How Tía Lola Saved the Summer (5 page)

Cari skips into the room, delighted to be invited. She plops herself down on the bed, lays her sword beside her, then looks all around. “The treasure’s all gone.”

Miguel doesn’t know if he should tell her it was all pretend. Maybe it’d be like telling a little kid there is no Santa Claus. “After we took our share, the pirates came for the rest.”

Cari’s eyes widen. She reaches for her sword, then decides maybe she doesn’t need it. Still, she keeps her hand on it. “The pirates came back to the attic?”

Miguel nods. He’s good at solving clues, not thinking up stories and stuff. That’s why he was so impressed by Tía Lola’s clues last night, especially since they were in rhymes and in English. But Tía Lola confessed that
el
Rudy had helped her write them.

“Aren’t you scared to sleep up here?” Cari asks in an awed voice. “What if the pirates get angry that we took their candy and try to hurt you?”

Miguel shrugs. “They don’t bother me.”

“That’s because you can work magic like Tía Lola, right?” Cari nods, answering her own question. “Essie told me and Victoria. So when the pirates come, you can just turn them into bully frogs like the ones last night.”

Miguel can’t help smiling. “Bullfrogs,” he corrects her. No wonder Cari was so scared, if she thought the frogs were bullies. “They live down in the pond. And when they make that bull sound, that’s just them singing lullabies to their wives and baby tadpoles.” He says this last part to reassure her, so she won’t be scared of the loud croaking at night. Maybe Miguel’s not so bad at making up stuff after all.

“They have wives and babies?” Cari is incredulous. “And they aren’t bullies?”

Miguel shakes his head. “They’re more scared of you than you are of them.”

“They are?”

“Yep! Come on, I’ll prove it.” Why not? He doesn’t have anything better to do than sit around moping about the weather. And it might be fun to splash around at the edge of the vernal pond that never totally dried up this rainy spring. “Are you coming?” he asks, because Cari is still sitting on the bed, cross-legged, her two little hands clutched together as if she were praying.

“But maybe the bullfrogs will jump out and hurt us?”

“They won’t hurt you, you’ll see.” Miguel can tell that Cari is teetering on the edge of fear. But he ignores her hesitation, as if there’s no question that Cari is going to follow him into the beautiful, if wet, Vermont countryside. It isn’t Disney World, but it has its very own magic.

Miguel heads for the door, Valentino at his heels, eager
for any outing. Behind him, the bedsprings squeak, and next thing he knows, Cari is scurrying to join him. He can’t decide if she is being brave by coming or is too scared to stay by herself. As they enter the hallway, she calls out, “Wait!” and races back into the room, grabs her sword where she left it on the bed, and returns to Miguel, breathless with terror and triumph.

“I’m in shock,” Victoria says that night as she pulls her marshmallow from the fire. They are sitting in front of the fireplace campfire, each one with a roasting stick. Cari has just related how she and Miguel caught the half dozen tadpoles that are now swirling around in the Mason jar beside her on the coffee table.

At the table in the dining area, Mami and Víctor are finishing up a game of Scrabble. Tía Lola has been tending the fire, adding a log from time to time.

“You did all this brave stuff without us?” Victoria shakes her head in disbelief. “You are really something, Cari baby—”

“I’m not a baby!” Cari protests.

“I mean ‘baby’ as in hot babe, cool chick,” Victoria says, exchanging a high five with her little sister. “And you are, Cari girl! You went up to the attic all by yourself to visit Miguel. You went out in a rainstorm, braving the elements, lightning and thunder—”

“There wasn’t any thunder and lightning!” Unlike her middle sister, Cari won’t take credit she doesn’t deserve.
“That would have been dangerous. Dangerous isn’t the same as scary, you know.”

Miguel has noticed this before. Cari is very particular about her vocabulary. That must be why she is always asking what words mean. She’s probably going to grow up to be an author, maybe an author of dictionaries. Somebody’s got to write them.

“Okay, so there wasn’t any thunder and lightning, but you went out exploring to a pond full of bullfrogs that you were scared of last night.”

“They’re more scared of me than I am of them,” Cari declares. She demonstrates by patting the Mason jar with her hand. Sure enough, the little tadpoles dart away frantically. “And the big frogs all hopped in the water when they saw us coming, and they stayed hiding and didn’t make a sound. Right?” She turns to Miguel. After all, this is too incredible to be believed without the confirmation of a witness. Miguel nods.

“And they aren’t bully frogs, they’re bullfrogs, because they sound like bulls.”

From the table, where their respective parents have one ear cocked to the conversation by the fireplace, Víctor says, “Way to go, Cari. You’re going to turn into a Vermont farm girl before the week is over.”

“I love Vermont,” Cari announces. “It’s not scary here. It’s more scary in New York.”

“One down and two to go,” her father remarks to Mami as they pack up their Scrabble game and join the campfire. Miguel must be the only one who overhears the comment, as the girls are busy besting each other’s stories
of the scariest thing that has happened to them in New York City.

When the girls run out of scary city stories, Víctor starts in on his own story of growing up in New Mexico. His family has lived there since before it was the United States of America, back when it was still part of Mexico. Before the story turns into too much of a history lesson, Victoria asks Mami about the Dominican Republic. What was it like growing up there? One thing leads to another, and soon Mami is plunged into the story of how she lost both her parents in an automobile accident when she was only three. Tía Lola, her mother’s younger sister, came from the countryside to take care of her little orphan niece.

The Swords are paying close attention to every word Mami is saying. The story of losing parents is one they can relate to.

“Tía Lola took wonderful care of me,” Mami says, misty-eyed. She squeezes her aunt’s hand.

Tía Lola squeezes back. “We took care of each other.”

“Our mother died three years ago,” Victoria says haltingly, as if she were still struggling to believe it.

They all sit in silence, caught up in sad thoughts. Valentino sighs. A log shifts in the fire. In the distance, the croaking of the bullfrogs is relentless, on and on and on. Then, out of nowhere, Cari says, “I’m sorry.” But she’s not talking to anyone in the room. Her face is right up against the Mason jar on the coffee table. Maybe she’s apologizing to the baby tadpoles for scaring them a while ago to prove a point. But then she turns to Miguel and asks if they can go out to the pond again before they go to bed.

“Sure,” Miguel says. He’s game for a night outing. It’ll feel good to walk around after eating so many s’mores.

“I know it stopped raining, but it’s going to be awful muddy out there,” Víctor cautions, bringing on the hurdles. “It’s a chilly night, too. You might catch cold.”

“But, Papa …” Cari’s voice has a teary edge. “The baby tadpoles will be orphans if we don’t take them back to their parents.”

Who can refuse such a request, especially given the recent topic of their conversation? The world is full of losses, but even so, magic happens: someone steps in to make it better. Tía Lola came to take care of Mami when her parents died. Years later, when their parents separated, she came to visit and stayed to take care of Miguel and Juanita.

Tonight it is Cari, a.k.a. Charity, returning baby tadpoles to their bullfrog parents. Mami and Tía Lola hunt down rain gear, and soon everyone is dressed in old Windbreakers, slickers, garbage-bag ponchos, boots and galoshes and sneakers. They troop outside, Miguel leading the way, followed by Cari, Mason jar in one hand, magical sword in the other.

Later, on his way to the attic, Miguel swings by to say good night to the girls—Mami’s suggestion. But he doesn’t mind. He is feeling a lot better, especially after seeing a few stars peeping out from the clouds as they walked back from the pond tonight. It looks like they might have practice tomorrow.

In her room, Cari is crawling into bed. “Night, Miguel!” she calls out, waving her sword before tucking it in beside her.

“What in the world!” Victoria exclaims, her mouth dropping in astonishment.

Cari scrambles out from under the sheets. She hopes there isn’t something scary in her bed that she has to be brave about now, too.

“Your sword,” Victoria points out, checking both sides of the blade. “There’s no name on it anymore.” Maybe the letters rubbed off when Cari was trailblazing through the wet field, swooshing at the long grass to be sure there were no porcupines or skunks or snakes or spiders in her way?

Victoria calls Tía Lola from next door, where she is tucking Juanita and Essie into the four-poster bed they have decided to share. “Tía Lola, did you and Cari exchange swords or something?”

“My sword is upstairs in my room,” Tía Lola declares. “And your sword never left your side. Isn’t that right, Cari?”

Cari nods. The sword has been her constant companion since Tía Lola said it would make the world less scary and help her become the big, brave girl she really is, who will soon be entering kindergarten.

“Now that it’s blank, you can put whatever you want on it,” Tía Lola says. And just like that, she pulls a marker out of her pocket so that Cari can write her real name in big, bold letters across the magic blade.

Four
monday

Víctor, the Victor

Monday dawns with a bright sun, flashing off the shed’s tin roof. By afternoon, the pasture will definitely be dry and ready for baseball practice. Miguel is feeling on top of the world, as if he really can work magic.

At breakfast, Víctor offers to help Miguel get the playing field ready, gathering the branches and twigs the rain brought down. Mami is relieved, as this will keep Víctor entertained until she gets home. Summer school is in full session, and though Mami is taking off a few days after July 4, she has to put in some hours today at the office. The girls will be fine in Tía Lola’s excellent care. Today, in fact, Tía Lola is running a sort of summer-camp spa, doing the girls’ nails, giving them pedicures, and curling their hair,
before they go to town to shop. A girly-girl day. Only Esperanza seems less than delighted with the prospect.

After breakfast, Miguel and Víctor head for the back pasture. They stop at the shed to deposit the baseball equipment they brought along. Before he stacks the last bat in the corner, Víctor takes a few swings. “Brings it all back,” he says dreamily.

“Brings what back?” Miguel is curious. They’ve been talking baseball nonstop: scores, players, teams.

“Oh, you know, being your age, having big dreams,” Víctor reminisces. “I wanted to be a major leaguer big-time. We didn’t really have much of a team to root for in New Mexico, but I watched all the games I could on TV. Even organized my own team. We got pretty good. My coach came out to talk with my
familia.
”