by J. J. Howard
I planned to get Osito from Calvin’s in the morning, and then I could hang out at Mrs. R’s apartment until her daughter came. Hopefully, I could finally make some real progress on my coding project while I waited.
Tali and I stayed for a few more minutes, and Mrs. R thanked us about eight more times for the soup. I realized that I definitely should have come to visit her before today.
On the way downstairs in the elevator, I said to Tali, “Wow, that was amazing—you didn’t actually lie to Mrs. R, but you made her feel better about Osito. I knew you’d know the right thing to say.”
Tali gave me a strange look. “It was still lying, Ana. You know that, right? But in this case, Mrs. R doesn’t know Calvin or his family, so telling her would only have upset her. Meanwhile, you do know them, and Osito’s being well taken care of. So in my view it wouldn’t have actually been kind to tell her the truth.”
“I hope I did the right thing.”
“You did what you thought was best. That’s all anybody can do.”
“Ugh, there you go being wise again.”
“With age comes great wisdom,” Tali said in a low voice. We both laughed as we stepped out onto the sidewalk. It’s not like the joke was all that funny, really, but Tali was right. It was a sister thing.
* * *
That night after dinner I took the dishes over to the sink and started to rinse them.
“What are you doing?” Mom asked.
“The dishes.”
She narrowed her eyes at me. “What are you after?”
I felt hurt that my doing something nice made Mom suspicious. “You had to work late, then cook. Papi just got home, and Tali did me a favor by going to the hospital with me and getting the soup. So dishes are me tonight.”
Mom didn’t say anything else, but I thought I saw her give Papi a look.
I kept washing dishes. While I worked, I thought of ways I could improve my Waggle Walkers site. The ideas were swirling around in my head as I finished the last dish, stacked it in the overflowing drying rack, and went back to my room to work on the coding.
Tali was sitting at her desk, staring at her computer screen. “Did you finish your paper?” I asked her.
“No. I still need another two hundred words, but I have no idea what else to write. What else can you say about talking pigs?”
“Oh, your paper is on Animal Farm?”
She spun around to face me. “It annoys me that you know that based on the phrase talking pigs.”
I laughed. “I challenge you to think of another important work of literature that phrase would apply to! Besides Charlotte’s Web, of course.”
Tali didn’t laugh at that, she just frowned harder. “I guess you’ve read it, then. For fun or something.”
“Well, not fun exactly—when we were learning about the Russian Revolution in history last year, Mrs. Albaño mentioned the book, so I took it out of the library,” I explained. “I wasn’t sure I was gonna read the whole thing, but then it was so short, I did.”
“Ugh, I’d be annoyed at your overachieving, but it means now you can help me.”
Tali got up and pointed at the computer, so I sat down and started reading.
“Tali, this is really good,” I said after reading the first few paragraphs. “You make a great point about Snowball the pig.” I looked up at her. “Why are you being so hard on yourself?”
Her eyes goggled out at me. “Wait, did I miss the announcement about backward day? Did you just tell me to stop being hard on myself?”
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“Nobody is harder on themselves than you, Ana. Don’t you remember your science fair meltdown in fifth grade?”
“That doesn’t count.”
“Oh, please. You totally freaked because you didn’t think your project was good enough. And it won third place.”
“Yes, and everybody knows third place feels just like first.”
“See what I mean! Besides, sis—I’ve never won third place at anything.”
“Um, are you forgetting every first-place medal in the world at dance?” I pointed to the bookshelf where she kept her trophies and medals.
“I meant school stuff, Ana.”
“Oh, well, then—sorry. I wasn’t trying to be bratty about the whole third-place thing,” I said softly. “I’ve never won a medal for anything except school stuff. But that science fair freak-out was a one-time thing. I’m not usually like that …”
“Hermanita, I know you better than anybody. School’s your thing. You take it very seriously, and that’s okay. But just remember, you can’t control everything.”
I was about to argue with her, but then I realized she was right. It wasn’t a great feeling, though.
Sometime around midnight, Tali threw one of her stuffed animals at my head.
“Hey!”
“You’re thrashing around so much over there now I can’t sleep!”
I sat up, finding Mr. Stuffins the penguin and throwing him back over to her. “I’m nervous about telling Calvin the truth.”
“I’m sure Calvin will forgive you, once you explain.”
“Are you sure?” I whispered across our dark room.
“Well, I don’t see how I can be one hundred percent sure. But if he’s really your friend, I think he will.”
“I hope so.”
“Okay. Now go to sleep.”
I lay there for a few more minutes, feeling completely and totally awake. I hated when things were undecided. I decided to give up on sleep for the time being.
“I can’t sleep,” I told my sister. “I’m going to go to the bathroom and do some coding.”
“Oh, Ana—this is not normal behavior.”
“I’m willing to concede that point,” I said as I gathered up the laptop and a pillow to sit on and headed to the bathroom.
* * *
The next morning, exhausted from lack of sleep, I walked over to Calvin’s apartment to pick up Osito. Tali had agreed to come with me for moral support, since this was supposed to be the moment when I spilled the beans to Calvin. But when we arrived at the Palmers’ place, Calvin wasn’t there. Mrs. Palmer told us that he’d gone out earlier that morning to play hockey with his dad.
“I’ll bet you’re glad to have your dog back,” Mrs. Palmer said as Osito leaped into my arms. I felt a stab of sadness somewhere near my heart, since I was just about to say good-bye to him—possibly forever.
I thanked Mrs. Palmer, patted Pancake, and left with Tali.
When the elevator doors closed, I turned to my sister. “Calvin wasn’t there! Now when am I going to tell him?” I cried.
“You can call him tonight. Or meet him in the park tomorrow.”
I looked down at Osito. “I can’t imagine going there without Osito,” I said. “I can’t believe he’s probably moving to Maryland today!”
“It’s just until Mrs. Ramirez gets better, Ana. Don’t borrow trouble.”
I shook my head. “Mrs. R hasn’t been doing so well. Even before her last fall, it was taking her about twenty minutes to make it up the stairs. I’m not sure how much longer she can go on living on the fifth floor in a building with no elevator—even without Osito take care of. Her daughter may want Mrs. R to come live with her, too.”
“That’s so sad. I didn’t know things had gotten so bad for Mrs. R.” Tali had tears in her eyes.
“Oh, Tali—I didn’t mean to make you cry. I just meant it wasn’t only Osito I was worried about.”
Tali and I got back to our building and climbed the steps to the fifth floor. I used the key and let us in and took Osito off his leash so he could run across the living room. I hit the switch for the overhead light, since Mrs. Ramirez had left her curtains pulled shut.
“Ana, is it always like this?” Tali asked.
I looked around. When I’d been there last, I’d been so panicked looking for Osito that I hadn’t noticed, but the apartment was really a mess. There were several empty Styrofoam co
ntainers from the deli, and a bunch of empty Canada Dry cans. Mrs. R seemed to have been eating in the living room and not really cleaning up after herself.
It was worse in the kitchen. The sink was full of dirty dishes, as was the countertop. I saw a roach scurry across the counter so I picked up my shoe and whacked it.
“It’s not usually like this,” I said in answer to Tali’s question.
“She must not have been feeling well enough to look after things.”
“We need to clean up in here,” I said. I gave my backpack one last look—I’d brought along my computer and notebooks to work on my project. But I knew I couldn’t leave Mrs. R’s place like this, whether she ended up coming back to it or not.
“Are you sure? I know you have a lot of work to do for your coding project,” Tali said. “I could clean …”
“I’m not going to just sit there while I let you deal with this,” I told her, shaking my head resolutely. “Besides, this isn’t a one-person job. It’s not even a two-person one,” I added, pulling out my phone. “I’ll text Phoebe.”
“Maybe Mrs. R’s daughter should see this, though, Ana?” Tali said. “I mean, she needs to know what’s been going on.”
“Mrs. R says her daughter works two jobs, and she has three little kids. And Mrs. R told me that one of them has special needs and takes a lot of Rosa’s attention. How about if we take a couple of pictures, and if it seems like we need to convince Rosa that her mom needs more help, we can show them to her. But for now let’s try to fix this.” I waved a hand around to indicate the terrible mess in the kitchen.
“Okay, where do we start?”
I knelt down on the sticky floor and opened the cabinet below the sink to check for cleaning supplies. I rattled a bottle of cleaning spray. “There’s a half bottle of this, and it’s got bleach in it. But I don’t see anything for the floor. Maybe run downstairs and grab our Swiffer and some wet pads?” I told Tali.
“On it.” Tali nodded, and was gone.
I looked over at Osito. “I’m sorry I let you guys down,” I told him. “I was too busy wrapped in my own stupid stuff.”
I felt beyond foolish to have been so worried about the accidental lie I’d told to Calvin about Osito. While I’d been worrying about myself … my feelings, Mrs. R had really been struggling. And I hadn’t even noticed.
I stood up and started in on the dishes in the sink. I had to fill some of the cups and bowls with water and soap so they could soak. The rest I washed and dried and started to put away.
I heard a knock at the door, walked over, and opened it to find Phoebe, holding a bucket. “My mom said we might need supplies,” she told me, and I gave her a big hug.
“Wow, I guess you really did need those supplies,” she said. “Are you okay?”
“I’ve been an idiot,” I told her. “But I’ll work on fixing that later. For now, thank you for helping me!”
I showed her around some of the problems we’d already found. “The bathroom needs some TLC, too,” Phoebe observed.
“I’ll take that,” I said. “We all share that duty at home, so no biggie.”
Tali came back just then with our Swiffer and some gloves. I put on a pair, and used the scrubbing cleanser that Phoebe had brought to start in on the bathroom.
Phoebe took over for me in the kitchen, and Tali walked around with a trash bag picking up containers and cans. Then she started dusting in the living room. When I finished the bathroom, I decided that we should do Mrs. R’s laundry, too, since she probably hadn’t done that in a while. I pulled the sheets off her bed, grabbed some towels that had been out in the bathroom, and opened the door to head down to the laundry room.
I heard a shriek as a little girl standing in the hallway spotted me. I realized it was one of Mrs. Ramirez’s grandchildren. Rosa was standing behind her.
“Oh, Ana, right?” Rosa said. “Hi—what’s up with the laundry?”
I stood aside so that Rosa and the kids—two girls and a boy—could walk in.
“We were just cleaning up a little bit,” I explained. “We didn’t want to leave it like it was …”
Rosa’s eyes filled with tears and she gave a sad smile. “I was worried how my mom was getting on. But every time I’d call she’d just tell me she was fine, and I have so much at home …” She started crying, and so I put down the laundry basket and gave her a hug.
“You live far away,” I told her. “How could you have known? I’m just sorry I wasn’t helping more. But I promise I will from now on. I mean, if she needs it.” If she still lives here.
“You have been helping her, Ana! You’re the one who walks Osito!”
At the sound of his name, Osito came trotting over. He wagged his tail and sniffed Rosa’s sneakers, then hurried over to sniff the little kids’ shoes. They giggled.
“The Osito part was selfish,” I admitted. “I really love that dog.”
“Well, you still helped her. And here you all are on a Saturday, cleaning, when I’m sure you have better things to do.”
Tali and Phoebe had heard us talking and come out to the living room, both still wearing gloves and holding sponges.
“This is my sister, Tali, and my best friend, Phoebe,” I said.
“Thank you both so much for helping out my mother this way,” Rosa said.
“I’m glad we could help,” Tali said. “Did you get to the hospital? How is Mrs. Ramirez doing?”
“We just came from there,” Rosa said, nodding. “She’s being released tomorrow, but I don’t think she can stay here with those stairs.”
I nodded, my stomach sinking, and I glanced down at Osito, who was playing with one of his chew toys.
Just then, Rosa’s son, who didn’t seem to speak, sat down on the floor and made a sound of distress. Rosa went over to calm him down. I looked at the two little girls and waved. They smiled shyly back at me.
Rosa straightened up and looked over at me. “Hey, Ana, I don’t suppose you’d be willing to keep Osito a while longer, would you?”
My face fell. This was exactly what I wanted, except I couldn’t say yes.
“Actually, my parents said I couldn’t keep him in our apartment,” I explained. “So he’s been staying with one of my friends from school. I’ve seen him every day … but I didn’t tell your mom. I didn’t want to worry her …”
Rosa waved a hand. “Of course not, I’m glad you didn’t tell her. And don’t worry about keeping him longer—I shouldn’t have asked. It’s all just a little overwhelming right now with everything going on with Mom. Listen, we’re staying with a friend of mine tonight, and heading back home tomorrow. I’m planning to bring Mom back to Maryland with me. But let me just take the kids over to my friend’s place and I’ll come right back and help you get this place straightened out.”
“No, Rosa—we can get everything done here.”
“Yes, we’re nearly done,” Tali told her.
“Are you sure?”
“Totally,” I said. “I’ve got all of Osito’s things together—I’ll just get them for you.” I swallowed past the lump in my throat as I realized that the moment was actually here. I was about to say good-bye to Osito.
Oh, if only Mom would reconsider. He could stay with us until Mrs. Ramirez got back on her feet. But Mom had made it very clear this past week that would never happen.
“Can I just take a second and say good-bye to him?” I asked Rosa, and she nodded.
I sat down on the floor and pulled Osito into my lap. “Hey, little guy. You’re going to go on a trip. And I might not see you. But I sure will miss you. You be a good boy, okay?” I was crying now, because he was giving me those don’t leave me eyes again. But there was nothing I could do. I dried my tears, picked him up, and handed him to Rosa.
“Thank you again for everything, Ana.”
“It was nothing,” I whispered.
When they were gone, I sat down on Mrs. R’s sofa, and Phoebe and Tali sat down, one on either side of me.
&n
bsp; “I’m sorry, sis,” Tali said. “I know how much you love Osito.”
“I can’t believe how rigid your mom is being,” Phoebe added. “It would have been better for everybody if he could have just stayed with you.”
“Not helping, Phoebe,” Tali told her in a stern voice.
“Sorry! I call it like I see it.”
“We know,” Tali and I said in unison.
“I just hate seeing you upset, A,” Phoebe said.
“I deserve it. I’ve messed everything up. I haven’t been following the order of operations.”
“You mean like in math? How you do the thing with the parentheses first?” Phoebe asked.
“No—I mean, yes—but I meant the order of operations of, like, life. Mrs. R needed a lot more help than I was giving her.”
“You didn’t know,” Tali said soothingly. “Now that you do, you are helping her.”
“I should have paid better attention. But I’m going to, from now on.” I stood up. “Okay, what’s left to do?”
I took the laundry downstairs, and Phoebe and Tali took out the garbage. Finally, the place was as clean as we could make it.
I turned off the lights and was the last one out so I could lock the door. I spotted one of Osito’s toys that I’d missed when I packed up his stuff, and I said a silent prayer that he would be happy in Maryland.
And then, I couldn’t help it, I added a selfish thought—that I might see him again soon.
“Hey, it’s Calvin! Leave a message if you want.”
I panicked and hit the button to hang up. It was Sunday morning. I’d waited until after we got home from church to try calling Calvin.
Usually, I would send a text message, but Calvin wasn’t always the fastest at texting back. But the one time I’d called him, he’d answered right away.
I decided to call back and leave a voice mail—but I also decided that I should plan out what to say. I opened up one of my spiral notebooks and wrote it out:
I took a deep breath, called again, and read the message I’d written down. He might wonder what was wrong with me, since I sounded a lot like a robot when I said it, but at least I’d gotten it all out.