Chapter Seven

Héctor thought that changing things up a bit would steer him clear of his tormentors. On Thursday, he asked his papi to drop him off five minutes before the first bell; Friday morning, he lied and said he needed to do some reading and wanted to be dropped off an hour before class to go to the library.

And both times, Mike and the Minions found him.

Héctor knew that running away didn’t make anything better. He still did it. He ran because it was easier.

Both times, he headed straight for the janitor’s closet at the end of the hallway. He always made it there before Mike and the Minions did, it always seemed to lock behind him, and no matter what they did, those boys couldn’t get inside.

So, for the few minutes he was there on Thursday, or the hour he was there on Friday, Héctor was safe.

Thursday, he sat at the Table of Misfits without saying anything, and he spent the whole lunch hoping no one would bring up the incident in the hallway. No one did, and he was thankful for that. On Friday, however, he wasn’t so lucky. The others were already at the table when he put his lunch tray down, and Jackson looked up at him. “You doing okay?” he asked.

Héctor shrugged. “Yeah,” he said, and he sat alongside Jackson. “Just mostly catching up in all my classes.”

“That’s good,” said Jackson. There was an awkward pause. “But I meant after the other day.”

Everyone at the table—even Pat, all the way down at the other end—was staring at Héctor. His heart pounded. He hated the looks on their faces. They all seemed sorry for him.

“I’m good,” he said. “Keeping to myself.”

For the moment, it satisfied them, and to Héctor’s relief, the conversation continued.

When Friday afternoon arrived, Héctor dreaded all the homework he’d accumulated. But he needed something for himself, so as he climbed into his papi’s car, he launched immediately into his plan for Saturday.

“Okay, so I’m thinking chilaquiles tomorrow morning. Only if you’re up for making them.”

“And hello to you, too, Héctor,” Papi said. “My day was good, how was yours?”

Héctor stuck his tongue out. “Hi, Papi,” he said.

“I take it you’re excited for the weekend?”

“I wanna do something,” he said. “We should get out and explore the neighborhood tomorrow morning before I have to do homework.”

“Really?” Papi turned the truck onto the main street. “Sounds like a good idea. But why?”

He did not tell Papi that he was excited to forget most of his week. Rather, he blurted out, “Because I don’t know Orangevale!”

Which was the truth. All he’d really seen was a couple supermarkets and his school. There had to be more to this city, some place that would make him feel like he was home. Like, where were the good corner markets? Or the places to get boba at?

“Pues, I can ask Abuela where we should go,” Papi said.

“We could, but . . . I kinda wanna find these places myself, you know?”

Papi nodded. “That makes sense.”

“I just . . . I have to find a way to make this place mine, I guess.”

Papi ruffled Héctor’s hair. “Well, I’m free tomorrow. Your mami is on calls all day with the teachers’ union, so it’ll just be me and you. ¿Está bien?”

“Of course it’s fine!” said Héctor.

And he was going to make it so.

Full of his papi’s excellent chilaquiles, Héctor fastened the buckle on his shoulder bag. “Okay, we got everything?”

Papi was carrying a tote bag, and he stood near the front door. “I think so. Run it past me, mijo.”

“Water?”

Papi held up his water flask. “Check.”

“Sunscreen.”

He tapped the tote bag. “In here.”

“Cell phone?”

His papi ran his hands over his pockets. “Oh. Good lookin’ out, mijo.”

As he went off to go find it, Mami sidled up to him. “Sorry I can’t come with you today,” she said. “My to-do list only grows with each passing day.”

“It’s okay,” he said, smiling. “Once things calm down, we can have our own day trip. Like a spa day.”

She laughed at that. “Do you even like spas, Héctor?”

“I don’t know! I might. Guess we’ll just have to find out.”

His papi returned, holding his cell phone high. “¿Listos?” he asked.

“Whenever you are,” Héctor shot back. He bounded out the front door as his parents kissed goodbye, and he ran down to the end of the driveway.

There were more one-story houses like their own in either direction on their street. None of them were in the bright, random colors he was used to, but they weren’t exactly ugly. Lots of trees lined the street, and he did like that; he wondered what it was going to look like later in the fall. But there was so much missing: all the brightly lit storefronts. The smell of fresh tortillas from the women on the corner of 23rd and Valencia. Carson, the homeless man Héctor said hello to every day on his walk to school.

His papi caught up and grabbed Héctor’s hand. “All right, mijo,” he said. “You’re navigating. Where to first?”

Héctor took a deep breath. He’d done research after dinner last night and had assembled a list of ten places to visit that were all in walking distance. Even though he was full from breakfast, he couldn’t resist the notion of having boba on such a hot day.

“This way,” he said, and he pulled Papi onto the sidewalk and toward their destination.

Four hours later, Mami rolled up in her blue sedan. They weren’t exactly far from home, and Héctor wasn’t even all that tired. But as he limped over to the car, he was glad he wouldn’t have to try to tough it out.

“Ay, mijo, ¿que pasó?” Mami said as he laid himself across the back seat, panting.

“I was attacked,” said Héctor. “I will never recover.”

“Attacked?!” Her voice was alarmed. “By who?”

“The sidewalk,” said Papi, sitting in the front passenger seat. “The sidewalk attacked him.”

“It was terrible,” Héctor continued, sitting up and putting on his seat belt. “It’s like it opened up and ate half my leg.”

“What nuestro hijo is trying to say is that . . . well, he tripped and scraped his knee.”

“Who lets the sidewalks look like that? And there were so many places where there wasn’t a sidewalk at all.”

“I’m sorry, mijo,” said Mami as she pulled into traffic. “Is it bad? We’ll bandage it when we get you home.”

“I’ll be okay,” he said, and then fell silent. It was barely two, and his day felt destroyed. Nothing had gone like he wanted it to. The walk down to the boba shop wasn’t too bad, but when they got there, they found out that it had closed down a couple months ago. He hadn’t let this discourage him; there were nine more places on his list.

Getting to them was a hassle, though. One of the routes his phone told him to take didn’t have a crosswalk, and Héctor was too scared to cross the busy street—everyone drove so fast here. So they didn’t end up checking out the bookstore or the record shop. At the antiques store, Héctor was hoping to find some cool thrifted pieces to use in an outfit, but almost everything there was camping or military gear. There wasn’t anything kid-sized except for a Dora the Explorer T-shirt with some very suspicious stains.

His fish tacos at the place that claimed to make “authentic” Mexican food? Oh, they were not fish tacos. More like “soggy fish-like substance over a soggy tortilla-like substance.” And there were raw carrots in them! Who put raw carrots in a taco?

His stomach was hurting by the time they made their way to a local park that was supposed to have some cool installation art. They didn’t make it to their destination due to a gnarly tree root that had warped the sidewalk, causing him to fall.

Orangevale had not treated him all that kindly.

“We’ll drive to places next time, mijo,” said Papi. “Just so we don’t waste time.”

“Sure,” he said, but he wasn’t into it. He loved being able to walk everywhere, like he used to do . . .

Back home? Could he even say that anymore? This was his home now, wasn’t it?

He shook the feeling away. “Mami, can we write the mayor today?” he said. “I’d like to tell him he’s got a feral sidewalk issue on his hands.”

She chuckled. “Of course we can.”

“We can’t just let these concrete monsters keep claiming lives.”

“Not at all.”

“I’m starting a petition, too.”

Now Papi was laughing. “We support you.”

They rode the rest of the way back in silence. As Héctor hobbled his way into his sky-blue house, he vowed to find some other way to make Orangevale his home.