Chapter 2
Friends
My papa had asked me what I wanted for my birthday. This was something I didn’t have to think about. I wanted a treehouse. Neli and I had always shared a room. You’ve seen how bad she can get. Besides, I needed my privacy. Sometimes I wonder about the world. I’ll be in my room thinking, and then somebody comes in and pops my thoughts.
Papa was building my treehouse on top of Big Oso— the huge tree in our backyard. It was right next to mama’s flower garden. When I would get on the Oso tree, I was able to see all the beautiful flowers in many different colors. My favorites were the red roses and the purple lilacs.
Those were also my mama’s favorites. Every year for the Day of the Dead, Dia De Los Muertos, she would put those flowers on Horacio Fileto’s grave. He had been my mama’s husband before he died. It was hard to think about my mama with another husband other than my papa.
Horacio Fileto had died in a car accident. Mama told me the other driver was drunk and that was why it was bad to drink at all. If she saw papa with a beer, she would snatch it away and throw it. Papa would get angry for a few minutes, but he could never stay upset with mama for long.
Mama told me that when Horacio Fileto had died, her whole world had turned dark. The only lights were my older sister, Anai and brother, Chico. She said her world didn’t become all light again until my papa, Nelly, and I showed up many years later. We brought her happiness.
“You’re my sun in the dark,” mama had said.
My mama always says the nicest things. This was why it had been hard for me to tell her that she couldn’t hug me anymore.
“I’m getting too old,” I had told her. “Having my mama hug me is not mature.”
“Won’t you miss my hugs?”
I thought about it. “A little,” I muttered. But I knew I would miss them a lot. I just didn’t want to tell her.
She explained how I would always be her little girl, even when I turned fifty. She still hugged Anai, and she was already in college. Maybe hugs weren’t only for little children.
I had thought about this all day. I stared out my window.
“Why are you staring outside?” asked Neli. She had just walked into our bedroom.
“I’m thinking.”
“Are you having a brain fart?”
“Brain surge!” She could really make me angry. I started counting to ten.
“Whatever. You think too much. Your brain will stretch itself too much and then break like a rubber band. Then you’ll really have a brain explosion.”
“That’s silly, Neli. Really silly!”
“You just wait and see. I’ll be having to put your brains back in your head, Miranda. But I’ll do it because you’re my sister, and mami said we have to look out for each other.”
I rolled my eyes in a Neli way. I couldn’t help it. “Don’t do me any favors.”
Neli put her hands on her hips. “I can’t believe I’m being treated this way after I came to tell you SpongeBob is about to start.”
“I’m not watching cartoons anymore.”
“Why not?” asked Neli.
“I’ll be a young lady next week.”
“So? Mami watches SpongeBob with us, and she’s a lady.”
“She’s also a parent,” I said.
“So, only parents and children watch cartoons? Now that’s silly,” she retorted as she went to the door. “I’ll be watching cartoons until I want, even when I’m as old as fifteen.” She strutted out the door.
Some people didn’t understand about growing up. Neli was one of them. I couldn’t imagine her as an adult.
One hour later, Neli returned to our bedroom. She had an ugly look on her face.
“Your friend is here—the one who looks like El Chupacabras.”
“What?” I asked
“It’s Bonita— the human Chupacabras.”
“Stop calling her that. She doesn’t look like a monster. Where is she?”
“Outside,” Neli said, nonchalantly.
“Didn’t you invite her in?”
“No,” Neli stated.
“You’re so rude.”
I found Bonita on my porch.
“Hi, Miranda,” she greeted.
“Hi.”
“Kitty is coming over too.”
I told her it would be better to go to my backyard to wait for my cousin Kitty—the artist. I didn’t want to be inside the house with Neli. Once I had found her with her big ear to our room’s door. She didn’t know I had gone to the bathroom, leaving Bonita alone in the bedroom. Neli was always trying to listen to things that were none of her business.
Bonita understood this about my sister. We sat next to the flowers, under Big Oso tree. I could see Neli’s funny face scrunched to the window, trying to see what we were doing. Her nose was almost all flat and her eyes were wide open.
“I think your sister is lonely,” Bonita said. Her green eyes looked at Neli with kindness. I looked at Neli with frustration.
“She’s just nosy,” I stated. We both nodded our heads. Bonita’s straight brown hair bounced. Her mouth smiled like it usually did.
Bonita had been my best friend for a year. I liked her because she cared about the same things I did. She did well in school and wanted to go to college. She also thought about the world like I did. Why were there so many wars? Why did people kill each other? What were people our age in different countries doing? We decided that one day we would travel and see what was out there.
Bonita was also one of the nicest girls I knew. She had a good heart. Few people knew that because she was so quiet. Once she gave her jacket to girl in our class. The girl, Dora, would go to school in the middle of the cold winter with only a sweater. Bonita told Dora she hated the jacket and would throw it away unless Dora wanted it.
I knew for a fact it was Bonita’s favorite jacket. Bonita’s name did fit her. She was pretty inside out. And Bonita didn’t look like the Chupacabras—the monster that drank goat’s blood. I don’t care what Neli says. Jealousy can make a person see someone ugly. That’s what I think.
“Your treehouse is starting to look good,” she said, looking up at Big Oso tree.
“I can’t wait to see it finished.”
“You’re lucky your dad is a carpenter.”
Feo ran out of his doghouse. His tail kept wagging. He was such a friendly dog. Sometimes we had to be careful with him. Feo was almost up to our waists. If he wanted to play, he could knock us over.
“How are you today, Feo?” Bonita asked, petting his black coat.
Feo started growling which was strange. He liked people. Then I saw Neli coming our way. Feo didn’t like Neli. That’s why he is only my dog. Papa gave him to both of us, but every time Neli came near him, he growled. When she tried to play with him, he would run away from her. She started calling him Feo. The name stuck. I never did like that name for my dog. Imagine naming a dog Ugly, but that’s the only name he answers to. As Neli got nearer, he growled louder.
“Shut up, Feo!” Neli yelled. He stopped growling and rushed back to his doghouse. My sister can be pretty scary sometimes.
“Kitty’s here,” Neli said.
“Where?”
“Inside the house.”
“Why didn’t you tell her we were outside?” I asked, annoyed.
“You tell her,” she snapped, walking the way. “I’m not your secretary.” Nelly started singing as she got close to the back door. “Chupa-Bonita-cabras, Chupa-Bonita-cabras.”
“What is she singing?” Bonita asked.
“Nothing. Don’t pay any attention to her, or she’ll get worse,” I said, walking towards the house. “I’ll be right back with Kitty.”
Kitty was in the living room staring at Neli who was eating popcorn. Popcorn is Kitty’s favorite food. I was sure Neli hadn’t offered her any. They didn’t get along even if they were cousins. I think it was because Kitty was an artist and a little strange. Neli was weird because she was Nelly. Two strange people have
a hard time getting along.
Nelly started gobbling the popcorn, and Kitty shook her head. Her long, curly, black hair was bouncing. Kitty’s hair was even curlier than mine and below her waist. Her very black eyes ran into Neli’s. Nelly just gave her a huge twisted smile.
“Hey, Kitty,” I greeted.
“Hi, Miranda,” she returned, taking her eyes off Neli.
“Would you like some popcorn?” I asked her.
Neli almost spit out her snack. “There’s no more left! None! Not even one!”
“There’s more in the kitchen,” I stated.
“I would love some popcorn,” declared Kitty. We want towards the kitchen. “You’ve got good manners, Miranda, compared to some people.”
I could hear Neli stomp her foot. Kitty and I microwaved a bag of popcorn when we arrived at the kitchen. I got sodas and hot sauce from the refrigerator. We stepped outside.
“Neli is such a pest,” Kitty asserted, putting a handful of popcorn to her mouth.
“I know.”
I tried to ignore Neli’s face squeezed on the window.
“What’s happening, Bonita?” asked Kitty, sitting next to her on the ground. They were close to the flowers.
“Isn’t Miranda’s treehouse looking awesome?”
“I can’t wait until it’s finished,” Kitty said.
“Me neither,” I stated.
We sprinkled hot sauce on the popcorn and started eating it. The sodas were nice and cold. I had a root beer, Kitty had a coke, and Bonita had a sprite.
“The treehouse looks big,” said Kitty.
“It’ll be fun to decorate.” Bonita scratched Feo’s ears. Now that Neli was in the house, he had returned to us.
I heard the window open. My heart wanted to thump in my mouth. Please don’t do anything bad, I thought. But then I heard Neli singing in Spanish.
Que llueva,
Que llueva,
La Chupa-Bonita-cabras de la cueva.
Que llueva,
Que llueva,
La Kitty fea de la cueva.
“Shut up, Neli,” I shouted. She had a beautiful voice. Why did she have to make songs ugly by changing their words?
“I sing when I want to!” Neli snapped.
“Neli, shut the window!” My mama yelled.
Neli furiously shut it. Her face was twisted.
“Poor Neli,” proclaimed Bonita.
“What?!” Both Kitty and I asked at the same time.
“She’s lonely.”
“She’s a brat and a cabezona,” I stated.
“Don’t forget she called you a Chupacabras,” mentioned Kitty.
Bonita sighed. “She only says ugly things because she feels left out.”
“I don’t want to talk about Neli anymore,” I grumbled.
We started talking about the new school year. All three of us would be in the same grade—seventh. We were excited. Middle school would be like entering a new world.
Both Kitty and Bonita had already turned twelve. They had told me they didn’t feel that much different from eleven. I didn’t see how that could be. Even the flowers were starting to look changed to me. Their color was much brighter. The world was becoming more up close to me. When you’re a kid, the world is further away because you have someone to take care of it for you. At least, that’s what I think.
Maybe Kitty and Bonita felt the same as when they were eleven because growing up is different for each person. Wouldn’t it be a funny world if all of us were exactly the same? I’m glad I like Root Beer, Kitty loves Coke, and Bonita drinks Sprite. They don’t have to like Root Beer to be my friends. I learn from their diversity. Kitty teaches me about art. Bonita teaches me about math, since I’m not very good at math. I think I teach them about looking at the world up close.
“Guess who’s in love?” asked Kitty.
“What?” I was scratching Feo behind the ears.
“At least she says she’s in love,” said Kitty.
“Who?” Bonita asked.
“Clara is going out with Piri.”
“Clara is only twelve,” I said.
“She thinks she’s all grown up,” Kitty asserted. “She got her menstrual period and thinks she’s an adult.”
My mama told me I couldn’t start dating until I was fifteen. She said I would have a quinceañera party. Kitty and Bonita thought it would be smart to listen to my mama. Boys were a puzzle. We decided we might understand them better at an older age.
“I’ve already got my period, and I don’t feel like an adult,” said Bonita.
“I wonder if mine will be coming this year?” asked Kitty.
“All I know is that this is an important year,” I said. “I’m going to do something important.”
“Like what?” asked Kitty.
“Liked getting a boyfriend?” Bonita questioned.
“No, not that,” I stated.
“What then?” Kitty asked.
“I’ll think of something,” I asserted.
The Warriors Club Page 2