that such a relationship entailed. He wanted to start his own family rather than inherit one. Although in later years when he was in his fifties, Marcelo claimed to have truly loved Lucia at the time. But he could not escape the thought of having his own family. He secretly began an affair with a single Hispanic woman at his job who had no kids. He would secretly meet with her on his days off, all the while telling Lucia that he was working. Once Sylvia was born, Marcelo would take Sylvia to spend some time alone with her. But in reality, Marcelo would spend the day with Sylvia and his girlfriend. Lucia learned of the affair after Daniel saw Marcelo driving in the MG with Sylia and his girlfriend when they drove passed Ramona Elementary School where Daniel attended. Lucia was devastated. She often wondered why Marcelo never proposed or never seemed too excited about having a baby with her. Their relationship drastically changed after Sylvia"s birth. Marcelo seemed so distant. Their relationship never recovered. Marcelo married his girlfriend a few years later. However, she could actually never get pregnant. They ended up divorced and childless decades later.

These thoughts swirled around as Lucia bowed her head. She silently prayed to herself at the back of the church. A few tears streaked from her eyes. She used all of her inner fortitude to hold them back. She feared that she would ultimately allow herself to drown her sorrows in a plaintive wail that would arouse even greater concerns in such a public place. A part of her hoped someone would walk in and comfort her. She knew that the possibility was slim. She waited for someone. She thought maybe her pastor or someone from the church staff would walk by. But no one came. After awhile, she opened her purse and removed her small, worn bible that she brought everywhere with her. She thumbed through her bible until she reached the familiar book of Isaiah. She began reading to herself: