As a child Joy Garcia enjoyed mornings with her father Cristobal. In Puerto Rico he often took her out in his boat. Enjoy the sunrise, where the world was asleep. Where the animals roamed free and the gods sighed in relief. The early morning was a time for reflection. And reflect the young duo did. At 26 Cristobal didn’t have a lot to teach his one year old. He only knew enough to survive up to that point, but what he knew he told. 

“Escuche bien nena, the world will try to knock you down. Pero as long as you have me, you are safe.”

He would never admit it, but Cristobal wept the morning he told his child that. With her little body tight to his chest he wept in thanks to god, in fear of the world, and in the strength of a father. Because he saw love in those little eyes, unadulterated, complete and genuine love. How could you love someone so much that you barely know? 

When Joy was two, she couldn’t sit still. She was up at ungodly hours, running around, rummaging through everything and anything. Cristobal would oftentimes find himself awake, rushing to his little one. She was never in any danger, always just sitting on the floor with one of his oars, sinking it in imaginary water and moving her make believe boat around. 

This little girl was the love of his life, how anyone could give her up he had no idea. But as he picked her up, and they traveled to his actual boat he knew he’d love her till he died. 

“Nena, you see that?” He pointed to the skyline. Little joy nodded. “The world can be unfair. It’s big but you can feel lonely. But as long as the sun comes up every day, you have a chance to live another day. You don’t waste it mijita.” 

Every day and every year Cristobal learned something new to impart on his baby. And at 12 years old his heart broke for the first time. “Why don’t I look like you?” She asked. “Why don’t I look like anyone?” She screamed. 

For the first time in his life, Cristobal knew he’d have to break his babies heart. They gave you away. They couldn’t afford you. I don’t know. What could he say? He sat her down while she cried in her mother’s arms and did his best to explain. 

“No me importa que color tu eres. What color you are means little to me nena. What the shape of your eyes means nothing to me. What color hair you have has never crossed my mind. Because you are my baby. To me you bleed red. Como tu mama. Tu papa. Tu abuelo y abuelita. To us. You are everything. So what if you don’t look like us. Who cares? You. Joy Maribel Ruiz Garcia, are one of us. You are family. You did not come out of your mother. But you came from god. And he gave you to us. And with us nena. You belong. Entiende?” 

Joy would never ask again why she did look like anyone. It didn’t matter. She spoke like them. She dressed like them. She laughed like them and she bled like them. She felt like them, because she was one of them. So why ask questions? 

The move to the Bronx was hard for Cristobal to make. But the cost of living in Puerto Rico was too much for the wage he was making for selling goods on the street. Joy hated it at first. But when she landed in the airport she noticed something amazing. There were people that looked like her. Some lighter. Some darker. Some she thought were like her and her father was quick to explain that no baby, they’re Mexican. A mistake she would make till this day. School for the first time was awesome for Joy. She met Katy Kim Yerim.  She was loud. She was short and feisty and Joy loved everything about her. All Katy did was just be loud and happy. She was Korean, but was born and raised in Long Island New York. Which meant when she said coffee she actually said. Caawfee. When she said hey it sounded more like, ayyyyyyeeee. She cursed like a sailor and knew nothing about being Korean except that when her grandparents visited she had to bend down so low her lower back hurt all day. 

Joy was thankful to be Puerto Rican. 

Katy and Joy would remain friends, they would graduate high school together. And go into EMS training together too. and when Katy’s father would fall ill due to prostate cancer, Joy would hold her all through the night in the very hospital they were interning at. Cristobal would warn Joy about her lack of sleep, but he would also be the one to make her breakfast in the morning. Always fighting for his daughter. 

When Joy suffered from an allergic reaction that no one knew she had. He had run from work. Closing it down in minutes and running to his baby. When he saw his child, he knew he’d need to be strong for his wife. And for the little girl he saw grow alongside his daughter. A peanut allergy they said. Had Joy really gone 24 years without eating peanuts? 

Katy seemed so torn. So broken. But she had a father that came first and Cristobal knew that. There was a reason he was Joy’s father, because no one could love his daughter like he could. Unconditional. Wholeheartedly. 

On his second night with Joy a young woman came in. All nerves and frayed edges. Wendy her name was. The dispatcher she said. She looked at Joy like Joy had all the answers to life’s hardest questions. Like Joy held all the stars in her eyes. And for the first time Cristobal thought, he might’ve just met someone who would love his daughter like him. 

Unconditionally. Wholeheartedly. Completely. 

Wendy shon. Treat her right, he thought. 

————————

I turned over, groaning at the loud music playing outside. At the laughter in the hall. I opened my eyes, and there she was. 

I could get used to this. Wendy is a cute sleeper. She looks like a shrimp. Curled up and red from sleeping under the comforter. I pulled back her bangs, kissing her forehead. “Descansa Mí amor”. 

I walked outside. Mateo was jumping from couch to couch singing sponge-bob. My mother was dancing in the kitchen. “Hola mama”.

“Ay Mí nena. How are you? You sleep well?” I nodded, kissing my mother on the cheek and looking at what she was cooking. 

“I slept great ma. How did you sleep?”

“With a bear next to me”, I grinned. I’m gonna go check on Wendy. 

I really meant to go do that. But I find instead, Wendy, , changing. Oh. Jesus Cristo, I whip around. My face is so hot I could fry an egg good lord. Jesus save me. 

———————-

“So how’d it go with Wendy and your family?” I sigh, looking at Yeri as she drives the rig. 

“Remember how when you came over for the first time my cousins hit on your for like 8 hours?” 

“Yep, remember when your cousin Ezra came in with dos X’s light and your mom beat him with a wire hanger?” 

“Oh . I forgot all about that. Anyway. They weren’t like that with her. They were calmer”.

“Cause your family is racist”. 

“My girlfriend is Korean like you ”. 

Katy threw her head back, “ohhh. So they’re nice to her cause shes the one that saved you. And they’re mean to me because I don’t wanna bang them?”

“Girl it is not the time to be hurt. I’m trying to vent to you woman. So. Puttting aside my family”.

“Wait. Wait. Did she meet your family and aunts or just the cousins.”

“Just mom. Jaime. Joshua. And Junito.” 

“Ah. So she had it easy.”

“My mom beat someone with a hanger the day you met her and you think she’s the easiest?”

“She ain’t beat me with the hanger.” Shame. I rolled my eyes. And leaned back, momentarily listening to the chatter on the radio. 

“So. This morning. I went to wake Wendy up. And when I opened the door she was .”

The rig was silent. Did I say too much? “Yo. DID YAH BANG?!”

“What! No stop! No we didn’t bang. We waiting you know.”

“Waiting for what? Your coochie to dry out?” 

“You are disgusting you know that?”

Katy snickered, turning onto a street we frequent. “So tell me what happened after you saw her .”

“I panicked. And ran. I went to my mom, sat on the corner and pretended to have been their the whole time. When Wendy came out she looked so pretty”.

“If she looked pretty, why didn’t you smash? I’m seeing some inconsistencies Joy.”

“I don’t know man. What if she doesn’t want to have ? I live with my mom!” 

“You’re Puerto Rican. All of you go from womb. To moms room. To your own room. To boom married. There is no in between, besides. You can live all your teenage fantasies and have with your parents down the hall, and play the ‘is it the house, or is mom coming down the hall?’

“I just don’t want to rush anything. I really like her.” Just before saying anything else, dispatch came through the speakers. 

“Dispatch to all available units, there was a car vs building on the corner of east 156 and forest ave”. I looked over to Katy. 

“We’re close. We got this. Ems 4, we’ll take the collision.” 

“Why don’t people pay attention? You live in New York man. There are buildings everywhere. Pay attention!” I nodded, preparing myself for what might be a really bad accident. 

We pulled up on scene, right away. We noticed some things weren’t right. 1. There was a banana car overturned. 2. The ‘building’ was a hotdog Stand. 3. My girlfriend and her friends were on scene. 4. The falafel guy looks pissed. 

Wendy hadn’t noticed me yet as an officer came over, “what’s up Garcia.”

“Not much Manoban. So uh, what happened here?”

“Well these three, were driving down 156, and the tall one with the real narrow eyes. She turned, over turned. None of these es thought to stop peddling and flew into the hotdog stand. Real shame too. I ing adore that stand.” I ignored officer manoban’s description of Seulgi and nodded at the information. 

I made my way over to trio. And smiled at Wendy as her whole face turned beet red and she whipped away from me. “Mí amor, surprise seeing you out here”. I leaned down to kiss her, heat radiating off her face. 

“Listen I need you to both stop face and look at my Seulbear. She’s bleeding out!” Katy snickered, as Seulgi huffed. 

“Babe, stop. You’re causing a scene.”

“No seulbear look at your poor head!!” 

Yeri rolled her eyes and walked up to Seulgi. “Alright seulbear, why don’t we sit you down and check on this head of yours huh?” I turned back to Wendy, smiling. 

“Wendy shon, my little drunk driver. How you feeling?” 

“I wasn’t drinking! And it’s not a car. It’s a banana with wheel Joy.” I sat her down, nodding. 

“Mhm, that’s what they all say. How’s your head feel?” 

Wendy shrugged, “I don’t know. Like I hit it on Irene’s bony friggin shoulder.”

“That evil shoulder”, I cupped her head. Pushing at parts on her head, “does that hurt?” She shook her head. “This?” She shook her head again. “Can you follow my finger?”

As I was moving my finger along, I could hear Irene yelling about her ‘little seulbear’. 

“You’re hurting her!”

“No I’m not, I’m cleaning her wound.”

“Yes! And it’s hurting her! Look at her face!”

“I’m not hurting her. You’re hurting her.  Actually! I think driving into and then flipping over a ing food truck might’ve hurt her face ma’am.”

I bit my lip trying not to laugh, “I’ve never heard anyone challenge Irene before”. Wendy whispered scared. 

“Katy Kim Yerim is a beast my love. We’re having a barbecue this weekend. If you’re not working. You and your friends should come over”. 

“Really?” I nodded. 

Hopefully having Katy around doesn’t throw off the good vibes Wendy sends to my family. I thought this, as Irene shoved Katy over yelling about tax payers money and her seulbear. 

————///————-////———

Translations

Escuche bien: listen well

nena: term of endearment/ sweety. Baby. 

Pero: but

No me importa que color tu eres: it doesn’t matter to me what color you are. 

mijita: daughter 

Como tu mama: like your mom. 

papa: dad

abuelo y abuelita: grandfather/ grandmother

 Entiende: understand 

Descansa Mí amor: rest my love