“Exercise,” I said. It sounded good enough. “Listen, I need your help. My dad wants me to come up with ideas to make us look more attractive to visitors.”
“Wash your face.”
“I’m serious.”
“Yeah, yeah. My parents are coming up with ideas too. They haven’t asked for help, so I got plenty of extra ideas to spare.” She sat silent for several minutes.
“So? What are all your spare ideas?”
“Hmmmn, sell dog cookies.”
“That makes about as much sense as building a pyramid in the middle of Pig Park.”
“Very funny. No, listen. You can just add it to the stuff Burciaga’s already makes. People with money love to pay for things they don’t need. There’s no other way to explain truffles and charter flights to the moon. Dogs will eat their own poop, but people will pay for dog cookies.”
“You’re nuts.” How did she come up with these things?
“Your dad can make a canine version of your pastries. You can sell Burciaga’s dog T-shirts and let people come in with their dogs to pick out their favorite treat.”
“The health code inspectors will have a field day with that.” I’d never even been allowed to have a pet. “Well, what if we got people T-shirts? We could get nice shirts made for us with our name embroidered on them. We’ll look more professional. I’m going home to tell my dad.” I pedaled away.
“That’s fine too,” she yelled from the stoop. “Maybe.”
Chapter 26
My dad and Felix sat on the stools in front of the counter. I hovered at arm’s length. My right foot tap-danced. I grabbed the coffee pot handle and poured coffee into their mugs, stirring in evaporated milk and sugar.
I didn’t want Felix to think that I was just some dumb kid. Of course, I still longed for my mom to come back, but there wasn’t much I could do. I finally had a chance to make a real difference this summer. Maybe I could actually help save the bakery and Pig Park. Josefina would have to stick around. No more licking envelopes.
“Masi, tell Felix what you told me,” my dad said.
I put the coffee pot back in its place and picked up the sugar bowl. The spoon clinked against the porcelain. I clasped my forefinger around it. “I thought we could order shirts with the bakery’s name and our names embroidered on them. It would make us look more professional.”
Felix scribbled into his notebook. “That’s fantastic. See. I knew you’d have something good.”
“Thank you.” I stood a little straighter and felt more at ease. I hadn’t made a fool of myself.
“What happens now?” my dad asked.
“I’m going to finish talking to all of the businesses. There’s a neighborhood meeting in a week. I’ll present everyone’s ideas there. That’ll be your chance to come together and discuss which suggestions the larger group can also benefit from.”
“Are you nervous?”
Felix chuckled. “Only a little.”
My dad laughed too. Their laughter rang in my ears. I put the sugar and milk away. I grabbed a dish rag and wiped down the counters. I tuned out the rest of the conversation.
The boys had made a great deal of progress with the pyramid. I thought about what Pig Park would be like with all those new people coming. Maybe they wouldn’t all be new. Maybe some of the old Pig Park residents like Otto would return. That would make Josefina happy. It would be like the American Lard Company never left. They would even reopen our old school.
“Masi,” my dad called. I woke up from the daydream. “Grab the computer when you’re done. Felix is going to show you some websites.”
I pulled the laptop from its drawer and waited for it to turn on. My dad pushed his stool back. The metal legs scraped against the floor. He excused himself into the kitchen.
Felix leaned into the computer. His campfire smell hung in the air. I held my breath. I giggled for no reason at all.
Felix got closer and typed something. “There,” he said. “This is a good site for supplies. It’s affordable, and they offer free shipping. Never pay for shipping.”
“Okay,” I said. “How do you know all this anyway?”
“Experience.”
“But you’re smart too.”
“Well, they didn’t let me skip a few grades for nothing. Just kidding. My mom pushed for that. I wanted to stay with my friends in the fourth grade. I guess it worked out. I’ll get out of school faster and be able to work sooner.”
“Is college hard?” I asked. No one I knew had gone away to college. They’d just gone away.
His eyes focused on the computer screen as he typed in a different web address. “There’s one more website…College is work, but if you work hard you’ll do well. You’re smart too. You don’t seem afraid of work either.”
I reached for the laptop to look at the website he pulled up. My hand brushed his. I let it to sit there. He smiled. The corners of my mouth pushed up against my cheeks.
“She had straight A’s at American Academy. She was top of her class,” my dad said from behind us.
I jumped back and stuck my hand in my pocket. “It was a small school,” I said. I looked away feeling a little embarrassed.
“She’s a modest one. It was the best charter school in the city,” my dad said. “Anyway, don’t mind me. I’m just walking through. Have a good night, Felix.”
Felix gazed across the room out the window. “I should get going too. I didn’t realize how late it was.”
My dad followed Felix to the front door. “Felix, when you have a chance, I have another project you might be able to help with. We can test your chemistry chops,” he said.
Felix smiled and nodded. “Sure thing.” He waved goodbye to me and took off.
My dad locked the door and disappeared upstairs
I smiled at the thought of our hands touching. All this face-to-face with Felix meant I had something new to obsess about. The phone rang one, two…six times. I ignored it.
Chapter 27
I hadn’t slept all night just thinking about the neighborhood meeting. Would Felix tell everyone about my idea? My stomach was a knot. I changed three times before pulling on a T-shirt and pair of shorts straight from the dryer.
“Ready?” I asked my dad. He rolled his eyes and laughed. “What?”
“I’ve been standing by the door for half an hour.” I pinched his arm. He laughed even harder until I was laughing too, and there were tears in our eyes.
We cut through the park and paused. I stared at the pyramid. Its mismatch of brick and protruding corners had now reached the top. It really was as magnificent as one those sculptures downtown. “Wow.”
“Wow,” my dad repeated. He stopped and looked at it as if we were seeing it for the first time. He probably was. He’d probably never stopped to look at it before. I felt the same sense of awe. I wanted to pat myself on the back, even though I’d had such a small part in it.
We arrived at Wong’s Taco Shop a few minutes before Felix’s presentation. “Tomás,” Colonel Franco said. My dad sat next to him. I took a chair next to Josefina and Marcos.
“Almost the moment of truth,” I said. I glanced at Felix a few chairs down. Belinda sat next to him. She smoothed her crisp white shirt and blue slacks. She pushed a few runaway wisps of hair into the bun on the back of her head and away from her face.
“She cleans up good,” Marcos said. I elbowed him hard.
Belinda leaned into Felix and whispered something. Felix flashed his beautiful teeth. I thought back to how he had called me smart. But Belinda was a college girl. She knew things I didn’t. I looked away.
“She’s not going to disappear just because you looked away,” Josefina said. She smiled sympathetically, in that way I’d grown used to since the day we’d walked into kindergarten together. I shrugged.
The gathering wasn’t so different from the one where Peregrino had revealed Dr. Vidales Casal’s pyramid idea. Felix moved to the front of the room and cleared his throat. He waited for everyone to sit do
wn.
“Welcome,” he said. “I’ve had the pleasure of speaking to all of you individually. I am very excited to talk about how we can make sure this neighborhood project works for all of you. There is nothing simple about it, but we are going to make sure your project is a success. You have collectively contributed many wonderful ideas. Some I think really only apply to your respective businesses, but there are TWO ideas that we can all start thinking about and apply. My classmate Belinda has worked extensively with Dr. Vidales Casal and played a large role in the Zochimilco of Minnesota project. With no further ado, Belinda will go over our plan this morning.”
Belinda walked to the front of the room with a water bottle in hand.
“Good morning, Belinda,” someone in the back said.
“Good morning, everyone,” Belinda said. “Please just listen and hold your comments until we’ve covered all of our points. Let me start off by saying that I am honored to be here. Felix has told me a great deal about what’s happening and you should be truly proud.” She laughed her loopy laugh and gulped down her water. “FIRST: Many of you have expressed concern about whether people will come, have a look, and go on their way. It doesn’t have to play out that way. We can make it so that people want to stop and really take it all in. We can turn La Gran Pirámide into a museum or gallery of sorts. We can put replicas of historical artifacts in the pyramid, replicate glyphs on the walls, that sort of thing. This means you will now have to work extra hard to also get the inside of the pyramid finished by mid August.
“SECOND: We will market your neighborhood as festive. We’ll promote and celebrate the pyramid’s unveiling, Día de los Muertos, posadas, Cinco de Mayo. All the businesses will put up altars for Day of the Dead. That will give people reasons to come, and your businesses can use the foot traffic to bring in serious money.”
“How are we going to pay to finish the inside of La Gran Pirámide, let alone buy all these things you’re talking about? I sold my car just to pay for the other part of this.” Mr. Wong said.
“He’s right. I already put every last cent I had left on this,” Loretta said. “Besides, we don’t celebrate Cinco de Mayo. That’s just for people who like to get drunk. Don’t get me started on Day of the Dead. It’s disrespectful to try to make money off of our dead. And where are we supposed to get all these ‘historical’ artifacts? Are we supposed to make people think they’re real? Are we building a museum now? I just stood here with my mouth shut last time because we are all so desperate, but not this time.”
“You have concerns. That’s valid,” interrupted that voice from the back. Peregrino slithered out of the shadows. It was only the second time I’d seen him all summer, even after going to his home. “There are a dozen empty storefronts lining the street. Those businesses couldn’t stay open when the neighborhood changed. You have to change with Pig Park or the same will happen to you. These young people are trying to help. You found a way to build La Gran Pirámide. What more are a few walls? Dr. Vidales Casal had the foresight to send Belinda with boxes to help adorn it. Listen to her. Give her a chance.” Peregrino enunciated every syllable in each word carefully. Felix nodded in agreement.
The purpose of the boxes in Peregrino’s warehouse revealed itself. None of it was what I’d expected. I almost forgot about my T-shirt idea. I took a long slow look around the room. My eyes connected with my dad’s. He shrugged.
The room exploded again.
“It could take days just to get the plans revised,” Loretta said.
“It won’t take days. I’ll work as fast as I can. This isn’t exactly a bridge. But I, for one, am not ready to give up now,” Colonel Franco said.
“He’s right. But everyone has to be willing to try,” my dad said. People looked around the room. They argued back and forth for what felt like hours until one person shook their head up and down, then another, and another, and everyone was in agreement.
Peregrino swelled like a peacock. “It’s decided then,” he said. The crowd dispersed in their separate directions. Marcos and the boys headed for the park. I walked to Colonel Franco’s basement with Josefina.
I glanced at the pyramid.
“This is crazy,” Josefina said to me.
“That never stopped us before,” I said.
I couldn’t say it enough. At the very least, this new project meant we would get to spend some more of the summer together—even after the outside walls of the pyramid were done. Maybe it was also our ticket to working outside once and for all. Never mind about the details.
Chapter 28
Colonel Franco slapped ten sealed packs of colored tissue paper and one ream of white copier stock onto the table. “I’m going to teach you how to make papel picado,” he said.
He set a chair next to us, eyes focused, as if he were about to teach us the art of war.
He pulled out a tissue square with the care of someone detonating a bomb. There were images of skeletons on bicycles perforated into the paper. “You will create a series of similar squares to string together. The papel picado will hang like party streamers at La Gran Pirámide’s unveiling and the other celebrations we talked about.”
“Can’t we just go to the party store to get regular party streamers?” Casey asked.
“No, papel picado is a long-honored tradition.”
He laid down a sheet of copy paper and placed a couple of layers of tissue paper on top. He folded it into a paper taco and scored the outer paper with a pencil. He took a pair of scissors and executed a series of small quick cuts along the folded edges.
“Depending on your design, you can fold the paper several more times before cutting. Remember three things.” He snipped away. “Plan your design. You can’t erase a cut. Be careful when pulling the paper apart. Tissue paper is very fragile.” He pulled the paper apart and revealed three skulls cut into the square.
“Boy, you must’ve been the Martha Stewart of the barracks,” I said.
“I wasn’t always a soldier, girls. I’m heading out to set the boys up. I expect to see some progress when I return.” He stood up and left.
I tried to concentrate on the task. Thoughts of Felix invaded. I cut out the name Felix and then quickly hacked my tissue paper to pieces.
“I saw that,” Josefina said.
She cut out a silhouette of a pig’s head that looked half decent, but nowhere near as good as Colonel Franco’s handiwork. The best I came up with was a cutout of a pyramid. It didn’t look any harder than making paper snowflakes, but it was. It was the kind of thing it would take a day just to learn and Colonel Franco hadn’t been very thorough with his teaching.
It took many failed attempts to get even a few usable pieces. We folded and glued the top edges of the finished pieces over string. We spaced the pieces a few inches apart to create a flag effect.
I sliced my fingers twice: once with the scissors, the second time on the edge of the copy paper. “We better go ask Colonel Franco for bandaids,” Josefina said. We ran out to the park to find him.
A series of four-by-fours sat propped along the exterior of the pyramid. The frame had built in studholes, but with all those angles, maybe it seemed impossible. Colonel Franco and the boys stood there and stared at the puzzle pieces.
A paleta man had set up across the street making a business of it all.
“Let’s not interrupt them. It’s stopped bleeding,” I said. I held up my fingers. “Let’s go back.”
“No, let’s stay for a while.”
Josefina walked over to the paleta man and returned with a treat for us both. We lapped at the mango and milk popsicles and watched Colonel Franco and the boys.
“Go back inside,” Colonel Franco commanded when he caught sight of us standing around. “And, don’t get that stuff on the paper.”
We returned to the basement and arrived just in time for a full-blown stare-down between Casey and Stacey. They were like two beasts straight out of the Animal Planet. Casey dragged her chair across the room, away fro
m Stacey, and next to us. Stacey collected all of the discarded paper and cut it into tiny bits until there was a large mound of confetti in front of her.
“Quit it,” I said.
“I’m sick of her acting like a baby,” Casey said.
“I’ve had it with her bossing me around,” Stacey said over her.
Stacey pushed herself up in a huff and stood behind Casey. She held her fists over Casey’s head. Instead of pounding down, she showered handfuls of confetti on her, like it was New Years or Easter or something. The humidity had softened the product in Casey’s hair, so the confetti stuck to her head like a paper mache helmet.
“Oooh,” Casey yelled. She stood with her knees slightly bent, a lioness about to pounce. I don’t know why, but I picked up the large glue bottle. Josefina closed her eyes and shook her head. I mustered all my strength, and flung it across the room. It hit the wall and burst on contact. Glue splattered all over: on the furniture, on our arms, on our hair, on our clothes.
Josefina’s eyes opened wide, and she stared at me. No words.
Stacey reached out and grabbed more confetti with both her fists and flung it into the air. The rest of us followed suit.
It rained confetti.
Colonel Franco walked in on us. He put his two fingers between his lips and let loose a human car horn.
We stopped. There was complete silence.
He cracked a smile. “Looks like you guys broke the piñata without me,” he said. The room exploded into laughter. “Since we’ve already begun the celebration, this is as good a time as any to tell you that I’ve decided I’m moving you back outside so you can help the boys with the walls. You start on Monday. Clean up in here before you leave.”
I applauded. Working outside with the boys couldn’t possibly be any less hazardous than an unsupervised basement. Casey and Stacey would get some space from each other. Josefina and I would get some sunshine. The boys would get some real help.
My face felt like it was about to split in half.
Pig Park Page 8
