“What’s all this?” Mr. Epifaño’s voice was louder than Trino had ever heard it before.
Trino quickly tossed aside the car magazine he had found behind some boxes. He felt stupid for getting caught when he had only stopped working a couple of minutes ago to flip through the magazine.
“What?” He looked at the old man and shrugged, trying to hide his embarrassment. “I cleaned up the room—just like you told me.”
“You call this clean?” Mr. Epifaño pointed with the hand that wasn’t trapped in a sling.
“I told you to put stuff away. Mira—look here.” He limped over to the boxes that Trino had shoved in the corner. “Some of these boxes are empty. Why didn’t you throw them outside in the dumpster?”
Trino shrugged again. “You didn’t tell me that I could throw stuff away.”
“And I thought you were going to sweep the floor,” the man said, pointing towards the warped gray tiles that he and Trino stood upon.
“I swept up.” Trino looked down. The floor in the storeroom was so old, how could anyone tell if it was clean or dirty?
Using one foot, Mr. Epifaño moved a box aside. He slid it closer to the wall. A thin, long mound of dirt was left behind. It outlined the space where Trino had just swept dirt to the edges and left the middle space cleaner.
“You want me to pay you, you got to do things right, boy. And you got to use your cabeza. I shouldn’t have to say ‘throw this away,’ or move the boxes as you sweep up the room. ¿Entiendes?”
“Yeah—okay,” Trino mumbled, knowing he was going to have to start the job all over.
He wondered what time it was. He wanted to get out of here before twelve.
Mr. Epifaño slowly turned around. “Yeah, empty boxes toss out—oh! And the dirt on the floor? You can throw that away, too. Nobody wants to buy my dirt, you know?”
Trino noticed the old man’s grin. “I’m not that stupid, Mr. Epifaño.” He hated it when someone thought he was dumb. He glared at Mr. Epifaño’s face, wishing to burn a hole in it.
Only Mr. Epifaño didn’t care. He shuffled out of the storeroom making noises that sounded like laughter.
Trino cussed out his anger about working harder as he started to shove boxes around and pile up the ones that could be tossed in the dumpster. He ran into the magazine again, and thought he should steal it—the cover was ripped up and the date on the front was a year old. But he had no jacket or baggy shirt to hide it while he walked out of the store. Trino just hid it on top of a shelf, in case he worked here another day.
He swept again and stacked the filled boxes in rows against the wall. After he carried the empty boxes outside, he used his cabeza to see that he needed to flatten the boxes so they’d fit in the dumpster. Trino went back into the store to see the lighted clock that hung on the wall behind the cash register. Eleven-fifteen.
He heard the door to the store open and glanced behind him. It was his brother, Félix, coming inside. Trino quickly ran back into the storeroom, hoping Mr. Epifaño wouldn’t make a connection between the boys. No one in the family knew that Trino had taken this job. He wanted this money for himself. This morning he had told his mother that yesterday he had run into Rogelio—which wasn’t a lie—and they were going to help Rogelio’s grandmother clean up and move some furniture around. Not a “big” lie since he was cleaning and moving stuff around.
Trino walked behind the boxes and waited. He listened for the sounds of the video game machines, but didn’t hear anything. Maybe Félix came in to buy a candy bar or something. It seemed like Trino waited a long time before he peeked into the store, looking for his brother. Félix was gone, and Trino sighed in relief.
“I’m finished, Mr. Epifaño,” he said, coming out of the storeroom. “When do you want me to come again?”
The store owner was straightening the magazines in front of the counter. “I need to put new stuff on the shelves. Can you stay longer?”
Trino shook his head. His mother expected him to be home by noon. Anyway, he wasn’t going to give up a whole Sunday until he knew he’d make some decent money. At least with his job with Nick, he knew he’d get twenty dollars. Mr. Epifaño still hadn’t given him anything, yet Trino didn’t want to make the guy mad at him and get nothing. “I got some things I have to do today for my mom, but I could come back tomorrow after school.”
“Manaña, ¿eh?” The old man seemed to be chewing over Trino’s idea as he pursed his lips together and rubbed his chin. Finally, he nodded, then moved away to straighten up the candy boxes on a nearby shelf.
Trino stood still, watching the man. He waited for Mr. Epifaño to say something about paying him for today’s work. He hadn’t realized how long he stood in the same spot until a customer behind him said, “Get out of the way, kid, so I can pay for my stuff.”
He jumped a little, then stepped closer to the magazine rack, so a fat man could waddle closer. Mr. Epifaño came back around the counter, saying nothing to Trino when he passed him. He rang up the man’s cokes and chips, got paid, then shut the cash register again.
Still Trino waited for Mr. Epifaño to talk to him. Instead, the old man sized him up.
“¡Qué!” The old man spit out the word.
Trino wanted something for cleaning up. Finally, he decided just to hold out his hand and say, “Do I get some money for my work today?”
The old man rubbed his runny nose, wiped his hand on his pants, and finally punched a couple of buttons on the cash register. “Will you come back?”
“I said I would.” Trino glanced at the clock. It was almost twelve, and he was getting annoyed by the old man. Why did he move so slow?
Finally, Mr. Epifaño held out two faded bills to Trino. They looked so old, Trino wondered if the bills had been Mr. Epifaño’s money when he was a boy. But it was still cash, so Trino took it.
“Manaña,” Trino said, then shoved the old dollars into his pocket as he walked out the front door of the store. “Two bucks,” he muttered to himself and sighed. But at least it was all his money, not something he had to give to his mom.
As he walked down the sidewalk, he noticed the two boys walking toward him. His black eyebrows raised a little as he recognized them. He wondered if they would even speak to him.
One of the boys was named Jimmy, a tall, slim kid who had been friendly whenever his sister, Lisana, stopped to talk to Trino. From the first time they had met, Trino had noticed that Jimmy walked with his head up and back straight. It wasn’t like he was trying to look mean or pretending to be cool. Lisana had that same way about her, only one of many reasons why Trino liked to be around her.
The other boy was called Hector, and he was in Trino’s history class third period. After Trino had met Lisana and her friends, Hector had tried to talk to him in class, but Zipper had run him off. He hadn’t talked to either boy since Zipper had gotten killed. Only Lisana knew the true story about what happened that night, and he had spoken three times to her at school since then.
Because of Lisana, Trino decided to say, “Hey, how’s it going?” He looked into the boys’ faces, hoping they might stop and talk a while.
They both looked him over with their dark eyes. Jimmy said, “Hey, man,” and Hector shrugged his thick shoulders together. But they just kept walking, both of them stepping out of Trino’s path.
Their brush-off made Trino mad.
Screw ’em, he thought, and just kept walking towards home.
In the six weeks since Nick had become a regular visitor at their house trailer, Trino had never heard his mom yell at Nick. She’d give him her dirty look or she’d argue about something he wanted to do that cost money she didn’t have. As Trino reached the trailer today, he heard his mother’s voice, and she sounded plenty mad. And she was using Nick’s name a lot as she yelled.
“Nick, what’s the matter with you? You think I’m not trying to find a job, Nick? I go out every day and look for work. I got some hungry boys to feed, Nick.”
Trino’s gut feeling was not to walk inside, but his mother saw him through the screen door.
“Trino! Get inside here. Where have you been all morning?”
Once inside the cramped trailer, he realized why his mother was yelling. Gus and Beto had the TV going full blast. Nick knelt behind the TV. He had pushed it away from the wall, so Beto and Gus were almost sitting under the kitchen table in order to watch it from the odd angle.
“I was out moving stuff—I told you about Rogelio’s abuela, remember?” Trino found himself yelling in order to hear himself over the TV. He turned towards Nick and said, “Does the TV have to be so loud?”
Suddenly, the TV went dark and the room got quiet.
“Hey!” both boys groaned together.
“Well, I guess that was the wrong knob to turn,” Nick said, and frowned at the backside of the television. He scratched his head and sighed.
“We can’t watch TV?” Beto asked, his little brown face looking sad and disappointed.
“Maybe later. You niños go outside and play now,” Nick said, and stood up. He clapped his hands. “Come on! You heard me! Go outside and play.” His voice sounded like he was mad, too. Trino wondered if he should follow his brothers out the door. He didn’t want to get in the middle of whatever fight his mom and Nick were having.
“Did you have to break our TV, Nick?”
“I didn’t break your TV. It was already broken. What good is a TV that’s so fuzzy everyone looks like they’re covered in cotton balls? I still think there’s a loose wire. I’ll find it. Then I need to fix that knob for the volume. Your boys are going to go deaf, María.” He crossed his arms and fixed his gaze upon her. “And you’re changing the subject. We were talking about that job at the college.”
Trino’s eyebrows raised. His mother working at a college?
“What’s he talking about, Mom?” he asked her.
His mother just shook her head and turned her back on Nick and Trino. She walked to the stove and started wiping it down with a rag.
Trino looked at Nick, but the man just ignored Trino and followed Trino’s mom into the kitchen area.
“María, you’re crazy not to apply for the job.”
“I couldn’t work in a place like that. Me, I only got to the tenth grade. How could I be around those smart people?”
“Even smart people need someone to clean up their rooms, María.”
“Leave me alone, Nick. I don’t want to work at the college. I’d feel too stupid around people like that. I can find my own job.” His mother’s voice got louder. “I don’t need you coming in here telling me to get a job and—and—breaking our TV! Why don’t you just go home?”
“Be that way!” Nick’s voice got loud too. “I got myself out of dead-end jobs. I just wanted to help you do the same thing.” He seemed to catch his breath, then his voice grew more even, but he still had more to say. “I really like my job in the Physical Plant. I know Housekeeping could use you, María. I could help you get on there—”
“I don’t need your help. I don’t need nothing from you.” She turned from the stove and threw the rag at Nick. It plopped against Nick’s chest, leaving a damp spot on his blue shirt. Nick caught the rag before it fell on the floor. He tossed it on the stove, and just turned to walk out the door. He let the screen door slam behind him.
For the first time, Trino felt sorry for Nick. It seemed like he was trying to help, but his mom was being mean to him. Why was she acting like that?
Trino decided it was better not to ask. If she was mad enough to throw the rag at Nick, she might be mad enough to hit Trino if he said anything she didn’t like. Even though he felt hungry, Trino followed Nick’s example and walked out of the trailer.
He watched Nick’s red truck rumble out of the parking lot and couldn’t help but wonder if Nick would ever come back.
Usually when Trino’s mom was mad, she’d yell and hit them for any reason. And after Nick had gone, Trino decided if she started picking on them, he’d take his little brothers over to the park to get away from her. Only Trino’s mom didn’t act mean after her fight with Nick. Her face just looked sad. She said nothing as she spread peanut butter on bread slices and poured four glasses of milk. Even when Félix sloshed milk down his T-shirt, she just tossed him a dish towel and walked back to the bedroom. She didn’t come out until her comadre Irene showed up about an hour later. By then, Gus had fallen asleep on the sofa and Beto was bugging Félix to take him some place. Trino had been fiddling with the TV, trying to fix it, and getting frustrated because he couldn’t.
Irene’s visits were always an occasion. She worked at a candy factory and usually had a bag of damaged candy boxes for them. She was a fat young woman, leading Trino or Félix always to remark that she must eat more of the candy than she packaged.
She only knocked on the screen door once, before she came into the trailer. Her neon pink T-shirt was pulled tight over the wide hips bulging out of her blue jeans. She swung a faded canvas bag in one hand and carried a black backpack purse in the other.
“Tía Reenie!” Beto called out and started dancing around her. “Tía Reenie, did you bring us candy?”
“No dulcecitos ’til I get my besitos.” She tapped one of her fat brown cheeks, and leaned closer for Beto to kiss her. “¿Besitos? Ay, that was a sweet besito.” Suddenly, she grabbed poor skinny Beto and pressed him against her big breasts. “There’s nobody that kisses like my Betito. I just won’t get married until Betito can be my husband.”
Then she let Beto go and turned her eyes to Trino and Félix, standing by the TV. “I only give candies to the godsons who kiss me.”
Félix and Trino exchanged a pair of worried looks. Neither one of them liked to hug Irene because she crushed you. Her short black hair was itchy. She also smelled like cigarettes and coconut candy. It was a nauseating combination that made you suck air for at least ten minutes.
Luckily, Trino’s mom came out of the bedroom, and Tía Reenie decided to hug her instead. “Ay, comadre, aren’t you eating anything? You’re as skinny as my clothesline pole.”
Trino’s mom gave a little smile to her friend, the woman who was godmother to all of her sons. “How are you, Irene? It’s been weeks since you’ve come by. ¿Por qué?”
“Well, overtime, that’s why. You know how it is, comadre. If the boss says he can give you a little extra, you take it, no?” She clapped her hands loudly as she saw Beto climbing on a chair to reach the canvas bag she had left on top of the table among the dirty milk glasses, smears of peanut butter and crumbs. “Hey, boy, don’t you be taking anything from the bag until I tell you to.”
“I gave you a kiss. I want my candy,” Beto told her, his black eyes giving her a serious stare.
This visit Irene had brought more than candy. She had a baseball cap for Félix and a extra-huge green T-shirt for Trino. “My ex-boyfriend left them behind—that two-timing dog. But here—you can wear them.” There was a halffilled bottle of bubbles for Gus, who woke up from his nap. She had brought a hair brush for their mom. There were blonde strands tangled in its bristles. “This is how I knew the liar was cheating on me. Do I look like a blonde? Take it, comadre. You’ve got pretty hair. Mine! There’s no hope for it. It’s a miracle the birds don’t nest there.” Beto got a bag of odd-sized colored chalk pieces. “Now you can have fun, mijo, and don’t worry if the colors break. That’s the trouble with new things. You’re afraid to mess them up. But my presents are broken in—ready to use.”
“Trino, take Gus outside with the bubbles, so they don’t spill inside. And be sure that Beto doesn’t use the chalk on stuff that won’t wash off. Go on! All of you outside, so I can visit with Irene in peace,” their mother said. She looked tired, but her voice was firm.
“But what about our candy?” Beto asked, only to have his mother push his hand away and pull him down from the table.
“Come on, let’s go outside. We can eat candy later.” Trino held the bag of broken chalk in one hand and grabbed Beto’s arm with the other. The little boy whimpered like a sad puppy. Gus followed them out the door clutching his red bottle of bubbles in his little hands.
As soon as they were outside, Félix put on his “new” cap and said, “I’m going to Nacho’s. Later.”
Trino put the bag of chalk down on a strip of cement that had once been a curb. “Here, Beto. This is a good place to draw stuff.”
“Bubbles! Do bubbles, Trino,” Gus said, twisting his fingers around the lid, but not able to open the bottle.
The cap was stuck, but Trino finally got it open. The bottle was half-empty, but at least the plastic wand wasn’t broken. He handed the bottle to Gus, then wandered towards the shade of the tree near the back of the house trailer. Gus spilled more bubble juice on himself than he ever blew out. Beto had chalk smeared on his arms, his face, even in the black hair that hung down his forehead. Not thinking much about anything, Trino pressed his back against the tree. His eyes passed over the small open window of his mother’s bedroom as he heard women’s voices.
“Comadre, he told you about a job and you sent him away? Are you crazy?”
“How can I go over there for a job? I didn’t even finish high school. And I’m sure the application form is filled with college words I can’t even read. And my writing is so awful. Even Beto’s first-grade printing is better than mine.”
“But, María, you can do the hard cleaning jobs. You’re young and strong, even if you are on the skinny side. Look at me, comadre. All I’m good for is sitting on my butt and wrapping candies. Anyway, you need to get something better ’cause you got to feed four kids.”
“Irene, I just can’t go over to there. What would I wear to talk to a man about a job? I haven’t bought anything for me in years. I worked in uniforms, and I got by with clothes my sisters didn’t want.”
“Comadre, I got a few good dresses. Maybe one would fit you.”
Trino knew it would take three of his mother to fit into one of Tía Reenie’s dresses. He sighed as he reached into his pocket and pulled out his two dollars. He stared at the old bills, wishing he could plant them and grow a money tree right in his own back yard.