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Prologue Johanna Rios dug her feet into the dirt at the riverbank. “No!” she yelled, pulling against her mother’s hold on her wrist. “Don’t, Mama!” Carmen, Jo’s seven year old sister sobbed, giant tears spilling down her sunburned cheeks. Jo squinted her eyes against the blinding sun, tried to get away. Mama’s really lost her mind this time! Jo struggled to break free again, but Mama jerked her forward until she was ankle-deep in water. “I told you this day would come,” she said to Jo over Carmen’s high-pitched screams. “It’ll be over soon…” “Mama--" Her heart felt like it was in her throat, all tangled and tight. She thought her eyeballs might pop out of her head any second. “P-please don’t,” she finally managed. “I’ll be better. I’ll t-take care of C-Carmen--" “You can’t be her mother…” Mama turned her head and glared, her eyes wide and wild, like Bette Davis in one of those old movies Jo liked to watch late at night when everyone was asleep. “Can you, Joey?” Mama spit out the nickname she’d given her. “Johanna. Terrible name. He named you that, then left me alone. I should have gotten rid of you back then. It would have been easier.” Jo felt her knees go weak. “It’s your fault he left!” She yelled over the pounding in her ears, clawing at her mother’s fingers around her wrist, trying to pry them loose. Jo was eleven, old enough to know that her mother was too crazy to ever have a man stick around. But she tried to convince her anyway. “Maybe one would stay if you were nice.” Mama twisted her hand and yanked Jo down until she was on her knees. “It’s the curse,” Mama hissed. “She promised me. One of them will come back when you’re both gone.” Jo bit her lip and grimaced at the pain slicing up her arm. The curse of Llorona. She’d heard Mama talk about it her whole life, about how they’d all descended from the crying woman. “Nobody wants you. You’re crazy!” Mama’s eyes bulged under her tangled mass of black hair. Her mouth was twisted with rage and her eyes were black and hideous. No wonder all the men she brought home left. “Once you’re gone--" Mama started-- “she’ll let a man come back to me.” Jo dug her heels into the sludge, willing Carmen to stop crying and help her. Together they might have enough strength to fight Mama, calm her down. “Mama, p-please. Don’t.” But Mama yanked her forward, dragging Carmen along beside her. “No mas, Joey. No te quiero.” She jerked her left arm, pulling Carmen off her feet. “Stop crying!” Carmen clamped her mouth shut, her cries turning to whimpers. Her chest heaved and her lower lip quivered. “Don’t yell at her.” Jo tried harder to pry her mother’s fingers off her. She had to get free, had to help her sister. The roar of rushing water in the San Julio River filled her ears. Oh God, she was going to barf. She sucked in a shaky breath and fought with all her might, kicking her feet against the ground, splashing the shallow water until the hem of Mama’s old and torn gauzy white embroidered dress was drenched. She clawed, finally managing to pry Mama’s fingers from her wrist, breaking free, stumbling back. She was free! But Mama plowed into the river, her black hair flying out behind her, her white dress floating up around her like an umbrella. She dragged Carmen in her wake. “No!” Jo sprinted into the river, scrambling, and then falling. She picked herself up and barreled into the river until she was waist deep. She’d never learned to swim well. How could she go any further? But she gulped, trying to bury her fear. You can do it. You have to do it. She screwed up her face, breathed in through her nose, and plunged deeper into the river, her faded floral dress dragging through the water. The cold hit her with a fierce burning, worse than jumping into a barrel of smoking coals. “Carmen!” she shrieked, plowing through the water, forcing her arms to stroke, to keep her head up and her feet grounded. Mama spun around, pulling Carmen with her, the water rippling out around her. “La Llorona,” she said, her voice low and filled with a wrath like Jo had never heard before. “She cursed you, too.” Jo stopped, her dress bubbling around her waist. She braced her scraped up feet against the rocky bottom of the river, paddling her arms to keep herself stable. “Wh-what?” Mama’s eyes glazed. “La Llorona,” she rasped, then raised her arm and pointed at Jo. “She’s in your blood. In both of you.” Jo’s stomach felt heavy, like she’d swallowed mouthfuls of river water, her whole head pounding now, half afraid she’d see the five hundred year old ghost bearing down on her if she turned around. But there was only water and the central Texas woods filled with scraggly trees. She looked back, saw her mother pulling Carmen deeper into the river, her sister’s head bobbing up and down, gasping for breath. Jo’s heart thrummed in her throat as she sucked in her courage and lunged for Carmen’s foot. She stretched her arm forward as far as she could and just managed to grab one of her sister’s ankles. “Help me, Carmen,” she panted. “Come on. Fight!” Mama turned to look at Jo, her teeth clenched beneath her tight lips. “Let go, Joey.” But Jo held tight. Mama’s face turned red. She jerked suddenly, and Carmen’s body twisted until she was face down in the water. The back of Carmen’s head bobbed up and down like an apple in a barrel. “She can’t breathe!” Jo cried. “Let go,” Mama said again. Her voice had become eerily calm, a small smile ticking up the corners of her mouth. “I’ll take care of her, m’ija.” Mama pulled and Jo’s hand slipped. She struggled to stay afloat. “Come back!” Jo screamed as Mama drifted further out of reach. She tried to swim again, her feet kicking frantically behind her as she fought against the current. Then, Mama suddenly stopped and turned. Carmen managed to lift her head out of the water and take a ragged breath. Mama stared in a trance at something in the distance. “La Llorona,” she whispered hoarsely. She let Carmen go and reached her arms toward the slope of land. The water swept Carmen downriver. Jo plunged after her sister, snatching her leg again, pulling with all her might until she could grab hold of her wrist. The both went under, came up again gasping for breath. She dragged her limp sister toward the bank, swallowing a belly full of water as she struggled. The bank loomed closer. Five feet. Four. Three. Jo managed to look at Mama. She hadn’t budged, just stood with her arms stretched out in front of her, staring straight ahead, her expression frozen and blank. Then she suddenly howled, the cry sending the hair on Jo’s neck to stand on end. Fear crept into the deepest part of her bones, deeper than she ever thought possible. Jo sucked in a breath of courage and started moving again. Her knee jammed against a rock, a warm trickle spreading where the jagged stone tore her skin. Her feet found the ground and she crawled onto the bank, dragging Carmen with her. Exhausted, she collapsed onto the mud, laying her hand on top of Carmen’s chest, making sure it was rising and falling. Her sister’s breaths were short, frenzied. A moment later, Carmen coughed and water trickled out the side of her mouth. She sucked in a loud, desperate breath and struggled to sit up. “It’s okay,” Jo said, cradling her sister. “It’s going to be okay.” But when Jo looked back to the river, she started, jumping up, leaving Carmen on the bank. Mama was floating, face up, her hair cascading around her head in a silky mass. The current was taking her downstream. Air caught in Jo’s throat and her eyes burned. She ran, splashing into the river. Plunging forward, she reached for Mama’s dress, the tips of her fingers brushing nothing but rushing water. She went under. “La Llorona.” Jo heard the name as if it were carried on the white tips of the current. She jerked her head around, her heart drumming in her ears, praying that she wouldn’t see the weeping woman who’d drowned her children. There was nothing there. She turned back to look at Mama floating downriver, ramming into a rock, then continuing downstream. Jo scrambled forward. Maybe she could swim to her, pull her out and save her like she’d saved Carmen. She took another step, but the current threatened to take hold. Her eyes locked with Mama’s for a second and Jo felt a whisper of sheer terror sweep through her. Like Mama was passing on the curse. Jo choked back her tears as Mama’s body became lifeless, rolled over in the water, floating face down. The water carried her downstream until all Jo could see was the flash of white from her dress mixing with the scattered white caps. Jo screwed up her face, squeezed her eyes shut, and used every ounce of energy she had to get back to shore, afraid she’d be swept away right alongside Mama. Dripping wet and shivering, she stared at the river. Carmen sobbed, her arms outstretched. Jo struggled, fighting back her own tears. She had Carmen. They had each other. She was not cursed. There was no way. La Llorona was dead. A ghost. She would not let the crying woman ruin her life. |