Knight of the Cape

by Terry Catasus Jennings

  To Lou, who takes on the world so I can write

  —T. C. J.

  To my nephew, Memito, and my niece Sofi

  —F. A.

  1 A Dare

  All Dominguita Melendez wanted to do today was read.

  Her teacher, Mrs. Kannerpin, had encouraged her to “socialize” during recess. But Dominguita didn’t want to socialize. She always had adventures to go on and new characters to meet. She ought to be able to read, right? Other kids got stars for reading one book, after all. And today, more than any other day, Dominguita just wanted to read.

  It didn’t look like she would be able to do what she wanted, though. Not with Ernie Bublassi heading her way.

  “Krankypants wants you to join the game,” he said.

  Why couldn’t Mrs. Kannerpin leave her alone? And why had she sent the biggest jerk in her grade to find her?

  “She said someone needed to look for you, and I volunteered,” Ernie said.

  Great. He could read her mind.

  “She wants you to come play dodgeball.”

  “Ugh.” Dominguita slammed her book shut.

  Ernie shrugged. “Everybody knows you read ’cause you don’t have any friends.”

  “Huh? I do so have friends!” Dominguita’s fists clenched.

  “Who?”

  She wanted to tell Ernie Bublassi the names of all her friends, but since Miranda moved to a place called Pascagoula in second grade, she’d been too busy reading to find any more friends.

  “I don’t need friends,” she said, even though she still missed Miranda. “I’m studying to be a knight.”

  The minute she said it, she knew she was in trouble. BIG trouble. And it was all because Ernie Bublassi knew how to make her mad. And angry. And upset. And furious.

  He grabbed her book. “A knight! You studying to be a knight? Girls can’t be knights! I never heard of any girl-knights.”

  Dominguita would gladly have told him about Joan of Arc—she was a kind of knight, right? There must have been others. Dominguita was sure. But there was only one thing on her mind.

  “Give it back! That’s my grandmother’s book!”

  “Oh yeah? You studying to be an old-lady knight?” Ernie Bublassi threw the book in the playground dirt. “You’ll never be a knight.”

  “I can too be a knight. I’ll show you! And you are the meanest person in the universe!”

  She picked the book up as if it were holy. And it was. It was one of the things her grandmother loved best, and right now Dominguita couldn’t think of anything she loved more. She stomped toward the dodgeball game. It was the only way she would get rid of Ernie Bublassi.

  But Ernie Bublassi wasn’t through with her.

  “Hey, guys!” he yelled as they reached the dodgeball game. “Dominguita’s gonna be a knight. She’s studying for it. A girl-knight. As if she wasn’t weird enough already.”

  2 A Problem

  It was a problem. A real problem. The truth was, Dominguita did not really want to be a knight. All she wanted to do right now was read the books she and Abuela used to read before bedtime. Starting with the one she’d been reading during recess—Don Quijote—Abuela’s favorite. She needed to be reading to stay close to Abuela.

  Because Abuela had left yesterday for Florida, to live with her sister.

  Because Abuela couldn’t remember things like she used to, and Dominguita’s mami was afraid something would happen to her, alone, in their apartment, during the day.

  Dominguita had begged. She promised to stay home after school every day so that Abuela didn’t have to move away yet. Maybe she’d get better and she wouldn’t have to go live with her sister at all!

  Mami didn’t think that would happen, so Abuela had to leave.

  Dominguita missed Abuela worse than awful. Reading the books they used to read together helped make her feel like Abuela was still there. Just a little. They were books Abuela brought from Cuba. Kids’ books about knights and pirates and travels around the world and under the sea.

  But walking home, Dominguita did nothing but think about Ernie Bublassi. She planned and unplanned. Her brain spun. Her hands whirled and she talked to herself. She hated that Ernie was right. She didn’t really have any friends. Not since Miranda. But there was nothing she could do about that. Maybe she could show him that she could be a knight. A knight like Don Quijote. She knew what Abuela would tell her: “You can even fight a giant if you set your mind to it.”

  She would show Ernie Bublassi what was what. She was not weird. And she could totally be a worthy knight!

  How to be a knight was not a problem. She’d just about memorized Don Quijote. She knew King Arthur and his roundtable backward and forward.

  The problem was how to prove it.

  She needed her brother Rafi’s help. Rafi used to be close to her, but not now.

  Not now that he was in high school.

  And he decided to play football and write for the school newspaper.

  Before that, he played Parcheesi and Clue and Monopoly with her. Sometimes he would even join Abuela and Dominguita while they read aloud before bed. And he would tell Dominguita what books she might like and then they’d talk about them.

  But now he was always practicing his tackles.

  Or writing.

  He never had time for Dominguita.

  Except sometimes he tackled her just to practice.

  Dominguita missed playing with her brother, but now she really needed him.

  She leaned on the door to his room. “I’m gonna be a knight,” she told him. “Starting now. And I need you to write a book about me.”

  Rafi’s eyes narrowed. “And why do I need to write a book about you?”

  This was the part she’d spent the most time thinking about. She wanted Rafi’s help. She wanted Rafi to tell her she could beat Ernie Bublassi. She missed spending time with him. But what if Rafi was too busy? What if he didn’t want to spend time helping her? She thought and thought, trying to figure out a way that she could hook him. It wasn’t the reason at first, but once the idea of the book came to her… well… it was perfect.

  “It’s for Abuela,” she said. “It’s to help her. Like she can still be with us. You know how we would always read at night? Before she left for Florida? Now she’ll read the book about me. What could be better, right? We’ll FaceTime with her every night. And then e-mail it to her. She can even tell her new friends about it. Give her something to talk about.”

  “Hmm. If she can remember.”

  “Exactly! She needs to have a book to remind her of what I did.”

  Rafi hadn’t kicked her out of his room yet. Maybe it was working.

  Dominguita kept going. She was counting on what was coming next. “That’s not all. Ernie Bublassi said girls can’t be knights. I have to prove him wrong.”

  “Wait.” Rafi sat straight up. “Did you say Bublassi? One of the dastardly Bublassi brothers? The biggest bullies in Mundytown?”

  Dominguita nodded solemnly. “Yup. The third-grade Bublassi.”

  “You’re not friends with him, are you?”

  “No way!”

  Dominguita told her brother what had happened. “He can’t get away with saying that girls can’t be knights,” she told him, then lowered her voice. “And he said I was weird.”

  “No!”

  Dominguita nodded.

  “Holy cow! You definitely have to show him.” Dominguita had Rafi’s attention now. “Rico Bublassi’s in my grade and he’s the biggest jerk ever. I love this!”

  She had him! He was going to help her!

  But he sat back down.

  “Any Bublassi I know won’t read a book.”

  He had her there. But she had a
lready figured that out too.

  She pulled out her phone. “Remember? Mami gave me a phone since Abuela’s not here. It’s so I can call her at work if I’m abducted by aliens or she needs to know I’m home.”

  Rafi gave one very slow nod.

  “So whenever I do something knightly, I’ll take a selfie. I can’t just hand Ernie a bunch of selfies, right?” Dominguita could see the wheels turning in her brother’s head. She took a breath and barreled on. “So we make a book. A book of pictures of my knightly adventures. He’ll look at that. Especially if we have lots of pictures. Of course they’ll have to be heroic.”

  “Heroic, yes. And lots of them, yes. I think you’ve got it. I think it will work. We’ll show those Bublassi brothers what’s what. I’ll definitely help you!”

  Rafi sprang to his closet and rummaged on the floor. “And I have something perfect for a knight.” He pulled out a slick poncho—army green.

  “A poncho?”

  “We’ll make it into a cape.”

  “A cape?”

  “I found it in the trash outside the Army Navy Surplus. I was sure I could use it for something, and now here you are. It will protect you. Don Quijote called himself the Knight of the Sad Face, right?”

  Dominguita had no idea where her brother was going with that, but she nodded with enthusiasm.

  “You will be El Caballero del Capote,” Rafi said. “Get it? Cape/capote? You’ll be the Knight of the Cape.”

  Dominguita grinned. It had worked! Rafi would help her become a knight. And they were finally spending time together again.

  They cut off the bottom of the poncho so it wouldn’t drag on the ground. They fixed one of the tattered ties at the neck with duct tape. She decided to keep the hood in case it rained.

  Rafi admired his work. He nodded. “A most fearsome knight.”

  “And you’ll write about me? Songs and poems like Don Quijote?”

  “About your noble deeds with valiant steeds and rescues of damsels in distress!”

  “I’ll have to think about the whole damsels in distress part,” Dominguita said.

  “I get it.” Rafi nodded. “When you tell me your brave deeds and give me your pictures, I’ll make a book. We’ll show the Bublassi Bullies!”

  “And send it to Abuela!” Dominguita gave her brother a high five. “I will tell you my deeds,” she said. “When I’ve done them.”

  Now she had to convince her parents.

  3 A Knight in Training

  “I’m gonna be a knight,” Dom said at dinner.

  “A knight?” Papi said. “Will you fight dragons?”

  “A knight!” Mami didn’t give Dom a chance to answer her father. “You mean you’ll be playing with friends?”

  She wanted to answer Papi, but she really didn’t know what to say. There were no dragons in Mundytown. And then Mami. Why did she always want her to have friends? Had Mami been talking to Mrs. Kannerpin? Sure, it would be nice, but why did everyone want her to have friends all of a sudden?

  “No.” Dom’s voice was small when she said that.

  “Oh,” Mami said.

  Dom needed her mother to be more excited. “Rafi’s going to write a book about me. And we’ll share it with Abuela. That way she’ll have something to talk about with her new friends. Won’t that be nice?”

  “Ay, mi amor, Rafi, what a sweet idea! Abuela will totally love that.”

  “It’ll be great!” Rafi said. “And she’ll show…”

  Dom kicked her brother under the table. She wasn’t sure she wanted Mami and Papi to know about Ernie Bublassi.

  But it was too late.

  “What?” both her parents said at the same time.

  Dom shook her head. “Ernie Bublassi said I couldn’t be a knight. Girls can’t be knights—that’s what he says.”

  Papi jumped right in. “You’ll have to show him, won’t you!”

  Dom waited. Mami could stop everything right here and right now. But she didn’t!

  “That Ernie Double Bubble doesn’t know what he’s talking about! You’ll be a perfect knight. In fact, you’ll be more than perfect. With all the reading you’ve done about knights, you’ll be stupendous. A book. With pictures. That’s exactly what you need,” Mami declared.

  Phew!!!

  “I need to find armor. And a helmet. And a lance wouldn’t be bad either.”

  “Mmm.” Papi smoothed the scraggly hairs that sprouted from his chin. “I can help you with the lance. We’ll go to the storage unit after dinner.”

  “And it’s this weekend you’re being a knight, right?” Mami asked.

  “Yep. Starting in the morning.”

  “The weather’s supposed to still be warm, so you won’t need a coat. Just make sure you make your bed before you leave on your adventures.”

  It couldn’t have worked out better. Mami wasn’t even thinking about friends anymore.

  * * *

  On Saturday morning, Dom started out with her lance and Rafi’s cape. The cape was perfect. The lance Papi found her was the other half of a closet pole. Lightweight metal. Just the right size for her to hold and even twirl around.

  She’d made it perfect by adding the pointy end of Mami’s turkey baster to it.

  With duct tape.

  She couldn’t be happier.

  Now, to look for adventure. At least for someone she could help. Wasn’t that what knights did? At least when there weren’t any dragons around?

  Dominguita’s home was on the sixth floor of an apartment building surrounded by other apartment buildings. The sun didn’t peek onto the streets until high noon. Neighbors met on the stairs. They talked to one another from tiny balconies with rusty wrought-iron railings. They hung out on even rustier fire escapes. The streets were covered in cracked asphalt and potholes.

  But to Dominguita this was the best place in the world. She knew all the streets and she knew all the shopkeepers. This was where she felt at home.

  She took a right out of her building toward Eighteenth Street.

  She walked for about three blocks. Looking. Looking. Looking. She saw people. And dogs. And a couple of cats. But no one needed her help. She wanted to find a spectacular adventure. An Ernie Bublassi kind of spectacular adventure.

  But she wouldn’t turn down any chances to be helpful. Knights helped anyone in need.

  She finally found a lady, about as old as her Abuela, pulling a rolling cart with a couple of bags of groceries in it. It wouldn’t be heroic, but at least she’d have someone to help. The woman was going in her direction.

  Dom bowed low. “May I help you, kind lady?”

  The woman looked at Dom sideways.

  “I’m a knight,” Dom explained. “I’m just doing kind deeds while I look for adventure.”

  “Oh.”

  “May I help you with your cart?”

  “Uh…”

  “I’m a knight. I’m doing kind deeds. And I’m going your way.”

  The woman finally nodded. “A knight! Well, of course you can help me. I live three blocks from here.”

  Dom pulled the woman’s cart. For six blocks. Not three. The woman lost her way because she was talking. Then Dom carried the bags up three flights of steps. Not all at once. She took breaks at each floor. Then she brought up the little rolling cart, too.

  “I normally call my neighbor to help me up the steps,” the woman said. “Thank you!”

  Dom shook her head. “Knights are happy to help anyone in need.”

  As she walked down the steps from the woman’s apartment, she knew that Ernie Bublassi wouldn’t think helping an old lady carry her groceries was heroic. And maybe she wouldn’t be able to tell Abuela, either. It might make her grandmother miss Mundytown. She used to carry her groceries home in a cart just like the woman Dom had helped.

  Thinking of Abuela made Dom miss her again.

  Abuela had always been there when she got home from school. When she had a funny joke to tell. When she had a problem she couldn�
��t figure out. She needed to talk to Abuela right then.

  She punched Abuela’s number in her just-in-case-of-alien-invasion phone. Missing her grandmother was a good enough reason to use it.

  “I’m going to be a knight,” she told Abuela instead of saying how much she missed her.

  “A knight, Dominguita? Like Don Quijote?”

  “Yup. Just like him.”

  “And you have a helmet and a breastplate and all that?”

  Dominguita told her about Rafi’s cape and Papi’s lance with the turkey baster on its end.

  “I love it!” Abuela said. “You know my friend Emilio Fuentes? He has that salvage yard on Twenty-Fourth and Washington. I bet you could find the rest of your armor there. It’s a junk shop.”

  “Hmm.” One good thing about helping the lady was that Dom was now close to Twenty-Fourth and Washington. “Great idea!”

  “Tell Emilio hello for me. I miss him.”

  Dom didn’t want to talk about missing, so she changed the subject.

  “And Rafi’s gonna write a book about me. To send to you. So you can share it with your friends.”

  “Couldn’t be more perfect,” Abuela said. “Rafi, that friend of yours…”

  Dom waited a minute. Her heart felt a big squeeze. Abuela had remembered el Señor Fuentes, but she couldn’t remember who her grandson was. “Rafi, remember? That’s my brother. Your other grandkid.”

  “Yes, Rafi, of course! He’s a good writer. I can’t wait to see the book.”

  Dom saw Fuentes Salvage across the street. She told her grandmother. “I’ll FaceTime with you tonight,” she said. “And I’ll tell you my adventures.”

  * * *

  El Señor Fuentes had one blue eye and one brown eye. He sold things he got from places that people tore down. Abuela was right. If there was anywhere to find armor in her neighborhood, it would be at Fuentes Salvage.

  “I’m about to become a knight,” she told el Señor Fuentes. “I need some armor.”

  “A knight, Dominguita?” El Señor Fuentes raised the eyebrow over the blue eye.