The Dream Weaver

by Reina Luz Alegre

  “Yeah?”

  Tyler turned to face Zoey, his face as solemn as Patrick’s. “I’m going to need you to bowl like your life depends on it.”

  Zoey clutched her Earth Ball tighter. “Yeah, I know how hard you guys have been practicing, and I’ll definitely do my best.”

  “Your best?” Tyler mocked, tapping his foot petulantly. “Sorry, but I’m going to need more than your best. I’m going to need you to sign this contract, agreeing to cut off your own right arm in the event you fail to win us the Summer Big Bowl Championship.”

  It took a moment for Zoey to realize he was kidding. She burst out laughing, and Tyler joined in.

  “Don’t let Patrick psych you out,” Tyler said, choosing a sleek black ball from the rack in front of them. “And, I mean, bowling’s great and everything, but duuude, it’s just a game.”

  “I’m scared of messing up,” Zoey confessed.

  “Don’t worry about it. I lost us the championship last summer,” Tyler whispered. “It only took six months for Patrick to talk to me again.”

  Zoey froze. “Seriously?”

  “Kidding!” Tyler reassured her. “It was more like six minutes. He just had to scrape himself off the floor after fainting.”

  “Haha,” said Zoey.

  “Fine, he didn’t really faint. But I did really lose us the tournament.”

  “What happened?” Zoey asked, wondering if she truly wanted to know, or whether the story would just make her more nervous.

  “I don’t know. I think Isa might, with all her math formulas,” Tyler said honestly. “But all I know is I tried my hardest. I thought I was about to get a strike, but I only got nine pins. The other team bowled a strike. Eric got the strike, actually. I think that’s why Patrick acted like such an idiot in front of him yesterday.”

  “Oh,” Zoey said. “That’s it?”

  “Yup,” said Tyler, so good-naturedly that Zoey couldn’t help feeling better. “And Patrick survived. Plus, everyone knows you’re new. Even Patrick. Even if he’s all cranky and acting like you owe him your soul and future unborn children. So don’t worry. Seriously, everything is going to be okay. We’re all just grateful you agreed to fill in.”

  Zoey was so touched it took her a while to find the right words. “Thanks. Thanks for the pep talk.”

  “Any time,” said Tyler, with a friendly wink.

  From the corner of her eye, Zoey spotted Lacey hovering a few steps to their right, chewing the inside of her cheek and watching Zoey and Tyler talk. Remembering Lacey’s crush, Zoey subtly stepped back so Lacey would have room to step up and join the chat.

  “But, you know, I’m going to need a lot more than pep talks. I need more tips from the pros. Lacey, you’re so good at getting spares. What’s your secret? I feel like I lose momentum after my first roll.”

  Nervously twisting her hair tie around her wrist, Lacey launched into an explanation of her strategy that seemed to impress even Tyler. Something about the arrows and scuff marks on the floor of the lane. Zoey only partially understood, but she could tell Lacey and Tyler were getting along better than they had all week and that made her happy.

  The team practiced for a solid three hours. Soon Zoey’s head spun with bowling advice—from Isa’s geometry to Patrick’s superstitions. But it was Lacey’s tips that seemed to become less logical the longer they practiced.

  “Remember to match your accessories to your bowling ball on game day,” she advised Zoey sagely.

  Isa laughed. Patrick groaned, and Tyler rolled his eyes.

  “Hey! Don’t knock it till you’ve tried it,” Lacey said defensively, adjusting the purple bangles stacked on her left wrist, which paired nicely with her lavender bowling ball. “When I wear a power outfit, I feel more confident. And when I feel confident, I bowl better.”

  Zoey glanced up at the screen. “Lacey’s score is three points higher than yours today, Ty. Maybe we should get you a few red bracelets,” she teased. Tyler had switched halfway through practice to a heavier red ball. His cheeks pinked, but to Zoey’s surprise, he took her suggestion seriously.

  “I guess it can’t hurt to try,” he mumbled.

  “I’m so glad to hear you say that,” Lacey said, whipping a few burgundy bands from her monogrammed canvas tote. She handed them to Tyler, who eyed the bracelets skeptically at first, then shrugged and slipped them on.

  “You brought a bunch of jewelry to a bowling alley?” he asked.

  “I prefer to think of it as I came prepared to practice.” Lacey smiled. Tyler smiled back, amused. No one noticed Zoey smiling the biggest of all, watching them.

  * * *

  The team played for another three hours before Zoey spotted Toni-Ann heading briskly to the exit. Zoey hadn’t even realized she was there.

  “I’ll be right back,” Zoey told Patrick, and ran after Toni-Ann.

  “Toni-Ann! Hi! Did you come to see José? He’s at the dentist, but he’ll be back soon. Maybe you could talk to Poppy now?”

  Toni-Ann frowned. “I just talked to him. Sorry, Zoey. Your Poppy said he doesn’t want the Triple Threat Chicken Café to supply food to the arcade.”

  “What? Why?”

  “He didn’t say why. Only that he appreciated the offer, but it wasn’t necessary because the arcade has its own kitchen on site.”

  “But that doesn’t make any sense!” Zoey exclaimed, swallowing down the lump that had suddenly formed at the back of her throat. “What is Poppy thinking? Everything in that kitchen is broken. We can’t use it to cook lunch for customers.”

  Toni-Ann gave Zoey a sympathetic smile. “I don’t know. And I’m sorry it didn’t work out. I know you were really hoping for a partnership. But I gotta run. My shift starts in ten minutes. Let José know I stopped by, okay?”

  Zoey nodded, frustrated, and watched Toni-Ann walk out the door with yet another of Zoey’s plans for saving Gonzo’s that Poppy had rejected.

  What was wrong with her grandfather?

  Angry, Zoey ran to the broom closet he used as an office at the back of the bowling alley.

  “Poppy! We have to talk!”

  Poppy sat at his desk and glanced up from the computer at Zoey. His reading glasses slid down his nose.

  “¿Qué pasa mija?”

  “I think you’re making a big mistake saying no to Toni-Ann. We might be able to get a lot more customers if we offer them lunch, and the Triple Threat Chicken Café’s sandwiches are legendary on the boardwalk.”

  Poppy sighed heavily.

  “I had a feeling you sent her to talk to me.” He shook his head sadly and went back to typing. “I thought we talk about this the other night when you try to clean the lanes with hand soap, eh? I want you to relax, my little jefa, to enjoy being a kid. But you are so much like your mami. Always wanting to help.”

  “Then let me help!” Zoey said.

  “Zoey, we cannot just change everything now. Don’t you remember how Abuela used to make the menu every week? The restaurant side of the business was her dream, and she cooked food so delicious. We were the only bowling alley in Jersey that sell frijoles negros and plátanitos fritos.” His eyes warmed with the memory, then misted. He took off his glasses and wiped them on his shirt hem.

  “I always hope your mami would move back and take over the café,” Poppy said. “And then one summer when you visited, I can tell she seriously consider the offer for the first time. Your father just had something else fall through and she needed the work. But she want to bring new foods here, from culinary school and being on the road. She no respect the past and Abuela’s vision.” He glanced down at a framed picture on his desk of Abuela and a nine-year-old Mami. Zoey’s mom and grandma wore matching chef hats in the fading photo, and beamed at the camera. A huge tray of picadillo and green olives they must have cooked together sat in front of them.

  “You don’t know how lucky you and José are to be born here and to grow up speaking the language. All you need to do to succeed is work hard. You can
grow up to do whatever you want,” he said, digressing.

  “I know we’re lucky. And I’m sorry Mami didn’t want to cook with Abuela, but what does any of that have to do with partnering with Toni-Ann?” Zoey asked, growing impatient.

  But it was as if Poppy hadn’t heard Zoey. He continued, “It broke my heart when your mami, she leave me and your abuela all alone here with the business we built our whole life for her. Sometimes I wonder what is the point to all this. Why fight for something that’s already been lost?” He stared sadly down at his computer.

  Zoey’s anger faded like the old photo on Poppy’s desk. She’d always thought the past few years were hard for her and José, moving all over the country with Dad after Mami died. But now, for the first time, Zoey wondered what Poppy’s days had been like, alone in the home and the business he’d once shared with his wife and daughter. Suddenly, Zoey felt like bursting into tears. She wanted to crawl into Poppy’s lap like a little kid and let them both dissolve into gray mist. But that would be wallowing. And her mami and abuela weren’t wallowers. They had been dream weavers—the kind of people who overcame challenges and worked hard so they could stitch together the life they wanted to live. They wouldn’t have let Poppy or Zoey get swept away by sadness.

  “Mami was a happy person,” Zoey said gently. “Like, I know you don’t think so, but she was really happy with Dad, and she liked moving all the time. She’d make moving into an adventure. Even José liked moving around when she was alive. We moved less then, too. Only once a year or every two years, and always in the summer so that we would have already finished school. She made us feel like we were special because we got to see new places. She’d tell us, ‘Everyone else is staying in their boring suburbs, but the Finolios are off to see the world!’ ”

  “Yeah?” Poppy asked, sounding doubtful.

  “Yeah,” repeated Zoey, but more firmly. “And she’d take us on field trips and teach us about the places we lived. Like, we went to the Grand Canyon when we moved to Arizona, then to Mount Rushmore when we moved to South Dakota. We sat in a ton of live studio audiences for TV screenings in LA the year Dad’s dream was to be an actor, and he was an extra in a bunch of sitcoms. It was super cool! And Mami and Dad never fought. Not like other kids’ parents. They were so in love. Dad used to make breakfast for Mami every morning. Scrambled eggs and a caramel cappuccino from this fancy espresso machine that moved to every new place with us. She used to say she’d start her day anywhere if she could start it with a cup of his coffee. That they should open a coffee shop. But he never wanted to. He said his coffee was just for her, and she’d smile and kiss him and tell him he was a romantic. It was actually a little gross.” Zoey wrinkled her nose, remembering her parents’ constant PDA.

  Poppy glanced up in surprise.

  “I guess I never saw that side of their relationship,” he said slowly. “I just thought Michael was keeping Jasmeen away from her home and her parents and our family business, running away whenever life got hard. But if your mami was really happy…” He trailed off, looking at Zoey questioningly.

  “I think she was,” Zoey whispered, meaning it and wishing Mami was still alive to back her up. “And, Poppy, she didn’t forget you. She told us stories about growing up with you and Abuela. And sometimes she even put Cuban twists on the food when she made us dinner at home.”

  Poppy tossed his glasses on his desk and put his hands up to his eyes, covering them. His shoulders shook and Zoey realized that he was crying. Swallowing hard she bravely continued, “I think she built her dream on top of yours, like a house on a foundation or the sequel to a novel. She didn’t want to just relive your story with Abuela, but to write new chapters with all of us.”

  It was quiet for a long time, but when Poppy finally looked at her his eyes were shiny and looked smaller without the glasses’ magnifying effect. They reminded Zoey of the beads on a big eighties necklace she’d found in Mami’s dresser—dark brown sequins that had dulled over the years.

  “Thank you for sharing this with me. And I’m sorry, mija. For the terrible thing I say to your dad before he leave. I know he not responsible for your mami dying. The doctors said she had an undetected birth defect. I raised her, and even I didn’t know,” Poppy said heavily. He shook his head. “Anyway, I’m going to try to get along better with Michael. For you and José. And for Jasmeen. I know she always wish I could be more accepting. And if you say she was happy with your dad, then that’s all that matters.”

  Poppy paused to wipe at the corners of his eyes with his hand. “I just wish I could talk to your mami one more time,” he confided.

  “Me too,” Zoey said in a small voice. “But sometimes I think I know what she would say even though she isn’t here to say it herself.”

  “Oh yeah?”

  “Yeah. I think Mami would say maybe you’re the one running away now, Poppy,” Zoey said slowly. Her thoughts were a jumble, but a couple kept rising to the top of the pile: How Isa had been right about Zoey needing to work things out with Lacey instead of leaving the sleepover early. How the Curve Breakers refused to quit even when their captain and most dedicated member was hurt.

  “It’s like you’re running away while standing still. You’re giving up on your dream by not letting me or Toni-Ann or anyone else help you try to save the bowling alley. Okay, you’re not moving to another state like Dad the second a job doesn’t work out, but you’re also not fighting for what you want. I bet Mami and Abuela would have wanted you to fight for Gonzo’s. Shouldn’t you take your own advice that you gave Dad and really commit to your one big dream?”

  Poppy’s eyes widened in surprise. He gazed tenderly down at Zoey.

  “Ay, my sweet granddaughter, you are so smart. Just like your mami. And you’re right. Of course, you’re right. The worst task es la que no se hace, eh? The one you don’t do,” he said. Zoey smiled—that had been another one of Mami’s favorite sayings.

  “I should go talk to Toni-Ann and see if she still wants to sell those amazing chicken avocado sandwiches here,” Poppy said, standing and closing his laptop with a decisive click.

  Zoey held her breath. Had she actually gotten through to Poppy? She watched him hopefully, not daring to speak.

  “Thank you, mija,” he called over his shoulder as he walked out.

  Zoey felt more inspired than she had in a long time. And then another idea popped into her head as she rejoined her teammates, still practicing under Patrick’s determined watch.

  “Hey, guys, what if we hold the Summer Big Bowl Championship here at Gonzo’s? Poppy could sure use the business.”

  No one answered at first. Everyone looked over at Patrick, who pensively bent down to pull the championship rules up on his phone.

  “We’re not in charge of the location. All the teams have to agree on one, according to Mr. Martin’s Summer League rules, and we already did,” he said finally, sounding sorry. “Oh man. I almost forgot. It’s going to be at that place where Eric and his team practice.”

  “Oh,” Zoey said.

  “But maybe we could try to convince the other teams to agree to a change in venue?” asked Isa hopefully. “Like if Gonzo’s can sweeten the deal somehow? Maybe offer a bigger discount on the entrance fee?”

  “Yeah?” Zoey turned back to Patrick. “We could definitely offer a bigger discount.”

  “Maybe if we gave this place a makeover, like, super fast,” Lacey said, eyeing the peeling paint and scuffed lanes.

  “Definitely! We could clean Gonzo’s up and finish fixing everything and advertise the championship as Gonzo’s Grand Comeback! We could make this a really big event! Oh my gosh, this could actually maybe save my grandfather’s bowling alley,” Zoey said, half talking to herself, half trying to convince the group.

  “I’m in! Let’s do it. Let’s try to convince the other teams!” Isa said, smiling. “I mean, Zoey’s helping us out at the last minute. She’s doing us a huge favor by filling in. We can try to help Gonzo’s. And, for real
, all our best practices have been here.”

  “I’m in too,” Tyler said.

  “Okay, I’ll start calling the other team captains after practice today,” Patrick agreed.

  “I’ll help,” Lacey offered.

  Zoey’s insides dissolved into a puddle of rainbows and heart emojis and friendship bracelets. The next few days were going to be capital-B Busy, and she couldn’t wait.

  10

  Patrick and Lacey talked to everyone they knew—building up buzz for Gonzo’s Grand Comeback and trying to persuade the other teams to move the Summer Big Bowl Championship. Within two days, they got the green light. A few of the other bowlers’ parents even fondly remembered bowling at Gonzo’s when they were kids themselves. They hadn’t realized Gonzo’s was still around. Poppy gave his blessing as well, and the gang got to work on the old building’s makeover.

  No one had better redecorating ideas or access to cooler stuff than Lacey. A few months earlier her parents had hosted an outer-space-themed gala for the PTA, and there were laser lights, silvery moon decals, gold tablecloths, and more supplies just sitting in her basement, waiting to be put to use again. With Poppy’s permission, Zoey and her friends painted the walls of the arcade an ombre black that faded to gray, then pinned twinkling holiday lights from the ceiling when the paint dried. The effect was an ethereal, almost magical glow. Patrick and Tyler helped José finish fixing most of the game machines. The motorcycle game, though, stubbornly refused all medical attention.

  José was working on it a few days later when he called out, “Zo! Come here! Maybe you can get this screw out. Your hands are smaller than ours. It’s stuck.”

  Zoey ran over to the machine where Patrick, Tyler, and José sat frowning. The motorcycle you were supposed to sit on while virtually racing in the video game reminded her of Dad. He still hadn’t called or responded to any of her texts or voice mails. She’d lost track of how many she’d left him. Trying not to think about it, Zoey sat down to help José.