We met Uncle Jorge in his office at the restaurant. He showed us the letter we were supposed to deliver for Mr. Vaslov. Uncle Jorge had put it in his coat pocket beside another white envelope that morning.
“I wrote out my feelings in a letter,” Uncle Jorge said, “and taped the ring to the bottom.”
“And then you gave it to Mr. Vaslov’s brother?” Mom asked.
“Sí.” Uncle Jorge pulled his hair. “When I rang the doorbell, I handed over the wrong letter.”
“Mom’s going to be so disappointed.” Juanita sniffled.
“What?” Uncle Jorge asked. “Angela knows? How?”
“She was hoping,” Juanita explained. “You made such a big deal about meeting at Rockefeller Center tonight under the Christmas tree.”
“It’s where we went on our first date,” Uncle Jorge said.
“I know,” Juanita answered. “Romantic.”
“Not without the ring!” Uncle Jorge moaned.
“We can talk to Mr. Vaslov’s brother!” I touched my Zapato Power wristband. “We can get it back!”
“I hope so!” Uncle Jorge said. “That’s why I called you!”
We thought it would be faster to go on a city bus. But the traffic crawled. Police officers were in the streets, waving their arms and blowing whistles.
“Let’s get out,” Juanita said. “At least we’ll move on the sidewalk.”
I wanted to say that my Zapato Power could get me there in no time. Except I didn’t know where I was going. This wasn’t Starwood Park. I needed Juanita to help me find the address.
“How much farther?” Mom asked.
“Look at the signs,” Juanita explained. “The last cross street was 39th. This is 38th. Just keep counting till you get to where you want.”
So that was the secret to getting around New York!
By the time we reached the address on the envelope, Mom was pooped.
“I hope this building has an elevator,” she said.
It didn’t. Apartment 6D was six flights up.
“I need to rest.” Mom plopped down on the bottom step.
“Let me go ahead,” I said. “I can do the stairs in a flash.”
“You don’t know Mr. Vaslov’s brother,” Mom worried.
“But I know Mr. Vaslov,” I argued. “His brother must be nice too.”
Mom took the letter out of her purse. “This envelope has papers to help Mr. Vaslov’s family get a green card.”
Mr. Vaslov’s brother didn’t want Uncle Jorge’s diamond ring. He wanted to stay in the United States. It was time to make a trade.
“Please, Mom? I’ll be quick.”
She gave me the letter. “Okay, Freddie. Juanita and I will stay here.”
In a blink, I was outside Apartment 6D. A man and a woman were talking inside. I rubbed the buttons on my Zapato Power wristband so I could listen through the door.
“We’ve waited all day for the man with the colorful hat,” a woman said. “He didn’t come back for his diamond ring.”
“And the green card papers didn’t come from my brother,” a man’s voice said.
“He promised they would be delivered today,” the woman said. “What are we going to do?”
“Don’t worry!” I knocked on the door. “I have what you need. I’m a friend of Mr. Vaslov’s.”
“Who is that?” the man asked. “And how does he know what we need?”
For a minute, I thought I was going to have to admit that I had super hearing. But when Mr. Vaslov’s brother opened the door, he was so happy to get his green card papers he didn’t care how I knew so much. He let me explain Uncle Jorge’s mistake.
“Here!” he said. “Take the love letter and the diamond back to your uncle.”
Now everybody had what they wanted. Almost!
I ran down the stairs to Mom and Juanita.
“Come on!” I waved Uncle Jorge’s letter.
A bus came by and we got on. But there were still police officers with whistles and orange cone barriers everywhere.
“Somebody important must be in town.” Juanita pointed out the window at black limousines with flags.
“It looks like a motorcade,” Mom said.
“Oh no!” Juanita cried. “Mom’s going to be waiting under the Christmas tree, thinking Jorge forgot about her.”