The Assigned Read Online Free PDF Page A

stove. Over the years, I’ve mastered the art of ignoring A’ma’s comments. Here it comes , I think to myself.
    A’ma starts ranting in Spanish. Although she never officially taught me the language, I know a few choice words when I hear them. She switches back to English to continue her investigation of my whereabouts.
    “And just where have you’ve been Mija ?”
    “I was at the church helping Deacon Nichols.”
    “You and that god forsaken—”
    “A’ma!” I quickly interrupt. “Don’t talk about the Lord’s house like that.” I usually ignore her tirades, that is until she speaks negatively about the church.
    “I’ll say what I want!” she yells back. “And that damn Nichols. They nothing but a bunch of phonies and crooks!”
    “I’ve had about enough of that A’ma. Deacon Nichols is a fine man. You don’t even know him.”
    “I know his kind. They’re all alike,” she finishes before switching back to Spanish.
    Eventually I sigh, “Dinner will be ready shortly, A’ma.”
    Living with her is nearly unbearable at times, but what else can I do? She’s the only family I’ve got.

    I move to the bathroom to find A’ma’s painkillers. I could definitely use some, too. As I search for something to put the cranky woman to sleep, my own reflection grabs my attention. Deacon Nichols’ words ring through my head. “… pretty girl like you?”
    Staring back at my reflection, I’ve almost forgotten what I look like. For the most part, average features stare back at me. Probably wouldn’t have ever been noticed by anyone if it wasn’t for my height. They say 5’7” is pretty tall for a girl. My Mexican features are predominant, though not overwhelming. I’ve always thought my father could be from almost any background. Old classmates would probably say I’ve done little to change my look in the two years since graduating high school. Brown hair, brown eyes, round button nose, full lips. Maybe I would be considered attractive if I fixed myself up and didn’t act so much like a tomboy. That’s what a guy told me one time. I didn’t find it too complementary at the time but who knows … maybe he’s right.
    “What am I doing?” I smirk as I resume my search through the various prescription bottles. My hands fumble around as my mind continues to wander. I couldn’t entertain the thought of dating with A’ma the way she is. I’ve tried that before. It lasted a whole four weeks. It’s like she grows more ill whenever I grow close to someone. Some coincidence. And besides, most guys in their early twenties want more than I’m willing to offer. So with two strikes against me, I stopped dating all together. Things are just easier that way. A’ma is the only family I have here in the states. I’m her only child, and honestly she’s done pretty well by me. As a matter of fact, I even respect my mother, Gabriela Torres, in a lot of ways. Coming to a new country on her own as a young woman, working and providing for a child, even though the father leaves her and their daughter to fend for themselves. It’s a miracle A’ma didn’t deteriorate sooner than the last seven or eight years. So what if the doctors can’t find anything wrong with her. They don’t know everything, and she’s definitely been through a lot. These are all the things I tell myself to keep a positive outlook on my non-existent life.
    “Found them!” I shout aloud as I place my hands on the missing sedatives. When I reenter our dimly lit living room, A’ma seems to be in better spirits.
    “I’m sorry Gloria,” she says. “I just don’t want anyone taking advantage of you. You’re all I have, Mija.”
    “It’s ok A’ma”, I smile. “Now take your medicine. I’m gonna go take a quick shower and then I’ll get your dinner before I leave.”
    “What? You’re leaving me again?”
    “I have to work tonight. They’re doing a big interview with that celebrity in town and I have to help.”
    “Will you at