JACINTA REVUELTO GETS A VIGNETTE

Jacinta could be heard outside the offices, and even if you didn't know it was Jacinta on the other side of the flimsy, particle door you knew it was going to be someone with superb noise quotient. No, Jacinta Revuelto was not loud as much as through loud, distilled by decibels. Her son and her rang the bell and were promptly buzzed in.

"Preguntale que hora es Carlitos" she told her big-ass progeny as they walked in, and Carlitos, twelve years old, one hundred and fifty pounds, announced to the secretary that it was, What time is it time. Carlitos was born with Asperger's Syndrome, but had only recently been diagnosed; his parents, Jacinta and Romulo Revuelto just thought that Carlitos was a really thoughtful, quiet baby. And they had fought diagnosis since kindergarden when Carlitos' teachers intuited that something was not firing on all burners in his head. Therefore, he walked around as if he had petite aquatic flippers on. The benefits of diagnosing Carlitos at a time when, pathologically, they could rehearse future habitual nuances had long passed. In fact, in many ways, Jacinta refused to believe that there was anything wrong with her Carlitos. And if you brought it up in polite conversation, or opened a line of inquiry, Jacinta would deny Carlitos was anything but normal. In fact, I made the mistake once of inadvertently ridiculing Jacinta by saying that I was looking at Carlitos' I.E.P. from school and that it clearly said, "Asperger's Syndrome". Jacinta rocked back and forth saying, "ay, no, misterd, Diosito santo, Carlitos es sano...el no tiene nada".

The secretary responded, a little thrown back, that it was 6:02. Carlitos, equally assured, announced their last name, Revuelto, and the name of the lawyer appointed by Family Court they were here to see: "MissQuimbeeee."Jacinta asked Carlitos to get her las Peoples magazine or Vanidades. Carlitos scanned the selection and handed her the closest magazine as if he were using it to stopper a hole. She frowned at the cover, but licked her thumb and read it anyway. She read it because she was tired of the magazines that haunted the shelter where she lived.

Jacinta's movements were filtered through a sieve of deliberate wake, and her utterances were goofy yet nasty,so it was hard to render deadpan with Jacinto. Or even straight-face, and there was always a real danger of laughing and snickering, pulling your shoulders in for a hefty guffaw, in and around her proscenium.

An athletic ankle sock peeped through her ragged bra, but not in an obvious way. No, in fact, in her disheveled cabernet, an athletic sock peeping up through her bra, seemed like a piece of flair, an accent of sorts. Also around her neck, Jacinta wore a gold-plated cross of Lorraine on an electric aqua piece of shoestring, with the knot frayed and puffed out like an asterisk.

One of the counselors at the Women's Shelter had given the cross of Lorraine to her "girls" as they braved their daily obstacles, like finding a job and living off the grid so their psychotic husbands didn't locate and neutralize them. Jacinta's counselors explained the Lorraine cross was associated with Joan of Arc and other women who had set out to define themselves despite the consequences.

Jacinto was one of these women and she wore the cross of Lorraine as if it were a identity-dictionary. It defined her as much as it was part of her new identity. Since Romulo had kicked them out, Carlitos and Jacinta, nine months ago, and forced her to turn to the Bronx shelters for shelter, she had become a new woman, ready to die at the stake like a savior popsicle if necessary.

The problem is that no one wants to listen to Jactina; the lawyers don't want to hear what Jacinta thinks should be done with Romulo. Romulo Revuelto is a schizophrenic bodega owner from the Dominican Republic with a penchant for painting the walls of their bedroom with fesces in the middle of the night because he also happens to be coked up and whisekyed the fuck out because he had to work a double shift at the bodega because Guillermo and his wife had to go to the JFK building.

And even now as she waits for Miss Quimby to emerge from her hamster wheel office, Jacinta remembers the more embrassing and hurtful memories of a fourteen year marriage. She takes a seat in the corner and Carlitos takes a seat in the circle of back to back chairs in the middle of the waiting room. He unsheaths his Playstation from it's microwelded carry case and turns it on so the selection screen for Super Mario Kart throws the powder of light onto his face. It'll be a couple of minutes before Miss Quimby will come out. Mostly it's because her 5:00 showed up at 5:50 and her 6:00, Los Revueltos, showed up on time. Miss Quimby took a righteous joy from not attending to her tardy appointments. Why should she extend herself and take tardy client. If the clients didn't have enough foresight to plan on being there on time, then why should she make time for them and discombobulate her schedule.

She walked out to meet Los Revueltos and tell her 5:00 that she was very sorry but that she could not in fact with them because her six o'clock appointment was on time and because they had not been on time at all (in fact they had been 50 minutes late). The 5 o'clock looked at Miss Quimny like, this bitch could have met with us for ten minutes but had us sit for ten minutes...que puta. And the whole time Miss Quimby has this officious smile on her face that says I will not urinate on you if you spontaneously combust. She asks another gentlemen in the waiting room if he is the interpreter at the same time that that gentleman asks Miss Quimby if he is the interpreter. Which sounds weird and the interpreter realizes this and laughs at himself recklessly and with great humility. The interpreter introduces himself to Jacinta and says to her, "hola, Senora, voy a ser el interprete por hoy. Por favor, pasemos a la sala para hablar con la Senora Quimby." Jacinta likes that the interpreter calls her and Miss Quimby Senora which is way too formal but is nonetheless appreciated.