Chapter 13

  I see her first time en el hotel, in the back room where they give us uniform. She don’t fit here. She don’t move like us, talk like us. She look lost, maybe sad.

  "Hola," I say to her, because no one else talking to her. "You new, sí?"

  She look at me, her eyes tired. "Yes," she say. "I’m new."

  She don’t say much. Just put on the uniform and look at herself in the mirror like she don’t know who she is anymore.

  I know that feeling.

  She work hard, pero no like us. She don’t have the hands. You see, our hands know how to move fast, how to scrub, how to make bed tight like army style. Her hands… they are soft. They don’t know this work.

  But she try. That’s more than I see in other girls who come here.

  At first, she don’t know how to move right. She don’t know how to lift, how to scrub.

  After one hour, I see her rubbing her hands, looking at them like they not hers.

  "Mis manos... my hands..." she whisper.

  I look. Red. Raw. Blisters coming up.

  She don’t say nothing after that, just keep working. But I see it.

  Next day, she walk slow. Stiff. She bend down to tuck a sheet, and I hear her - "Aghh."

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  "Your espalda hurts, sí?" I ask.

  She nod, but don’t stop working.

  After three days, her hands not soft no more. Skin crack. Her knuckles split.

  She try to hide it, but when we sit for lunch, she wince when she hold the spoon.

  "You put cream?" I ask.

  She shake her head. "No point."

  I nod. She learning.

  One day, during lunch, I sit next to her. "What you do before?" I ask.

  She take a deep breath. "I worked in tech. Big company."

  I raise my eyebrows. "You was rich, sí?"

  She smile, but small. "I was okay."

  Then she sigh. "I tried another job first. As a waitress. Thought it would be easy."

  I laugh so loud the other girls turn around. "Waitress is not easy, chica."

  She nod. "I know that now. The young girls, they were fast, they knew how to flirt with customers. I was slow. And… I wasn’t young enough. That’s what the manager said."

  I roll my eyes. "Hombres always want young girls with big boobies, ya sabes..." I spread my hands wide and grin. "Puro buffet de carne fresca, morritas chichonas para el menú."

  She chuckle, shaking her head. "Guess I was the wrong order."

  I snort. "You too fancy for that place, anyway."

  She poke at her food. "Didn’t matter. Got fired after two weeks."

  I shake my head. "Life, eh? Too old for some things, too young for others. Too ugly for this, too pretty for that. Women can’t win."

  She sigh. "Neither can men, apparently."

  I laugh again. "Mija, at least men can piss standing up and get paid more. They already winning."

  She smile, but sad. She don’t argue.

  One day, problem.

  A guest, rich - looking, complain. Say something missing in the room. Manager, he angry. He look at me first. Always look at me first.

  "Who cleaned 214?" he ask.

  My heart stop.

  I cleaned 214. But I did nothing wrong. I never steal. I never do nothing bad.

  I open my mouth to speak, but then—

  "I did."

  It’s Nora.

  She step forward, say it so calm, like she not afraid.

  The manager stare at her. "You?"

  She nod. No fear. No shaking. Nothing.

  I stare at her. Why she do this?

  Manager sigh. He rub his head. "I should fire you."

  Nora don’t say nothing.

  "But we short on staff," he grumble. "One more mistake, you’re out."

  He leave.

  I turn to her. "Chica, why you do that? You crazy?"

  She just smile small. "You need this job more than me."

  I don’t know what to say.

  After that, she my friend.