“Having adventures makes a squire hungry,” Pancho said.
“A knight, too!”
Pancho plunged into the saddlebag and came up with three biscuits. One for Dom, one for Roco, and the last one for himself.
Dom hadn’t even finished her biscuit when Roco stiffened and pointed. The cat! Again!
“Woewayway, you scoundwerel!” Dom yelled through her biscuit.
“The shelter!”
They carefully lay the bunnies in the saddlebag. Pancho left the top open so they could breathe. Dom and Roco cornered the mother. After a little struggle, Dom managed to cradle her in a sling made from her cape.
The animal shelter on Sixth Street welcomed them. The manager of the shelter praised the knight and her squire for their bravery.
“We’ll put a flyer on our window,” she said. “And put the word out in the neighborhood. She’s not a field rabbit. She’s somebody’s pet for sure. Someone might be really grateful to you.”
Dom glowed. Exactly what a knight-errant needed on her first quest.
* * *
Dom washed her hands in the hall bathroom and screeched into the dining room. Mami, Papi, and Rafi were all waiting.
“You’re late, Dominguita,” Mami said.
“Sorry, sorry, sorry. I was busy with an exciting rescue!”
“Tell me your deeds, brave knight,” Rafi said. “How were your adventures?”
“Magnificent!” Dom served herself meat loaf and mashed potatoes. Not the Cuban food Abuela would have cooked, but still. It was good. She told the story of her day between bites.
“Bunnies?” Mami exclaimed. “Abuela will love it. You know how much she likes furry things.”
“Oh yeah. She’ll love it,” Papi said, but Dom could tell he wasn’t really excited.
Dom looked at her brother, but Rafi was deep in his mashed potatoes.
“The cat was scary,” Dom said. “Just ask Pancho. He was quivering all over the place.”
“Hmmm.” Rafi stood up and cleared his plate from the table.
After the dishes were done, Dom FaceTimed Abuela and told her all about her day. She also told Abuela that Rafi wasn’t impressed. And if Rafi wasn’t impressed, he might not write the book.
“I think it was a good enough adventure,” Abuela said. “I bet if you talk to him again, he’ll change his mind. Besides, I want every little deed in the book.”
“Right,” Dom said. Abuela was right. Rafi would change his mind if Abuela said so. But it turned out not to be that easy.
“Look,” her brother said. “What do you think Ernie Bublassi will say about bunnies?”
“Oh.”
“Yeah. Oh.”
“The people at the shelter thought we were brave. I sent them our picture to put in their newsletter.”
“They’re not Ernie Bublassi!”
“We-e-ell…” She was desperate to change her brother’s mind. “Rescuing bunnies isn’t as fearsome as fighting an army of knights on horseback, but it is something. Abuela wants you to write about it anyway. It wasn’t a great adventure, but it was a good adventure. Good enough. I didn’t have time to find an amazing adventure today. Tomorrow I’ll do something better. Something worthy of a fearsome knight!”
“You’d better,” Rafi said. “It’s gonna take something really huge to show up Ernie Bublassi.”
Dom shuffled off to the living room. She plopped on the couch and didn’t even turn on the television. How could she become a fearsome and worthy knight?
“You know what you need to go along with the bunnies?” Rafi said, suddenly by her ear. “A knighting ceremony. You need someone to dub you a knight. That will amaze Ernie Bublassi. Then you can throw the bunnies in as a bonus. I know how we can do it.”
“Now, why didn’t I think of that? We’ll need a sword—that’s what el Señor Fuentes said. And someone to dub me.”
“Mr. Kowalski has an awesome sword hanging right in his grocery store.” Rafi had delivered groceries for Kowalski’s the previous summer.
“And he’s a nobleman?”
“It’s a really awesome sword.”
“Do you think he’ll do it?”
“I’ll call him right now.”
* * *
“No worries,” Rafi said when he got off the phone. “Mr. Kowalski comes from a most honorable line of knights in Poland. And he’ll be happy to knight you.”
“You think?”
“I told him Dom Capote, the Knight of the Cape, would soon be over.”
And Rafi offered something even better. Since it might be dark, he’d take her there now and pick her up when she was done.
7 A Knighting Ceremony
Kowalski’s Grocery was two blocks from Fuentes Salvage. Dom ran as fast as the pail on her head would let her—it kept slipping down on her nose and covering her eyes. When she reached the grocery store, Mr. Kowalski was waiting for her.
“Ah, Don Capote, the knight in shining armor!” Mr. Kowalski bowed. He had a bushy brown and black mustache, like the wooly worms that tell how long winter’s going to last.
“Dom,” she said. “Not Don. And I’m not a knight yet. That’s what you’re supposed to do.”
“Ah yes. I see. My wife is already looking for the key to the sword case.” He pointed to a glass case high on a wall, below a neon sign for Puckered Pickles.
Dom gasped. The case was bathed in light from the pickle sign. The silver blade gleamed neon green. It looked magical. Like it had been placed there just for her. A circle with a fancy K filled the middle of the sword’s golden handle. Swirly lines surrounded it. Below the black leather sheath, a silky pom-pom hung like a pendulum from a clock. The perfect sword for a knighting ceremony.
“Where did it come from?” Dom asked, snapping a picture.
“My Polish ancestors. Handed down through generations,” Mr. Kowalski said.
“Very suitable.” Dom thought that’s what a knight would say. Then she thought she’d better check that Rafi had been right.
“You come from a long line of knights?” she asked. She didn’t want to give Ernie Bublassi any reason to say she wasn’t a knight.
“Knights and kings!” The woolly worm jumped as he talked. “Who else but noblemen would call such a handsome sword their own! We’ll knight you as soon as my wife finds the key.”
“Most honored,” Dom said, starting to slip out of her armor. “You know, I need to hold a vigil over my armor before I can become a knight.”
“Mmm.”
“That’s what all the knight books say. Don Quijote, King Arthur… they spent the night watching over their armor before they were dubbed.”
“Mmmmmm.”
Dom nodded, as if Mr. Kowalski had agreed. “I’ll find a corner, by the vegetables. Nobody goes over there anyway.”
“We close at nine o’clock.…”
“No problem. Rafi’s coming by to pick me up at closing.”
Dom carried her armor to the fruit and vegetable aisle. She had to step over a pineapple. And almost slipped on an orange. It wasn’t a very orderly place. Mr. Kowalski must be too busy to keep it neat. Perhaps Dom could help since Mr. Kowalski had agreed to dub her with his awesome, noble sword. That’s what a good knight would do.
Quickly, she arranged each fruit and vegetable bin. She made pyramids of pineapples. And rows of radishes. She lined up the limes and the lemons. And arranged the apples by type. She even read the number on the sticker to make sure she put the right ones together. Another good deed for a knight-to-be!
When she was done, Dom placed her armor between the bins of rutabagas and parsnips. She lay it down as if bringing a baby bird back to its nest.
Then she stood over it.
She stood on one leg. And then on the other. She knelt over the armor. She recited nursery rhymes and The Night Before Christmas. She sang the songs her mami sang to her when she was little. She sneaked a peek at the clock. What? Only forty minutes had passed since her vigil had started.
/>
She paced up and down the vegetable aisle one more time and then decided it was time to get dubbed. She bundled up her armor and stepped toward the register.
“I think my vigil has lasted long enough,” she said as soon as Mr. Kowalski was free. “You can dub me any time you’re ready.”
“But I thought you were staying till nine!”
Dom shrugged. “Don Quijote didn’t last very long, either. We should go ahead. I called Rafi. He’s on his way over.”
She put on her armor, knelt, and bowed her head.
“Uh… Dom… my wife hasn’t found the key to the sword case yet.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah…”
“We’ll have to make do.”
“What about this?” Mr. Kowalski showed her a stick he used to bring down the metal shutters that protected the store at night. It ended in a hook.
Dom used a corner of her cape to wipe the grease off the end.
“It’ll work,” she said. “But since your wife isn’t here, let’s wait for Rafi. He can take a picture.”
“Of course,” Mr. Kowalski said.
* * *
“The sword’s locked up,” she told her brother when he got there. “You think that’ll be a problem?”
“Never!” Rafi said. “I’ll take a picture of the sword and photoshop it in. It’s a little cheat, but it’s to put Ernie Bublassi in his place. No problem.”
Dom knelt again in front of Mr. Kowalski.
He raised the stick. “By the power vested in me by…” Mr. Kowalski looked around for whoever should have vested the power in him.
Dom shrugged and motioned for him to go on.
“By the power vested in me, I dub you Sir Dom Capote, the Knight of the Cape.” Mr. Kowalski touched the stick to each of Dom’s shoulders. The phone flashed.
Dom stayed down as if in silent prayer. Something should be happening, right? Some kind of feeling? But there was none.
“Picture came out great,” Rafi said, trying to break the awkward moment.
“Yes, you may rise,” Mr. Kowalski said.
“Thank you, my good man,” Dom told the grocer.
“Best of luck to you, Dom Capote.”
“Okay,” she told her brother. “I did another good deed, but you don’t have to say anything about it. I was glad to do it for Mr. Kowalski. So when you do the book, just a little bit on the bunnies and a lot on the knighting. Put the pictures all around it. Ernie will want to know that I was dubbed properly.”
“As you wish, great knight.”
8 A Bully
The next day, before the sun cracked the tops of the apartment buildings, Dom perched on the fire escape throwing pebbles at Pancho Sanchez’s window. Roco barked from the sidewalk. Dom had brought him a blanket and a cereal bowl full of water the night before, and he’d stayed right by the door to her building. She’d give him some breakfast from Yuca, Yuca.
Roco’s bark and the pebbles did their jobs. A sleepy Pancho opened the window. The mop of black hair on his head hadn’t made up its mind what to do yet.
“If you want to be a squire,” Dom said, “you’d better be up early.”
“Why would I get up early on a Sunday!”
“We’re on a quest! We need to find a really good adventure.” Dom pivoted, like a soldier. “I’ll see you at Yuca, Yuca in twenty minutes. Be there!”
“Ugh!”
* * *
El Señor Prieto waved a dishcloth as Dom stepped into the restaurant. “Tell me about your quest yesterday, O wondrous knight.”
Dom shrugged “We rescued some bunnies from a cat.”
“You sound disappointed.”
This time she explained about Ernie Bublassi and needing the pictures. And the book. “Rafi didn’t think it was a great adventure. Or my papi. I don’t think Pancho did, either. Not for proving I’m a great and fearsome girl-knight. Abuela said we should count everything, but she loves me, you know?”
Pancho’s uncle held himself straight up as if Pancho and Rafi had challenged him to a duel. He scratched his beard in deep thought. “I’m sure she meant it. And she was proud of your deeds! Tell me every detail. I’ll tell you if it was suitable for a knight.”
Dom did.
El Señor Prieto was very impressed. “Well, then,” he said. “Would Don Quijote be disappointed at such an adventure?”
Dom reached for the broom. How would Don Quijote feel? What would Don Quijote do?
She straightened her shoulders, shouldered the broom, and headed out the door. She nodded, mostly at herself. “He would say what I told Rafi last night. Today. Today we’ll have a real adventure.”
* * *
By the time Pancho got there, Dom was munching on buñuelos. A plateful of the figure-eight pastries bathed in sticky syrup lay on the counter. Pancho’s eyes bugged out.
“Hola, Tío,” Pancho Sanchez said. “Can I…?”
“Time to go!” Dom stuffed a last bite into her mouth. She licked her fingers and grabbed the bag el Señor Prieto had made for their lunch. “I was dubbed last night. I’m a real knight now and we’re having a real adventure today, Pancho. Gotta get started.”
“But… but…”
“Here you go, Pancho.” El Señor Prieto wrapped a buñuelo in a napkin for his nephew.
Pancho grabbed the gift from his uncle and stuck his tongue out at Dom’s back. He munched as they left Yuca, Yuca. He even shared a bite with Roco.
The knight, her squire, and the steed walked in the opposite direction from the day before.
Dom told Pancho about the knighting ceremony. “My brother put our pictures into a book last night. And he wrote down all our adventures.” Dom didn’t tell Pancho that Rafi thought their bunny adventure was too lame to impress Ernie Bublassi. “He said he and I would be like Miguel de Cervantes and Don Quijote.”
“Umph.” Pancho licked his fingers as they walked.
“And your uncle said we were most”—Dom scanned a far corner of her mind—“most IN-tre-pid!”
“My mom said don’t be late for dinner again.”
* * *
They looked for adventure. Heroic adventure. Adventure that Rafi would want to write about. With pictures that would blow Ernie Bublassi’s socks off.
Roco helped. He smelled everything along the way.
Dom Capote checked every cross street. She peeked up. Maybe she could find mischief in high places. They walked for blocks.
Pancho grumbled. And grumbled. Until he saw a fountain.
A girl about their age sat on its edge, dangling her legs in the water.
Roco leaped forward to take a drink.
“That fountain looks cool,” Pancho said.
“Don’t even think about it. We’re on a quest!”
“Can’t we just stop our quest for a bit to cool down?”
Dom wanted to tell Pancho what she thought about his whining, but a blur passed by the corner of her eye.
“Hey!” the girl on the fountain shrieked. “Gimme back my brace!”
Dom took off after a curly headed boy carrying a black metal and foam thing in his hand.
The boy was fast, but Dom was faster. She cornered him against a hedge.
“What are you doing, villain?” Dom faced the curly headed boy, lance in hand.
The bully turned and sneered. “What does it look like I’m doing, buckethead?”
Dom pointed the lance. “Give that leg brace back.”
“Says who?”
“I am Dom Capote, a knight-errant.” She swept her lance back toward Pancho. “This is my squire.”
“You’re an error, that’s for sure.”
“Errant. Errant. Knight-errant.” Dom stomped her foot. “That means I wander around looking for adventure and for creatures who need rescuing.”
“Yeah, right.” The bully wasn’t giving up the brace. “Why don’t you rescue your squire, there. He’s hiding in the bushes.”
Dom looked. The curly haired boy was ri
ght. A mop of black hair sticking out from a bush behind her was the only sign of her squire. Dom threw up her arms. “PANCHO!”
She didn’t really mean to do it, but as her hands, coiled tight around her lance, rose, the lance caught the leg brace. Score! Now that she had the prize, Dom yanked hard. The brace jerked out of the curly headed boy’s hands and flew back toward the fountain. In one swift, and totally awkward, motion.
“Whoa, whoa, buckethead. I didn’t do nothin’.”
“I didn’t do anything.” There were few things Dom liked less than incorrectly used double negatives.
“Yes, you did,” the girl yelled from the fountain. “You got my brace back.”
9 A Knight’s Trust
Dom concentrated on the bully in front of her. Should she teach him a lesson, or should she be kind? Perhaps she should be more than kind. The girl had told the truth. Dom had gotten the brace back. She had won. And after all, if she was trying to be a knight, she should act like a knight.
Menacing, Dom lowered her voice. “I should tattle on you,” she said. “But I will trust your honor as a gentleman. Promise never to bother this girl again. Actually…” Dom decided she’d really make it good. “Promise never to bother anyone again. If you promise, I will let you go.”
The bully seemed stunned for a second. Then his eyes widened and he grinned. Pancho, on the other hand, lunged to Dom’s side.
“What are you doing?” Pancho yelled. “Trust? Honor? What are you talking about? That’s Ernie’s brother Ponsi!”
“Quiet, Squire! I will trust him if he promises.” Dom stared at Ponsi. “Ponsi Bublassi, do you promise?”
A crooked smile snaked across the bully’s face. He nodded. “I promise to be kind to all. I promise to hurt no one, O error-knight. Trust me, you can.” The boy ended with a loud snort.
“Well, then.” This had been a lot easier than Dom Capote had expected. “Go in peace.”
Knight of the Cape Page 3