Vidal Sasson

[Ruggahissy]

Mexico City, 1999

The sun of the Mexican summer scortched even the white marble of the outside patio where a little girl sat. Rebeca squinted, trying with difficulty to draw on a white pad that was a reflection of the burning sun. She sucked on the end of the pencil for a moment, before drawing the curve of a woman's hip. A sound from her left startled her and slowly she shifted her sight to another little girl leaning in the frame of the doorway. A dry wind lifted the white linen curtain behind the second girl, looking down at Rebeca.

"Juega conmigo"

<Play with me>


Rebeca did not move. She swallowed and put the tip of her pencil to the pad, not looking away.


"Dije, juega conmigo. Estas duro de oído ?"

<I said, play with me. Are you deaf?>

<I'm busy, Mara,> she said.

A chime somwhere on the patio provided the only noise, the small tinkle filling in the silence. From else where in the house, a door opened and voices were heard. Mara's mouth pulled into a slight frown and her eyes slid in the direction of the noise. Rebeca disregarded the noise altogether and cautiously went back to her pad, glancing over every few seconds at her sister.

Mara went back inside and flopped down on an arm chair, one leg hanging over the arm and watched as the older woman and little girl around her age came in. Her mother briefly chatted with the mother while the little girl kept by her side, respectfully. She was one of the house cleaners and she always brought her daughter with her. Mara tracked the group closely with her eyes. She saw her mother smile and touch the little girl's hair. The girl had beautiful hair. It was long, down to her waist and jet black. Her family was obviously not very wealthy, but that girl's hair was pristine. It glossed and shined and seemed so dark it was almost blue. Whenever she was around, that girl was always praised for her lovely hair. Today it was in a long braid with white ribbons. Mara slowly got up and walked to the kitchen.

<Oh hello Mara. Where's Rebeca?>

Mara shruged.

<Here. You and Lupe can play.>

The mothers left the girls in the kitchen.

Lupe was talking to her about something, but Mara wasn't really listening. She was fixated. It wasn't fair. Why should she have such pretty hair? Why should she have the attention? It was a waste on her. She was probably going to end up a factory worker's wife. What good would having that hair do her then? None. The thought irritated her.

<Hey, you know what would be fun? I could give you a hair trim!>

Lupe looked at her braid a moment and nodded.

<Sure! Trims are good for it,> she said smiling back.

Mara took a pair of kitchen siccors off the counter.



Lupe's mother had fogotten something in the kitchen. The moment she stepped back into the room, she screamed. There were two little girls in the kitchen and one was holding a long, shiny, jet black braid in her hands.