to switch places. Then Lola would sew her uniform on the machine while Enriqueta did the hand finishing on hers, and beg i n basting the next one with the large stitches that would hold the material in place while it went through the machine.
Juan’s cousin hadn ’ t been surprised that they ’ d never seen a sewing machine before. He said many women still thought it was a mark of quality to show fine even hand sewn stitching—and proof of the ability to pay for it. She remembered his pride as he showed them the machine. “…and the thread goes up here and you put the end through the needle here. And then you put the cloth under this and work the ped al up and down with your feet. ”
Victoria and Jacoba should see her now, making tiny even stitches faster than the eye can see. Sometimes Lola thought of the machine as part of their team, helping them make more uniforms so they could add a little more money to their hoard; other times she thought of it as the heavy ball at the end of the chain of circumstances that kept them tethered to this room day and night. She felt the same way about Uncle and Auntie, as they were told to call Juan’s cousins. She wanted to say something comforting to Enriqueta, but the pounding noise from the other room made conversation impossible. She wondered what Uncle was doing , but the girls were expected to work until suppertime.
Lola tapped Enriqueta’s bare foot with her own, giving her sister a big smile. Enriqueta replied by sticking out her tongue, which set them both giggling. Enriqueta’s foot began to move again, and Lola picked up the next piece of uniform. Every time she thought of the room as a prison, she scolde d herself. She ’ d learned just how miserable life could be in the city.
Lola had gone with Uncle a few times as he made his rounds of the women who sewed for him. He thought that if they inspected the uniforms at collection and made the women correct their own mistakes , it would teach them to be more careful. The plan didn’t work because the corrections were often as bad as the original mistake. The women were paid by the number of uniforms they finished and their main concern…no, their only concern was their payment. After seeing how they lived she understood. They didn ’ t have the time or the energy for the luxury of pride in their workmanship.
She thought of the woman whose three little girls had been sitting in a line against the wall with their skinny little legs stuck out in front of them, sewing as fast as they could. A boy whose gap-toothed smile said he was about six years old was carrying a baby and trying to keep it from crying as the woman desperately tried to finish one more uniform. Lola would never forget the stricken face of the mother when she picked up a jacket and they both noticed a sleeve sewn with the wrong side of the material facing out. Lola had quickly shoved the jacket into the middle of the pile. That was one of the more pleasant homes they visited . Most of the places were crowded and filthy.
She remembered a place that smelled so bad she ’ d hung her head over the side of the wagon and vomited in the street—and then she ’ d vomited again as two scrawny dogs with ribs showing through their fur had run to lick up her half-digested breakfast. Her stomach still churned at the memory. Some of the houses were little more than boxes that leaked in the rain. Entire families slept, ate, and lived in one small room.
The noise in the other room stopped as suddenly as it had begun.
“Enriqueta! Lola!” Uncle’s shout broke the silence. Lola struggled to her feet and helped Enriqueta stand . They went out, curious to see what was causing all the commotion.
I n the middle of the room stood two brand new sewing machines and Uncle was strutting around them with his chest puffed out in pride like the old rooster on the plantation.
“These are for you , ”
Juan’s cousin hadn ’ t been surprised that they ’ d never seen a sewing machine before. He said many women still thought it was a mark of quality to show fine even hand sewn stitching—and proof of the ability to pay for it. She remembered his pride as he showed them the machine. “…and the thread goes up here and you put the end through the needle here. And then you put the cloth under this and work the ped al up and down with your feet. ”
Victoria and Jacoba should see her now, making tiny even stitches faster than the eye can see. Sometimes Lola thought of the machine as part of their team, helping them make more uniforms so they could add a little more money to their hoard; other times she thought of it as the heavy ball at the end of the chain of circumstances that kept them tethered to this room day and night. She felt the same way about Uncle and Auntie, as they were told to call Juan’s cousins. She wanted to say something comforting to Enriqueta, but the pounding noise from the other room made conversation impossible. She wondered what Uncle was doing , but the girls were expected to work until suppertime.
Lola tapped Enriqueta’s bare foot with her own, giving her sister a big smile. Enriqueta replied by sticking out her tongue, which set them both giggling. Enriqueta’s foot began to move again, and Lola picked up the next piece of uniform. Every time she thought of the room as a prison, she scolde d herself. She ’ d learned just how miserable life could be in the city.
Lola had gone with Uncle a few times as he made his rounds of the women who sewed for him. He thought that if they inspected the uniforms at collection and made the women correct their own mistakes , it would teach them to be more careful. The plan didn’t work because the corrections were often as bad as the original mistake. The women were paid by the number of uniforms they finished and their main concern…no, their only concern was their payment. After seeing how they lived she understood. They didn ’ t have the time or the energy for the luxury of pride in their workmanship.
She thought of the woman whose three little girls had been sitting in a line against the wall with their skinny little legs stuck out in front of them, sewing as fast as they could. A boy whose gap-toothed smile said he was about six years old was carrying a baby and trying to keep it from crying as the woman desperately tried to finish one more uniform. Lola would never forget the stricken face of the mother when she picked up a jacket and they both noticed a sleeve sewn with the wrong side of the material facing out. Lola had quickly shoved the jacket into the middle of the pile. That was one of the more pleasant homes they visited . Most of the places were crowded and filthy.
She remembered a place that smelled so bad she ’ d hung her head over the side of the wagon and vomited in the street—and then she ’ d vomited again as two scrawny dogs with ribs showing through their fur had run to lick up her half-digested breakfast. Her stomach still churned at the memory. Some of the houses were little more than boxes that leaked in the rain. Entire families slept, ate, and lived in one small room.
The noise in the other room stopped as suddenly as it had begun.
“Enriqueta! Lola!” Uncle’s shout broke the silence. Lola struggled to her feet and helped Enriqueta stand . They went out, curious to see what was causing all the commotion.
I n the middle of the room stood two brand new sewing machines and Uncle was strutting around them with his chest puffed out in pride like the old rooster on the plantation.
“These are for you , ”
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