2:45 a.m.
Camila couldn't sleep. She sat in the kitchen, folding napkins. Her hands were trembling.
"Bad dream?" Mateo asked. He was peeling potatoes. Camila nodded. "I dreamed a little girl was running around. She was calling 'Daddy'... but not to me."
Mateo fell silent. He knew who it was.
2:58 a.m. The lightbulb flickered three times. Click... click... click... 2:59 a.m. Creak. The door opened.
Wind blew in, carrying the smell of candy. Strawberry lollipops.
Exactly 3:00 a.m. The one who entered was a little girl.
She was five years old. Her hair was tied into two ponytails. She wore a pink dress and multicolored shoes. In her hand, she held a balloon. It had already deflated.
She walked in. Her feet made no sound. She sat in the tallest chair and swung her legs.
"Hi, Mister." Her voice was cheerful. "Does this restaurant sell candy?"
In the kitchen, the knife fell from Mateo's hand. Clang. Camila immediately grabbed Mateo's hand. Tight.
Mateo walked over slowly and crouched in front of the girl. "Um... we don't have any candy, kid. We have soup. We have tacos." The girl pouted. "I don't like soup. I want candy."
She looked around. "Do you know my mommy, Mister? Her name is Lena. She told me that if I got hungry at three in the morning, I should come here."
Mateo's world stopped.
"Lena..." His voice broke. "Yeah. Mommy. She's at home. Waiting for me to come back. But I got lost." The girl pointed at her stomach. "I'm hungry."
Mateo stood up and walked to the kitchen like a robot. Camila whispered, "Mateo... that's... that's Ana, isn't it?" Mateo didn't answer. Tears were already falling.
He opened the refrigerator. Empty. He opened a drawer. There was one packet of sugar, one stick of cinnamon, and spoiled milk.
He couldn't cook anything substantial. His hands were trembling.
He remembered. Ten years ago. Ana's favorite: Leche Caliente con Canela. Warm cinnamon milk. For bedtime.
He heated the milk. Burned it a little. He blew on it. He added too much sugar. Just like back then. He cut the cinnamon stick with trembling hands.
Ten minutes later, he carried out a small mug. Steam rose from it.
"Here you go, kid." His voice was hoarse. The girl took a sip. Slurp. "Yummy! Just like Mommy makes!"
She drank while swinging her legs. "Mister, are you sad? Your eyes are red. Like mine when I fell off my bike."
Mateo crouched again. "I... miss someone." "Who do you miss?" "I miss... I miss a smart little girl."
The girl thought for a moment. Then she climbed down from the chair and hugged Mateo's leg. "Don't be sad anymore. Mommy will get mad." She let go and ran to the door. "I'm heading back now, Mister! Mommy's waiting!"
Before she left, she turned around. "Oh, right. Thanks for the milk. It was yummy. I'll order candy tomorrow!" Creak. The door shut.
Her deflated balloon remained on the chair.
Mateo sat on the floor. Ten minutes. He didn't move. Camila sat beside him. She didn't dare touch him.
3:20 a.m. Whoosh. Dust fell from the ceiling. A lot of it. But it didn't reach the floor. The dust swirled in the air, taking the shape of a little girl running around. Rolling. Giggle giggle.
Then the dust fell to the floor. The eighth clean circle took the shape of a balloon.
Mateo finally broke down crying. Hard. Like a little boy.
"Ana... Ana..." Camila hugged him from behind. "Yes, Mateo. That's her. That's her."
Mateo pounded his chest. "I'm the one who told her to buy the balloon! I'm the one who said, 'Be careful!' I'm the one who..."
Camila covered Mateo's mouth with her hand. "Shhh. She's already forgiven you. Can't you hear her? She said, 'Don't be sad.'"
4:00 a.m. Mateo had stopped crying. His eyes were swollen. He picked up the deflated balloon from the chair and blew into it. Pfffft. The balloon wouldn't inflate. It was torn.
He laughed while crying. "Figures. Just like back then. You could never blow up a balloon."
He opened his notebook. His handwriting was a mess.
Chef's Notes—Day 6: Ana = Leche Caliente con Canela = Came asking for candy. 8 circles. She still remembers me. I can still cook for her.
He looked toward the table in the corner. A small wooden spoon lay on top of it. Broken. Ana's spoon.
The spoon moved on its own. Click. It fell to the floor. Mateo picked it up and hugged it.
Camila whispered, "We'll prepare some candy tomorrow, Mateo." Mateo nodded. "Yeah. Strawberry candy."
Hmmm... The fan spun. From the kitchen, the smell of warm milk still lingered. Mixed with the smell of marigolds from the night before.
Tonight, El Polvo finally welcomed its most important customer.
And she went home with a full stomach.