I shadowed the boys as they rolled the old oven down the street on a pair of skateboards. They lifted it and pushed it into the industrial dumpster outside Belinda’s building. Felix had called my dad and informed him that the dumpster, which lay kitty corner from the park, was paid for. It would save us the disposal fee.
Marcos and the Fernandez brothers went one way. I followed Felix the other way. It wasn’t right for him to kiss me, then ignore me without an explanation. A kiss meant something.
I cut in front of him. “Felix.”
“I’m a little busy, Masi,” he said. He walked faster. I hurried alongside him. “It’s for your own good, Masi. Trust me. It’s better this way.”
“What is it you’re so worried about? No one ever died of a kiss.”
“You’re wrong. Don’t you see this is bigger than a kiss. It’s this whole thing, Masi.”
“What?”
“Forget it.”
“No, you want to say something. So tell me.”
“There are things you don’t know about. I don’t want you thinking Pig Park and La Gran Pirámide are anything less than a priority. I like you, but…”
“You don’t like me enough. Or you changed your mind.”
“That’s not it at all. We’re just getting to know each other that way. Things were different when I first got here, the first time I kissed you. Now, when the Old Goat screws everyone over—when he does, you’re going to hate him. You’re going to hate Belinda. And…you’re going to hate me. I’m not them, but you’re going to hate me anyway, and then we’ll both be sorry.”
“What do you mean when he screws us over?”
“Look, Belinda told me some things. I didn’t want to believe them, but the more I care about you, the more I can’t ignore it.”
“What are you talking about?”
He took a deep breath. “You know the Xochimilco of Minnesota? They got their visitors eventually. By then the businesses had lost so much that they never recovered. Developers came in and bought up the buildings when the original business owners couldn’t afford to pay their taxes. They turned everything into condos, and hardly anyone weathered the storm. That’s why the Old Goat buys the buildings, three in Pig Park so far. That’s where the profit is.”
“When did she tell you?”
“She started telling me one night, but I wouldn’t listen. I should’ve known from the beginning. He isn’t a good man. He’s a devil.”
“You mean figuratively.”
“Semantics.”
“I don’t understand.”
“I could grow horns and a tail, and you still wouldn’t understand. He’s got this way of talking people into doing things and making them feel that it’s right, like he did with my mom. The point is, things aren’t going to turn out the way you or I want them too.”
“Have you told anyone else about this?”
“I haven’t told anyone. I don’t know what we can do at this point. They’ll just shoot the messenger.”
“So no one knows?”
“Jorge Peregrino knows. He’s known from the beginning. He’s a signer.”
“What do you mean?”
“He’s the kind of person who will sign their life away for a buck. Belinda said he owns the building next to the warehouse and a few of the others too. That’s why he made sure to push the plan along when people started to waver.”
My hands clenched into fists at my sides. “If this is true, we have to do something. Talk to my dad at least. You have to say something.”
“It’s not that easy. Everyone is going to hate the Old Goat, and they’re going to hate me.” It dawned on me what Marcos had meant when he said that Felix was not one of us. He was one of them. “Go home, Masi. Just go home,” Felix said.
“You go.”
He crossed his arms over his chest and walked away. I didn’t really want him to go. I wanted for him to take it back. He turned the corner—and nothing. I didn’t know what to do. I trudged back to the bakery.
My dad stood by the worktable in the kitchen. Felix was right about one thing. I was ready to hate him. I was absolutely ready. I hated this whole thing as much as I hated my mom leaving. I felt like grabbing a box of eggs, getting on my bicycle and flinging them at Belinda’s SUV, at Peregrino’s warehouse, and at Felix’s head.
I didn’t do any of those things. Eggs weren’t free.
My dad pushed his hands into the mixing bowl and formed a ball of masa the size of a fat baby. He punched it down. “Let’s fire up that new oven,” he said. It occurred to me that he was never going to be able to pay my grandparents back. It wasn’t like they needed it, but it would be the worst blow to my dad’s pride—worse than not paying the bank, if that was possible.
I rubbed at the back of my neck. “That’s an awful lot of masa.”
“Maybe not enough. It’s for the celebration tomorrow. This is big, Masi. The biggest thing we’ve done. Everyone will be there.”
“Dad—” I didn’t know how to tell him. What proof did I even have? “Nothing.” I was at a loss.
Chapter 39
The boys moved the Chamber’s folding table and other furniture to a corner of the pyramid. Loretta placed a bright red tablecloth on the table. The neighborhood restaurants put down their trays of tamales, fajitas, sopes, and various side dishes. My dad and I watched Mrs. Sustaita set up jugs of horchata and agua de tamarindo. We laid out our baskets of sweet bread along with all the other food.
Loretta decorated the edges of the table with foot-high marigold centerpieces. Casey and Stacey hung our papel picado from the exposed beams on the ceiling of the pyramid.
There wasn’t a pair of frayed jeans or ratty sneakers in the crowd. We complemented the best Tamaulipas and Jalisco had to offer with the finest slacks, finest skirts, finest shoes, and finest smiles.
Marcos sat in one of the chairs. He polished his trumpet and put the brass instrument to his mouth. The Fernandez brothers picked up their violin and accordion. Together, they played a do wa ditty that reminded me of their days in the American Academy band.
I sat down with my dad and waited.
Marcos and the Fernandez brothers played until they ran out of songs.
The sun beat down from outside as it shifted overhead. Colonel Franco set up two box fans on the floor, but the ice cubes in the drink jugs still melted into a froth.
There was a loud sigh when a man in a three-piece suit finally appeared. It was as if all of Pig Park had been holding its breath.
Peregrino clapped his hands together. “Welcome, Alderman Chavez,” he said in a clear voice meant to bridge the distance.
Loretta ran to Chavez’ side and snapped a picture.
He was cool and collected despite the layers of clothes and heat. His eyes glanced over the small group. He shook hands all around and greeted Colonel Franco with a pat on the back. “Didn’t you invite anyone else to your opening?” Chavez asked.
“We sent out a number of flyers and invitations,” Peregrino cut in. The three men engaged in a hushed conversation.
One minute.
Five minutes.
Ten minutes.
No one else arrived.
No one said much. Even Loretta held her tongue. I imagined it was because of Chavez. Colonel Franco limped to the center of the group. “This is a celebration so let’s quit with all the long faces,” he said. “We are a small bunch, but a good one. Chavez here has just pledged the City of Chicago’s support. He’s suggesting new lampposts and sidewalks. Now let’s dig in!”
“At least Patricia didn’t miss much,” Loretta said to my dad.
I rolled my eyes. She just couldn’t help butting in.
“She wanted to come. She’ll be back in time for the beginning of the school year though. Patricia is spending a few more days with Masi’s grandparents. But we already bought her bus ticket home,” my dad said. I looked at him. Her scheduled return was news to me.
My dad excused himself, and I follo
wed him. I wanted to know about this bus ticket. “I haven’t seen Felix. Have you?” he asked first.
“No.” I lied and walked away to avoid getting into it about Felix. I didn’t want to lie to my dad.
I’d seen Felix slinking in the shadows, trying to disappear into the walls. I’d also seen him talking to Belinda who stood by the door with a stupid smile. It was hard to miss them. Felix and Belinda stuck out with their regular people clothes in a room full of human piñatas.
I watched Chavez down a glass of horchata, two tamales and a ginger pig before excusing himself.
Mr. Wong cornered Belinda once Chavez was good and gone. “No one came.”
Belinda’s jaw dropped. She grasped at the air with her hands. “I don’t know what to say.”
“Well, you better think of something. We gave Dr. Vidales Casal our money. We built this thing. I sold my car. People dug into their mattresses. We made our kids wear your costumes.”
“We did everything you asked short of wearing pig suits,” I threw in.
“Masi, be respectful,” my dad said.
Felix stepped forward from the shadows. “No. They’re both just saying what most of you all must feel,” he said.
“Things like these don’t always take off overnight. There’s no need for you to worry. We’ll get the word out and try again. We’ll have a big Día de los Muertos celebration,” Peregrino interrupted. “This afternoon was really more of a dress rehearsal anyway.”
Of course, they didn’t know that, according to Felix, we didn’t have that kind of time. It was my chance to say something, but I didn’t. I don’t know why. Maybe I figured that Peregrino could always deny all of it. Without backup from Felix, it was my word against his. I kept my mouth shut like the coward I was.
People wanted to believe Peregrino because some of them began to nod. Not everyone though. “This conversation isn’t over,” Lorreta said and stomped away. Everyone else packed up their things—the leftover food and respective containers—and headed home. “I’ll clean up the rest of it,” I said to Colonel Franco and grabbed a few paper plates and cups for the trash can.
“Close up when you’re done, Masi,” he said. I nodded. I blew out the candles. I thought about the not-so-gran pirámide—and my dad and everyone else who lived in Pig Park.
I didn’t notice Felix had stayed behind too. His hand on my arm made me jump inside my skin. I backed away and looked up straight into his cat eyes.
“I didn’t sign up for this. I thought I’d get my school credit and leave. But I’m not a signer. I care. I want to help fix this,” he said.
“Then say something with me,” I insisted. There was a long pause. He looked down at his feet. I felt a pang. The way I figured, he’d didn’t care about us if he wasn’t at least willing to do that. “We don’t need any more of your kind of help. Go home, Felix.”
“Home is in New Mexico.”
“I don’t care.”
“I’m not just giving up.” He looked up, cat eyes ablaze.
I closed my eyes tight as a water faucet until I sensed that he was gone. I sat there like a spineless mute. I didn’t know what else to do. I wanted to get up, run away and get lost.
Chapter 40
I stumbled into my dad in the dark bakery hallway. He leaned down and pulled his shoes on. “I’m going over to talk to some of the other families,” he said. “Lock the door behind me.”
He returned within the hour. “We decided everyone should stay close to home base in case any visitors show up. That’s all for now. There’s time for the rest to work itself out,” he said.
Maybe Felix had followed my dad, because there he was—pounding at the door with an open fist. My dad reached for the deadbolt. I hurried away to my room.
“Can I talk to Masi?” Felix asked, his voice carrying up the stairs.
“Masi?” My dad called out. “She was right here a minute ago. She must’ve gone to her room. Masi? I’m not sure what’s gotten into her.”
“It’s okay. I wanted to talk to you too. I’m sorry for what happened today. I know you must be worried. I’m going to do everything I can to help. I just wanted you and Masi to know that.”
“Don’t stress yourself about it. We’ll figure something out. You’ll see.”
I listened to Felix say goodnight and walked back downstairs as soon as I heard the door close.
“Are you angry at Felix?” my dad asked.
“Yes.”
“He’s a good boy, Masi. I trust that today was not his fault. There’s no reason to be angry at him.” Of course, my dad didn’t know the whole story.
There’d been an incident with rollerblades when I was a kid. I’d tripped on a branch and splattered across hard gravel. Glass on the ground from a nearby broken bottle had buried itself deep into my arm. There’d been a dramatic visit to the hospital with my mom. I’d just wanted not to have to look at all those layers of underskin and blood. I’d been happy for the quick stitches until the bandages came off, and my fingernails dug up glass every time I scratched. Then I wished they’d taken just a little bit more time.
This was like that.
I didn’t know Felix at all. Never mind the days we’d spent together or the hours I’d spent watching him with my dad. I’d never really taken the time to know him. Just like the pyramid, I’d been more in love with who I wanted him to be than who he actually was. Now I was digging up glass. Even worse, I had sold out Pig Park for a pretty face. At least the others had done it for the promise of a better tomorrow.
I sat in front of the TV and stared at the images until I couldn’t stand it anymore. I wanted to muster up a Loretta-sized voice and run up and down Pig Park yelling the truth. I pulled out my bike and rode over to Josefina’s.
I pushed the bike against the wall into Mrs. Nowak’s tomato bushes. Marcos opened the door. One hand held the door knob. The other held a bag of chips. “Masi, what a surprise. You came all this way just to see us.”
“Stop messing around. I live down the street,” I said.
“Really, I thought you’d moved away. I mean you haven’t been by in weeks.”
He was right. Josefina stuck her head out from behind him. Marcos stepped around her and slipped back into the grocery store. “You dumped us for Felix,” she said.
“I’m sorry.” I followed her to her room.
“You better be.”
“I am. I won’t be wasting any more time on Felix either.”
She looked like I’d just given her dog poop and told her it was chocolate. “You mean because he’ll be leaving soon? So now you want us back.”
“It’s not like that. I didn’t mean to forget about you. I didn’t mean to forget my friends. I was confused by him,” I confessed.
“Me and Marcos tried to warn you about him.”
“Please don’t bring Marcos into this.”
“Why not? He hates Felix. And you know about his feelings for you. They are not very brotherly. I always thought we’d end up being real sisters one day.”
“Don’t say that.” How could I tell her that I felt I might lose her, even after everything? And all Marcos ever did was tease me.
“Fine, fine. Just think about something else.”
I closed my eyes. I tried to picture Marcos flipping his hair behind his ears. I even flashed back to that fifth-grade kiss. It was the same old el cucuy tactic. But it didn’t work.
After Josefina’s boyfriend had moved away the previous year, she’d stopped eating for a month. She’d lost ten pounds. After my mom had left my dad, he’d moped around, then gone crazy. He’d nearly buried the house with bread. I didn’t want to go crazy. That seemed like a luxury. Someone still needed to save Pig Park or I would lose Josefina and Marcos for real.
I looked at Josefina, tried to look into her. “There’s more, but it’s getting late,” I said.
“I’ll walk you out.”
Josefina and I stood by the front steps. I don’t know how, but I told her all t
he terrible things I knew. “Why didn’t you say anything at the unveiling?” she asked.
“I don’t know. I wanted to. It wasn’t easy. Remember when we learned about the Spanish conquest of the Americas in history class? We read that essay that talked about how the Aztec rulers accepted defeat as their fate. Maybe this is our fate. Maybe I’m like the ancient Aztecs after all. Maybe Felix and I are not so different. Maybe I am not so different from my mom who ran away either,” I said.
“Your mom is trying to fix things. She’s coming back.”
“You’re right.” I stared out into the park for a long time. I didn’t have to accept this. I opened my mouth and closed it. I sighed and spoke. “But I don’t know what to do. What if no one believes me?”
“We’ll think of something.”
I nodded. Not thinking of something meant the end of Josefina and me. “We’ll still be friends, even if the earth swallows up Pig Park, won’t we? We’ll write, call, text, send smoke signals. Won’t we?” I asked. Maybe our friendship was strong enough. It had to be. It had survived a decade of firsts: first days of school, first honor rolls, first periods, first first kisses, first loves, first heartbreaks.
“Yes. We’ll still be friends. Best friends,” she said. It was exactly what I need to hear. I hugged her and felt a little better. I turned around and walked home.
Chapter 41
Loretta sauntered out of the bakery, pulling the door closed behind her. She smoothed her blouse over her thick waist and looked up to see me. I wasn’t in the mood to talk. I walked past her.
“Masi, what’s wrong?” she asked.
I was done feeding her addiction to gossip. I rubbed my eyes and didn’t say anything.
“Masi?” she repeated.
“Don’t you already know? Don’t you know EVERYTHING? Why didn’t you know?” I exploded. Tears rolled down my face. I threw my face into my hands and sobbed.
“Don’t cry, mija,” she said.
Pig Park Page 12
