I dart up and follow Miguel inside.
“Welcome home, Lolo!” Mami greets me with a smile.
This room is smaller than downstairs, but it doesn’t have as much stuff. I see a few good places to nap. And some nice hiding spots.
“This is the living room, Lolo,” Miguel says. “That’s the sofa, and that’s the TV. On weekends, we can play video games or watch movies.”
Miguel is very excited about that box called the TV.
“Come see my room!”
I follow Miguel down a skinny hallway into another room.
“This is your bed, Lolo. I hope you like it.” Miguel pats a round, fluffy cushion.
I step onto it. Oh, this is a great place to nap.
“I have a bunch of toys you can play with.” Miguel picks up a metal dog, a purple ball, a block with different colored sides. He sets them aside and sits, bouncing up and down.
“This is my bed. You can sleep here with me if you want.”
He jumps up and closes the door.
“Look, Lolo,” Miguel says softly. “I keep my drawings under the bed. Do you want to see them?” He reaches under the bed—
“Miguel, dinner’s ready!”
Miguel stands. “I’ll show you later,” he whispers.
CHAPTER 10 Miguel
Everything is perfect tonight. Lolo is in our apartment for the first time ever. And Mami made my favorite meal: picadillo, fluffy white rice, and crispy tostones. She sings along to the radio and laughs when Papi dances beside her.
I put a bowl of cat food out for Lolo and sit at the table with my parents.
“Guess what?” I say, all smooth and casual like this is no big deal. “There’s a new club at school, and I want to join.”
“Oh, like Yesenia’s student council club?” Papi says. “She’s preparing for her future as a lawyer.”
“What is your club, mijo?” Mami asks. “Math would be good since you’re going to be an engineer.”
I gulp. Maybe this is a mistake. But I’ll never know if I don’t ask. I open my mouth and blurt it out before my mind stops me.
“It’s art.”
My parents lock eyes, and I see they’re having one of their telepathic conversations before Papi finally speaks.
“We need you at the store,” he says. “If this were a real school club we’d figure something out, maybe have one of your cousins come help. But art?”
“This is a real school club,” I say.
Mami sighs. “Miguel, you need to stop it with this silly drawing hobby. Sure, it’s cute, and a nice thing to do for fun when there’s time, but you’ll never get a job with your dibujitos!”
“You don’t know that!” I shove my fists into my thighs. “I could be a famous artist one day, but not if you don’t even let me try!”
Papi points at me. “Don’t talk to your mother like that!”
“This isn’t fair. You say you want me to get a good education and have an important career, but you only care about that boring bodega!” I stand and run to my room.
Lolo sprints after me and jumps onto the bed beside me.
“I can’t believe this, Lolo,” I say. “My parents don’t understand what really matters.”
Last month when I went to Ms. Miller’s classroom to pick up the permission form, I saw the artwork on the walls and my mouth fell open. There was a watercolor of the crowd at a Yankees game, a charcoal drawing of the view from the Statue of Liberty, and a mosaic of the New York Public Library that was so awesome I felt like I could reach out and touch those stone lions.
Did the kids in this art class actually go to these places? They’re not far, but I’ve never been to any of them. My parents say I should work hard to achieve my goals, but what they really mean is that I should work hard to achieve their goals. My goal is to create wonderful art, but how can I become a good artist if all I ever see is the inside of our bodega?
“I need to travel the world if I want to make my dreams come true,” I tell Lolo. “You understand me, right?”
Sure he does. He’s probably explored way more places than I have. “I wonder where you’ve been, Lolo, what you’ve seen.”
Lolo mews softly and blinks at me. Even though he seems comfortable here, I know there’s a wanderer inside him still, and I know I can be a better artist if I visit new places too.
