When Abel reported to work at Elena’s Donut Shop the next afternoon, Wednesday, he was nervous. He didn’t bring much experience to the job. But he had helped his mother dole out donuts at Our Lady of Guadalupe Church after the 7:30 mass on Sundays. Sometimes he dished out the donuts, and sometimes he took in the dollar and a quarter for coffee and a donut. Abel could make change pretty well; so he thought that wouldn’t be a problem. Still, this was his first real job.
When Abel arrived, Elena introduced him to the other two employees on that shift. Claudia Villa was a sweet-looking girl who wore big, round glasses. “Hi Abel,” she greeted him in a friendly voice. Her golden brown eyes sparkled behind the glasses.
Paul Morales was eighteen. He had already graduated from Chavez High, and he was taking classes in a technical school. He looked at Abel and advised, “Some guy always comes in around this time, a fat guy. He always wants three dozen assorted donuts. He takes forever to pick them out. Kinda hurry him along if other customers are in line.”
Abel stood alongside Paul for the first hour. He was really fast. He whipped out the orders and kept the line moving. “People hate to stand in line,” Paul told Abel. “Get ’em in and out,” Paul said. He seemed like a smart guy. He reminded Abel of Tomás.
Paul worked until six and then left for home. Between six and seven, Claudia and Abel worked. (Elena Suarez then usually kept the shop open until around eight. A few customers came in the evening to buy half-priced donuts for the next morning.) Right after Paul left, Abel was at the counter when the big man came in for his three dozen donuts. He grinned at Abel and asked, “You’re new, huh? I come here every day. I bring donuts in for the guys at the factory where I work. Ah, let’s see now, what do I want?”
A slender, impatient-looking woman was already in line behind the big man. She was shifting her weight from one foot to the other.
“How about a dozen chocolate and a dozen glazed?” Abel suggested. “And the rest assorted.”
“Ahhh, those nutty ones look awfully good,” the big man commented. “Let’s have a half dozen of those. Let me see . . .. . .”
The woman behind him was sighing. All she wanted was a donut and coffee.
“I can help you here,” Claudia said to her, coming in after a break. The woman rushed over to make her purchase and she rushed out, her high heels clicking on the floor.
“Umm, like maybe four of those jelly ones,” the man went on, “and the ones with sprinkles on the top, half dozen of those.” He was peering into the display case. “How many I got now?”
Abel’s head was spinning. He hadn’t been keeping track. “Um, let’s see,” Abel counted. “You got sixteen so far.”
A line was forming again. Two rough-looking workmen waited behind a pair of teenagers in baggy clothing with tattoos on their hands. One of the boys had a shaved head and a tat of a dragon on the back of his hand.
“Let’s put one of each kind in here,” Abel suggested, “and then we got three dozen.”
“Hey, not so fast!” the big man complained. “The boys down at the factory don’t like those filled ones.”
“Hey man,” complained the boy with the dragon tattoo. “Hurry it up. We ain’t got all night.”
The big man turned and looked indignantly at the boy. “I’m sure you have very important things to do,” he responded in a snide voice. “Like maybe tag some fences or maybe rob a liquor store.”
“I can help you guys over here,” Claudia sang out with her warm smile. As she gave the teenagers their change, one of them snarled, “Puerco! Maybe he shouldn’t eat three boxes of donuts!”
The big man turned, seeming to spoil for a fight. But the boys were already going out the door.
“Dirty little punks,” he fumed. “Gangbangers. Lousy little criminals. You think they ever went to work in their stinking lives? Probably got a mom who’s a welfare queen, milkin’ the system and living off working guys like me.” He paid for his three dozen donuts and stomped out of the store.
Abel turned to Claudia. “Boy Claudia, you were good,” he complimented her. “I was afraid there’d be a fight in here.”
“That big man,” Claudia explained. “He’s very rude. He doesn’t care how many people he keeps waiting. He’s going to take his sweet time. But he’s a customer, and we have to be nice to the customers.”
Abel couldn’t remember seeing Claudia at Cesar Chavez High School. She looked to be about sixteen. If she was, then she was a junior like Abel. But he never saw her in any of his classes or even on campus. “You go to school at Chavez?” he asked her.
“No, I’m a junior at a private school. Catholic,” she replied.
“Isn’t that real expensive?” Abel asked.
“Yeah,” Claudia admitted, “but they let me do stuff around the school to help with the tuition. And then I work so I can help my parents with the cost. I’m an only child, and my parents put all their hopes and dreams on me. They want to protect me, I guess. You go to Chavez, Abel?”
“Yeah,” Abel answered. “I live around here, on Sparrow. I can walk to school and here.”
“Is Chavez a good school?” Claudia asked.
“Yeah, it’s okay. We got some good teachers. I got this real good friend there, Ernie. His dad teaches history, and he’s great. I like his class a lot. But I’m not a real great student,” Abel said with a dry laugh. “I guess I’m not real great at anything.”
“Oh, don’t say that,” Claudia objected. Her big, beautiful brown eyes kept getting Abel’s attention. She had a lovely little heart-shaped face and clear light mocha skin. “I bet you’re good at a lot of things. I can tell right off that you’re a nice guy, and that’s worth a lot. I can spot a phony a mile off, and you’re the real thing.”
Her compliment touched Abel. He didn’t get many of them. “Thanks,” he said. Abel never had a girlfriend in high school. Today, for the first time, he met a girl he thought maybe could be a friend. Abel thought it would be nice to know a girl he felt comfortable with and go for a pizza with . . . or something like that.
Abel and Claudia worked well together. She was friendly, courteous, and efficient. She taught Abel a lot of little things that Paul skipped over,. She told him to be sure he asked customers how many creams they wanted for their coffee and always to refill the cream thermos on the counter.
Elena showed up at seven. “Well, Abel, how did your first shift go?” she inquired.
“It was good,” Abel reported. “I liked it.”
“He was very good, Elena,” Claudia piped up. “That big guy who’s always wanting three dozen donuts came in. Then we got a little busy, but Abel kept cool and got everybody taken care of. Coupla kids with shaved heads and tats came in and gave the big man a hard time, but Abel kept the lid on everything.”
“Well, good,” Elena said, smiling at Abel. “I had a good feeling about you. I knew right away you’d do well.”
Elena checked the tip jar. Eight dollars were already in there. “When you come in on Friday, Abel, I’ll give you your share. Probably be more than five dollars.”
When Elena went into the back room, Abel looked at Claudia with a questioning look. She’d made Abel sound good, much better than he was. Claudia, not Abel, had kept things moving and cool. Abel was touched by what a nice girl she was. Maybe, he thought, she sort of liked him. He found that notion hard to believe, but maybe it was so. She was a pretty girl but not strikingly beautiful like Naomi Martinez. Naomi turned heads wherever she went. But maybe Claudia didn’t have that many guys interested in her. Maybe, Abel thought, he had a chance with her.
Or maybe Claudia was just being nice because Abel was new. Maybe she wanted to give the new guy a leg up. Maybe she meant to do no more than that.
With his share of the tips, Abel figured he earned about twenty dollars today. In five working days, he could have a hundred. Abel’s heart raced at the idea. A hundred dollars didn’t add up to a fortune by any means, but it did add up. Aunt Marla usually gave Abel fifty dollars for his birthday and for Christmas. He’d been saving that. Other relatives gave him socks, but Aunt Marla gave him nice, crisp bills. Abel had about six hundred saved from his aunt’s gifts.
Abel sometimes had a fantasy about going to Aunt Marla’s cozy little condo on Cardinal Street and begging her to let him move in with her. Then he wouldn’t get so depressed listening to Mom putting Dad down and Dad taking it like a poor mule. At Aunt Marla’s, he wouldn’t have to hear Mom comparing Abel to Tomás and wondering why Abel couldn’t be more like his brother. He wouldn’t have to put up with one of Penelope’s tantrums over a zit on her nose.
Cardinal Street was the nicest street in the barrio. It was at the very end of Tremayne. On that street, all the old single-family homes that had outlived their usefulness had been torn down and replaced by stylish condos with a Spanish architecture motif. The condos even had pools. On hot summer days, Abel imagined himself going swimming.
When Abel got home after work, Mom was finishing another beautiful scarf that would sell at the boutique for more than Dad made in three days.
“How was your job, Abel?” Mom asked. “Did everything go all right?” She was frowning, and worry underscored her eyes. She clearly expected that Abel had had problems of some form or another on his first day. Abel suspected that she was just hoping and praying the problems were not too serious. She feared he may have already been fired. She loved Abel dearly, just as she loved Tomás and Penelope. In fact, deep in her heart, she loved Abel more because she thought he was so weak and inept. She worried about his making his way in the world.
“Everything went great, Mom!” Abel declared. “I like working there, and the people are nice. Elena, the boss, she’s real good. This guy Paul broke me in, and this girl Claudia, she’s really sweet. They showed me all the little things I needed to know, and it was fun dealing with the customers. It was sorta like serving donuts to the people after mass, Mom. Everybody was nice and friendly.” Abel had a big smile on his face, and usually he didn’t.
Mom was surprised, even disconcerted, by Abel’s enthusiasm. She was used to Abel looking glum. “Well, that’s wonderful,” she responded. Then her worries took over. “You’re telling me the truth, aren’t you, Abel? I mean, I hope you’re not making this all up just to make me feel good. They didn’t actually let you go in the first hour or something?”
Mom caught herself and explained her reaction to Abel. “When your dad and I were first married, before I got my cousin to hire him, he’d lie about how he was doing at his various jobs. He just didn’t want to worry me. I mean, it’s hard to believe things went that well on your very first shift at the donut shop.”
“It’s true, Mom. Everything was great,” Abel asserted, feeling very angry.
“Abel,” his mother persisted, “do you remember that time our church asked people to deliver the Thanksgiving baskets to the poor families? You got all mixed up. You delivered the small turkeys to the huge families and the big twenty-pound turkeys to the old couples who had tiny ovens. I’ve come to expect things don’t always go well for you . . .. . .”
“Mom, I was ten years old,” Abel protested with disgust. Mom had a way of deflating his best moods. He figured if he ever won a million dollars in the lottery when he was old enough to play, Mom would find a way to ruin the moment. “Honest, Mom, I had a good day at the donut shop, and everything is fine. It’s all good.” He headed for his room, deeply angry. He feared he would say something to his mother that he would later regret.
Penelope stopped Abel in the hallway before he got to his room. “Did you bring me a chocolate donut like you promised you would, Abel?” she demanded. She stood there, her hands on her hips, looking belligerent. “Yes,” Abel thought but didn’t say, “she is getting fat!”
“I bet you forgot!” she accused him. “You always forget! You’re just like Daddy!”
“Penny, I didn’t forget,” Abel told her. “I just didn’t do it, and I never promised you I would. A donut would’ve cost me a dollar. I didn’t feel like spending a dollar to bring you home a donut that you don’t need. You’ve been eating chocolate bars in your room. I saw the wrappers on the floor.”
“Don’t snitch on me!” Penelope warned. “Anyways, I thought they gave you donuts free when you work there.”
“No, I woulda had to spend a dollar,” Abel said.
“Well, don’t ask me for any favors, Abel,” Penelope snapped. “If you can’t even buy me a lousy chocolate donut, don’t expect any favors from me.”
“When did you ever do me any favors?” Abel asked his sister as he was finally able to escape to his room.
Abel knew you were supposed to love your family, and he did. He loved his parents because they were good people, and they loved him and took care of him. He loved his brother and sister too. What was love anyway? Wasn’t it just wishing well for people and wanting them to be happy? Abel wanted all the people in his family to be as happy as they could be.
But Abel didn’t like any of them very much. Liking people, to Abel, meant wanting to spend time with them, and Abel didn’t enjoy the time he spent with his family. Dad was always depressing Abel with his pyramid stories. He was always dooming Abel to a life at the bottom of the pyramid with all the other miserable losers. No matter how much Abel struggled and clawed, he’d never get to the pinnacle of the pyramid. Mom was absolutely sure of Abel’s incompetence at whatever he tried. Penelope was a self-centered little brat. And Tomás . . . well, Tomás looked down on Abel. Tomás regarded Abel not in a mean way, but as arrogant and kindly rich people look down on the poor as they toss them coins. “Here, poor fool,” Abel could picture his brother saying, “I know you’ll waste this precious quarter I’m giving you, but go for it.”
When Abel went to school on Friday, he was actually looking forward to the afternoon and going to work at the donut shop. Working with Claudia was a big plus. But just being there with her would be fun.
At lunch with Ernesto and Ernie’s friend from the track team, Julio Avila, Abel talked about his new job. “I really like my job,” Abel announced. “It’s the best thing that happened to me in a long time.”
“Great!” Ernesto said. “That’s how I felt when I got the job in the pizzeria. It’s kinda fun, and the money sure comes in handy. They like you, huh Abel? I knew they would. You’re low-key, but the friendliness in you really comes through. I bet you’re great with the customers.”
Abel looked at his friend gratefully. Those words meant so much to him: “They like you, huh Abel? I knew they would.” That’s how Ernesto was. He could make you feel like a million dollars when you started out feeling like two cents. Abel had no close friend until Ernesto came on campus a few months ago. The boys hit it off together at once. Now Abel had the feeling there was nothing Ernesto wouldn’t do for him, and he felt the same toward Ernesto.
“There’s a girl down there, Claudia Villa,” Abel continued. “She’s extra nice. She’s got these big beautiful brown eyes. She wears these big round glasses, and she’s so cute . . .. . .”
“Uh-oh!” Julio Avila exclaimed.
Abel looked at Julio. “Uh-oh what?” he asked.
Julio laughed and spoke to Ernesto. “Our amigo is falling for a chick,” he chuckled. “All the signs are there.”
“Nah, nothing like that,” Abel protested, laughing too. “But she’s so nice and friendly. And she really talked me up to the boss, made me look good. She praised me more than I deserved.”
“She go to Chavez?” Ernesto asked.
“No, she goes to a private school,” Abel replied. “She said she’s an only child and her parents want to protect her by sending her to this private school. She said they’re making a lot of sacrifices to afford the tuition. It costs a lot, and Claudia works at the donut shop to help pay for it.”
Ernesto clapped Abel on the back. “I’m happy for you man. Nothing like nailing down that first job. It’s like welcome to the working world. Before that you’re a kid, and now we’re wage slaves. Hooray!”
After the last bell that day, Abel hurried over to Elena’s Donut Shop a little earlier than he had to. He didn’t want to risk being late. But when he walked in, he was struck by the strange atmosphere. The place wasn’t as cheerful and happy as it was on Wednesday.
Elena Suarez looked stressed, like she was having a problem. Neither Paul Morales nor Claudia Villa had arrived yet. They weren’t due until four, about ten minutes away.
Elena’s face was red. She was madly going through the cash drawer, counting and recounting. She looked up at Abel and said, “There’s a problem. Some money is missing. I’m missing a hundred dollars from Wednesday’s receipts.”
Abel felt like somebody had just dumped a bucket of ice water on his head. He stood there, stunned.
Did she think he took the money?