Backstreets
Shadows inside shadows.
Maria squeezed Victor’s hand tightly.
Shadows disappearing into darkness.
Into this darkness they followed Oswaldo. Maria’s steps faltered as she entered this night, and Oswaldo turned toward her and smiled.
“Hurry!”
Then he dashed ahead. He dodged the carts, motorbikes, and cars that lined the narrow streets. Maria and Victor could hear the balero clacking in Oswaldo’s back pocket, but it was difficult to see exactly where he was.
“He has the eyes of a cat,” Victor whispered to his sister.
“I just hope it’s a cat and not a lion,” replied Maria anxiously. Together they pressed on. After a hundred yards or so down the alley, their eyes adjusted to the shadows and the world beyond the plaza became visible. The buildings lining it had doors that were shut and windows that were dark.
“Yeow!” screamed Maria as she leaped back. A rat was chewing on a crust of bread at her feet. “Maybe I don’t really want to see,” she muttered, as she and Victor made a wide berth around the creature.
“Hurry!” called Oswaldo again. He was at the end of the alley where it opened onto another street. The lights behind him showed cars driving quickly by.
They crossed the alley, caught up with him, and looked out at all the street traffic. No one seemed to notice the three children out alone. They came quickly to another street and then another. They hurried past small adobe homes and shacks constructed out of discarded crates and sheets of metal. Occasionally they could see into these modest homes, where families would be gathered, eating beans and tortillas. These rooms looked warm and inviting. They reminded Maria of her village and of sitting around the table with her mother and grandmother. Her heart ached to return to those times.
“Wait!” called Victor suddenly. He had stopped in front of a window. Inside, a man whittled small toy tops, the kind that spun when a string was pulled. Beside the man, a boy pulled the strings on the tops, sending them skittering across the packed dirt floor. It was a magical moment to see so many tops dance around the small room at once. The old man glanced out the window. “Hola!” He waved.
“Buendía,” said Maria as she dipped her head respectfully.
“Buenas noches,” the old man laughed. He was toothless, and his tongue waggled in his mouth like one of those party horns that rolled out when one blew on it.
“That’s Menga, the toy maker,” explained Oswaldo as he came up behind Victor. “I have one of those back at my place. Come on.”
“How far are we going?” She stood firm beside her brother.
Oswaldo laughed. “Not much farther. My father has made a wonderful dinner, and Victor can play with my toys.” He brushed Victor’s hair with his hand.
Maria nodded. She would get her money and go. There was something strange about Oswaldo that she couldn’t figure out. He was both friendly and scary.
“Hurry or the food will be cold by the time we get there.” Oswaldo ran on. Maria and Victor followed.
Oswaldo led them down two more streets and then into an alley. As she and Victor followed, Maria lost track of their way. “I have to trust him,” she repeated under her breath. “No other choice.” She no longer knew how to find her way back to the plaza.
Oswaldo stopped suddenly at a metal shed leaning at a precariously odd angle against an old brick building. Someone had painted No Entry in clumsy letters on it. The door looked as if it had come off the back of a truck. It appeared to be loosely attached.
Oswaldo rapped his fist against the door two times and then waited.
After a few moments, they could hear footsteps and then a voice asked, “Who’s there?” The voice sounded old and raspy.
“Me and some new friends,” answered Oswaldo.
“Friends?” croaked the voice.
“Sí.” Oswaldo nodded reassuringly to Maria and Victor.
A few seconds of silence passed and then the sound of a heavy chain being pulled free was heard. The door had actually been chained shut. A moment later it creaked open. An old man, slightly stooped and with a huge belly, stood before them. “Come in. Come in. I am Oscar.” He waved Maria and Victor inside.
As Maria passed Oscar, she noticed that he was dressed rather strangely. The old man wore a maroon brocaded robe and a pale blue tuxedo shirt with ruffles. On his feet were beautifully embroidered gold slippers. He did not look like a man who went out often.
“Oscar, meet my friends Victor and Maria,” said Oswaldo.
Maria thought it was odd that Oswaldo would call his father by his first name, but she didn’t give it much thought. Everything about this place seemed strange.
“A pleasure.” The old man bowed stiffly. His belly nearly brushed the ground. This almost caused Victor to laugh, but Maria pinched him before he could. “Please, this way.”
They entered into the hallway and waited a moment for Oscar to replace the chain on the door. He saw Maria watching him closely and explained, “The city is dangerous. We don’t want any thieves breaking in.”
“I know,” Maria replied rudely. “You’ve already stolen my money.”
“We’re holding it so it’s safe.” The old man gave her a look of sympathy. “It’s here.”
Oscar led them down a long flight of wooden stairs with no handrail. Maria clung to the wall on one side while Victor skipped down like a billy goat.
At the bottom they stepped into a cavernous room that looked like a cave. Huge stalactites hung from the ceiling and stalagmites rose like knees from the floor. The cavern was elaborately decorated with beautiful gold and silver candelabra and velvet drapes. It looked more like an underground palace than a cave. Dozens of candles blazed around the room.
“A secret cave!” exclaimed Victor, very excited.
“It’s so beautiful,” said Maria, gasping. She had only read of such opulent places in books. The homes in her village contained very simple belongings compared to this cave. “It’s like a palace, but it’s underground.” Then she caught herself. She was here for her money. Nothing more.
“Yes! This is our home,” replied Oscar. “I discovered this cave many years ago when I was a boy not much older than you.” He stared at Victor, and his gaze lasted longer than was comfortable.
“So what do you think, Oscar?” asked Oswaldo.
The old man smiled. He was missing all of his teeth, so his mouth had the hollow look of a jack-o’-lantern.
Victor looked at his sister. He didn’t understand what was going on. But neither did Maria.
The old man turned Victor around. “He’s about the right size.”
“Size for what?” asked Maria suspiciously. “Where’s my money?” Victor ran over to his sister.
“In time, in time,” replied Oscar with a wave of the hand. “You must be hungry. I have a hot meal ready.” He led them farther into the cavern. At a small stove the old man lifted a lid to a large pot and a fragrant steam rose.
As her stomach responded, Maria felt her uneasiness disappear.