Trino had told many lies in his life to look cool, or to act tough, or just to save his butt. But he couldn’t think of any lie that could save him now.
He looked at Hector, who wore the smiling face of somebody who had no idea that all his hard work was now just a pile of wet papers. Even if Trino tried to sneak back into the trailer again, he knew that what he found would be worthless. How could they give Coach a report that had been soaked by the rain falling through the hole in the bathroom ceiling?
It was Lisana who said, “Trino? Are you okay? Your face looks a little strange.”
He glanced at Lisana first, then at Hector. He saw Jimmy, Albert, and Amanda staring at him. These kids had acted like his friends today—bringing him stuff. They had worked together on the history projects, too. What would they think of him when he told Hector the truth?
Trino took a deep breath, then eyed Hector directly. The feelings that churned inside him were a nauseous combination of disappointment and nervousness. He had no idea how Hector would take it.
“Hector, the report was at my house. It’s flooded, man. The report’s flooded, too.”
“What? What are you telling me, Trino?”
“The report’s gone, Hector. That’s what I’m telling you. I left my books and stuff on the floor. When I went back inside, everything was flooded. Mud and water were everywhere.”
Hector’s face got red. “How could you be so stupid? Why didn’t you just leave the report in your locker?”
“I took it home to read it over again.”
“What!” Hector grabbed Trino’s arms in a tight grip. “Why did you do that?”
“Let go of me!” Trino jerked his shoulder to get Hector’s hands off of him. “You think I wanted this to happen?”
“Don’t you get it? Coach said that the report’s worth two test grades. If I flunk this, I’ll never get off the bench and play ball.”
“How can you be so selfish, Hector?” Lisana’s voice was deep with anger. Her face looked mad enough to hit someone—maybe even Hector. “Trino’s family’s lost everything! And all you can think about is that you’ll flunk and not be able to play basketball?”
“Lisana, wait—” Trino put his hand up near her shoulder. He knew Hector had a right to his feelings. “I know that Hector’s pretty mad—I’ve been feeling mad for the last two days, so I know how he feels.” He looked at his partner again. “Hector, I’m really sorry, man. I don’t know what we can do except to write it all over again.”
“By tomorrow? Are you crazy?” Hector sounded as if he was out of breath. “Man, I knew I should have kept the report. I just knew that something like this would happen.”
“Yeah, right.” Amanda gave Hector a roll of her eyes. “Like you knew a tree was going to fall on Trino’s trailer, and the rain would come in and ruin your report. Get real, Hector! It was an accident.”
“Yeah,” Jimmy said. “Don’t you think that Coach Treviño will understand—that it was an accident?”
“I think he will,” Amanda said.
“Well, I don’t!” Hector gave all of them an angry pass of his eyes. “I sit in front of the class. And I get to hear all the lame excuses that kids tell him. Do you really think he’s going to listen when I tell him that the report got trashed in Trino’s house when a tree came through the ceiling? It sounds crazy to me, and I even saw the mess on TV.”
“Well, if Coach saw it on TV, too, then you’ll probably be okay,” Amanda answered.
Hector threw up his hands and walked away from all of them.
But Trino followed him. “Hector, this isn’t just your project. It’s mine, too. What happened is crappy, but somehow, we still get to do the report. Why can’t we just talk about what we know? Think of Navarro. He walked into a room of gringos who couldn’t even speak his language, and he said—”
“We aren’t Navarro, Trino. We’re just two kids without a history report.” Hector spoke as if nothing would change his mind.
Trino lost his temper, then. “Man, you’re just going to quit, aren’t you? If I quit every time something didn’t work out like I planned, I’d probably be dead like Zipper. But I’m not a quitter, Hector. And you’re pretty stupid if you just give up and don’t at least try to explain what happened to Coach Treviño. What have we got to lose?”
Hector just waved Trino off, and stomped out of the gym.
“Lisana’s right. You’re selfish. You’re only thinking of yourself.”
Now Trino had no report and no partner. He shook his head and turned back around to where the others stood, staring at him.
“Hector’s being so stupid,” Jimmy said.
Trino shrugged, and put a tighter grip on the bags that Amanda and Jimmy had given him. There was silence, as if no one knew what to say next.
“I guess we’d better go,” Lisana said, shifting her weight from foot to foot. “We’ll see you in school tomorrow.”
“I don’t know.” Trino thought of facing Coach Treviño alone and slid right into a lie. “I’ll probably have to watch my brothers so my mom can work.”
“But the history reports start tomorrow,” Amanda said.
“Yes, Trino.” Lisana put her hand on Trino’s arm. “You’ve got to talk to Coach. He’ll probably let you turn it in late because of what happened.”
“I don’t know,” Trino repeated, because he honestly couldn’t tell if he’d go to school tomorrow. Even if his mother worked out something with Mala, Trino didn’t know if he wanted to go back. Maybe he’d skip school a few days, then just tell Coach “I didn’t do it.”
What did it matter if he got a zero for his work? He’d gotten a lot of zeroes from teachers and nothing bad ever happened. They were just numbers on a page.
Trino said good-bye to his friends, remembered to thank them for what they had brought, then he walked to a door labeled “Boys.” He sat by himself in the empty locker room.
For the long time that he sat there, Trino’s thoughts spun around him like a web. When Zipper died, he blamed himself because he couldn’t help his friend, couldn’t stop the bullet that killed him. Zipper was dead; there was nothing left to do for him. But why couldn’t he feel like there was nothing he could do about the stupid history report? Why did he feel like he had let another friend down?
Trino knew he had worked hard on the report, harder than he had ever worked at school to do something well. It showed who he was, and what he could do. He wanted to hang around with the guys and Lisana. He liked to be friends with them, having people to talk to and joke around with. He had lost so much since yesterday. He didn’t want to lose his friends, too.
If he didn’t go to school, didn’t try to explain what happened to Coach, would he lose the respect he’d worked so hard to gain? He’d gotten others to accept him in a better way, and now wasn’t the time to give up. He felt as if he was back on that old tree limb, inching his way across it. Even when the branch had broken, Trino had held tight, had gotten himself back to safe ground. He couldn’t let go, stop trying, just give up. Not now.
He had no idea how long he stayed in the locker room. When he came out, he was surprised to see Mr. Cummins talking to his mother and Nick. He didn’t know what to expect, but at least everyone was smiling.
“We have a place to live again,” Trino’s mom said when she saw him. “Mr. Cummins has a small trailer behind his that we can use for the next month. Since I had just paid him the rent money, he thought it was only fair.”
“It’ll give you a few weeks to make some plans. Maybe we can repair the roof of your trailer by then,” Mr. Cummins said. Then he took a step towards Trino. “Listen, son, I’ve been thinking about what you said outside the trailer. You said that you work with a man who cuts down trees. I sure could use you to clean up a couple of spots where branches fell. But I’m also worried about a couple of dead trees in the lot. Another good wind and they’ll be down on somebody’s house, too. What does your man charge?”
Trino glanced at Nick, who just gave him a nod of his chin. He took it to mean that it was up to Trino to set a price. He could get some decent money if Nick stuck to their bargain. And Trino had a good feeling that Nick was a man who stood behind his handshake.
“We usually get about seventy-five dollars a tree,” Trino said. “We charge extra if you want us to haul it to the dump. An extra twenty—to pay for the gas.”
“That’s pretty reasonable, Trino. Can you ask the man to call me soon?”
Trino smiled, feeling very pleased with himself. “He’s right here.” He gestured towards Nick. “Nick and I work together, Mr. Cummins.”
“Oh, I didn’t realize—I guess I should have asked you for a price.” Mr. Cummins looked from Trino to Nick and stepped backwards to face the taller man.
“No, Trino gave you our price. You can trust him,” Nick said, and placed his hand on Trino’s shoulder. “He does a good job cutting down trees, Mr. Cummins. I know you’ll be satisfied.”
“What’s in your bag, Trino?” Beto suddenly asked. The little boy poked his fingers at the brown bag Trino held by his side.
Trino felt so good inside that he smiled at his brother. “It’s some candy, Beto. My friends brought us some candy to eat. Do you want some?”
Not long after Mr. Cummins left, Mala came into the gym. She had seen them on TV and offered them her spare bedroom. “And of course, I’ll watch the boys when you start your new job.”
Then his mom’s family showed up. Tía Sofia and Tío Felipe had seen the TV news, too. They came with two bags of groceries, some towels, a mop, and a broom. They also offered Trino’s family a place to live.
Trino’s mom said a lot of “thank yous” but told Nick, Mala, and her family, “We’ll make a home as best we can at the trailer park and start again. I think we’re ready now.”
Trino ran hard.
His mother had left early with Gus and Beto. She had told Trino to get up for school, but he had just turned over for one more minute of sleep. When he opened his eyes again, a stab of panic told him he had slept too long. He ran to the kitchen to see the wall clock that Mr. Cummins had put up above the refrigerator. Eight-thirty. He shook Félix as he yelled,
“Wake up!”
His little brother looked at him through sleepy eyes. “Huh?”
“You’re on your own, man. I got to go.” He didn’t care if his brother stayed asleep all day as he threw on his clothes, wet down his hair, and left his shoes untied as he ran to school.
He had wanted to get to school early, talk to Hector, talk to Coach. Last night he had gone over what he would say to both of them, what he would say about José Antonio Navarro, and what he wanted to tell Lisana, Jimmy, and Amanda when he saw them at lunch. Everything was just a jumbled mess in his head now as he ran to school.
The school office was in a crazy state of confusion, and it just made Trino later. There weren’t enough substitutes for teachers who had gone to some meeting. Parents were there trying to get new books to replace those damaged by flooded houses. Students who were late were trying to get tardy slips. The secretary seemed to be yelling at everyone.
As the secretary finally handed Trino his tardy slip, the bell to end second period rang loudly in the office.
Trino ran again, this time to reach Coach Treviño’s class to talk to him. Only it was Hector that Trino saw first.
The big kid looked like he had just eaten something he didn’t like. His face was puckered together and his hands pressed on his stomach. He stood outside the door of Coach Treviño’s classroom.
“Trino! There you are!” Hector straightened up, but his face didn’t change. “I was afraid you’d skip out today.”
“I slept too long, that’s all. So, what’s up?” Trino got right to the point. “Are you going to skip out or stand with me when I talk to Coach?” He didn’t break eye contact with Hector. “I can give my half of the report best as I can from memory. What about you?”
Slowly, Hector’s face loosened up. He took a deep breath, and said, “I guess we have no choice, do we?” He gave Trino a little grin. “If only we had a hundred dollars to slip Coach, too.”
Trino raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, right.”
Both boys laughed a little then.
“Actually, we’re not completely lost.” Hector pulled some papers from his folder. “I found some of our old notes from the college library. I recopied what I could—it will help, I think, if we get stuck and forget what to say next.”
“That’s good, Hector. At least it’s something.” Trino glanced down to see some of his own handwriting on some of the old notes and Hector’s neater handwriting on other papers. He felt better to have the proof of their attempts to do the work in his own hands.
“Trino, about yesterday—” Hector’s voice shook a little. “I’m sorry I was such a jerk. I just wanted us to do good on this report—and I was just so mad.”
Trino nodded, then said, “Come on, partner. Let’s go tell Coach what happened.”
Together they walked into the classroom. Coach Treviño was talking to two girls at his desk. Only a handful of other students sat in desks in the classroom.
“Well, just do the best you can, ladies,” he was saying. “I told you there were no excuses. You either have the report for me, or it’s a pair of zeroes for both of you.”
At those words, Hector stopped. His face looked as if they were again stuck in the janitor’s closet with no way out. Trino paused, saw Hector’s face, and grabbed his arm. Trino pulled him along as he took a couple steps closer to Coach Treviño’s desk.
“Coach, we need to talk to you about our report,” Trino said, pushing the words from his mouth, even though his throat was dry and his jaw felt stiff.
The man turned to them and rolled his eyes. “Not you, too? All I’ve heard today are excuses. Why can’t just one of you come up and say, ‘Gosh, Coach, my partner and I are all ready for this report.’ Didn’t anyone do this assignment right?”
Trino frowned, trying to ignore the frustration and sarcasm in his teacher’s voice.
“Coach, Hector and I did the assignment, remember? We even went to the college library and got extra notes for our report.” He took a deep breath, then said, “I took the report home with me, but it got messed up. I know this is going to sound lame and stupid, but the truth is, a tree fell on top of my trailer. It busted a hole in the ceiling, and rain came in and ruined everything.”
“Coach, didn’t you see Trino’s trailer on TV?” Hector interrupted with his own way of explaining what had happened. “It was a big mess! But Trino—he went back inside to get his mom’s clothes and stuff, ‘cause they had nothing to wear when they went to the shelter. Trino was on TV and everything.”
Coach Treviño nodded and said, “So you have no report—”
“No, we have a report to give the class,” Trino said. “We just don’t have one to give you. Hector and I need to rewrite it, Coach.” He turned and looked at his partner.
“We’re going to be just like José Antonio Navarro,” Trino said. “He walked into a room full of gringos with only his words to help him. Hector and I have just our words, too.”
Both boys turned back to look at their teacher.
Hector stood up straight, pressing his shoulders back. “Trino’s family lost everything this weekend, Coach. I mean everything. I felt mad when I heard that our report got trashed at Trino’s house. But I’ve been thinking a lot since yesterday. Trino is here, ready to be my partner, and we’re going to do the best we can with this report. We worked too hard on it to quit now. Right, Trino?”
“Right, Hector.” At that moment, Trino realized no matter what, Hector was still going to be his friend. The others had proved to be his friends, too. That raw feeling of loneliness Trino had carried around for the past few months seemed to fade out like an old scar.
“Coach, I’m the one who screwed up,” Trino said. “Don’t give Hector a zero because of me.”
Coach Treviño looked at Trino, then at Hector. By now his face had relaxed, and his lips seemed to be holding back a smile. “I admit, you two surprised me. I saw Trino on TV, and I knew what had happened to his family. I didn’t even think you’d come to school, Trino. And Hector—I’m proud that you’re not laying blame on Trino and crying about it. You’re standing up together and still plan to do the report. Well, I don’t know what it is about José Antonio Navarro that’s got you two so fired up, but I can’t wait to hear whatever you’ve got to say.” He placed one hand on Trino’s shoulder and another hand on Hector’s. “You can have until next Monday to turn in a written report, okay?” He dropped his hands and then turned towards Trino. “Trino, let’s talk after school today. Maybe the athletes can do a fundraiser to help your family out.”
A surge of gratitude made Trino smile at the man. He had never had a teacher who made him feel like he mattered. He spoke his words slowly because they were so important. “Thanks, Coach—for giving us extra time—and for offering to help my family, too—thanks.”
Trino watched Will and Tim as they gave their report about Ben Milam. Everything they said sounded like it was copied straight from an encyclopedia. Vanessa and Yvette were next. Their report on Jane Long was more interesting because they kept repeating the line “and Jane Long waited,” as they talked about her waiting for her husband, waiting for the War of Texas Independence to end, and waiting for other events in her life. Soon everyone in the class started to say the four words with them.
“You can tell they’re cheerleaders,” Hector whispered to Trino after the two girls had finished. “Cheerleaders always say the same thing over and over.”
He smiled a little before they listened to the next report on Samuel McCullough, a free black man who fought in the Texas Revolution, too. The two boys who gave the report had very little to say, and Coach told them he was disappointed that they hadn’t worked very hard to find more information about the man.
When Coach called on Trino and Hector to do their report next, Trino was nervous, but he knew that he and Hector had more information than the last boys, and knew they wouldn’t be reading from papers like the first boys. It helped that he wasn’t the only one to stand up in front of everyone and talk. Hector was usually a big talker, and Trino was depending on him to get the report going.
Trino followed Hector up to the front of the class. When they took their place behind Coach’s wooden podium, Trino could feel the blood inside him rushing down his legs, making them tremble. Someone beat a drum in his ears, his stomach felt like he had just got off a dizzy ride, and his throat felt like it was going to close up.
He looked out at the twenty students staring at them, at Coach Treviño sitting in the back in his teacher’s chair with an open notebook across his lap. What did they want from him? What did he have to offer?
“Trino and I are here to tell you about José Antonio Navarro,” Hector said in a voice that was calm and confident. “He was one of only two tejanos who signed the Texas Declaration of Independence. And we think that’s a very cool thing.”
Trino looked at his friend Hector, and felt a slight smile pull at his mouth. Time will speak for everything. Today he really understood what Navarro had meant.