Casa Azul (15 page)

Without thinking, she effortlessly scaled the building. She tried to calm Victor, but all she could do was screech and pat him.

“My fingers hurt,” he told her. It was clear he would not be able to hold on much longer.

Alarmed, Fulang tried to coach the boy in how to climb back down by miming each step, but Victor was too frightened to move.

Quickly Fulang descended to the alley in search of something or someone to help. The alley was now empty. Oswaldo had disappeared as the sounds of sirens came closer and closer. The police would be there any minute. Unfortunately, Fulang didn’t think Victor could hold on for even that one minute. She searched around the alley for something, anything to save this boy. She ran to one end
of the alley. Nothing. She ran to the other end. Still nothing. Frantically, she climbed onto an empty packing crate, thinking that it might break Victor’s fall. Then she saw the answer.

A rope!

The crate had a rope loosely tied around it. Fulang immediately untangled it and scaled the wall once more with the rope between her teeth. In one fluid movement she tied the rope around Victor’s waist.

Her great idea began to sink, however, when she realized she wouldn’t be able to hold Victor with the rope. Even though he was only eight years old, he was still six times her weight.

There must a solution
, Fulang thought. She glanced up and noticed that there were shutters on the window above them. The shutter on the right had a big iron latch that was used to lock this shutter to the one on the left. If she tied the rope to it, perhaps it would hold. In one swift leap the monkey flew up to the shutter and tied a nice tight knot around the big iron latch.

“I can’t hold on any longer!” cried Victor. His fingers slipped from the stone crevice. He fell a couple of feet, but then the rope drew taut and stopped his fall. Victor held on to the rope and swung silently below the window, too frightened to scream.

“There he is!” came a shout. Frida led Diego, Maria, and Caimito down the alley.

Fulang scurried down the wall to greet Frida who looked exhausted.

The five of them stood helplessly below the boy dangling twenty feet up in the air.

“Don’t worry, Victor. We’ll get you,” called Maria.

“I’m scared,” cried Victor.

Suddenly, there was a crack. The iron bracket was beginning to pull away from the shutter.

“Do something!” screamed Maria. “He’s going to fall!”

Leaning on her cane, Frida hobbled down the alley looking for anything that might help, but Fulang had already found the only thing of use.

Maria started to climb up the stone wall, but she quickly fell back. Her fingers and toes were too big to fit into the crevices like Victor’s.

CRAAAAAACK!

The iron bracket broke away a little more.

“Stand back,” commanded Diego. He waved his arms for everyone to step away from the wall.

CRAAAAAACK!

The bracket broke free. Victor dropped like a rock, straight down. His arms flailed out. He kicked his legs spasmodically in an attempt to somehow stop himself. But he could not.

Victor fell helplessly toward the ground.

“Victor!” Maria screamed.

Diego stepped up to the wall below Victor and caught the boy in his massive arms. He staggered under the impact but kept his balance. The bracket just passed his head and slammed into the ground. Then he raised Victor for everyone to see. “He’s safe!”

Maria ran over to the two as Diego set Victor down.

“Don’t scare me like that,” she told her brother as she hugged him tightly. “I don’t think I could live if I lost you.” They both cried.

“Hold it right there!” shouted a policeman, interrupting the reunion. “Everyone up against the wall!” He had out his gun.

A moment later five other policemen were in the alley with their guns pointed at the group.

“We’ve caught them red-handed!” shouted the policeman to the other officers.

Diego held out his arms with his hands open. “Please, we’re not thieves.”

“Don’t argue with me!” shouted the first policeman. “Up against the wall!”

They all put their hands against the wall.

Another policeman did a double take as he got closer. “Diego? Diego Rivera?” He rushed down the alley and grabbed the first policeman’s arm. “Alejandro, this is Diego Rivera.”

The first policeman suddenly realized his mistake. “Oh, Diego, I am so sorry.”

“
Esta bien, no te preocupes
. It is nothing,” said Diego, stepping away from the wall. “And this is Frida.” He waved his hand toward his former wife.

Frida stepped forward. “I am so grateful that you have arrived.”

“What is going on here?” a sergeant barked when he entered the alley.

“An attempt to rob the diamond exchange was thwarted by these brave children,” explained Diego, lying just a little. He pointed to Maria and Victor, standing speechless behind him. “They are heroes of Mexico!”

The policemen holstered their weapons.

Diego stepped out of the way. “These two small friends of ours, Victor and Maria … uh …”

“Ortiz,” added Maria.

“Yes, well, Victor and Maria Ortiz alerted Frida and myself to this plan to break into the Federica Diamond Exchange,” explained Diego.

“Right up there!” pointed Victor, gaining courage from Diego. “That third-floor window.”

The policemen looked up.

“That’s pretty high up,” said one officer skeptically.

“That’s why the thieves wanted me to climb up,” answered Victor, rather enjoying being the center of attention.

“The boy’s sister called us,” interjected Diego. “And Frida and I came right away, but young Victor here had already scared away the thieves.”

“Not too far away!” The noise from a scuffle echoed down the alleyway as a policeman dragged Oswaldo back to the scene of the attempted crime. “I found this little rodent running away, about a block from here,” explained the officer.

“I didn’t do anything,” cried Oswaldo. “I was going home to my sick mother.”

The policeman threw Oswaldo to the ground. “Don’t lie to me, you sewer rat. I’ve seen you before. You’re hooked up with that thief they call Oscar.”

“No!” shrieked Oswaldo.

“You’re going to the work farm,” said the policeman. He started to drag the boy away.

“Wait!” shouted Oswaldo. He broke free of the police officer and ran to Maria. He dug into his pocket and pulled out the brooch.

“My brooch!”

“I didn’t give it to Oscar. I was going to because he wanted me to steal it from you, but I didn’t.” He handed the brooch to Maria. “I would never hurt you.”

Maria looked down at the brooch. Then impulsively she kissed Oswaldo. She turned to Diego and Frida. “We can’t let them take him. He only needs someone to help him be good.”

Frida took Maria’s hand. “There’s not much we can do.”

“Please! He didn’t mean it. He was just scared of that awful man.”

“Doesn’t matter,” replied the sergeant. “He’s a thief, and we’ve been looking for him for a while.”

“But he wants to be good,” pressed Maria. “Just give him a chance.”

The sergeant looked at the officer who held Oswaldo. “Okay,” he said, speaking to Oswaldo. “Tell us where to find Oscar, and we’ll get you in the orphanage instead of the work farm.”

Oswaldo nodded. Quietly he said, “He’s in Cutter’s Alley. The old door that’s off its hinges leads to a cave underground. He’s in there.”

A New Happiness

I
n the middle of the night, Maria finally knew what the outcome to the wrestling championship of the world was to be. She couldn’t wait to tell Victor. It was early, and his eyes were half shut, but soon they widened.

“As I was telling you before, El Corazón had transformed himself into a stone statue of the Aztec god of life, Quetzalcoatl,” she said, “while El Diablo had become a stone statue of Huitzilopochtli, the Aztec god of war. Now, even though they were made of stone, they were still gods and able to move. In fact, the stone gave them even greater strength. While the crowd went wild, the two gods squared off in the ring and circled each other. With each move that one would perform, the other would do an equally effective counter-move. This meant that neither of these two gods would ever get the upper hand over the other. Instead, they wound up in eternal combat with each other, the wrestling match going on and on forever. The crowds would come and go, watching some of the match for a while and then moving on.”

“There’s no winner?” asked Victor, disappointed.

“No winner,” explained Maria. “Instead, the two gods must battle each other through eternity, always at a standstill. If one ever wins, the balance between good and evil in the world would end and so would the world.”

“But what if good wins, isn’t that better?” pressed Victor.

“It seems as if it would make sense that if good triumphs, the world would be a better place,” said Maria. “But you must remember. Without evil there is no good. The two must balance each other. It is the way of the world. So neither can win.” Maria’s thoughts turned to Oswaldo.

“I don’t think I understand this,” replied Victor.

“You will,” Maria said.

Knock! Knock!

“Are you two awake?” called Frida.

“Please, come in,” said Maria.

“I have news!” She held out the telegraph. “Let’s open it together.”

Maria tore open the envelope and the three of them read it.

A New Portrait

T
hat night, long after everyone had gone to bed after spending the day preparing for Ana Ortiz’s arrival, Frida padded through the house and entered her studio.

Fulang, who slept lightly, awoke when Frida opened the door. Silently, she crept into the studio to watch over Frida as she worked.

Frida gazed for a few minutes at her
Self-Portrait with Thorn Necklace and Hummingbird
.

A sick feeling overcame Fulang at the sight of this painting. She wanted to leave, but her loyalty to Frida was too strong.

Frida sat, looking at her image. Once Frida picked up her brush, Fulang settled in a corner of the studio where she could not see the painting. She sat and watched Frida work until eventually she fell asleep.

Frida painted through the night, filling in the dark background and defining the foreground with herself, Caimito, and Chica. She worked feverishly, painting an image in and painting it out and repainting it. Thick layers of paint built up on the canvas, making it as dense as the tropical forest in the background. Frida’s eyebrows
became one long single brow that cut across her forehead, almost like a crown. Caimito’s and Chica’s faces became more distinct and full of expression. The blood on Frida’s neck grew a darker crimson. Dawn broke through the gauze curtains of the room. In the morning light Frida looked at the painting and decided it was done.

“Wake up, monkey,” she called to Fulang.

Fulang yawned and stretched. She had forgotten that she had fallen asleep in Frida’s studio and so for a moment was disoriented. Groggily she came over to where Frida was painting. She had forgotten that Frida was working on the painting that gave her such sorrow. She was simply pleased that Frida seemed to have moved on from the depression of the last few days.

That changed, however, when she glanced up at the canvas on the easel. Fulang thought she was going to faint.

“You like?” asked Frida playfully.

“Y—y—yes!” stammered Fulang.

On the easel was the portrait of Frida, Caimito, and Chica; but it had changed dramatically. On Frida’s right shoulder, Caimito no longer looked menacing. In fact, he seemed more playful than dangerous to Fulang. His hand wasn’t pulling at the thorn necklace. Though a thorn still broke the skin on Frida’s neck, it was unclear whether Caimito had put it there or was trying to alleviate the pain by pulling it. On Frida’s left shoulder, Chica had dropped the hummingbird. Though the bird was still dead, it merely hung from the thorn necklace, while Chica looked down at it without expression.