The problem of teen pregnancies would soon visit my family in Colon as my sister, Aminta, following her repeated disappearing acts from the house, reported to my mother that she was missing her period. By then my aunts, my mother’s sisters, declared her pregnant. Somehow my mother would blame me for not taking better care of my younger sister.
“Dont you go anywhere because I want you to go with me to meet these people tonight,” she said to me one afternoon upon arriving home from choir practice. My mother’s summons unsettled me, although I tried not to show it. We were about to end up at some place in Colon City to meet people I’d never seen before.
Shortly after leaving the house we found ourselves in a room in the midst of what appeared to be people from the interior of the country. They seemed to be quite nervous as a young man wearing a typical straw hat entered the room as we were ushered in.
“This is my son,” said my mother introducing me. The young man, who appeared to be a little older than I was, stood around apprehensively staring at us from time to time. I sensed some anxiety in the room but then, my sister Aminta, being still a minor, was not present, so it could have been a more tense encounter. These were some of my thoughts as I stood there sizing up the situation and I refused to sit in the seat offered. Standing behind my mother in a very supportive pose, I felt I was there as my family’s representative and spokesman.
Before I could open my mouth to address the issue at hand, however, my mother nervously blurted out, “I know that they are young people and….” At that point she was cut off by the young man’s father who came to rescue his son. “Look Señora,” he said, “these things happen to young people and we don’t think that it should go any further than here because my son is willing…” I lost interest then and there and I decided to just keep my mouth shut. They continued the talks until my mother said, “Thank you for listening to me.” Then, without any further negotiation as to the boy’s responsibility in this whole matter, she got up and we left in silence. I would never see those people again.
During this period, just before I became homeless and started living as a bachelor, I found myself hanging around more consistently with my beautiful Pug. I had been accepted by her grandparents, who raised her since she was born, as well as all the neighbors. I was also accepted by all the youth who lived in the building. Nevertheless, I continued to be suspicious of a girl who was able to wander off at will, at all hours of the day or night.
My suspicions were confirmed, however, when, during our rendezvous, I would realize just how imaginative Pug was in securing for us the privacy in places where we would not only neck in peace, but have sexual intercourse. It still confounded me how she could find places for us to have sex, but she did.
Life became a roller coaster ride for me. She would often whisper to me where to find her and then she would take over one of the communal toilets for us to use for hours at a time at night having sex without any interruption and certainly no protection. That year of 1954 would mark my inclusion in the teen pregnancy statistics if there ever existed any.
This story continues.