I hand the phone to Mami. “It’s Tía Bárbara.”
Mami puts the phone to her ear and right away slaps her forehead. “Ay, ay, ay,” she says again and again. “Don’t worry, Bárbara, we’ll help out.” She shakes her head as she hangs up.
“What’s wrong?” Papi asks.
“Tío Diego tripped on a rug and fractured his wrist. They just got back from the emergency room.”
“Oh, no,” Papi says.
“Juan will stay with Tío Diego all day tomorrow, but they need us to help on Friday and Saturday.”
Papi nods. “Yes, of course.”
“Miguelito, you should go spend time with him after school on Friday, and take Lolo with you,” Mami says. “He always brings a smile to Tío Diego’s face.”
“Sure,” I mumble. Tío Diego is okay, but hanging out with him is not my first choice of things to do for fun.
“Look.” Papi points to the answering machine. “We have a message.”
Mami presses the play button.
“Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Rosado, this is Ms. Miller, Miguel’s art club teacher—”
I drop my fork.
“—I’m sure your son gave you the permission slip for a trip to the Met Cloisters during next week’s art club meeting. I just found out the comic book art exhibit will only be there through Sunday. So, if you’re interested, I’ll meet the kids at the school at two thirty on Saturday. Please remember to send the signed form with him so he’s able to travel with the group. So long, now.”
There is a long beep at the end of Ms. Miller’s message.
I peek up at my parents. They have puzzled looks on their faces.
My heart jumps. Maybe they didn’t understand the message! Fast English is always tough for them. Maybe they think Ms. Miller is my teacher, and this is a regular school field trip! Technically, it is a school field trip, so when they ask me to explain, I could say that. It won’t really be a lie, right?
Mami pushes the button again. And again.
I shut my eyes tighter and tighter with each word from Ms. Miller.
Then, there’s silence. I dare to look at my parents.
They stare at me with laser eyes. For a really long time.
Finally, Mami speaks. “You lied to us and went to that useless art thing?”
“How can we trust you, Miguel?” Papi says.
“We thought you were maturing, but we were wrong.”
“We’ll have to keep an extra eye on you.”
“So disappointing.”
They tsk and shake their heads.
I don’t know what to say.
“Well, that settles it,” Mami says. “You’ll spend the whole afternoon with Tío Diego on Saturday. That way he’ll make sure you stay close.”
Not only am I a liar, I’m not even an artist anymore.
CHAPTER 19 Lolo
Miguel slumps onto his bed.
“We have to go to Tío Diego’s this weekend,” he says. “This is so unfair!”
He jumps up and yanks everything out of his bag one by one, hurling each item across the room. He grabs a piece of paper and rips it up into a million pieces.
He plops himself on the floor. “I won’t need that anymore.”
Why is Miguel upset? I sit beside him and rest my head on his lap.
“At least you’ll be with me, Lolo.” He scratches the top of my head.
Then he reaches under his bed and pulls out the sketchbook. I watch as he draws Tío Diego with that metal thing called a walker. I hate that thing!
