Chapter 21

“Dos,” Tony said to the teenage boy, not much taller than Tony, standing behind the corn cart. The smell of roasting corn reminded me that I hadn’t eaten in a while. Maybe that was why I got so upset back there in that crowd. I hadn’t really been afraid. I was just shaky from being hungry. Either way, the sweet smells coming from the cart were reminding me that this town had its positives and its negatives.

Tony handed me the corn covered in chili powder, lime, salt, and pepper. He shooed away my money, then took a big bite of his snack. Through corn-filled lips he asked, “So, where else have you been in Mexico?”

I was savoring a burnt kernel covered in lime when the question hit me. “Um, I guess I’ve only ever been here. Why?”

Tony started to walk more slowly as the juice from the corn dribbled down his arm. “Just some comments you made here and there about Mexico. Tijuana is really not Mexico. Know what I mean?”

I thought about it as I took another bite. “No?”

“Tijuana is all tourists, and cement, and . . . well, it’s really kinda ugly. Actually most places Americans go aren’t like the real Mexico.”

I laughed at Tony. “Aren’t you an American?”

“Hmm . . . I guess I had never thought of myself that way, but I guess I am. I just always think of Americans as tourists with a lot of money.”

“Even when you’re in America?” I asked.

“Nah. In America I feel even more Mexican than here, but the Americans aren’t really very touristy in Fullerton.” Tony licked the drizzle of juice off his arm.

“Okay, so if this isn’t ‘Mexico,’ then what is?” I saw from the smile that was dancing on his lips that I had asked the right question.

“Mexico is green and brown. It’s little villages with big farms, and lots of grass, and towns where electricity is something not everyone has. It’s spicy chilis, juicy tomatoes, and light tortillas. It’s music, and laughter, and pride. People just forget all that stuff. Don’t ya think?”

I thought about my father and what Nana had said to him. I was beginning to think he was one of the people who had forgotten.