Chapter Twenty-Three

Once we have the approval from Jenny’s dance teacher to hold our bake sale at their recital, the Sea Musketeers go to work. Each person in the group is responsible for bringing at least one item for the bake sale. Jenny’s already decided on Vietnamese donuts, and Stanley’s bringing limeade. Stanley says you can’t find good limeade outside of Texas and that his limeade “is going to blow everyone’s minds.”

Even Linda signs on to help. She’s inspired by our tote bags and agrees to make a few, but out of yarn. While Mom and I plan on making more tote bags, Mom has the idea to include a free instructional guide at the bake sale on how to make an easy tote bag. That way if people don’t want to buy a bag, they can still learn to make their own.

I even ask Dad for money when he finally calls to thank me for his present from Mexico. After I tell him about the tasty chapulines, I tell him about my crusade. I ask Dad to stop using plastic straws and bags.

He responds, “I’ll try.”

I’m a little skeptical, but he could surprise me.

When I go to the next Sea Musketeer’s meeting, I discover that Mariel lives not that far from me. She only lives a little bit closer to downtown Chicago than I do. Since our meeting is on a Saturday, Mom drops me off.

I can hear salsa music from the front door of Mariel’s house. I knock cautiously. My first knock is too soft so Mom has to knock again.

An old woman answers the door. She’s wearing a giant shawl around her shoulders.

“¿Quién es?”

“I’m Stella.” The old woman doesn’t respond.

“Me llamo Stella,” I repeat, this time in Spanish. She looks confused.

Mom steps in.

“Buenos días, señora. Estamos buscando a Mariel.”

“Sí,” I say, agreeing that we’re looking for a Mariel.

“Ahh, sí, la amiga de Mariel. Mucho gusto.”

The old woman says this in a way that’s easy for me to follow. I’m sort of shocked, though, by what she says. Then she leans away from the door.

“Mi amorcita? Es tu amiguita.”

This old woman just called me Mariel’s friend twice. She must be mistaken or not know Mariel too well because we’re clearly not friends yet.

“Un momento, abuelita.” I hear Mariel saying that she’ll only be a moment to her grandmother. This makes sense. The old woman reminds me of a friendlier version of my own abuela.

“Por favor, entra,” Mariel’s grandmother says, welcoming us inside.

Mom turns to me. “Do you want me to wait with you?”

“I’m okay. I understand her,” I reply.

Mom kisses me on the top of the head and leaves. Mariel’s grandmother tells me in Spanish to sit on the couch and that Mariel will be there soon.

While I wait, I study Mariel’s house. It’s brightly colored in oranges and pinks. It almost looks tropical with all the wicker and plants. I even see a parrot the color of a mango in a cage.

Mariel enters the living room. “Good, you’re on time.”

I’m always on time, I think.

Instead I reply, “Is that your abuela?”

“Yeah, she moved in with us this year from Puerto Rico. She’s getting older, and with the hurricanes, my parents decided she should move in with us.”

“Wow,” I reply.

Mariel nods. “It’s nice to have her with us. We just moved to Chicago. She’s like having a piece of home here.”

“I didn’t know you were new here,” I reply.

“My dad got a new job, but I don’t really like it here. I miss all my friends in Florida. I had a bunch of friends who I could speak Spanish with. I also miss the ocean.”

Mariel slumps forward a little. Suddenly, I understand her a bit better. She wasn’t upset with me that first day because I didn’t speak Spanish. She was just disappointed that I wasn’t exactly like one of her friends back in Miami. Maybe I should worry less about whether I fit in with other Latinos or not.

“Well, I don’t speak Spanish perfectly, but I’ll be your friend. Maybe you can help me get better at speaking español, too.”

Mariel’s eyes sparkle a little.

“I’d like that,” she replies.

“My Mexico trip is the first time I ever swam in the ocean. And I already miss it. I understand why you miss it so much.”

“Yeah, I could see all these tropical fishes, especially when we went to Key West.”

“Amazing,” I reply.

Before the rest of the kids show up, Mariel shows me some of the pictures she’s taken of fishes underwater. I spy a blue tang and a banded butterfish. There is even a picture of a spiny lobster. Spiny lobsters are different from regular lobsters because they don’t have claws. Instead they have two huge armor-plated antennae. Her shark pictures probably scare me the most, but it does remind me of a “conversation starter” I wrote down.

“Did you know that sharks and dolphins are lighter on the bottom and darker on the top so they can camouflage themselves in the water?”

“I didn’t know that. Tell me more,” says Mariel.

Secretly, I squeal. That was one of the conversation starters I had planned to use at school, but this seems like the best time to really start a conversation.

“Well, when you’re on top of the water looking down things look dark, but when you’re swimming underwater, things look lighter because you’re looking up at the sun.”

“Wow, I never realized that. You’re right!”

I smile. It feels nice to have finally started a real conversation with Mariel.

When the rest of the Sea Musketeers show up, we spend the afternoon making a giant banner and a list of everything we’ll need.

“We’ll need pens. I’ll bring those,” says Kristen.

“And I can bring plastic plates and cups,” says Jenny.

“No.” Logan shakes his head. “That just creates more plastic waste.”

Jenny looks embarrassed. I quickly say, “It’s okay. Could you bring some paper napkins instead?”

She nods her head.

“Let’s try to keep all the treats handheld. And display them on reusable trays,” adds Kristen. “That way we’re not being wasteful.”

Stanley pouts a little. “I guess I’ll bring more M&M cookies instead of limeade.”

“Maybe you could bring limeade for us,” I say. “We’ll bring reusable cups.”

Logan replies, “Good idea. I’ll wash them, too!”

“It’ll keep team spirits high,” says Mariel, smiling.

Then Kristen shows us the blog with our pledge again, and we all approve.

As everyone works on banners and posters, I come to a new realization. I am almost glad that saving the oceans is something I can’t do alone. While I wish I could fix the oceans with a snap of my fingers, working with others and making new friends is pretty fun.