Ernesto and Abel looked at each other as Penelope continued to talk. “Mrs. Serrano marched Lacey right over to the Gomez house, where Mrs. Serrano forced Lacey to give him back the necklace. Dumberto’s mother was just shocked that her son had given such an expensive gift to a fourteenyear-old. She kept saying to Dumberto, ‘Where did you get the money? Tell me! Did you steal the money?’”
Penelope giggled and said, “Old Lacey’s life is just totally ruined now, and it couldn’t happen to a better victim. She deserves it so much. She was riding high, and now she’s in the pits.”
Then the expression on Penelope’s face changed to one of pure happiness. “And something else awesome happened too. It’s like the good fairy of happiness is smiling on me and sticking pins in Lacey. I’ve got a boyfriend. At last, I’ve got a boyfriend!”
Abel clutched his head. “Oh, give me a break!” he groaned.
“Abel, he’s absolutely wonderful,” Penelope cried. “His name is Gil Patone, and he’s like a genius, and he’s so nice and polite. You know what’s best of all? He told me I was the healthiest-looking girl in the whole freshman class and that I just radiate freshness, and I wasn’t all bony and sick-looking like some of the girls.”
“Please tell me he’s a freshman,” Abel said, still clutching his head.
“He is,” Penelope said. “He’s just like one month older than me, and he’s nice and tall, not short like most of the freshmen boys. He’s sorta like you, Ernie, nice and friendly and smart, and he really likes me! He heard me say the other day that I like avocados, and he brought an avocado for lunch and shared it with me. He brought three avocados, in fact, and he shared with Angel and Bobby and Richie, our whole little gang. He likes us all. Is that cool or what? I mean, how many boys would be so thoughtful to do that? He’s like you, Ernie. You’d do something like that.”
“That’s great, Penny,” Ernesto said. “I’m happy for you.”
“Oh, it’s just about the happiest day in my whole life,” Penelope said, jumping into her brother’s car. “It’s like I’ve got an amazing boyfriend, and my absolute worst enemy in the whole world, Lacey Serrano, is in the pits where she belongs. Yay.”
Abel turned to Ernesto. “Stop grinning, homie. In a couple years, Kat is gonna be like this, and it’ll be even worse for you ’cause Juanita is coming right up behind her. It’ll be a double dose of trouble.”
At the dinner table that night, Ernesto mentioned Rick Alanzar missing his English class with Ms. Lauer. Rick was not a great student, but it was his favorite class. One day, he told Ms. Lauer he wanted to write fiction like F. Scott Fitzgerald. “Rick’s only friend at school is Humberto Gomez,” Ernesto said.
“I went to school with two guys named Gomez,” Luis Sandoval said. “The older one was Tony and the younger one was Rob. They weren’t in my group of friends, but they were both terrific baseball players, Rob especially. One time, we were playing Grant, and he got three home runs. He talked about trying out for the majors. I don’t know what ever happened.”
“Was he a nice guy, Dad?” Ernesto asked his father.
A strange look came over Luis Sandoval’s face. He just shrugged his shoulders. He didn’t like to judge people. But he said, “I think Tony is Humberto’s father. I’ve seen him at some of the parent-teacher functions. I asked him about Rob, and he said his brother had moved north.”
The next day at Chavez High, Ernesto noticed that the close friendship between Clay Aguirre and Rod Garcia at Chavez High was broken. After the bitter argument they had in the parking lot at the Our Lady of Guadalupe fiesta, the two boys ignored each other on campus. Ernesto saw them passing within three feet of one another and not saying a word.
At lunch, Naomi told Ernesto and their other friends, “Mira Nuñez said Clay is really angry at Rod over what happened to Griff Slocum. The four guys—Clay, Rod, Rick, and Humberto—had been drinking at Humberto’s birthday party, and Clay got scared, so Rod pulled over. Clay said they needed to sober up. He fell asleep in Rod’s Toyota, and he thought the other three had gone to get coffee like they said they were going to, but they started taunting Griff instead. Clay thinks all of it reflects badly on him, and he almost hates Rod. Mira said Clay is suspicious that maybe Rod and the others know something about who killed Griff, and that they’re afraid to talk.”
“I see Clay’s point,” Ernesto said. “He got splashed with some of the dirt ’cause he was there with them, not harassing Griff, but on the scene.”
“And then for Rod to have dropped his student ID card there,” Naomi said. “Mira said Clay just couldn’t believe such stupidity. That’s what connected the boys to the whole thing. Mira says Clay is so bitter he might never speak to Rod again. Mira is happy about that. She thinks Rod is a bad influence on Clay.”
Ernesto lay back on the grass and watched the clouds floating by. When he was a small boy, he and his grandfather, his father’s father, would climb a small hill near Montebello and both of them would lie on the grass like this and try to find shapes in the clouds.
Ernesto loved his grandfather. He was such a kind and gentle man. They spent many hours together, hiking, playing ball, just talking. Ernesto was a young boy when his grandfather died of a heart attack. It was the first time Ernesto had experienced deep grief. For days and even weeks, he didn’t know how to cope. The most vivid memory of his grandfather’s death was seeing his own father, Luis Sandoval, bent over and sobbing like a child. Up until that moment, Ernesto always saw his father as strong and unflinching in the face of anything. But when Ernesto saw his father weeping so relentlessly, it was terrifying, but also consoling in another, deeper way. It was as if Ernesto had received permission to show his own grief and to not lock it in himself. After Ernesto and his father wept together, they both began to heal.
“What are you thinking about, Ernie?” Naomi asked. She reached over and ran her fingers through Ernesto’s dark hair.
“My abuelo, my dad’s father. He died when I was a young kid. He was a great guy,” Ernesto said.
“I never knew my dad’s parents,” Naomi said. “They were very old when I was born. My father tells me his dad was pretty tough. I believe it too. I think Dad got a lot of his ways.”
“I don’t know if I’d ever want kids,” Abel said. “It’s a big hassle. I think I’d make a lousy father too. Penelope drives me crazy, and she’s only my sister.”
Naomi smiled. “She drives you crazy because you love her, Abel. See, those are the stirrings of a good father. You care about your little sister. A lot of boys don’t care about their siblings at all,” Naomi said. “How’s Bianca doing?” Abel had been dating Bianca but she became dangerously thin and was diagnosed with anorexia. She had to be hospitalized.
“She’s doing much better. She’s gained eight pounds. Now she weighs ninety-six pounds. That doesn’t sound like much, but it’s a big improvement. She’s eating regular food now, not just lettuce. She’ll be back to Chavez in about a week. I’ve been seeing her in rehab. Bianca was happy to see me ’cause her mom is so busy she hardly comes around.”
“See, Abel? You are a good, caring guy,” Naomi said. “Perfect daddy material.”
When Rick Alanzar didn’t show up for school the second day, Ms. Sanchez called the Alanzar home. Rick’s mother said he had the flu, but the principal was skeptical. Other students had seen him at a deli buying a lot of lottery tickets. Somebody said he spent a hundred dollars on tickets for the big weekend drawing.
Ms. Sanchez called Ernesto into her office at the end of the day. “Ernie, I know you have those great senior-to-senior programs going to help seniors in trouble, but we have a junior who seems to be slipping off track, and I wonder if you and the junior class president could pay a visit to his home. You know Angie Robledo, don’t you?”
“Yeah, I work with her on junior-senior projects,” Ernesto said. “She’s cool.”
“Well, the junior I’m worried about is Rick Alanzar. He’s been a good student, keeping up his GPA. His attendance record has been perfect. Now suddenly, he doesn’t come to school anymore. The Alanzars live over on Polk Street, and I thought you and Angie could visit them,” Ms. Sanchez said.
Ernesto was not too crazy about getting involved with Rick Alanzar after Rod Garcia’s threats and what happened on the freeway the other night. He’d just about decided to stop involving himself in the situation. It seemed too dangerous. Still, he hated to turn Ms. Sanchez down, but maybe it wouldn’t appear threatening to Rick if he and the junior class president went together.
“Okay, Ms. Sanchez, I’ll see what I can do. My friend Abel could come with us. Abel has a good effect on those situations,” Ernesto said.
“Fine,” Ms. Sanchez said. “Thank you, Ernie.”
Ernesto drove his Volvo over to the Alanzar house with Angie and Abel. Most of the students at Chavez High knew about Rick and the other boys harassing Griff Slocum and getting in trouble. Due to the ages of the boys, their names weren’t in the paper, but word got around.
“I don’t know Rick too well,” Angie said. “He’s kind of a loner.”
“Yeah,” Ernesto said.
The Alanzar house on Polk Street was in a poorer end of town. The houses were not nearly as well kept up as the houses on the bird streets. The Alanzar house was a frame building with peeling paint, and the only greenery came from the scrawny Washington palms out front.
The three teenagers walked to the door, and a harried-looking woman answered. She self-consciously brushed back her hair with her hand. It was in disarray around her face.
Ernesto was grateful for Angie Robledo taking the initiative. “Hi, I’m the junior class president at Chavez High, Angie Robledo, and these are two students from the school, Ernesto and Abel. We’re worried about Rick ’cause he’s been missing school.”
“He’s not feeling well,” Mrs. Alanzar said.
“Well,” Angie said, “I’ve brought over a folder with the assignments he’s been missing, so he can keep up. It’s so easy to fall behind.” She handed the folder to the woman.
“Is your husband at home?” Ernesto asked.
“No, he’s a cross-country trucker. He won’t be back for a week. Uh, would you like to come in? It was very nice of you to bring the makeup work,” the woman said.
They entered a cramped and disorderly living room and sat down on folding chairs. Mrs. Alanzar brought three cans of cola for the students. “I hope you kids like soda,” she said nervously. “Rick does. He just inhales it!”
“Has your son been to a doctor, Mrs. Alanzar?” Abel asked. “Maybe he needs antibiotics or something.”
“Uh, no, it’s not that. I mean, we thought he had a touch of flu, but …” She was wringing her hands. “It’s more … emotional. Uh … you kids probably know about the bad thing that happened. I was so ashamed. That is so unlike Rick. He would never have done such a thing if he hadn’t gone to that boy’s birthday party and started drinking.”
“Yeah,” Abel said, “a lot of the kids at Chavez drink, and it causes a lot of problems.”
Ernesto was again grateful for Abel being there. He was able to make Rick’s action seem more normal, just the result of liquor. It put the woman at ease that these students did not see her son as a monster who had tormented a homeless man who subsequently died mysteriously.
“It was the Gomez boy’s idea to do that to Mr. Slocum. Rick is a loner. He doesn’t have many friends. Whatever Humberto suggests, he goes along … but, of course, the boys had nothing to do with what happened to the man later. But ever since then, Rick has not been the same. I think he feels guilty about it. He didn’t hurt the man. None of the boys hurt the man, and yet Rick is just so troubled by everything that happened. He’s a good boy, and usually I can get through to him, but now …” Mrs. Alanzar shook her head.
“Mrs. Alanzar,” Ernesto said, “we have counselors at Chavez. Don’t you think it would be good if Rick talked to one of them? It might help with the stuff that’s bothering him.”
“We’re not rich people,” Mrs. Alanzar said. “We have no money for doctors.”
“No, no,” Ernesto said. “The counseling is free. Rick could just make an appointment, and they’d help him through this.” It crossed Ernesto’s mind that kids had seen Rick spending a hundred dollars on lottery tickets in the last few days. But he didn’t bring that up. There was no point.
“Well, when Rick gets home, I’ll tell him about it,” Mrs. Alanzar said. “Thanks so much for your concern and for bringing his makeup work.”
Ernesto thought then that mentioning that his friends at Cesar Chavez High School had survived many difficulties and were now happy, successful students might encourage Mrs. Alanzar.
“There’ve been a lot of guys at Chavez who were in trouble with the law, Mrs. Alanzar, and now they’re doing great. A couple dudes were doing graffiti all over town, and they dropped out of school in their junior year. They turned their lives around with a little help, and they’re over the moon now. So Rick made a mistake that night, but it’s not the end of the world,” Ernesto said.
“Yeah,” Angie Robledo said. “The junior year is kind of tough for a lot of kids. I have a friend who was doing great as a freshman and sophomore, then she met some friends who liked to party, and she got in a bad auto accident. She was driving drunk. Luckily, nobody was killed, but the incident almost knocked her out of the game, but now she’s fine.”
A distressed look came to Mrs. Alanzar’s face. “I think that one of Rick’s problems is his friendship with the Gomez boy. He’s not a good influence on Rick. I don’t like the Gomez family, to tell you the truth. Humberto has a cousin, Rod Garcia, and he’s not a nice kid at all. I just hope Rick can find better friends when this is all over.”
“Well,” Ernesto said, getting up, “thanks for talking to us, Mrs. Alanzar, and be sure to tell Rick the counselors are great if he wants to talk to one. They’re more than happy to help. And Ms. Lauer, Rick’s English teacher, she sends her best wishes. She misses Rick in class. He told her he wanted to be a writer someday, and she wants to encourage him.”
Mrs. Alanzar’s expression softened a bit. “Yes, Rick talks about Ms. Lauer all the time. He really enjoys that class. I think she’s been his favorite teacher,” she said. “Thanks so much for coming by. It’s really nice that you guys care about each student like this. I’m sure it will mean a lot to Rick that you took the time and trouble to bring the makeup work and express your concern.”
“Tell Rick to come back to school as quick as he can,” Angie said. “We’re going to start reading F. Scott Fitzgerald’s The Great Gatsby. He likes Fitzgerald so that’s gonna be fun.”
“Thank you so much,” the woman said. Her voice was a little shaky. She seemed like a nice person, and Ernesto felt sorry for her. Clearly there were problems, but it was not their business to go any deeper. They had done what Ms. Sanchez asked, and now the three of them went to the door and left.
Angie Robledo took a deep breath as they walked to the car. “Did you guys get the same vibes I got? You can just feel the tension in that house. It hangs like a heavy wet curtain.”
“She seems like a nice lady,” Abel said. “Probably a good mom. I’m thinking that something’s wrong, though, and she knows something’s wrong, but she’s not sure what. Rick maybe knows more about what happened to Griff Slocum than he’s saying, and that’s what’s making him sick. He’s trapped in a box of silence, and he doesn’t know where the key is.”
“Yeah,” Ernesto said. “I’m getting that too. Maybe Humberto or Rick or even Rod Garcia noticed how Griff was grasping that leather pouch on the chain around his neck. He wouldn’t let go of it, so they knew there had to be something in there. And there was. The police said he had something of value that was taken. So one of them went back later and tried to get the thing, whatever it was, and Griff fought for it. He fought to the death for it.” Ernesto was strident.
“And the other two guys sort of know what went down, and the guy who got the thing … he’s paying them off to keep quiet. That’s why Humberto and Rick all of a sudden have money. I can’t figure who might have done it. If Rick’s feeling guilty, then it must not be him. If it was Rod or Humberto, Rick doesn’t want to tell on them.”
Angie Robledo’s eyes were wide with shock. “Are you guys saying that you think one of those three murdered somebody?” she asked.
Ernesto shrugged. “Or knows who did,” he said.
“What’s the way out of a thing like that?” Abel asked, a bewildered look on his face.
“The truth,” Ernesto said. “The truth, man. Rick Alanzar is seventeen years old. He can’t keep this bottled inside himself for the rest of his life. If Gomez or Garcia did it, they gotta pay for it.”
“What if Rick did it?” Abel asked.
“Then he’s got to pay, but I don’t think he did,” Ernesto said. “Gomez is a bully. He’s violent. He’s already got a little fourteen-year-old girlfriend he’s slapping around.”
“You know, man,” Abel said, “when a dude is juiced on booze or drugs, he’s not the same person. Maybe Rick is a quiet little loner when he’s sober, but maybe the liquor brought out a whole different person. The family is poor. Maybe the guy looks around the broken-down house and figures he’s going nowhere, just like his father, you know? And suddenly he sees the homeless guy clutching at the leather pouch, and he’s so drunk he doesn’t care about anything but getting whatever is in there. What the poor bum is willing to die for.”
“So what are you guys going to do?” Angie asked.
Ernesto remembered that night on the freeway. He remembered the terror on Naomi’s face. His jaw tightened. “Nothing,” he said. “There’s nothing I can do.”