Lety Out Loud

by Angela Cervantes

  “Hey, I want to introduce everyone to the Salazar family. They came all the way from Wichita to meet Hunter,” said Dr. Villalobos, in a voice that made Lety’s heart flip. It was Dr. V.’s excited voice. The same voice he used when he spoke about Spike on the first day. The same tone he used when he said he liked the Reading FUR Friends idea.

  A young man stepped forward, holding a folded piece of paper in his hands. “Hi, guys, I’m James. My family and I thought you should know why we came today,” he said. “Two weeks ago, we adopted Gunner from an animal shelter. It was what my mom calls love at first sight. But as soon as we got Gunner home, she’d cry every night. We tried leaving the light on for her. We gave her extra treats. My mom and dad even let her sleep in their bed with them, even though she insisted on hogging their pillows.”

  Everyone laughed.

  “Nothing would stop her crying at night. We wondered if she was missing something, like a favorite toy or stuffed animal. Soon, we discovered that Gunner wasn’t missing something. She was missing someone. She was missing you, Hunter. You and your family.”

  Hunter sniffled and Lety quickly patted his back.

  “We received a phone call from the shelter director, explaining your story. Then we received Gunner’s profile.”

  “Profile?” Hunter looked confused.

  James unfolded the piece of paper he held in his hand and read it out loud.

  Lety let out a soft smile in recognition. Hunter glanced over at her with moist eyes.

  “You?” he asked.

  Lety responded with an it-was-the-least-I-could-do shrug.

  “Oh, Lety!” Kennedy cried. “That was the best one yet.”

  Lety had written Gunner’s profile after Hunter had told her he was giving up on getting her back. In her heart, Lety knew she had to do something. She wrote the profile and gave it to Dr. Villalobos to share. He had been more than happy to send it to the Salazar family.

  “Thank you, Lety,” Hunter said with wet eyes. “It’s true. You never give up.”

  James looked away from the profile toward Gunner and Hunter’s little brothers.

  “As soon as we read the profile, we knew what we had to do. Now that I see Gunner with you guys, I know we made the right decision.”

  “Thank you so much.” Hunter beamed. He stood up quick and hugged James and the entire Salazar family. “This means so much to us, you don’t even know.”

  “Thank you with all our hearts,” Hunter’s grandma said, rushing to embrace the family, too. Once all the hugs were over, Dr. Villalobos guided the Salazar family across the lawn to meet a few of the other shelter dogs.

  Lety’s family walked over to her with Spike on a blue leash. She still couldn’t believe how amazing the day had turned out. Hunter slipped in next to her. “Can I meet your parents?”

  “Okay, but they don’t speak a lot of English.” As they approached, Lety gestured toward Hunter, ready to make an introduction, but Hunter launched into Spanish!

  “Señora y Señor Muñoz. Mi nombre es Hunter. Yo soy un amigo de Lety,” Hunter said, introducing himself as Lety’s friend. Lety giggled. “Yo quiero dar gracias a ustedes porque Lety es muy simpática — is that right, Lety?”

  “Yes, I’m very nice,” she said. Lety and Brisa laughed. Usually they were the ones pestering people if they said something right or wrong in English. It was fun to see Hunter making an attempt in Spanish.

  “He’s turning all red!” Eddie laughed and pointed at Hunter. Brisa quickly put her hands over Eddie’s mouth, which made him laugh more.

  “Sin ella,” Hunter continued. “Nunca … Sorry! I mean without her, my dog would never have been returned to me. I didn’t practice this last part because I didn’t know.”

  “I can translate,” Eddie jumped in, and quickly rattled off Hunter’s final words in Spanish to his parents. When he was done, they beamed with pride.

  “You are welcome,” Lety’s mom and dad said together.

  “We both have dogs, Hunter!” Lety said.

  “Maybe we can go to the dog park together?” Hunter said. “What do you think? I think Spike and Gunner would get along.” Before Lety could answer, he pointed across the lawn. “Check it out,” he said. The two Salazar boys were petting Riley, the three-legged husky pup. “I think Riley is heading to Wichita.”

  Lety wondered if hearts could explode from so much joy as she watched Riley show off all his best tricks. He rolled over, picked up a stick with his mouth, and dropped it at James’s feet. Riley sat up on three legs and tilted his head at them. Lety knew that adorable pose meant, “Don’t you want to take me home?”

  She hoped with all her heart that the kind Salazar family answered yes.

  The next day, the girls were at Kennedy’s pool with Eddie and Spike. Hunter and Mario were each sprawled out on an inflatable doughnut in the pool, while Gunner took shade under a large umbrella.

  “Are you guys coming to my birthday party?” Mario yelled to Lety and Brisa, who relaxed on lounge chairs. The girls had just received the invitation yesterday for Mario’s pizza party.

  “Are Gazi, Aziza, and Myra invited, too?” Brisa asked.

  “I won’t go if they’re not invited also,” Lety said.

  “I invited everyone,” Mario said. “Geesh! I even invited Kennedy, who hates my guts.”

  Lety and Brisa laughed and looked over at Kennedy, sunbathing on a lounge chair.

  “I’m not here to hate,” Kennedy said, pulling off her sunglasses. “I only celebrate.”

  “Alert! Alert! I think Spike wants to jump in,” Hunter said. Lety scanned the pool area to find Spike pacing the edge of the pool like he was longing to swim.

  “Don’t you dare, Spike!” Kennedy yelled. “Lety, please stop him.”

  “C’mon, boy! Jump!” Eddie said from the water. “He wants to swim. Let him swim!”

  “No dogs in the pool! No dogs in the pool!” Kennedy screamed just as Spike bounded into the pool. “Oh my! We’re going to get kicked out.” Kennedy sat up, watching with panic as Spike dog-paddled across the pool toward Eddie. Lety jumped up to grab him from the pool, but before she could, there was another blast of water.

  “Gunner, no!” yelled Kennedy.

  Gunner had dived in, too, splashing water in every direction.

  “It’s a pool pawty!” Mario yelled. “Get it?”

  “Sorry, Kennedy!” Hunter apologized from the water.

  “My mom is going to get a call from the HOA tonight,” Kennedy said. “We’ll be banned from the pool for the rest of the summer. I know it.”

  “Sorry, Kennedy,” Lety said.

  “I got them!” Hunter yelled, dog-paddling next to Spike and Gunner.

  “¡Lo siento, Kennedy!” Eddie shouted from the pool.

  “Hey, if you can’t beat them, join them, right?” Lety said, taking Kennedy’s hand and leading her to the edge of the pool. Lety grasped Brisa’s hand, too.

  “That’s a silly expression,” Kennedy said.

  “At the count of three,” Lety said. “Ready?”

  “One!” Brisa shouted.

  “Two!” Lety screamed.

  “Three!” Kennedy squealed.

  The three girls jumped into the pool, making a larger splash than Gunner.

  When Lety came up for air, Gunner had a ball in her mouth and everyone was chasing her around the pool. Lety glanced around for Spike. He was already outside of the pool, dripping wet and waiting at the edge for her. She swam to him.

  “Are you looking for me?” she asked. Spike let out an excited whine. “I love you and I’ll never give up on you, Spike,” she said before diving back down into the clear blue water. From above, she could hear Spike barking. She knew it was his way of saying, “I’ll never give up on you, Lety.”

  Read more from Angela Cervantes! Turn the page for a sneak peek of Gaby, Lost and Found.

  A Siamese cat crouched on a tree branch, peering down at Gaby with brilliant blue eyes. It cried out. The cat was
stuck in the tree in front of her house and, as luck would have it, she had on the nicest sweater she owned. Gaby pulled the cardigan sweater tighter around her. This was her last good school sweater until who-knows-when her father would have enough money to buy her a new one. The poor cat cried again. Gaby looked back at her small yellow house. If her mother were here, that cat would already be out of the tree and purring — safe and sound, in her mother’s arms.

  Mind made up, Gaby pulled off her sweater and tossed it onto her porch. “You’re out of luck, gato!” she yelled. “My mom, master tree climber and cat rescuer, isn’t back yet.” She rolled up the sleeves of her white dress shirt. “But until she is, you got me.” Gaby grasped the nearest branch and pulled herself up. “Gaby to the rescue.”

  The cat meowed.

  “I am hurrying.”

  The last time Gaby had climbed the tree was when she and her best friend, Alma, had challenged the boys to a water-balloon fight last summer. Up high was the perfect spot for a full-blown assault on the boys below. Those guys never had a chance.

  Gaby secured her feet and hands and climbed higher, until the cat was within arm’s reach. “See? You aren’t the only one who can climb.” But then she looked down. Mistake number one.

  She knew that the universal rule of tree climbing said don’t ever, ever look down, but she couldn’t help it. This was the highest she’d ever climbed. If she fell, she’d definitely end up looking like an Egyptian mummy. Gaby imagined herself bandaged from head to toe and sipping dinner through a straw.

  Well, she’d just have to not fall. Simple as that. “Here, kitty, kitty!” she called out, the same way she had heard her mom call for stray cats hundreds of times. But this was no stray. The cat was too shiny. Too chubby. Around its neck, a rhinestone collar with gold charms sparkled. Someone loved that cat. She reached out toward it. “Almost got you.” Mistake number two.

  The cat arched its back and hissed.

  Gaby pulled back, startled. “Nice teeth.” She resettled on the branch, considering her options.

  When Gaby was younger, she had seen her mom climb the same tree many times to rescue a cat. All the way up, her mom had giggled and sweet-talked the cat in Spanish. “Que bonita eres gatita. You’re so pretty, little cat.” Her mom told her that when dealing with cats you should speak softly and pick them up by the loose skin at the back of their neck, because that’s how their mothers carried them. Her mom had always made it look so easy. Once she had the cat nestled against her chest, she would maneuver down through the branches, comforting the cat with kisses on the ears and soft words with rolling Spanish r’s like purrs. There were never any arched backs, hisses, or sharp teeth.

  Gaby took a deep breath and reached out for the cat again. “It’s okay, little kitty,” she said sweetly. This time the cat latched on to her, digging its claws into her arm and shoulder. “Ooh, ouch!” She couldn’t quite get it by the scruff of the neck like her mom had shown her, but at least she had the animal. That was progress. Now she just had to get down.

  Without falling.

  She held on to the cat and, with one free hand, made her way down the tree, branch by branch. She was halfway down when a loud, brash voice broke her concentration.

  “Gaby, what are you doing up there?” Alma hollered.

  “Taking a nap!” Gaby shouted back, careful to keep a tight grip on the tree and the cat.

  “Be careful!”

  “I’m always” — Gaby’s foot slipped, but she quickly regained her foothold — “careful.”

  A faint squeak of metal signaled Marcos and Enrique pulling up on their bikes. Both of them were wearing their usual long white T-shirts and baggy basketball shorts. Between the branches, Gaby saw Enrique point up at her. Marcos flung his head of dark hair back, laughed, and clapped as if whatever Enrique had said was the funniest thing he’d ever heard. They were probably making a joke about her falling on her butt. “We’re almost there, kitty,” she crooned.

  Finally, she swung her legs over the lowest branch and jumped down. The cat leaped out of her arms with a screech.

  “You’re welcome!” Gaby yelled as the cat scurried down the street. She inspected her shirt and pants. Her clothes were still intact, but her shoulder ached and her arm was covered in red welts.

  Alma pulled a leaf out of Gaby’s wavy brown hair. “Not very grateful, is she?”

  “That’s Mrs. Sepulveda’s cat,” Enrique said. He leaned his bike against the tree. “Whenever she opens her front door that cat takes off. One time she gave me five dollars to get it down from her roof. It almost ended my basketball career.” Tall and skinny in an athletic way, Enrique played all the sports, but basketball was his favorite. He held the neighborhood record for most games of Horse won. “I still have the scars.” He stuck out his long arm and twisted it to search his scabby elbow for the old wounds.

  “Hey, watch this!” Marcos yelled from across the street. He showed off a no-hand wheelie on his red-and-silver lowrider bike, and then jumped the curb. He stopped a few inches from the girls. “Fa-Zam in your face!”

  Gaby yawned. Alma closed her eyes and snored.

  “That’s cool,” Marcos said. He got off his bike and walked it over to the porch. “I’ll remember you both when I’m in Las Vegas performing daredevil stunts for millions of dollars.”

  “Millions? I can see your stunts for free on YouTube.” Alma shook her dark curls. “If I were you, I’d stick to the palm reading. Now, there’s a trick that won’t paralyze you from the neck down.” Gaby laughed and gave her a high five.

  When Marcos wasn’t doing wheelies on his bike, he believed he could see the future in the thin, splintered lines of the palm. He steadied his bike against Gaby’s porch and sat down on the steps. “I know you only say that because you care.” He brushed back a swatch of black hair from his hazel eyes and flashed both girls a smile. “Speaking of palm readings, anyone want one? I need the practice. Anyone?”

  Alma busied herself with rewrapping her purple scarf around her neck and hummed. Enrique stared off into the tree as if it had suddenly spoken to him.

  “Okay, okay.” Gaby grabbed her sweater, tied it around her waist, and sat next to Marcos. “But I don’t want to hear that I’m going to die before the age of thirty from a heart attack like you tell everyone.”

  Even though Marcos and Enrique were a year older than the girls, all four had been friends since they had training wheels on their bikes. As long as they could remember, Marcos had boasted that he was gifted with the power of palm reading. Some women in the neighborhood even paid him to read their palms.

  “Tell me what we’ll be doing for our sixth-grade service project.”

  “I’m a palm reader, not a psychic.” Marcos took Gaby’s hand. “Still, I might be able to help you … What are your choices?”

  “An animal shelter or the City Harvest Center,” Gaby answered.

  “Both are lame.” Alma rolled her eyes.

  “Working with animals would be fun.” Gaby shrugged. “That would be better than the City Harvest Center.”

  “Totally.” Alma nodded.

  Gaby passed her a slight smile. Ever since Gaby’s mom was deported and her father had moved back into the house to take care of her, money had been tight. Everyone in the neighborhood knew that Gaby and her father were struggling, but only Alma knew that twice a month they went to the City Harvest Center to pick up food.

  “What you got against free food for poor people?” Marcos chided.

  “Nothing. It’s just … it’s just I …” Gaby stammered. She was on a first-name basis with the staff at the City Harvest Center. The minute she walked in the door it was, “Hey, Gaby, what’s up?” At the center, she and her father picked up boxes filled with canned tuna, peanut butter, spaghetti, and toilet paper. Sometimes if the center had a special donation of cookies they’d throw in extra for Gaby. She never had the heart to tell them she didn’t like sweets. She always took the extra cookies with a big smile and sai
d thanks at least a hundred times before she left. Gaby was grateful for the Harvest Center. She just didn’t want to go there with her classmates. “I’d rather take care of the animals. That’s all.”

  “Hmmmm, the food pantry or an animal shelter, you say …” Marcos narrowed his hazel eyes and traced a line on Gaby’s palm with his finger. Suddenly he lifted her hand to his nose and sniffed. “I smell kitty poop!”

  Gaby yanked her hand away while he and Enrique laughed.

  “You’re ridiculous.” Gaby glared at Marcos.

  “My Uncle Junior and me took a box of puppies to a shelter once,” Enrique said. “We found them by the Parkway Bridge. You know, where the sign is that says NO DUMPING?”

  “Why do people do that? It’s dangerous with all the cars and the woods.” Gaby shook her head.

  “My uncle says it’s because people think that the animals will like living there. There’s lots of birds, snakes, and mice to hunt,” Enrique said.

  “Or maybe they don’t know about your house.” Marcos pointed to the small white saucer on the bottom step.

  When Gaby’s mom had lived at home, she filled the saucer with food for the strays. Sometimes, it was leftover chicken from the evening’s dinner. Other times it was slices of sandwich meat or oatmeal, anything she could spare, which wasn’t a lot, but her mom always managed to find something. Animales depend on us to take care of them, she’d always tell Gaby. Every night, stray cats and dogs showed up on the porch as if a secret animal network had spread the word about the nice woman in the yellow house who feeds the strays.

  One night, when Gaby’s father still lived with them, he ran a skinny gray cat away from the porch. Her mom was heartbroken. It was the first time Gaby had heard her mom raise her voice to her father. “It’s easy para ti to scare them off, but I’ve been that cat,” she’d said. “I know how it feels to be the one looking for food and a safe place.”

  Gaby hadn’t known what her mother meant at the time, but later her mom told her about the many nights she had slept outside and traveled on an empty stomach from her home country of Honduras to reach the United States.