On the first day back to school, I call to Lolo on my way out of the bodega. “Have a good day, Lolo!” I scratch behind his left ear. “I’ll be back after school.”
Benny is waiting at the corner, yawning like a bear in spring. I stagger to him zombie style.
My cousin Yesenia skips over and joins us. “Is it true? Is it true?” She tugs my arm. “Tío Diego said you got a cat. Did you really?”
“Yep.” I smile and step off the curb.
“Oh, my dad won’t be happy to hear that,” she says.
Yesenia’s dad and my dad are brothers, so Tío Diego is her great-uncle too.
“Why doesn’t Tío Juan want us to have a cat?” I ask.
“He’s afraid the city will make you pay a fine for keeping a cat in the bodega.”
I shrug. “My parents say it’s not a problem.”
“I wish my mom and dad were cool like yours,” she says.
“Yeah, right.” I roll my eyes.
I know my aunt and uncle are super strict. But at least Yesenia has four sisters, and they get to take turns working at their bodega. I’m practically always at our bodega.
Still, it’s too bad they’ll never get a cat.
We race down St. Nicholas Avenue, then turn the corner toward our school.
“That sign is still up!” Yesenia says when we step inside. “You’re going to do it, right, Miguel?”
I blink. I still haven’t asked my parents about art club. I keep putting it off. I know it’s silly, but I feel like it’s better to hope they’ll say yes than to hear them say no.
I look at Yesenia and shrug. “Maybe.”
“You’d better decide soon. The first meeting is next week.”
“I know!” I say. “Stop hassling me!”
“Sheesh, why are you yelling at me?”
“I’m not yelling!” I shout. “You think you know everything, but you don’t. I can’t go off and do fun stuff after school. I’m not lucky like you!”
I storm to my classroom, mad at Yesenia and her sisters for having each other, mad at my parents for hating art, mad, mad, mad at everything and everybody.
I sit at my desk and pull out the crumpled permission form for art club. I had two weeks to give it to my parents and didn’t. There’s no one to blame but myself.
CHAPTER 7 Lolo
I prowl along the edges of the bodega and sniff for mice. Some speedy ones run off, but I grab a slow one and take it to Papi. He loves these presents.
“Good boy, Lolo,” he says. “How did we ever get along without you?”
I hold my head up high and hop onto the refrigerator and into my box.
Two men wearing the same gray clothes walk in.
“Hola, Paco,” Papi says to the one in front.
“Buenos días,” the man called Paco says. “Two bacon, egg, and cheese sandwiches, por favor.”
Paco’s quiet friend smiles at me.
“A cafecito too?” Mami asks them.
“Yes, of course.” Paco reaches into a pocket and pulls out some crumpled bills. He turns to the quiet one. “How much do you have?”
Papi hands them the sandwiches. “Pay me when you can,” he says.
“¡Gracias! ¡Gracias!” They gobble up their sandwiches, but the quiet one saves a little and walks over to me. He holds up a piece of cheesy egg.
It tastes wonderful!
After Paco and the nice man leave, a fast-walking lady in high heels and a navy blue suit walks in. I’ve seen her before. She carries a hard briefcase and always orders a coffee, no sugar, to go. Sometimes she gets a snack and breaks off a little bit for me.
The familiar man with the baseball hat, Señor Norberto, gives me a sliver of bacon.
