Don't Call Me Hero

by Ray Villareal

  “Mom, I don’t know if I want to be on TV,” he said.

  “Why not?”

  Rawly wet his lips. “Because . . . what if I mess up? What if I say the wrong things? It’ll be so embarrassing.”

  “You’ll do fine,” his mother said. “Anyway, I don’t know why you would be nervous. You were on the news last night.”

  “Yeah, but that was different,” Rawly said. “I started talking to the reporter before I had a chance to think about what I wanted to say.”

  Rawly’s mother opened an email from the Dallas Tortilla Factory and skimmed its message. “I wouldn’t worry about it. Just tell the reporters your story, the way you told it to me. The way you told it yesterday.”

  She clicked off the Internet and gave Rawly her full attention. “I also got a call from a man who said he was a representative of the Demetrius family. He told me that as soon as Nikki Demetrius is feeling better, she wants meet you.”

  Rawly’s anxiety eased for a moment. Miyoko wanted to go with him to see Nikki Demetrius. This would be the perfect opportunity.

  “But I still haven’t told you the best news.” Mrs. Sánchez wrapped an arm around Rawly’s waist and drew him close. “Tomorrow morning, the TV cameras for ABC Good Day America will be here. You’re going to take part in a live teleconference interview. I told them it would be okay since you don’t have school tomorrow. Then after that, you’ll be appearing on the Today show. They’ll get here after the ABC people leave. And after that . . . ”

  Rawly’s eyebrows shot up. “Whoa, Mom. What?”

  “That’s right. You’re going to be on national TV tomorrow. Isn’t that exciting?”

  Rawly didn’t think it was exciting at all.

  The day after the Cinco de Mayo program, Mr. Dibbles invited the participants to watch the video of their performance. The kids giggled when Rawly was shown on the screen, standing like a zombie, ringing the church bell. They howled with laughter when the façade fell on top of him.

  It was one thing to be interviewed on the local news, but what would it be like knowing that the whole country was watching him? Rawly could picture himself staring at the camera with that same living-dead look in his eyes, while the hosts of those morning shows fired questions at him about the accident.

  “Why didn’t you ask me first before volunteering me to be on all those news shows?” he asked curtly.

  “I’m sorry, Rawly. It’s just that everything happened so fast. They wanted an answer right away, so I said yes.”

  “But Nevin and I are supposed to go to the fair tomorrow.”

  Friday was Secondary Schools Fair Day in Dallas. Students and teachers had received free tickets to attend the State Fair of Texas, and all middle and high schools would be closed.

  His mother’s warm manner disappeared. “You can go to the fair any time,” she said. “Right now, the interviews are more important. Think of all the attention your television appearances will bring to the restaurant.” She opened the office door. “Go to the kitchen and tell Fredo to fix you a plate. Then as soon as you finish eating, I’ll drive you home so you can change.”

  “Change? For what?”

  “For your interview with Delia Franco.”

  “But you don’t even like the Channel 12 News.”

  “It doesn’t matter. It’ll be free publicity for the restaurant. I’ll call the other news stations and have them come after Channel 12 finishes.” His mother nudged him out the door. “Now go eat. I’m going to look for that banner we used to have hanging outside. I want to put it up where it can be seen when the cameras are on you.”

  Shortly before seven o’clock, the Channel 12 News truck pulled up in front of the restaurant. Rawly’s mother met Delia Franco and a cameraman at the door. The reporter apologized once again for the pig story. She had already told Rawly’s mother over the phone how sorry she was. “Please understand that it was an assignment, Mrs. Sánchez. I have to do what my boss says.”

  Rawly’s mother took them to the room that used to be the bar. Behind the counter hung a red vinyl banner with the words LA CHICHEN-ITZA MEXICAN RESTAURANT in yellow letters.

  Rawly came in and greeted the guests.

  While the cameraman set up his equipment, Delia Franco and Rawly sat down on barstools and waited. Rawly’s mother stood behind the cameraman to make sure the banner could be seen clearly.

  Rawly fidgeted in his chair. He crossed and uncrossed his legs. He tugged at the tie his mother had made him wear.

  He recalled what Ms. Coleman had told the participants on Open Mic Nite. “The audience came to see a good show. Let’s give them one. Remember, they’re all rooting for you. If you mess up, don’t stop. Just keep going.”

  But he hadn’t kept going at Open Mic Nite. After he fell on top of Miyoko, he ran out of the auditorium like a coward.

  A steenkin’ coward.

  God, please don’t let me mess up, Rawly prayed in his mind.

  Delia Franco started with simple questions. She wanted to know how Rawly liked school. He said he liked it fine, except for algebra. She asked if he had any hobbies. He told her about his comic book collection. Rawly hoped he didn’t come off sounding like a geek.

  She asked about his family. Without elaborating, Rawly told her he had an older brother who lived out of town.

  From time to time, curious customers stole peeks in the bar, but Rawly’s mother shooed them away.

  When the interview was over, Delia Franco shook Rawly’s hand. She told him he had done a terrific job, and that a clip of the interview would air during the ten o’clock broadcast.

  Rawly rose from his barstool on wobbly legs. His armpits were leaking sweat. His heart was racing. He took a couple of deep breaths to steady himself. He didn’t care if he had done a terrific job. He just hoped he didn’t look like a complete idiot on TV.

  The other local news stations arrived later, at staggered times. By the third interview, Rawly, much more relaxed, comfortably related his story.

  After work, Rawly and his mother stopped by a 7-Eleven to buy extra newspapers. When they got home, Rawly cut out his article and thumb-tacked it to the cork bulletin board above the desk in his bedroom. He stared at his superhero figurines that stood on his dresser. Superman was there. So were Batman, Daredevil, the Flash, Green Arrow, Spider-Man and Wolverine. His eyes darted from his newspaper photo, then back to his toys.

  “You guys and I have something in common,” Rawly said aloud and smiled.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Rawly told his story on ABC Good Day America and the Today show. He repeated it in Spanish to a reporter from Telemundo. It was back to speaking in English when he appeared on CNN.

  The night before, he watched his interviews on the local news. He studied his facial expressions and body language. He noticed he blinked a lot. Several times he chewed his nails. During his first interview, he hunched over on his barstool like an old man. His mother stood in front of him and bounced her hands, palms up, urging him to straighten. He thought she was telling him to speak louder, so he did.

  Rawly fixed those mistakes when he appeared on national TV. He still didn’t like speaking in front of the cameras, but he would have to get used to it.

  After all, he was a hero.

  The tabloid and entertainment news programs had been running stories about Nikki Demetrius’s accident. They aired pictures of Rawly, which had been taken at his school, as well as the clip of him rescuing the fashion model.

  On Saturday morning, algebra tutoring went especially well. Many of the terms that had escaped Rawly’s understanding—integers, monomials, binomials, polynomials—were finally starting to make sense.

  Mr. Mondragón told the class that he had seen Rawly on the news. He asked if anyone else had seen him, but no one answered. Rawly figured that most of the flunkies who were in tutoring with him didn’t spend a lot of time watching the news.

  Class ended a half hour early. Mr. Mondragón, wearing a burnt orange Univer
sity of Texas sweatshirt, announced to the class that he had tickets to the Texas/OU football game, and he didn’t want to be late to it.

  Rawly considered dropping by Nevin’s house. He wanted to tell him about his interviews, but it probably wasn’t a good time. It was Miriam’s wedding day. Rawly figured things at Nevin’s house were pretty hectic. They didn’t need him getting in the way. Besides, Rawly thought Nevin might be sore at him because he hadn’t been able to go to the fair with him on Friday. Rawly had told Nevin to find some other guys to go with, but Nevin ignored the suggestion.

  “Rawly!” Miyoko ran down the school steps. “Have you heard from Nikki Demetrius yet?”

  “Sort of,” Rawly said. “A representative from her family called to say that Nikki wants to meet me as soon as she’s better.”

  “Really?” Miyoko squealed. “You will take me to see her, won’t you?”

  Rawly’s face lit up. “Sure.”

  “By the way, you looked great on TV.”

  Rawly grinned. “You saw me? Why didn’t you tell Mr. Mondragón?”

  Miyoko tossed back her long hair and turned up her nose. “I don’t say anything to that stupid man if I don’t have to.”

  Miyoko’s words stung him. Rawly didn’t particularly care for Mr. Mondragón, but he never thought of him as being stupid. Even if he did, he would never say it aloud. It was disrespectful to call a teacher that.

  “Yesterday morning, I was blow-drying my hair, when my mom burst into my bathroom and started screaming at me like the crazy woman she is,” Miyoko said. “I thought she was chewing me out for something, but she was talking about you being on the Today show.” Miyoko let out a tiny snicker. “I guess she remembered you from Open Mic Nite.”

  Rawly’s face turned red. “Listen, I’m real sorry about . . . ”

  Miyoko put up a hand to cut him off. “Anyway, she grabbed me by my wrist and dragged me to the den. And there you were, on TV, telling the world about how you saved Nikki Demetrius.”

  “That was just one interview,” Rawly said. “I’ve done a lot of others.”

  Miyoko glanced at her watch. Then she looked down the street. “Are you going anywhere right now?” she asked.

  “Home, I guess,” Rawly said with a shrug.

  “Can I . . . I mean . . . want to go get a Coke or something?” Miyoko flashed a dimpled smile. “My treat.”

  Rawly felt a rush of heat shoot up to his face. He understood what she had said, but his brain was having difficulty fitting her message into the right slot. It occurred to him then why she was making the offer. “You don’t have to do that, Miyoko,” he said, hardly believing the words that were coming out of his mouth. Still, he didn’t want Miyoko to feel obligated to pay him back for taking her to see Nikki Demetrius.

  “But I want to,” Miyoko said sweetly. “Unless . . . if you have something else to do, I understand.”

  “No, that would be great!” Rawly said. “We can go to the Jack in the Box across the street. But let me buy.”

  Miyoko ordered a Diet Coke. Rawly had a strawberry milkshake and an order of fries. He offered her some of his fries, but she declined.

  “Too fattening,” she said.

  Miyoko brought up Nikki Demetrius’s name again and the possibility of meeting her idol.

  “And I’d like to bring Iris and Amanda, if that’s okay. Oh, and I told Melissa and Skye about it, and they want to come, too. But you know, if I invite them, I’ll also have to invite Renata and Tracy and Belle. They’ll be mad at me if I don’t.”

  Rawly gulped. “Miyoko, I don’t think I can invite that many people.”

  “Sure you can. I mean, you saved Nikki’s life. She’ll do anything for you.”

  “I’ll see what I can do,” Rawly said. “But I can’t promise anything.” He had no intention of inviting all those girls, but he didn’t tell Miyoko that. His dream had finally come true. Here he was at Jack in the Box, having a snack with Miyoko Elena. It was like a date.

  “Teen Vogue had a story about Nikki Demetrius in last month’s issue,” Miyoko said. “You know, she models clothes for all the top fashion designers—Marc Jacobs, Vera Wang, Michael Kors, all of them.”

  Rawly didn’t know who those people were, but he nodded as if he understood.

  “I once entered this model search contest in Teen Tropic, where the winner got a thousand dollars, plus a trip to Hawaii and a chance to appear as a model for a Teen Tropic ad campaign,” Miyoko said. “I never heard from them, though.” She stuck out her lower lip and faked sadness. “My mom doesn’t want me to pursue a modeling career because of all the skimpy clothes the girls have to wear. She’s so wack. She makes me take back half the clothes I buy. For example, I bought this cute top at Forever 21 to wear to the Jeremy Trio concert, but my mom wouldn’t let me wear it because she thought it was too revealing. Do you listen to the Jeremy Trio? They’re awesome. I have all their CDs. I think Zac’s the cutest of the three, but my friend Skye thinks Doug’s cuter.”

  Rawly tried to follow Miyoko, but he didn’t know who or what she was talking about.

  “You know, I can’t prove it, but I swear my mom’s been snooping in my online profile. Like the other day, I wrote that me and Skye and Melissa had skipped school to go see that new movie, Scarlet Dreams. The next day, my mom asked me if I wanted her to take me to see Scarlet Dreams, knowing full well that I’d already seen it. Then she took away my cell phone because I got that failing notice. She thinks she’s punishing me, but really, she’s just punishing herself. I mean, how is she going to reach me if there’s an emergency? Or what if something happens to me? Then she’ll wish she’d never taken away my cell phone.”

  Rawly realized he wasn’t having a conversation with Miyoko. How could he, when she was doing all the talking? He hadn’t even gotten a chance to tell her about his interviews. He sipped his milkshake and listened in silence.

  “Anyway, I know nothing bad’s going to happen to me because I read my horoscope every day. I’m a Sagittarius, you know. Anyway, this morning it said that my life would soon take an upward swing.” Her eyes widened.

  “Hey, maybe that means . . . ” Miyoko stopped when she saw her mother’s car pull up in front of the school. “I’ve got to go. Let me know as soon as you hear something from Nikki, okay?”

  “Yeah, I’ll . . . ” Rawly started, but Miyoko dashed off before he could finish.

  He caught the bus home. He wondered if any reporters would be waiting for him. No one was there when he arrived. He checked the time. His mother would be finishing up her visit with Jaime.

  Rawly wished he had been able to go to the prison so he could tell Jaime his story in person. He knew Jaime would be so proud of him. Rawly would write and tell him about it. He would also send him a copy of the newspaper article. Jaime couldn’t accept anything from visitors, but he could receive mail once it had been inspected.

  It was a little past noon. Rawly could still make it to Miriam’s wedding if he wanted. The synagogue Nevin’s family attended wasn’t too far. He could take a quick shower, get dressed, catch the bus, and still get there in plenty of time. The wedding wouldn’t start until two o’clock.

  He decided against it. He wanted to be home in case someone called to interview him. Anyway, he didn’t want to sit through a boring wedding. The only reason Nevin had invited him to go was to keep him company. Rawly was growing tired of feeling like Nevin’s sidekick—like Tonto to the Lone Ranger.

  I’m not your sidekick, Nevin. I’m nobody’s sidekick. I’m a hero!

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Sunday afternoon, Mrs. Steinberg dropped Rawly and Nevin off at the State Fair of Texas. There was no rain in the forecast, but the weather was hot and humid, with temperatures expected to reach the high 80s.

  Mrs. Steinberg made Nevin carry an umbrella. “If not for the rain, then for the heat,” she said. “You know how easily you sunburn.”

  The sweltering October air was filled with the enticing scents and sou
nds of the state fair. People of all ages, sizes and shapes strolled through the grounds. Fairgoers carried stuffed toys they’d won; others munched on yearly fair favorites, like Fletcher’s Corny Dogs, Funnel Cakes and Texas Tornado Taters. The Marine band marched in a parade, playing rousing, patriotic music.

  Rawly and Nevin made their way past the reflecting pool between the Centennial Building and the Automobile Building, where they were greeted by the fifty-two feet tall, cowboy statue, Big Tex. In a deep Texas drawl, Big Tex welcomed visitors with a warm, “Howdy, folks!”

  “Want to get something to eat?” Rawly asked.

  “Not yet,” Nevin said. “Let’s get on a few rides first.”

  They purchased fair coupons and headed to the Super Midway.

  Rawly glanced up at the arched sign at the entrance. Not long ago, Midway used to mean a part of the fair filled with rides and games. Now he also knew it as the name of a small town near Houston, which housed the Ferguson State Prison Farm, where Jaime was locked up.

  Rawly and Nevin got on a whirling ride called the Matterhorn. As the ride operator increased the Matterhorn’s speed, and the cars surged forward, he teasingly asked the riders, “Do you want to go faster?”

  “Yeeeah!” the riders answered euphorically.

  Rawly and Nevin raised their arms as the ride zoomed faster and faster on its track. The operator slowed the ride, and then made the cars travel backwards. The wind slapped the riders’ faces and whipped their hair. Rawly was glad he and Nevin had gotten on the Matterhorn first, instead of eating. He’d be puking his guts out by now.

  Next they rode the Bumper Cars. After that, they rode The Orbiter, a five-arm ride with seats at the end of each arm. The riders spun around in their seats, while being lifted up and down.

  When the ride ended, Rawly and Nevin decided to walk off their queasy stomachs.

  Rawly wanted to try his skill at the some of the games—the Hoops Toss, the BB Gun Star Shootout or the Dime Throw—but Nevin discouraged him. He told Rawly that even if he did manage to win a large, plush, Sponge Bob Square Pants or a giant Garfield, he would have to lug it around for the rest of the afternoon. And did he really want one of those stuffed toys?