by Lin Oliver
“Well, all I know is that Alicia wasn’t in school today and I have to find out what’s going on.”
“Just call her on her cell phone and ask her,” Lauren said.
“She doesn’t have one.”
“You’ve got to be kidding!” Lauren gasped. “How does a person survive without a cell phone? I know I couldn’t.”
“You don’t think anything happened to Alicia, do you?” Charlie asked. She sounded concerned, and I was glad to hear it. Not that I wanted her to be worried, but it was good to see her acting like a real human without considering what Lauren would think.
“I don’t know, I’m going to her house to check.”
“What am I supposed to tell Dad?”
“Figure something out. I’ll call you when I know what’s happening.”
As I turned to go, I nearly bumped into Brooke and the General, who were approaching the table.
“Well, look who’s decided to join the human race and get a Starbucks,” the General said to me. “It’s about time.”
Brooke laughed like he had said the cleverest thing in the world.
“Since when is drinking a Frappuccino a qualification to be in the human race?” I snapped at him.
Charlie put her hand on my shoulder and gave me a little shove.
“Just go,” she whispered. “Now.”
She didn’t have to ask twice. I took off for the bus stop, and luckily, the Number 86 was pulling up just as I got there. I climbed aboard and took the only seat left, next to a man in a straw cowboy hat who was sound asleep with his earbuds in. I could hear the music leaking out of them. Someone was singing in Spanish, a really lively upbeat song with lots of trumpets in the background. It was the kind of music Candido always listened to when he did the gardening at the Sporty Forty. He told me once that music and pineapple made his corazón happy. Of course, then he had to explain to me that corazón means heart in Spanish. After that, I noticed that whenever he spoke to Esperanza, he called her mi corazón. You have to admit, that’s pretty romantic, for grown-up married people.
I transferred to the 187 bus and rode it all the way to Palms, where Alicia lives. I got off at Walpole Street and hurried down the block to her apartment. I ran up to the second floor, and knocked on the door of apartment number 206. There was a loud cry from inside, and then the door flew open. Ramon, Alicia’s four-year-old brother, was standing there in his underpants and a blue cape.
“I’m Spider-Man,” he screamed. “And I’m going to get you.”
Then he pounced on my leg and started making buzzing noises around my ankles. Ramon’s only four, so I assumed it was okay that he didn’t know that bees buzz and spiders don’t. I decided to pass on the science lesson.
“Ramon,” Alicia’s grandmother said, coming to the door. “Basta!”
She doesn’t speak much English, but she’s really nice. She beckoned for me to come in—there didn’t seem to be anyone else home.
“Where’s Alicia?” I asked her.
“She’s been captured by Spider-Man,” Ramon yelled. “He’s stinging her in the butt!”
“Hey, niño, watch your words,” said a voice from the bedroom doorway. It was Eddie, shuffling out. He looked like he had been napping. Once he was in the living room, he grabbed Ramon in his arms and wrestled him to the floor in a really playful way. Ramon giggled at the top of his lungs.
“You can tell Ramon has been around Oscar too much,” Eddie said while Ramon rolled around on the floor laughing. “All he talks about now is superheroes.”
“Is Alicia here?” I asked him.
“No,” he said. “She’s with Oscar. At the hospital.”
“The hospital? Is he okay? Is she okay? I mean, is everybody okay?”
“Oscar is seeing the doctors. About his leg. They took Alicia because she speaks good English. And I got to stay here to nap!”
Of course, that made perfect sense. I started to feel some relief—maybe she wasn’t as mad as I’d thought. Maybe she hadn’t called because she was just busy. Still, I wanted to talk to her and make sure.
“You can wait for her here,” Eddie said. I sat down on the couch and Alicia’s grandmother brought me a sugar cookie she had just baked. Ramon grabbed it and licked all the sugar off the top, then told me I could have the rest.
Call me picky, but I have a policy against eating food that has already been licked by someone else.
“No, thanks,” I told him.
Eddie sat down next to me. Then he got up quickly and pulled out a piece of paper that was crunched up in the space between the cushions.
“Oscar is always leaving his drawings around,” he complained.
“Can I see it?”
He handed me the sheet of paper. It was a great drawing of Captain America, his red-white-and-blue costume looking just like it did in the movie. He was running across a bridge that was on fire, carrying a blond girl in his arms. The caption under it said, “He saves Sammie from the flames.”
I studied the girl in the drawing to see if she really looked like me.
“Oscar came back from your party the other night and started drawing pictures of you,” Eddie said. “But he is not happy with them.”
“Why?”
“He says he cannot draw a girl as pretty as you are,” Eddie said.
Ramon made a sound like he was throwing up. “Eeuuwww,” he gagged. “Mushy stuff makes me sick.”
He continued to fake gag until I thought he actually might barf. Eddie decided it was best to change the subject, and I was all for it. The last thing I wanted was for Ramon to get any ideas about Oscar and me. Besides, nothing was going on between us anyway.
At least, I don’t think anything is going on. But then, I wouldn’t really know what it would feel like if something was going on. Or would I?
“Tell me about Lily,” Eddie said, much to my relief.
“What do you want to know about her?”
Ramon stopped gagging and returned to buzzing around my ankle. He’s usually pretty wild, or as Alicia likes to say, energetic … but when he’s had sugar, there’s no stopping him. I ignored his buzzing the best I could.
“Everything,” Eddie answered.
“Well, she’s more Charlie’s friend than mine, so I can’t tell you much about her. I know that her full name is Lily March. She modeled for the Gap catalog a couple of times. She loves to sew. Her dad is African American and he’s a big-time record producer. Her mom is from Hawaii and designs bathing suits. Let’s see. She’s got a half-decent forehand, but no backhand whatsoever. What else do you want to know?”
“Do you think she loves me?” Eddie asked. I looked at his face to see if he was joking around. He wasn’t.
“Listen, Eddie, I don’t know how things work in San Francisco Gotera,” I began carefully, “but here in Santa Monica, things don’t move quite that fast. We take it pretty easy on the love thing. We tend to like people for a while before we love them.”
“But Lily, she told me she loves my smile,” he said. “She said loves, not likes.”
“Yeah, well, love is an expression we use a lot here in America. Like, I say I love strawberry frozen yogurt but that doesn’t mean I’m in love with it. You understand? I think Lily was using love more in the strawberry frozen yogurt way.”
“I think you are wrong, Sammie.”
Maybe I was wrong. Maybe Lily had totally flipped for Eddie and was head over heels in love with him. But I felt I needed to warn Eddie against getting his feelings hurt.
“Just take things slowly,” I said to him. “There are things about those kids you don’t understand.”
“That is just what I told Oscar today,” he said. “Only I said it about you.”
“About me? What could there be about me that he doesn’t understand?”
“That maybe you’re like those rich kids, too,” Eddie said. “Maybe you pretend to like him more than you really do.”
“No, I’m not like the kids at the beach cl
ub, Eddie. I say exactly what I feel and I always try to tell the truth. They play more games than I do.”
“Like volleyball?”
“No. I mean yes, they do play more volleyball. But I was talking about social games. Like, who’s popular and who isn’t. You know, which person is the flavor of the week.”
“Flavor? Are you talking about strawberry yogurt again, Sammie?”
I sighed. You don’t realize how many local expressions you use until you talk to someone from another country. No wonder they say lots of stuff gets lost in translation. I heard Alicia’s voice on the stairs outside, calling out to Ramon and her grandmother. She pushed open the apartment door and came in, followed by Candido. She was genuinely surprised when she saw me sitting on the couch.
“Sammie! What are you doing here?” she asked.
“I was worried.”
“About what?”
“Well, it started because I couldn’t reach you on the phone, and then you weren’t at school and I thought you were mad about what happened at the club yesterday.”
“I was mad,” she said. “They were the rudest people I’ve ever met. But that had nothing to do with you.”
“So you weren’t upset that I played the match instead of coming with you guys?”
“I understood. I wouldn’t want to say no to your dad, either.”
“Hola, Sammie!” Oscar said, coming through the apartment door a little out of breath but with a big smile on his face. It was hard work for him to climb the stairs. His left leg really couldn’t handle much strain, so for him, walking up stairs was almost like having to hop the whole way.
“We have good news,” he said, still breathing hard. “Tell them, Alicia.”
“Well,” she began, “we spent the whole day at Children’s Hospital. We met with Dr. Mandel and three other doctors, too. They took X-rays and even put Oscar in a giant metal doughnut to take special pictures of his bones.”
“You are taking too long,” Oscar interrupted. “The good news is, the doctor can fix my leg.”
“Wowee-kazowee!” Ramon cried, jumping up and down. “Then you’ll be able to run really fast like the Flash!”
“I will be faster than the Flash.” Oscar laughed. “I will be the fastest man alive! I will have speed force!”
He hunkered down like he was going to take off on a race, and assuming a superhero pose, extended one arm out in front of him and the other behind. But he lost his balance and toppled over on his side. Ramon didn’t care. He jumped right on top of him shouting, “Speed force! Speed force!” If you ask me, it was the sugar cookie that was in full force.
“Calm down, Ramon,” Alicia said. “Oscar isn’t going to be fixed overnight. It’s going to take a little while.”
“How long?” Eddie asked.
“Well, he’ll have the operation next Tuesday,” Alicia explained. “He’ll have to be in a cast for a while, and then do physical therapy. But soon, his leg will be normal and he won’t have a clubfoot anymore.”
“After all these years, my nephew will be well,” Candido said. “Dr. Mandel is our angel. For all this, he charges us nothing.”
There were tears in his eyes.
I felt so happy I thought my heart was going to burst. I was proud, too. Proud of my country for allowing Oscar to come here to get the medical attention he needed so badly. Proud of my city for having a wonderful place like Children’s Hospital. I even felt proud of the Sporty Forty for having a member as kind and generous as Dr. Mandel.
“When my leg is better, I’m going to buy a shirt with a big collar and come to that club and play tennis with you,” Oscar said, putting his arm out so I could help him up off the floor.
I reached out and took his hand and pulled him to his feet. But even after he was upright, he didn’t let go. And I didn’t take my hand away, either. We just stood there, holding hands.
“Tell me, Sammie,” Eddie whispered. “Do you think this is strawberry frozen yogurt? Or the other thing?”
I wasn’t sure what it was. The only thing I knew was that Oscar’s hand was strong and warm, and it felt really nice to share that amazing moment with him.
Really nice.
The Governor
Chapter 8
On the bus ride home, I was so happy for Oscar that I didn’t even think about what I was going to tell my dad. That changed when I got off the bus and ran (that’s right, I actually ran) the four blocks from the bus stop to the beach club. I considered at least ten different stories about why I hadn’t come home directly from school. They ranged from the very specific, such as I went to the library to research my science project on the endangered hairy-eared dwarf lemur of Madagascar, to the very weird, such as I witnessed the landing of a neon-green alien spacecraft on the beach. In the end, I decided to tough it out and go with the truth. My dad is expert at rooting out the truth, anyway.
As I approached the whitewashed fence that borders the Sporty Forty Club, I saw two black-and-white police cars with flashing red lights in our parking lot. My mind started to race—what awful thing could have happened that required the police? I thought of that day a few months before when GoGo had gotten into a car accident and had to be rushed to the hospital. Oh no, I thought. I hope everyone is okay.
I pushed open the gate and ran inside, my heart pounding. My dad was standing on the deck talking with four uniformed officers. Charlie and Ryan were there, too. I scanned their faces anxiously to see if they looked worried. Charlie looked normal, happy actually, and Ryan was eating a banana. That was reassuring. If some terrible tragedy had occurred, he probably wouldn’t just be standing there shoving a banana into his face, although knowing Ryan and his bottomless appetite, it certainly wasn’t out of the question.
“Ah, here comes my other daughter, Sammie,” my dad said to the officers as I slammed the gate shut. His voice turned icy. “I was expecting her some time ago.”
I glanced at Charlie to try to get some idea of what she had told him.
“Esperanza leaked that you were at her house,” she said with a shrug. “So I told him the truth.”
“Wow, imagine that,” Ryan commented, although with his mouth full of banana it sounded like “Ahmugga phat.” Our mom has been telling him since forever not to talk with his mouth full. Of course, he eats constantly, so if he waited until his mouth was empty, he’d never say anything.
“I had to check on Alicia,” I told my dad. “She took Oscar to the hospital.”
“I hear they scheduled his operation,” he said.
“How’d you know?”
“Esperanza told me that, too. I suggest, Sammie, that if you’re going to break the rules, you should attempt to control your information sources more carefully.”
“So we’ve got ourselves a little rule breaker here,” one of the officers said, turning to me and sizing me up. “You better watch that, honey. You’ve got law enforcement on the premises, you know.”
I think he meant that as a joke, but even if he did, it was a pretty marginal attempt at humor. Under the circumstances, I thought the best course of action was to change the topic entirely.
“So what’s going on here?” I asked. “Did Ryan rob a bank or something?”
“You’re not going to believe this,” Charlie said. “The governor of California is coming here. To this very spot.”
She pointed down at her feet and I noticed that her lime-green toenail polish was half chipped off. If the governor of California was coming to that very spot, my sister was going to have to get an emergency pedicure, that’s for sure.
“Why is the governor coming here? Did we forget to pay our taxes?”
The other police officer, whose badge read K. BESWICK, gave out a hearty laugh.
“She’s a funny one,” he said to my dad. “Lots of personality.”
“A little too much if you ask me,” Ryan added.
“Which we didn’t,” Charlie and I both said in unison.
“Kids today,” the first
officer with the crackerjack sense of humor said. I noticed that the name on his badge read C. PORTER. “Mine squabble like that incessantly. Watch out, you three, or I’ll arrest you for disturbing the peace.”
Again, he said it with a straight face, but this time I could tell he was kidding when he cracked himself up after he said it.
Note to self: Police humor leaves something to be desired.
“So what’s this about the governor?” I asked quickly, before he could crack another mediocre joke.
“She’s attending the event here Saturday night,” Officer Beswick said. “We’re checking out security.”
“Apparently, when Governor Corday heard about Tom Ballard’s fund-raiser for the schools, she decided to make an appearance,” our dad said.
“You know politicians,” Officer Beswick said. “They can sniff out a photo opportunity five hundred miles away.”
Wow, this was just like in the movies when the Secret Service comes to see if it’s safe for the president’s helicopter to land—only better. This was for real.
“Mind if we have a look in the house?” Officer Porter asked my dad. “I promise I won’t lift anything.”
He cracked up again. Wow, this guy was his own best audience.
“Not at all. Let me show you around.” My dad led the way into our bungalow and both officers followed.
“Watch out for my wet suit on the bathroom floor,” Ryan called after them. “You might want to wear a gas mask. It’s been known to harbor some serious mold.”
Once they were inside, Charlie grabbed both my hands and started to jump up and down.
“Do you know what this means?” she asked, practically bursting with joy.
“Yeah, that a really important person is coming to our house,” I answered. It wasn’t the most creative observation, but it did seem to answer the question.
“No, you dork!” she said. “I mean yes, but no.”
“Crystal-clear thinking, as always, Charles,” Ryan commented.
“You have one of those banana stringy things hanging from your lip,” I pointed out, partly to silence him and partly because I think it’s a family member’s duty to point it out immediately when you have food on your face.
