But soon, one o’clock gave way to two o’clock, and when the food had gone cold, people began running out of excuses. Especially Efrén.
By four o’clock, the apartment had emptied of all the guests. Efrén couldn’t handle the thought of any bad news and avoided looking in Apá’s direction, choosing instead to stare at the mostly untouched food that covered Amá’s entire kitchen counter.
Finally, the phone rang. Apá rushed over to answer, followed closely by Max and Mía.
Efrén studied Apá’s face for any sign of good news.
But what he saw instead was his father’s face fall, his shoulders sink, and his eyes close. The news was bad. Very bad.
Seventeen
Apá didn’t say much after hanging up the phone. He simply stood in place; his breath sounded like there was a terrible weight on his chest. With tears in his eyes, he finally coughed to clear his throat.
Efrén braced himself for the news.
Only Apá didn’t say a thing. He couldn’t.
There were so many thoughts, so many feelings scurrying around in Efrén’s head—some so horrible that he couldn’t bear the silence any longer. “Is she okay?” he finally asked.
Apá leaned in closer to Efrén—away from Max and Mía. “She’s safe,” he said, his voice thick and buried. “But the van she was in got pulled over at the San Clemente checkpoint. She’s being held at a detention center.”
Efrén was about to ask a question when he felt a tug by his pants pocket. It was Max looking up at him, big penny eyes gleaming with hope. “Is Amá almost here?”
Mía rushed to his side to hear the answer.
Efrén’s throat swelled and choked him in a way he had never felt before. His mind flashed backward and forward all at once. He thought about Lalo watching his daughter grow up from behind a fence and imagined Max and Mía trying to squeeze their little arms through the fence just to hold hands with Amá again.
Efrén darted his teary eyes in the opposite direction and sucked in a breath. He wanted to be strong, wanted to pull himself together—for Max, for Mía. But he couldn’t find the strength.
That’s when Apá went down on one knee, first gently resting one hand on Max’s shoulder, then another on Mía’s. “Mijos, your Amá loves you two”—he interrupted himself and turned briefly to Efrén—“you three. And she will do everything she can to come home to you. And I will do everything I can to get her here. We will never give up. Nunca. That much I can promise you. But, no . . . she will not be coming home tonight. She will not be coming home tomorrow. Honestly”—his voice broke mid-sentence—“she won’t be coming home anytime soon.”
After sitting at the kitchen table in silence, Apá finally picked up the carrot cake and carried it over to the mattresses. “I don’t know about you guys, but I am going to sit here, watch some cartoons, and eat this cake. Anyone want to join me?”
Efrén turned to Max who then turned to Mía who sat silently, still wearing her heavy frown.
Apá held up his hand and wiggled his fingers. “How about some piojitos?”
Max’s head perked up. Piojitos were his favorite, but Efrén wasn’t sure he’d accept them from Apá. After all, that was Amá’s specialty.
Still, Max gave in. He picked up his fork and took a seat beside Apá, who immediately began scratching Max’s head in little Amá circles.
“Mía?” Efrén held up his hands and waved his fingers at her. “They’ve been trained by the best,” he singsonged.
Mía looked over at Max, who was now lying across Apá’s lap with a mouthful of cake. “Okay. But don’t expect me to like it.”
It didn’t take long—just three episodes of Spongebob—for the twins to eventually fall asleep. Apá took a towel to wipe away the smudges of frosting he could find on the blankets.
He and Efrén headed to the kitchen, where most of the food remained untouched.
“Such a waste, huh, Apá?”
Apá didn’t hear. His mind seemed to be on something much more pressing. “Mijo, I don’t have a right to ask this of you—it’s supposed to be my job—but could you continue taking the twins to school and picking them up?”
Efrén lowered his head. “Apá? We are going to try again, right? Maybe with a different coyote? I can start collecting water bottles and taking them to the recycling center. Maybe I can—”
“Mijo,” Apá interrupted, his eyes as red as Efrén had ever seen them. “Your Amá is being detained. I don’t know what’s going to happen.”
Efrén was shaken to the core. “So that’s it? We don’t try again?”
Apá reached over and gently guided Efrén’s chin up. “Look at me, mijo. I swear, I will not give up on your mother. That is a promise. ¿Entiendes?”
Efrén’s emotions finally let loose. “And what are we supposed to do without her?”
“We make do. That’s all we can do.”
We make do. Lalo’s words. Only now, they made less sense. “What if I don’t want to make do? What if I want to be selfish? Apá, I’m not asking for a huge house with a pool or fancy toys. I’m just asking for Amá back. That’s all. Why”—he asked between hiccupy sobs—“why can’t I have that?”
Apá wrapped his arm around him. “I know, mijo. It’s not fair. I know.”
Eighteen
Once again, the sun’s morning light squished through the cracked window blinds, hitting Efrén in the face. And once again, Efrén turned to see an empty mattress next to his. He got up and headed to the kitchen counter where the food, which hadn’t fit inside the refrigerator, still sat. Most of the delivered items were made from recipes Amá shared with the women at the laundromat, so in a way, having the food was like having a piece of her here too.
Efrén’s mind wandered back to when he’d said good-bye to Amá.
Amá was emotional; she kept squeezing and holding onto his hand. Efrén didn’t understand. He assumed he’d be seeing her again the next day.
If only he’d known, he would have let her squeeze him as long and as hard as she wanted. He wouldn’t have minded her smothering him with endless kisses all over his face. In fact, he would have wrapped his arms around her and never let go.
But now, he had work to do.
Getting the twins ready went okay. He didn’t say much. Neither did they. It wasn’t until they arrived at school and saw Ms. Solomon in the playground yard that they finally cracked.
Without warning, Max raced to her side and gave her the biggest of hugs.
Ms. Solomon turned and bent down to greet him. But when Max wouldn’t let go, her smile softened and she turned to Efrén, who was still carrying Mía on his back.
“Wow, I’m not sure I deserve this much love,” she joked.
Efrén lowered Mía, but she grabbed onto his leg and wouldn’t let go. “Look, Mía, your favorite swing is empty. Hurry, before someone beats you to it.”
Only Mía wouldn’t budge.
“Efrén, is everything okay?” Ms. Solomon asked.
Efrén took a moment to gather himself before finally looking up at her. He didn’t have the strength to keep the secret bottled up inside anymore. “There was no job. My mom . . . Amá”—his eyes darted back to the ground—“she got deported and arrested for trying to get back home. We don’t know if she’ll ever come back.”
Ms. Solomon gasped. “Oh, my God.” She knelt down and gave Max the biggest of hugs. Mía let go of Efrén and joined in.
Efrén looked on, wishing he were younger, wishing he too could—
But before he could finish the thought, Ms. Solomon rose and draped her arms around him in the same way Amá would have done had she’d been able to in person.
Ms. Solomon took the twins into her classroom and promised to keep a close eye on them all day. Now Efrén could just worry about himself.
Politics were behind Amá being taken away, and so he wanted nothing more to do with them. The first step would be writing a resignation letter to Ms. Salas, letting her know that he
was dropping out of the election.
The second step was simply getting through the school day without any more breakdowns. Avoiding David would be the first step.
Efrén arrived at school with plenty of time before first period. Not wanting to run into David, he took a seat by the library staircase—the last place David would be found. Quickly, he penned his letter for Ms. Salas. He didn’t go into detail, just stated he wasn’t interested in running anymore. Then, he reached into his backpack and pulled out the copy of The House on Mango Street.
Jennifer was right. This book is special. Efrén knew exactly how the character Esperanza felt. She wanted to leave Mango Street behind as much as he now wanted to leave his tiny apartment on Highland Street. If he could, he’d change everything about his life. Especially that part about being the son of undocumented parents.
Efrén locked onto every word.
“Like it or not you are Mango Street, and one day you’ll come back too.”
“Not me. Not until somebody makes it better.”
The lines grabbed at him, especially the somebody part. One thing was for sure, that somebody wasn’t going to be him.
Fortunately for Efrén, the school bell rang just as he finished the last page. He got up and thought about returning the book but ended up tucking it back into his backpack to read all over again later.
He made a beeline for his first-period class. Sure enough, Mr. Garrett stood by the door, once again high-fiving students on their way in. Efrén gave him a forced smile. He could tell him what had happened later.
Efrén sank into his seat, making sure to angle his body in the opposite direction from David. He took out his agenda and stared at the calendar section. He couldn’t think of anything worth jotting down.
He searched the pages for important dates. School elections, basketball tryouts, even the upcoming winter break—but they all meant nothing now. He closed his agenda and stared down at a black speck on the cover.
Suddenly, the door opened—Mr. Garrett had already started class. Someone was late. Efrén turned to sneak a peek.
His eyes went wide. Jennifer?
“Jennifer!” he called out.
The entire class all turned to look. Han ran over and gave Jennifer a huge hug.
“Ms. Huertas,” Mr. Garrett called out. “Does this mean you will be joining us again?” His voice was hopeful.
Jennifer smiled widely and nodded.
Efrén watched as Han led Jennifer back to her old seat. He wanted to rush over and greet her, ask her how she managed to make it back. So when Mr. Garrett offered the chance to pair up with a partner for today’s lesson, Efrén leaped out of his seat and hurdled over two rows of desks—all to reach Jennifer before Han.
This made Jennifer laugh. She turned to Han. “Do you mind?”
Han gave Efrén a look. “Go ahead.”
Efrén took a seat next to Jennifer while Mr. Garrett added last-minute instructions on the board for a podcast assignment. “Okay,” Efrén asked, “so how exactly did you get back?”
Jennifer leaned forward. “Ms. Salas. I emailed to tell her that I was dropping from the race. We ended up writing back and forth. She did some research, then called my mom. Told her all about the Fair Tomorrow Program that helps kids of color get into private boarding high schools all over the country. Ms. Salas is going to help me apply. Hey, maybe you should apply? Bet you’d get in.”
Efrén shook his head. With Amá gone, there was no way he could bail on Max or Mía. “Nah. It’s not for me.” He glanced over to check that Mr. Garrett was still writing on the board. “Where are you staying?”
“Ms. Salas convinced my mom to let me stay with her until the program can find me a place. Technically, she’s my foster parent.”
“Wow. Ms. Salas really came through for you, huh?”
“Yeah she did. She’s super nice, but I’m still getting used to living with her.”
“So?” asked Efrén, “does this mean you’ll still be running for president?”
Jennifer shook her head. “Can’t. I have to focus on my application. Got to get ready for the entrance exam, practice for my interviews, and make up the work I missed. Besides, I saw your posters on the way over.” She glanced over at David. “How’s he taking it?”
Efrén lowered his head. “Not so good. We’re not friends anymore. He made that perfectly clear.”
Jennifer covered her mouth. “I’m so sorry. I never meant to pressure you.”
“No. It’s not your fault.”
“Well,” said Jennifer, “I’m glad you decided to run.”
Efrén bit his lip. “I did. But now I’ve decided to quit. It’s too much for me right now too.” He padded his sweater pocket. “I just need to turn in my resignation.”
“Oh,” she said, sounding disappointed.
Mr. Garrett made his way to Jennifer. “Hey, Ms. Huertas. Just wanted to let you know that it’s really nice having you back.”
“Thank you. I’m glad to be back too.”
“All right, but you two better get to work. You can catch up later.”
“Yes, Mr. Garrett,” the two answered at exactly the same time.
Later, when the end-of-class bell rang, Efrén saw a blur of yellow and blue—David’s favorite colors—rush past him. Efrén let out a sigh as he waited for Jennifer and Han to gather their stuff.
The three left and headed down the main corridor together. “By the way,” said Jennifer, “that poster by the drinking fountain is my favorite.”
“Mine too,” added Han.
Efrén blushed. “Oh, that’s my little brother’s. He meant well.”
“Well,” said Jennifer, “I think it’s adorable.” Jennifer rushed ahead to where Max placed the poster. Only when she got there, something was obviously wrong. She gasped and stood frozen as if she’d seen a ghost.
A kid stopped beside her. Then another. Each equally wide-eyed. Efrén hurried over as kids began to huddle around. He couldn’t believe his eyes.
Jennifer shook her head. “I’m so sorry, Efrén. I can’t imagine anyone doing something like this.” Suddenly, Efrén heard someone calling for him. It was Abraham running toward him. Of course it was. Nothing ever happened at school without Abraham knowing about it.
“Ef-Efrén,” Abraham struggled to catch his breath. “I guess el Periquito Blanco finally showed his true colors.”
“What are you talking about?” Efrén asked.
“Our security guard, Rabbit, caught David messing with your posters. Took him to the main office.”
Efrén didn’t know what to say. He’d witnessed his apartment wall tagged up plenty of times before. He’d seen it being done as he peeked outside waiting for Amá to get home late at night. Even caught a few high school kids doing it on their way to school. But this was different. Way different.
This was David, making the horrible comments toward him. Toward his family. Toward Latino families everywhere. Even though their friendship was over, he never imagined that David could do something like this.
“No way,” Efrén said. Not him. This doesn’t make sense.
This was the same David who he’d shared so many bags of Cheetos with over the years.
The same David he’d gotten lost with on a school field trip to the LA Zoo, so that Apá had to drive over to get them.
This was the same David who loved to come over and sample Amá’s delicious milagros—even the spicy ones.
“Whatcha gonna do about it?” asked Abraham. “You gonna beat him up?”
Efrén reached over, pulled down the poster, and crumbled it into a ball.
Jennifer tugged at his sleeve. “Han and I are going to check the rest of the posters. Why don’t you go to the office?”
Efrén’s chin fell to his chest. It was bad enough that the world didn’t think that families like Efrén’s were good enough for this country—but David too?
Why, David? Why? It was more than Efrén could take.
He hand
ed the crumpled poster to Jennifer and walked away.
That walk to the main office was one of the longest of his life. Deport Efrén Nava. The words might have stuck to him like chewed-up bubble gum on the bottom of a sneaker, but they burned like the seeds of a hot pepper. He couldn’t understand how David could be so cruel.
Efrén was about to go in when the door opened and David stepped out.
David gave Efrén a long, pained look.
Efrén opened his mouth, but again, the words failed him.
Mrs. Carey, the school principal, unexpectedly called out behind David, waving a yellow slip in the air. “I want you to take this note back to—Oh, Efrén . . .”
She panned over to David and then back at Efrén. The tension between them was obvious. “Efrén, why don’t you come inside? There’s something you ought to know.”
David reached for the pass and disappeared up the stairs.
Efrén began to feel sick.
Mrs. Carey held the door open for him. “Come on in.”
Efrén entered, the color drained from his face.
Mrs. Carey sat up. “School security caught David damaging posters. But he’s not the person who wrote those racial epithets. In fact, he was going around the campus tearing them down. I can only imagine what you must have thought.”
Efrén swallowed. “I thought that David was a horrible friend. A horrible person. And that I never wanted to see him again.” His head tilted downward. “But it turns out I’m the horrible friend for thinking badly about him.”
“Don’t be so hard on yourself. A lot of us jumped to the same conclusion.” She tapped on the desk with her pen. “Don’t worry. We’ll find whoever wrote those abhorrent comments. But first, you’ll need to file a report. I will walk you through it.”
Efrén felt terrible for thinking the worst of his best friend, or as David used to say, “his brother from another mother.”
Nineteen
Mrs. Carey excused Efrén from the office a few minutes before the nutrition break bell. However, instead of lining up early and getting his lunch first, Efrén headed back upstairs to the quad area to wait for David.
Efren Divided Page 14
