Past the games, they came across a bizarre figure of a man who called himself the Midway Barker. The Midway Barker appeared to be the head and upper body of a man, resting on a pole. He had arms, but the rest of his body below his chest was missing. The Midway Barker jokingly explained to the crowd that he had been part of a magic trick where he had been sawed in half. Now he couldn’t find his other half. He made dumb cracks like, “I’m not half the man I used to be,” and “I tried out as a halfback for the Dallas Cowboys, but they cut me.”
Rawly and Nevin knew the Midway Barker was an illusion, but even as they circled around him, they couldn’t figure out the trick.
They left the Midway Barker and made their way to the food concession stands behind the Cotton Bowl. Rawly bought a corny dog. Nevin decided to try the fried guacamole bites.
“How was Miriam’s wedding?” Rawly asked.
Nevin dipped a breaded ball of guacamole in ranch dressing and popped it in his mouth. “About as exciting as a snail’s race, dude. It lasted forever. And my mom cried the whole time.” Nevin pushed the fried guacamole basket in front Rawly. “Taste one. They’re pretty good.”
Rawly shook his head. “Thanks, but I’ll stick to the real stuff we serve at the restaurant.” He took another bite of his corny dog.
“I really needed you to be with me at the wedding, Rawls,” Nevin said peevishly. “Especially at the reception. You could’ve rescued me from my uncle Oscar. Uncle Oscar’s hitting ninety, and he can’t remember a thing. Every ten minutes or so, he’d come up to me and ask, “You been to Monterrey? I’ve been to Monterrey. Beautiful town, Monterrey.”
“Have you been to Monterrey?” Rawly asked.
“No, but Uncle Oscar has. Ask him. He’ll be more than happy to tell you all about it.” Nevin laughed. “And don’t get me started on my aunt Aurelia.”
Rawly licked the mustard off his fingers that had dripped from his corny dog. “So what’s this guy like that Miriam married? What’s his name? David?”
“Yeah. My dad thinks David’s a real loser, a schlemiel. He doesn’t like it that David keeps changing jobs. David says he’s trying to move up, but my dad thinks David keeps getting fired from all the places he’s worked.”
Behind Nevin’s shoulder, Rawly saw Cruz Vega and his friends walking toward them. “Come on, Nevin. Let’s go.”
“But I’m not through eating, dude. What’s your hurry?”
“Don’t look now, but Cruz Vega and some other goons from Jerks R Us are headed this way.”
Cruz and his friends stopped at their table.
“You’re the kid from La Chichen-Itza, aren’t you?” Cruz asked.
Without looking up, Rawly muttered, “Yeah.” He figured Cruz had come by to harass him about the news stories.
“What’s your name?” Cruz asked.
Rawly gnawed on the corny dog stick and finished the last remnants of the batter. “Rawly.”
Cruz grinned. “Oh, yeah, like the capital of Maryland.”
Rawly finally looked up. “No, it’s Rawly as in R-A-W-L-Y.”
“Saw you on TV, man,” Cruz said, now sounding serious. He raised a fist.
Instinctively, Rawly drew back before realizing what Cruz was doing. Rawly smiled nervously. He balled his hand and tapped it against Cruz’s.
“That took a lot of guts to do what you did,” Cruz said. “Good job, man.”
“Yeah, good job,” his friends echoed. They banged fists with Rawly, too.
Nevin put up his fist, but no one tapped it. He lowered his hand and said, “Hola, señores. Me llamo Nevin Steinberg. Soy amigo de Rawly.”
Big Feo scowled at him. “What’s your problem, man? You think we don’t speak English?”
“No, of course not,” Nevin said. “As a matter of fact, you speak it quite well. I was merely trying to converse with you as an hermano. That’s what Rawly and I are. Hermanos. We’re Jumex. You know, Jew and . . . ”
“You ain’t my brother,” Big Feo growled. “You ain’t even Mexican. Don’t call me your brother, baboso.”
Cruz held him back. “Cálmate, Juan. Quiero hablar con el otro.” He turned to Rawly and said, “I saw your interview on the Channel 12 News.”
“That was my first one,” Rawly said proudly. “I’ve done a bunch more since then.”
Cruz sat down. “So, I guess you know that reporter pretty good.”
Rawly shrugged. “I wouldn’t say we’re friends or anything, but . . . ”
“And if you asked her to introduce you to the other people on the Channel 12 News, she’d do it. Right?”
Rawly looked at him curiously. “I don’t know. Like who?”
“Like the guy who does the sports, Jackhammer Jones,” Cruz said.
Nevin balled up his paper napkin and tossed it into the trash barrel. “Yes! Two points!” He smiled at Cruz and said, “Did you know that Jeremiah Jones used to play for the Denver Broncos? He got the nickname ‘Jackhammer’ because . . . ”
“We know,” Big Feo said, annoyed.
“I used to play football, you know,” Nevin said. “That’s how I broke my nose. Listen.” He twisted his nose and made a cracking sound with his mouth.
Big Feo pointed a thumb at Nevin and asked, “Who’s this clown?”
“Clown?” Nevin said indignantly. “Dudes, I’m on your side.” He held up an index finger. “I’m the Bisons’ number-one fan. I’m on Cru-u-u-z control, baby! Wooo!”
“¿Quieres ir con nosotros, Rawly?” Cruz asked, ignoring Nevin. “We’ll show you how to have a good time.”
Big Feo snorted. “It’s better than hanging out with this clown.”
Rawly looked at Nevin. He thought back to all the times Nevin had dumped him. To the times he had made him look foolish. To the times he had embarrassed him in front of Miyoko. Let’s see how Nevin liked being mistreated for a change. Anyway, this was Rawly’s chance to be with some real cool guys. Now that he was a hero, he didn’t need to hang out with this loser—this schlemiel.
He rose from his seat.
Nevin looked at him, confused. “Hey Rawls, where are you going?”
“With them.”
Nevin grabbed his umbrella and started to get up.
“Sit down!” Big Feo ordered. “Nobody invited you.”
Nevin gave Rawly a pitiful look of appeal.
Rawly smiled shamelessly. “See ya. Wouldn’t wanna be ya!” he mocked in a singsong voice before walking off with his new friends.
CHAPTER TWENTY
“You’re not gonna forget, are you?” Cruz asked.
Rawly opened the passenger door of the front seat of Cruz’s car and slid out. He grabbed his stuffed Pink Panther toy from the back. “No, I’ll remember.”
Cruz flashed an alligator smile. “’Cause we got a deal, right?”
“Right,” Rawly answered uncomfortably.
“Órale. We’ll be talking.” Cruz raised his fist and Rawly bumped it with his.
Inside the house, Rawly tossed his Pink Panther toy on the reclining chair and slumped on the couch, exhausted. He had been on his feet for almost nine hours. He slipped off his shoes and socks and rested his legs on the ottoman.
He’d had a great time with Cruz and the other guys—Big Feo, Hector Puentes, Ruben Macías and Eddie Luna. They had gotten on a few rides, including The Slingshot, a ride Nevin had been too chicken to try.
Rawly learned that Eddie Luna was a huge comic book fan. At first, Rawly was skeptical of Eddie’s comic book knowledge until Eddie mentioned Eleventh Hour Comics, an independent publishing company that featured quirky titles, such as The Adventures of Lila Despot and Girdle Boy. Eddie said he shopped at Heroes & Villains, but Rawly had never seen him there.
The guys all agreed that La Chichen-Itza was the best Mexican restaurant in Dallas, and they told Rawly how lucky he was that his mom owned it.
At the fair, Cruz introduced Rawly to a bunch of girls they ran into. When Cruz told them who Rawly was, the girls mobbed Rawl
y and asked tons of questions about Nikki Demetrius. A slender, athletic girl named Linda (she pronounced it Leen da), who called Rawly papi, made him promise that he would get her an autographed picture of Nikki Demetrius.
Cruz also invited Rawly to a victory party he was hosting Friday night after their game. Cruz called it a victory party because the Bisons were playing the Dallas North Bobcats, a team with a 0 and 7 record, and it was a given that they were going to demolish the Bobcats.
Rawly stretched on the couch and clasped his hands behind his head. He’d had a terrific weekend. The Dallas Morning News had written two follow-up stories about him. The TV gossip shows continued to feature stories about Nikki Demetrius’s accident, and Rawly had been seen by millions of viewers. He had finally gone out on a date with Miyoko—a short one to Jack in the Box—but a date, nonetheless. He had also made friends with some of North Oak Cliff High’s star football players. Rawly had even paid Nevin back for the way he had been treating him.
So why did he feel uneasy, like he had just made a deal with the devil?
The door opened. Rawly’s mother walked in and joined him on the couch. Her clothes smelled of Mexican food and tortilla chips.
“How was the fair?” she asked. “Did you and Nevin have fun?”
“It was okay. We, um, got on a few rides, walked around, ate. You know, the usual stuff.” Rawly didn’t feel he was lying, because that’s exactly what he and Nevin had done before they met up with Cruz Vega and his friends.
“I got a call today from Mr. Randall, the spokesperson for the Demetrius family,” Rawly’s mother said. “He told me that Nikki Demetrius is still recovering from her injuries. She has a separated shoulder, a sprained back, torn ligaments in her ankle and a broken nose. Plus, she had to have stitches for a cut on her forehead.”
“Man, that’s brutal,” Rawly said. “Especially with her being a model and everything.”
“Yes, but it could’ve been worse, you know. A lot worse. If it wasn’t for you, that girl would’ve died.” Rawly’s mother crossed herself. “And Rawly, you could’ve died, too.”
“But I didn’t,” Rawly said. “Everything turned out okay.”
“The fact is, you risked your life to save hers.”
By the tone in his mother’s voice, Rawly could tell that she was leading up to something.
“The Demetriuses are very rich, Rawly,” she said. “They have diamond stores all over the country, in cities like New York, Chicago, Los Angeles and three here in Dallas.” Rawly’s mother sat up. “This morning, I Googled Nikki Demetrius’s name. Do you know that by the time she was your age, she had made over fifteen million dollars working as a model? Fifteen million dollars!”
Rawly chuckled. “I knew I was in the wrong business. Instead of cleaning tables, I should’ve been working as a model.”
“Rawly, don’t laugh,” his mother said harshly. “This isn’t funny.”
“So she’s rich. Big deal.”
“It is a big deal,” his mother said. “You saved her life. And you almost got yourself killed doing it. I would say that’s worth something, wouldn’t you?”
Rawly’s smile disappeared. “What are you trying to say, Mom?”
She cracked her knuckles. “Rawly, you know how much we’ve struggled financially. I try. I try real hard. But I can’t ever seem to get ahead. Jaime’s accident took just about every penny I had. And I’m not through paying for it. I still get doctor bills and lawyer bills.” Her eyes filled with tears. “It’s not fair. I didn’t ask for any of this. Your daddy’s gone, Jaime’s gone and I don’t have anyone to help me. They owe you, Rawly. The Demetrius family owes you for what you did.”
Rawly gasped. “Mom, we can’t ask them for money.”
Her face hardened. “Why not?”
“Because that would be, I don’t know, wrong.”
“No, Rawly. It’s an answered prayer.” His mother gazed across the room at the crucifix hanging above the television. “You don’t know how many times I’ve fallen on my knees at night, praying for a miracle. Rawly, this is it! My prayers have been answered.”
Rawly got up from the couch. Sweat trickled down his armpits. “Mom, don’t make me do this. I didn’t save Nikki Demetrius’s life for money. And even if I could charge her, how much would I ask for? A thousand? Ten thousand? A million dollars?”
His mother took his hand and drew him back down. “Everything happens for a reason, Rawly. We’ve been needing money. Now we have a chance to get out of our financial situation.” She removed her blazer and draped it over the Pink Panther stuffed toy. “Mr. Randall wants to know if you’ll be available Thursday evening. The Demetrius family wants to thank you personally for what you did, but Nikki’s still not in any condition to leave her house. Mr. Randall said he’d send a car to come pick us up.”
The tension in Rawly’s face eased for a moment. “You mean like in a limo?” He could see himself and Miyoko riding in the back seat of a limousine, being driven to Nikki Demetrius’s mansion by a chauffeur.
“I don’t know. But that’ll be a good time to remind the Demetriuses that their daughter might’ve died if it wasn’t for you. If they have any class, if they have any heart at all, they’ll know how to reward you for it.”
Rawly didn’t like the idea of going to the Demetrius’s house, looking like an opportunist, trying to milk them for money. But he did want to take Miyoko to meet Nikki. “Is it okay if I invite a few friends to go with us?” he asked.
“No, it’ll just be the two of us. Mr. Randall was very specific. No other visitors. And no cameras. Nikki Demetrius doesn’t want the public to see her the way she looks right now.”
There went Rawly’s chance to score points with Miyoko. He hated to disappoint her. He had already promised to take her.
“When we go, let me do the talking,” his mother said. “We need to make sure the Demetriuses understand that you almost lost your life saving that girl’s.”
Rawly couldn’t recall any superheroes who rescued people for money. Granted, some of them, like Batman and Iron Man, were independently wealthy. The Fantastic Four always had plenty of money for Reed Richards’s high-tech gadgets. Spider-Man, on the other hand, was always struggling to pay his bills. Even so, he never set a fee for saving the city from a super villain.
Still, they desperately needed money. The pig story had hurt their business. Some long-time customers had stopped by to ask if it was true that La Chichen-Itza was killing pigs in the kitchen. Despite Rawly’s mother’s assurances that they weren’t, many of those customers didn’t return. But asking the Demetriuses for money? What would his mother say? “Hello, my son saved your daughter’s life. You owe him a million bucks.”
“Mom, I don’t feel good about hitting the Demetrius family up for money,” Rawly said.
“Let’s not talk about that right now,” she said. “It’s late. You’ve got school tomorrow. Get ready for bed. And take your shoes with you.”
Rawly was tired but not sleepy. He went to his bedroom and grabbed a stack of comic books from a box in his closet. He stretched across his bed on his stomach and thumbed through his comics. While he read, superhero catchphrases ran through his mind.
It’s clobberin’ time!
Avengers assemble!
Hulk smash!
Up, up, and away!
Rawly thought he ought to have a catchphrase, too. After all, he was a hero.
Grab it!
That’s what he had shouted at Nikki before he pulled her out of the water.
Grab it! could work as a catchphrase. Okay, so it didn’t have the same ring or excitement as Flame on! But then again, he didn’t have super powers, like the Human Torch.
Rawly imagined carrying a billy club with an extension cable wire hidden inside it, like Daredevil. He would store it in a holster, strapped to his thigh. If someone was drowning, Rawly could whip out his billy club, press a button on it, release the cable wire and yell, “Grab it!” Then he’d pull th
e drowning victim out of the water.
Rawly would hang out at public pools, beaches and lakes, looking for signs of trouble. Lifeguards would have nothing on him.
Maybe he would have special T-shirts made with a picture of his billy club and the words Grab it! written across it. Sid Lundy could sell them at his store.
While Rawly was in the middle of an old Superman comic, he dozed off.
He dreamed he was back at Winnetka Creek. He could see Nikki Demetrius in the murky water drifting toward him. He dropped to his stomach on the bridge floor and dangled his shirt. “Grab it!” he shouted.
Nikki floated closer. Her skin was deathly pale. Her eyes were as red as her lips. Suddenly, she opened her mouth, revealing two rows of pointy, shark-like teeth. She lunged out of the water with her arms stretched and seized Rawly by the throat. His eyes widened with terror. He tried to scream, but his mouth only formed a silent O. He thrashed about the bridge floor, like a fish on dry land, trying to free himself from Nikki’s powerful grasp.
Then he was yanked into the water.
Down, down, down, he sank. Rawly struggled to get free, but Nikki had her fingers locked around his throat.
Think like Batman! Think like Batman!
“Holy predicament, Batman!” he heard Robin’s voice say in his mind.
Holy! That’s it!
Rawly pulled out a small crucifix he wore around his neck. He tore it off its chain and pressed it against Nikki’s forehead. The cross burned her skin with a steaming hiss, like a branding iron. Nikki shrieked savagely, then let Rawly go. She vanished into the darkness of the water.
Rawly quickly swam away. He cut through the thick folds of the creek water and sped to the top. He could see the sun’s blurry image above. Faster! Faster!
As he was about to break through the surface, large tentacles wrapped themselves around his ankles and pulled him back down. He kicked at his feet, trying to free himself, but the tentacles continued to drag him deeper and deeper into the water.
Then Rawly woke up. His bed sheets were twisted around his legs. His room was dark, except for the red numbers on his digital clock and the subtle moonlight that seeped through his mini blinds.
Don't Call Me Hero Page 11
