Me, Frida, and the Secret of the Peacock Ring

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Me, Frida, and the Secret of the Peacock Ring Page 9

by Angela Cervantes


  “That’s horrible,” Gael said, wincing. “They’re going to teach you things like ‘Hola, amigo. ¿Cómo estás tú?’ You’re better than that.”

  “No, I’m not, but thanks! Are you and Lizzie okay? Has my mom called your parents yet?”

  “Not yet. I hope she doesn’t. My dad’s super busy in New York, and my mom is worried about him because he’s so far away. She doesn’t need any more stress.”

  “Well, I’m glad you’re here.” Paloma smiled. “I learned in class that Frida’s artwork was decreed as a national patrimony by the Mexican government. That’s an important detail, don’t you think?”

  “I knew that,” Gael said with a slight shrug. “It’s cool, right?”

  Paloma bit down on her bottom lip, annoyed that once again Gael held back valuable information about Frida from her. “What? Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “I didn’t think it mattered,” Gael said. “Sorry.”

  “Just like you didn’t think Frida’s urn mattered? Of course it matters! When solving cases, Lulu always has to understand motives. Why do people do things? These important details could help us find the ring.” Paloma’s mind raced with theories. “If her work and jewelry are protected, it makes it much more valuable. Maybe the Trench Coat Man is planning to take the ring outside of Mexico. The Mexican government needs to be informed. We have to tell them.”

  “They won’t believe a bunch of kids,” Gael said. “They’ll laugh in our faces.”

  “Can we call your dad for more information? You said he was talking to a friend on the phone when you overheard him mention the peacock ring. Could we speak to his friend?”

  “Impossible,” Gael said. “We don’t know who the friend was, and we barely speak to our dad since he’s been in New York. We only talk to him every other week. He’s super busy.”

  “But doesn’t the Trench Coat Man change things? If he finds the ring before we do, it will be lost for good. We can’t let that happen.”

  Gael pulled on his eagle warrior medallion and shuffled his feet uncomfortably. “You’re right, but we can’t speak to my dad about this,” Gael said. “It won’t help anything.”

  Paloma stared at him coolly. Something wasn’t right. Frustrated, she turned away from him and watched the last few students head back inside the school. It was strangely quiet outside now.

  “Oh, sweet Frida! I’m late for class!” Paloma shot up and grabbed her bag and juice. “I gotta go! If I mess up anymore, my mom will send me back to Kansas. Seriously! She was looking at flights last night.”

  Gael kept pace with her as she rushed back to the school entrance. “I’m sorry we got you in trouble with your mom.”

  “I’ll survive. Look, the main thing is we’re closing in on the ring and we have to keep going, but we need to be able to communicate. There’s a planter in front of my gate. You know it, right?”

  Gael nodded.

  “We can leave messages for each other under the leaves of the plant until I get my phone back. We can’t let Trench Coat Man find the peacock ring. Nobody grabs my ankles, steals from Frida, and gets away with it!”

  “Suena bien,” Gael said as Paloma rushed into the school.

  Once the door closed behind her, Paloma stopped to watch Gael walk away. Her heart thumped hard in her chest. Why was he against asking his dad for more information? And how did he not know who his dad’s friend was? She didn’t want to admit it, but deep down she knew Gael was keeping something from her. But what? And why?

  The next morning before class, Paloma found a note from Gael in the planter in front of their house. While her mom locked the gate, Paloma tucked it into her bag to read later in class. From the corner of her eye, Paloma saw a black car parked a few houses down. She had never noticed it parked on her block before. Was it the same car that followed them from Casa Azul? Was she being paranoid? Paloma squatted down like she was tying her shoes to get a better look at its license plate, but there was none, which she thought was strange. Didn’t all cars have to use license plates? Maybe Mexico had different rules …

  As Paloma walked with her mom to the bus stop, she made a point of watching passing cars and checked for license plates. All of them had one. She had to warn Gael and Lizzie. Maybe there was a car outside their house watching them, too?

  Once she was seated in class, Paloma opened Gael’s note. On the note card, he had sketched Frida Kahlo with her arms crossed over her chest and a pout on her face. Above it was a bubble with the words “¿Donde está mi anillo?” Paloma giggled out loud. She envied Gael’s mad sketching skills. Next to the sketch was a scribbled note, “We saw a black car parked on our street last night. Be careful. We are being watched.”

  All through Beginner’s Spanish, Paloma thought about the black car. She was relieved when class ended, but she couldn’t let on to Professor Breton, who had promised to drop her off at home.

  “Your mom has invited us to lunch at Pepe Coyotes today,” he said, opening his car door for Paloma.

  “Good, I’m starving,” Paloma said. “I could eat a million tacos!”

  “Well, then I’m glad she’s paying.”

  Paloma giggled. “Isn’t that near the Jardín Centenario?”

  “That’s right. You know your way around already?”

  Once they arrived at the park, Professor Breton found parking a few blocks away from Pepe Coyotes. As they walked toward the restaurant, Paloma spotted the Fortune-Teller packing up her jewelry into a bag.

  “Do you mind if I look at her rings real fast?”

  Professor Breton looked at his watch. “Sure, we’re early. I’ll call your mom to let her know we’re close.” Paloma walked up to the Fortune-Teller, curious about where she was going.

  “Slow day for jewelry?” Paloma asked, sneaking up behind the Fortune-Teller as she hoisted a bag full of her wares.

  “Very slow,” the woman answered with a faint smile. “I’m going to go to the mercado to try to find better luck. I’ve been looking for the peacock ring that you asked for …”

  Paloma froze. She had forgotten that she had opened her big mouth about the peacock ring.

  “Sadly, I cannot find one like that. Is there another ring you’d like?”

  “It’s okay. Thanks for looking,” Paloma said. She glanced over by the churro stand and tugged on her medallion. Neither Gael nor Lizzie was there.

  “You wear an eagle warrior around your neck. Did the boy with the black hat give it to you?”

  “How did you know?”

  “He bought two of them from me, and now he only wears one,” she answered. “I notice these things because he was one of my first customers. He told his sister that they were going to need protection. He bought the Aztec warriors. She bought a gold crucifix. I gave them a good price because I could tell they were desperate.”

  Paloma stepped back, confused. “Desperate? About what?” she asked.

  “Something about their father … Yes, he was going away.”

  Paloma got goosebumps. Why did they buy medallions to protect themselves? What did they need protecting from? When Paloma had first told Gael that she was suspicious of the Fortune-Teller, he hadn’t mentioned that he bought the medallions from her.

  “You should tell them to be careful. You should be careful, too. And I should be going,” the Fortune-Teller said matter-of-factly. “Hasta luego.”

  “What?” Paloma was stunned. As the Fortune-Teller strolled away, a postcard fell from her bag. Paloma rushed to swoop it up and noticed Professor Breton approaching. She almost called out to the Fortune-Teller but thought better of it once she glanced over the postcard. It wasn’t a postcard at all. Professor Breton stepped next to Paloma.

  “Hey, that’s an invitation to Frida’s birthday party. How did a fortune-teller get invited to the party of the year?” he quipped. “Come on, we’re late now.”

  At the restaurant, Paloma’s mom placed a plate of chicken tacos in front of her. Paloma spooned salsa over them and repla
yed in her head the conversation she had with the Fortune-Teller. Why were Gael and Lizzie desperate? Just because their dad was in New York City? It didn’t make sense.

  “Your daughter is looking for a peacock ring,” Professor Breton blurted, causing Paloma to snap out of her thoughts. She rolled her eyes at him.

  “What?” He put his hands up in surrender. “I’m sorry, but I thought that’s what the Fortune-Teller said. She said you wanted a peacock ring, no? I’m sorry. Did I ruin a surprise?”

  “Oh, Paloma. Not the rings again,” her mom said, shaking her head. “Since when did you get so into jewelry? It’s because your twelve now, right? I read about this. Today it’s jewelry. Tomorrow it’ll be eyeliner and lipstick. I swear I’m not ready for any of it.”

  Professor Breton shot her mom a sympathetic look. Paloma took a bite of her chicken taco and watched her mom get worked up. She wanted to tell her that lipstick and eyeliner were the last thing she needed to worry about, but she stayed quiet and swallowed another bite of taco. She had to admit, mystery-solving made her hungry.

  “Well, if you don’t buy her a peacock ring, I’d be happy to buy you one, Paloma. You’ve been an absolute delight to have in my class these past two days.”

  “She has?” Paloma’s mom dropped her taco on her plate.

  “Why do you say it like that, Mom?” Paloma asked with a sour face. “His class is actually not boring.”

  “Thank you, Paloma.” Professor Breton grinned. “You should have seen her in action yesterday. She could have taught a whole course on Frida Kahlo. The other students were in awe. Today, all of them were asking her more about Frida. She’s learned a lot in just the short time she’s been here.”

  “Really?” Paloma’s mom sat back and wiped her mouth with a napkin.

  “Why is that so hard to believe?” Paloma asked. “I told you I’ve been doing productive things and embracing stuff. I’ve been learning all about Frida Kahlo, one of Mexico’s most controversial and talented artists, but all you see is the one night I snuck out for churros.”

  “Well, that was enough!” Paloma’s mom said, dropping her napkin on the table in a dramatic flurry. “I thought I had lost my daughter that night.”

  Paloma sheepishly lowered her head and waited for her mom to take a swig from her bottled water. Scaring her mom filled Paloma with regret, but she knew she’d do it again if it meant catching the Trench Coat Man and finding the peacock ring.

  Later that evening, Paloma’s thoughts swirled. When she got home that afternoon, the black car was no longer there. Relieved, she headed straight for her room, sprawled out on her bed, and took out the invitation the Fortune-Teller had dropped and a blank note card. She wrote down everything she knew about the Fortune-Teller.

  Fortune-Teller

  Clear gray eyes. Dark hair. Speaks Russian. Arrived two weeks ago. Tells fortunes with stones. Sells jewelry. Special rings for serious buyers. Knows Gael and Lizzie. Sold them medallions. Knows I’m looking for a peacock ring. Invited to Frida’s birthday party.

  Could the Fortune-Teller be involved somehow? Paloma wasn’t so sure. Now there were new players in the arena: the Trench Coat Man and whoever was in the black car watching them. Someone had been in the driver’s seat the other night. Who was it? Paloma wrote up another note card and titled it “Black Car.”

  Exhausted from thinking so much, Paloma tucked the card in her bag with the others. Before she went to bed, she wrote Gael a note asking him to meet her during school break. Then, just as her head hit the pillow, Paloma heard the soft hum of a car engine outside. She stooped low, crawled to her window, and peered out. The black car was back.

  As her mom locked the gate behind them the next morning, Paloma spotted the black car parked curbside between two other cars. She moved toward the planter, left her note for Gael, and remained there, pretending to check the plant for bad leaves as she squinted toward the car. She wished she had a pair of binoculars or super-vision powers to see if anyone was inside. Was it the Trench Coat Man? Or was it his driver from the other night? Suddenly, the car pulled out and drove off.

  “What are you doing, Paloma?” Her mom had just noticed that Paloma was clutching a bunch of leaves in her hands. “You’re going to kill that plant.”

  “Just a little light pruning.” Paloma smiled and dropped the leaves.

  “Vamos, little bird. We’re late,” she said. “Are you enjoying your classes? Or has it been like watching people floss?” her mom asked as they walked down the street.

  Paloma giggled. “It’s not so bad. Professor Breton makes it fun. I think he keeps adding more Frida into the class just for me.”

  Her mom chuckled. “He’s a good guy,” she said. “Has he shown you the painting of Frida’s dress hanging in front of a New York City background yet?”

  Paloma shook head. Her mom signaled for the oncoming bus to stop for them, and they got on.

  “No,” Paloma said. “Why?”

  “It was your dad’s favorite Frida Kahlo painting.” Paloma took out a note card from her bag as soon as they found seats on the bus. “Speaking of Frida Kahlo …” her mom started. “We told the Farills that we’d go see the art exhibit in Mexico City with them, but I can’t go. I’m seriously behind on my paper.”

  “Whoa! I forgot all about it,” Paloma said. “I really wanted to go because there’s supposed to be some Frida art.”

  “Well, I called Mrs. Farill last night, and she said they’re still going despite everything that’s happened.”

  “What do you mean? What happened?”

  “Apparently, someone broke into their house this week,” Paloma’s mom said. “Luckily, no one was home and nothing valuable was taken, but the family is shaken.”

  “Poor Tavo,” Paloma said. “What about the dogs?”

  “Everyone was fine. House was empty. Anyway, that’s all I know. You can ask Tavo more about it when you see him this weekend.”

  “So I can go?”

  “If you’re okay going without me. Professor Breton says that I should encourage your interest in art. He says that you’re a natural.” Paloma’s mom nudged her playfully.

  Paloma chuckled. Professor Breton thought she was a natural. She liked how that sounded and couldn’t help but repeat the word with a big grin on her face. “A natural,” she said.

  “I mean, it’s the Farills. They’re lovely people and you get along well with Tavo, right?”

  “Yep!” Paloma leaned in to give her mom a kiss on the cheek. “Can I have my phone back to call Tavo and confirm when they’ll pick me up?”

  “Nice try.” She smirked at Paloma. “I’ll call Mrs. Farill and make the arrangements.”

  In class, Paloma made a point to ask Professor Breton about the painting her mom mentioned was her father’s favorite. He quickly pulled it up on his laptop for the entire classroom.

  “It’s on display at Casa Azul, if you want to see the real thing,” Professor Breton said. She made a mental note to view it the next time she was there.

  At break, Paloma had hoped that Gael and Lizzie would show up, but break time came and went, and there was no sign of them. Paloma wished she could talk to them. She couldn’t stop thinking about what the Fortune-Teller had told her about them wanting protection when their dad left for New York. Paloma knew how it felt to be without a dad, but this was different. Their dad was on a trip to New York. It wasn’t like he’d be gone forever. Why would they be so concerned about protection? Paloma flashed back to when Gael had given her the medallion and told her it would protect her.

  Paloma could barely focus in Spanish class. When the teacher asked her in Spanish what she planned to be when she grew up, Paloma answered, “Papas fritas,” French fries.

  After class, Professor Breton dropped Paloma off at home. Once he was out of sight, she rushed to the planter. Her note to Gael was gone, but he hadn’t left one for her.

  Paloma frowned with disappointment. She looked down the block, and once again, the
black car was sitting there. She felt like rushing it, pounding the window with her fists, and demanding answers. The only thing that kept her from attacking the car was the fact that she wasn’t ready for another rumble with the Trench Coat Man. Not without Lizzie and her trumpet case close by.

  Later that night, Paloma did the next best thing she could think of. After all, Lulu Pennywhistle never let anyone intimidate her. Paloma grabbed a note card and drew a picture of the black car. It wasn’t as nice a sketch as Gael would have done, but it would get the message across. Above it, Paloma wrote, “I see you!”

  The black car was still there. She waved the note card in the air and then buried it in the planter. She felt bold. She felt very Lulu-ish and also a bit Frida-ish.

  “Come and get it,” she said.

  For the trip to the musem, Paloma dressed in her favorite red skinny jeans, a black concert T-shirt, and a long black cardigan sweater. Paloma fixed her hair into a side braid and topped off her outfit with the eagle warrior medallion.

  She found her mom downstairs humming a song in the kitchen, so she raced outside to the planter to see if her “I see you” note was still there. It was gone. The black car was gone, too. She went inside the house feeling victorious. Maybe they got the message and left once and for all.

  She grabbed her mom from behind and gave her a hug.

  “That’s nice, little bird. I haven’t had a hug from you in a long time,” her mom said, spinning around to drop a kiss on Paloma’s forehead. “You’ve got your spending money from your grandparents?”

  Paloma patted her bag. “It’s all here,” she said.

  “Good! Don’t go crazy spending all your pesos at once. We still have three weeks here.”

  “I won’t.” Paloma smiled. “Are you working on your paper all day?”

 

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