you were working and it wasn't nice to try to kid you about it, and I'm very sorry."
Chamaco stared at me during my little speech and kept on staring after I finished, as if he were afraid I might vanish in a puff of green vapor. He eventually reached into his breast pocket and withdrew a cigarette, which he lit. He blew smoke slowly and thoughtfully.
"What the faulk are you talking about?" he asked.
"Fiesta," I said. "You remember, this Fiesta when it started to snow and some friends of mine and I. . . ."
"Arnole, I been having a bunch of esmart-ass kids yelling at me since before you was born."
"You have?"
"Jess. That ain' what I come about." He blew some more smoke and stared at me again. "You know a boy name Tarzan? Tarzan Velarde?"
"Yes, I've met him."
"When's the last time that you seen him?"
"A couple of weeks ago, on Camino Chiquito."
"What did you talk about?"
"We didn't really talk about anything. He was chasing me, and I was running. He had a knife. I think it was a knife, anyway."
"Jess, it was a knife. He likes to go aroun' esticking it in people's tires. Lahs' night he estock it in a fren' of his. You prob'ly know him too. Maximiliano Lopez, goes to school here."
"You mean somebody stuck Chango Lopez with a knife?"
"Thahs right. Through the gots and part of the liver."
"Kill him?"
"No, didn't kill him. He's in the hospital, be there for a couple of weeks."
"Well, Sheriff, how come you're asking me about it? I hardly know Tarzan, just that time on Camino Chiquito. He's not what you'd call a good friend of mine."
"The reason I asked you is 'cause Chango tole me in the hospital, 'Ask Chosh Arnole.' Maybe he think there's something about it you know."
"I'm sorry, Sheriff, I don't know anything about it. I don't even know where Tarzan lives."
"Oh, we been to his house. He's not there, and his father tole us to go take a ronning faulk. So we think he's hide out somewhere, maybe in the hills north of town, maybe he hitch a ride somewhere."
"Mr. Trujillo, I swear I don't know anything about Tarzan Velarde, but if I see him I'll come tell you, and not stand there and argue with him."
Chamaco extinguished his cigarette and lit another one. "That's a good idea. His mother tole me she thinks he's crazy and ought to be lock up somewhere. Me, I jos' hope I don' have to shoot him." He blew some more smoke, and sought Tarzan in the swirling pattern. "You a good friend of the Lopez boy, huh?"
"No, sir, I don't think you'd say Chango and I are exactly friends, either. As a matter of fact, he doesn't like me very much. Of course, I'm sorry he got knifed in the liver."
"I known Lopez since he was confirmed. He's toff, an' he's mean-talking, bot he ain' as moch trouble as a lotta boys. He wouldn't tell me how come Tarzan estock him. He says he's gone get Tarzan himself, which I don't think is ver' likely in his condition right now. Are you sure you're not a good fren' of Lopez's? He sure was talking there in the hospital like you was."
"If he thinks we're friends he's got a funny way of showing it. He keeps accusing me of messing around with his sister."
"Oh, jess. His sister. That's Viola." Chamaco made the cupped hand gesture in front of his shirt.
"That's the one," I said.
"Hokay, why don't you get back to the classroom. I'll tell Mr. Alexander to spread the word about keeping a lookout for Tarzan." He heaved himself out of his chair, and paused. "Nex' year, if I see you yellin at me by the bandstand, I'm coming offa there and kick the cheat out of you. Hokay?"
"Okay. Sheriff."
After classes that morning, Marcia and Steenie and I walked over to Rumpp's Pharmacy for one of their double-thin chocolate malts. The snow was beginning to melt, and was piling up gray and sad against the hedges. The gutters were full of brown water and in spite of the blue sky it was a depressing day, cold and slushy. I wanted some fresh snow to fall and cover up the ugly places.
Steenie felt it, too. "One more good snow,"
Chamaco stared at me during my little speech and kept on staring after I finished, as if he were afraid I might vanish in a puff of green vapor. He eventually reached into his breast pocket and withdrew a cigarette, which he lit. He blew smoke slowly and thoughtfully.
"What the faulk are you talking about?" he asked.
"Fiesta," I said. "You remember, this Fiesta when it started to snow and some friends of mine and I. . . ."
"Arnole, I been having a bunch of esmart-ass kids yelling at me since before you was born."
"You have?"
"Jess. That ain' what I come about." He blew some more smoke and stared at me again. "You know a boy name Tarzan? Tarzan Velarde?"
"Yes, I've met him."
"When's the last time that you seen him?"
"A couple of weeks ago, on Camino Chiquito."
"What did you talk about?"
"We didn't really talk about anything. He was chasing me, and I was running. He had a knife. I think it was a knife, anyway."
"Jess, it was a knife. He likes to go aroun' esticking it in people's tires. Lahs' night he estock it in a fren' of his. You prob'ly know him too. Maximiliano Lopez, goes to school here."
"You mean somebody stuck Chango Lopez with a knife?"
"Thahs right. Through the gots and part of the liver."
"Kill him?"
"No, didn't kill him. He's in the hospital, be there for a couple of weeks."
"Well, Sheriff, how come you're asking me about it? I hardly know Tarzan, just that time on Camino Chiquito. He's not what you'd call a good friend of mine."
"The reason I asked you is 'cause Chango tole me in the hospital, 'Ask Chosh Arnole.' Maybe he think there's something about it you know."
"I'm sorry, Sheriff, I don't know anything about it. I don't even know where Tarzan lives."
"Oh, we been to his house. He's not there, and his father tole us to go take a ronning faulk. So we think he's hide out somewhere, maybe in the hills north of town, maybe he hitch a ride somewhere."
"Mr. Trujillo, I swear I don't know anything about Tarzan Velarde, but if I see him I'll come tell you, and not stand there and argue with him."
Chamaco extinguished his cigarette and lit another one. "That's a good idea. His mother tole me she thinks he's crazy and ought to be lock up somewhere. Me, I jos' hope I don' have to shoot him." He blew some more smoke, and sought Tarzan in the swirling pattern. "You a good friend of the Lopez boy, huh?"
"No, sir, I don't think you'd say Chango and I are exactly friends, either. As a matter of fact, he doesn't like me very much. Of course, I'm sorry he got knifed in the liver."
"I known Lopez since he was confirmed. He's toff, an' he's mean-talking, bot he ain' as moch trouble as a lotta boys. He wouldn't tell me how come Tarzan estock him. He says he's gone get Tarzan himself, which I don't think is ver' likely in his condition right now. Are you sure you're not a good fren' of Lopez's? He sure was talking there in the hospital like you was."
"If he thinks we're friends he's got a funny way of showing it. He keeps accusing me of messing around with his sister."
"Oh, jess. His sister. That's Viola." Chamaco made the cupped hand gesture in front of his shirt.
"That's the one," I said.
"Hokay, why don't you get back to the classroom. I'll tell Mr. Alexander to spread the word about keeping a lookout for Tarzan." He heaved himself out of his chair, and paused. "Nex' year, if I see you yellin at me by the bandstand, I'm coming offa there and kick the cheat out of you. Hokay?"
"Okay. Sheriff."
After classes that morning, Marcia and Steenie and I walked over to Rumpp's Pharmacy for one of their double-thin chocolate malts. The snow was beginning to melt, and was piling up gray and sad against the hedges. The gutters were full of brown water and in spite of the blue sky it was a depressing day, cold and slushy. I wanted some fresh snow to fall and cover up the ugly places.
Steenie felt it, too. "One more good snow,"
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