When everyone is out for the morning, we sneak into Tío Ed’s office and back into Xochitl’s e-mail account.
We copy the necessary addresses. Then we take off for the shack. Wendy helps me create a new e-mail account for Xochitl. We message SubPop Laura and Kristi from Ray Is a Girl—as Xochitl—from the new account. We tell them, My old e-mail account was compromised, so … and we tell them, My plans have changed and I can go on tour! And we attach six song files to the mail.
We cross our fingers and hope they don’t already have another singer lined up.
Then we do our tutoring and we sell our chile.
And we wait.
* * *
Kristi responds first. Then a couple more Ray’s bandmates. They say SubPop’s been pitching them one opening act after another. And they keep on fouling them off waiting for Xochitl to change her mind. Somehow they knew she’d make it. And as far as they’re concerned, she’s on the tour.
It’s gonna happen!
But before we can break the news, we get mail back from SubPop. Laura McConnell loves the songs. But people at the label want video of Xochitl doing her solo stuff in front of an audience.
“We can make it happen,” Wendy says.
“We need an audience,” I say, “a good video camera, and a high-quality mic. We need a stage.”
It’s obvious to both of us. Sparky’s is the only game in town. They have shows going all the time. The have all the sound equipment. And everyone in Southern New Mexico knows exactly where it is.
So we shut down the stand, grab Manny, and hop in the Dodge.
And we explain everything.
Manny is down for the whole deal.
* * *
Later that night, I call home. Papi picks up and puts me on speaker.
“I have cool news to tell you guys,” I say. “But first, um, I’m sorry it took so long for me to tell you this thing, and if you never forgive me, I totally understand. Mami, Papi … Manny tried to take his own life. And it was weeks ago.”
There’s silence on the other end.
I ask them if they’re okay.
Mami says she’s okay.
“Papi?”
He says he’s all right.
I tell them that Tío Ed has got Manny stable. I tell them how we do Manny’s meds and tell them about the group and about how hard Manny’s been working. How much better he’s doing. How he’s gonna stay down here for a while—maybe a long time.
That’s when Papi says, “Mijo, your brother told us a few days after. He told us everything. We talk every day. We talk to Ed, too. We know.”
I ask them to please forgive Xochitl and me for not telling them right away.
“Oh, mijo,” Papi says. “Forgive us for not being there. Forgive us.”
They say they know what I did that night. Mami starts crying. “We wanted to talk to you about it. We did. But we were waiting for you to bring it up, because … The weeks went by and you never said anything. We should have asked. I’m sorry, mijo. Are you doing okay?”
“I’m better, Mami. I’m seeing a counselor.”
“We know, mijo,” she says.
“It’s good, mijo,” Papi says.
Then I tell them the rest of the news. I tell them about Xochitl’s songs. And about her SubPop opportunity of a lifetime. About how Wendy and I went behind Xochitl’s back. I tell them how, on the way to talk to Sparky’s booking agent, Manny came up with the idea of selling the night as a fund-raiser for the Wounded Warrior Project. I tell them how amazing Manny was talking the Sparky’s lady into the whole thing.
I tell them me and Manny were so afraid Xochitl would say no because she wants to be here for Manny. So Manny decided not to tell Xochitl she’s the main act. She’ll know when I announce her. That’s what Manny said. No way she can say no.
Mami says, “That’s a good plan, Teodoro. Cuz if she knew what you did…”
Finally, I tell them Manny and I saved up from working down here and we just bought two plane tickets—Sea-Tac to El Paso. “And we’re not telling Xochitl you’re gonna be at Sparky’s.”
There’s a celebration on the other end of the line.
But things get quiet again when I tell them I want so bad to be back home with them, but Manny still needs someone to stay with him after the summer. And I’m going to be that guy. “I can’t wait to see you two!” I say, trying to break the silence. “Mami?”
“Oh, I cannot wait to see you,” she says.
“Me, too, mijo,” Papi says.