pick
one
. I picked everyone’s favorite
pan dulce
. And look here, fifteen
cochinitos
!”
“The
canicula
!” Mama said. “Don’t even bother going back to exchange them.”
After Berta found Mama’s keys under a carton of eggs on top of the refrigerator, we dropped Mama off at the
abuelitos
’ even hotter house, and then Berta, Lucy, and I kept driving around, just to keep cool.
I pointed to a temperature sign flashing 114 degrees. We drove two blocks and I pointed to another, flashing 118 degrees.
“Two blocks and there’s a difference of four whole degrees. Is that crazy or what?” I said, now rubbing my eyes and thinking of the green fields at Saint Luke’s.
“Do you want to keep driving around or do you want to go to Wal-Mart?” asked Berta as she turned the corner.
“Wal-Mart? We went there last night!”
“Sofia, you know people here don’t go to Wal-Mart to buy things. It’s an extension of their homes, but with cool air and colorful things to see. And that’s where the
comadres
have started going to meet and talk. Like you go to the library for books, they go to Wal-Mart.”
“Yeah!” agreed Lucy, suddenly poking her head between Berta and me.
“Well, I’ll tell you both what
I
want. Pull over and let me drive.”
“You don’t even have a driver’s license.”
“
Berta,
Papa taught me everything. Now, come on. It’s my birthday.” She shook her head and then pulled over. We switched sides.
Papa had taught me to drive his Ford, but that was a standard. This would be my first try at an automatic. But I had been studying Berta, and it looked like a piece of cake—with only two pedals and just shifting from park to drive, and sometimes reverse.
A piece of cake!
I turned the ignition on, shifted to D, and then kicked off.
“Not bad,” said Berta.
I headed toward the high school, feeling a little sad that I’d never get to go there. Was it smart to be passing up graduating with my class, my friends? What if I
did
crash and burn at Saint Luke’s? Was it crazy to take the plunge into an unknown world? Was I being a mule?
Berta started laughing.
“What are you laughing at?” I said as we passed McHi and then the purple and gold water tower with the fierce McHi bulldog painted on it.
“The other day Beto told me about how he used to drive his friends around in that old car of his. And when it was over a hundred degrees outside, right when he caught sight of McHi, he’d give a sharp whistle and everyone would roll up their windows.”
“Why?”
“So that people would think they were so cool with the air-conditioner on.”
“That jalopy that jerked and cracked like a firecracker?”
“The very same one. And you know what?”
“What?”
“Beto told me he thinks you’re pretty!” Lucy started making kissing sounds.
“
God
! I’m
so
glad I’m getting away from here and especially from you two
locas
!” I said as I headed down Twenty-third Street toward the church. We could see waves of heat rising up from the hot asphalt like smoke.
“Do you remember your idea, Sofia, of wetting towels and draping them over our legs to keep cool at night?” Berta said.
“
Remember?
Lucy and I still do it. And now that we’re
comadres,
Berta, we have to get some of those paper fans that are stapled to those wooden sticks that the doctor uses to choke you, and start fanning ourselves as we gossip and gossip,” I said, driving past Navarro School, where Berta and I had gone as kids.
“Can I do that too?” asked Lucy, her head still between Berta and me.
I was going to say something funny or sarcastic, but then I caught a glimpse of Lucy’s big bright eyes and realized that she was serious. “Do what?”
“Be a
comadre
with you and Berta?” I looked at Berta and winked.
“Of course,” I said, smiling. “And your new
comadres
have a surprise for you.”
“What?” Lucy said. She almost climbed into the front with us. Berta looked at me, wondering.
I pulled
one
. I picked everyone’s favorite
pan dulce
. And look here, fifteen
cochinitos
!”
“The
canicula
!” Mama said. “Don’t even bother going back to exchange them.”
After Berta found Mama’s keys under a carton of eggs on top of the refrigerator, we dropped Mama off at the
abuelitos
’ even hotter house, and then Berta, Lucy, and I kept driving around, just to keep cool.
I pointed to a temperature sign flashing 114 degrees. We drove two blocks and I pointed to another, flashing 118 degrees.
“Two blocks and there’s a difference of four whole degrees. Is that crazy or what?” I said, now rubbing my eyes and thinking of the green fields at Saint Luke’s.
“Do you want to keep driving around or do you want to go to Wal-Mart?” asked Berta as she turned the corner.
“Wal-Mart? We went there last night!”
“Sofia, you know people here don’t go to Wal-Mart to buy things. It’s an extension of their homes, but with cool air and colorful things to see. And that’s where the
comadres
have started going to meet and talk. Like you go to the library for books, they go to Wal-Mart.”
“Yeah!” agreed Lucy, suddenly poking her head between Berta and me.
“Well, I’ll tell you both what
I
want. Pull over and let me drive.”
“You don’t even have a driver’s license.”
“
Berta,
Papa taught me everything. Now, come on. It’s my birthday.” She shook her head and then pulled over. We switched sides.
Papa had taught me to drive his Ford, but that was a standard. This would be my first try at an automatic. But I had been studying Berta, and it looked like a piece of cake—with only two pedals and just shifting from park to drive, and sometimes reverse.
A piece of cake!
I turned the ignition on, shifted to D, and then kicked off.
“Not bad,” said Berta.
I headed toward the high school, feeling a little sad that I’d never get to go there. Was it smart to be passing up graduating with my class, my friends? What if I
did
crash and burn at Saint Luke’s? Was it crazy to take the plunge into an unknown world? Was I being a mule?
Berta started laughing.
“What are you laughing at?” I said as we passed McHi and then the purple and gold water tower with the fierce McHi bulldog painted on it.
“The other day Beto told me about how he used to drive his friends around in that old car of his. And when it was over a hundred degrees outside, right when he caught sight of McHi, he’d give a sharp whistle and everyone would roll up their windows.”
“Why?”
“So that people would think they were so cool with the air-conditioner on.”
“That jalopy that jerked and cracked like a firecracker?”
“The very same one. And you know what?”
“What?”
“Beto told me he thinks you’re pretty!” Lucy started making kissing sounds.
“
God
! I’m
so
glad I’m getting away from here and especially from you two
locas
!” I said as I headed down Twenty-third Street toward the church. We could see waves of heat rising up from the hot asphalt like smoke.
“Do you remember your idea, Sofia, of wetting towels and draping them over our legs to keep cool at night?” Berta said.
“
Remember?
Lucy and I still do it. And now that we’re
comadres,
Berta, we have to get some of those paper fans that are stapled to those wooden sticks that the doctor uses to choke you, and start fanning ourselves as we gossip and gossip,” I said, driving past Navarro School, where Berta and I had gone as kids.
“Can I do that too?” asked Lucy, her head still between Berta and me.
I was going to say something funny or sarcastic, but then I caught a glimpse of Lucy’s big bright eyes and realized that she was serious. “Do what?”
“Be a
comadre
with you and Berta?” I looked at Berta and winked.
“Of course,” I said, smiling. “And your new
comadres
have a surprise for you.”
“What?” Lucy said. She almost climbed into the front with us. Berta looked at me, wondering.
I pulled
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