Gaby, Lost and Found

by Angela Cervantes

  “What are you doing that for?”

  Gaby sprayed a few more times. “What? This?”

  He guzzled milk and then put the glass on the counter with a loud, empty thud. “Yeah, that.”

  “I can smell your cigarettes.”

  It was partly true. He didn’t smoke inside, but his clothes always carried the smoke smell indoors. She was relieved when he didn’t say anything and turned his back to her again. She put the can down on the recliner when she spotted Feather’s tail sticking out from under the couch.

  “Feather!” Gaby whispered. She got down on her stomach and was about to grab Feather when her father suddenly stood over her.

  “What are you doing?”

  Gaby popped up from the floor and sat against the couch to cover Feather’s tail.

  “I … I’m looking for tuna. I thought you wanted me to look for tuna.” She prayed Feather didn’t come out from under the couch just yet.

  “Why would it be under the couch?” He frowned a moment, then turned abruptly. “Forget it. I got to get going. I quit my job last night and I’m meeting a guy about a new one.”

  “What happened? Why did you quit?”

  “Doesn’t matter. I’ll pick something up to eat on the way. I have to run.” He walked to his bedroom.

  Gaby mumbled, “I need a snack, too. Is breakfast too much to ask for?” She got down on her stomach again and pulled Feather out from under the couch. Feather meowed. “Shush, sweetie. I got you.”

  “So why aren’t you at Alma’s house?” her father yelled from his room. Gaby looked over her shoulder. The coast was clear. She scampered to her room and tossed Feather onto the bed. She closed the door just in time. He came out buttoning a long-sleeve blue shirt. “Did you two get into an argument?”

  Gaby shook her head. “No,” she mumbled. She and Alma had their disagreements, but they had never argued like they did yesterday. She just wanted to forget the whole thing.

  “Did you see the flyers I left for you on the table?”

  “Yeah, but I’ve told you before we’re not getting no dogs or cats, Gaby. I can barely feed you and me. Things are tight.”

  This was his typical rant. Gaby waited for him to take a breath.

  “I wrote those for our school’s service project. I only wanted you to see them.”

  “Oh.” His voice lightened a little. “I thought you were asking for a pet.” He grabbed the keys from the dining room table. “I left five dollars on the kitchen counter for you. Go to Alma’s house.”

  His keys rattled as he locked the front door behind him. The truck coughed a few times, and then roared down the street. She knew he wouldn’t be back anytime soon.

  Gaby whipped up two scrambled eggs in a skillet. She added the remaining tuna to the eggs to make her specialty, eggs a la tuna. Since she was mostly on her own for breakfast and dinner, she developed a knack for inventing new dishes with food from the City Harvest Center. And even though her own stomach burned from hunger, Gaby put the eggs in a bowl for Feather. The cat sniffed at the eggs and tuna, nudged them with her nose, and then finished them off in a few bites. She meowed for more.

  “An eggs a la tuna lover, eh?” Gaby rubbed Feather behind the ears. “We’re out of eggs and tuna, I’m sorry. Let’s see what else we can find.” She searched the cabinets. Feather jumped onto the counter and let her tail thump against it. There were a couple cans of creamed corn, a jar of peanut butter, and a bag of spaghetti. Gaby considered making another specialty of hers, spaghetti a la peanut butter, but decided against it. She was pretty sure she had read somewhere that peanut butter was impossible to get out of whiskers.

  “Time to go to the store.” She stuffed the five dollars her father left her into her pocket. She took Feather to her bedroom. “Be back soon, Feather.” She shut the bedroom door behind her.

  On Saturday mornings, Gaby and Alma would usually eat breakfast with Alma’s parents, grab their homework, and head to the public library with Alma’s mom or jump on bikes and ride around the neighborhood. Today was definitely bike weather. Then it dawned on Gaby that she might bump into Marcos and Enrique riding their bikes. They’d ask her where she was going and what was she doing. She hoped that they were at the Parkway Bridge practicing their wheelies and hops. Underneath the Parkway Bridge was the kids’ secret spot to try out tricks on their skateboards or bikes, but it wasn’t safe. Cars whizzed by above, and on the other side was a wooded area that Gaby was sure was home to creepy-crawly snakes. It was also where people were known to dump unwanted animals. There was even an official city sign there that said NO DUMPING. It might as well have been written in Latin. It didn’t stop anything.

  As Gaby walked past several homes, the aroma of eggs, chorizo, and tortillas drifted out and stopped her cold in her tracks. As her stomach let out one loud growl after another, she walked slower to savor the familiar smell that used to pour from her home when her mom was there. She knew that three blocks away, Alma and her family were probably eating the same thing. Gaby lowered her head and picked up her pace. She couldn’t think about that right now. Feather depended on her, and she couldn’t leave her alone for too long.

  When she reached the small neighborhood store, the owner, Mr. Valdivia, was behind the counter reading a magazine.

  He looked up. “Buenos días.”

  “Good morning,” Gaby answered. The store smelled like Pine-Sol floor cleaner and sold everything from corn tortillas to coconut paletas, her favorite fruit ice pop, but it only had two choices for cat litter. Both were more than five dollars. She skimmed over the canned cat food and had just picked up a can of Divine Feline, with a stunning Siamese on the label, when she heard the store’s door open and Enrique’s voice. She dipped down and peered through the cans of cat food toward the front of the store. Enrique hovered at the front counter and chatted in Spanish with Mr. Valdivia.

  That’s strange, Gaby thought. On a nice day like today, she was sure Enrique and Marcos would be together. If Marcos wasn’t with her and Alma heading to the library, he was always with Enrique. Would Marcos and Alma go to the library together without her? If they did, it would be the first time. She shook her head. It served her right. She should have called and apologized to Alma.

  Suddenly, Gaby felt two strong hands on her shoulders. She screamed and dropped the cat food.

  “Got you!” Marcos laughed. Gaby’s face went red.

  Enrique ran over.

  “You should have seen her jump.” Marcos picked up the can of cat food that rolled toward his feet.

  Gaby pointed at him. “You’re a jerk, Marcos,” she snarled. “Both of you, jerks!”

  “Hey, what did I do?” Enrique said.

  “Why are you buying cat food?” Marcos waved the can in front of her.

  “I’m not.” Gaby’s voice was defensive.

  Marcos squinted. “Then why did you drop this?”

  Gaby’s mind went blank. Her eyes darted around the store for some distraction until a lightbulb went on in her head. “That’s it!” she said out loud.

  Both boys exchanged confused glances. Enrique scratched his head. “What’s going on?”

  The cat on the can looked exactly like the chubby Siamese she’d rescued. Mrs. Sepulveda would have cat litter to loan her. “It’s not for me,” Gaby said. “Mrs. Sepulveda asked me to pick up cat food for her. She’s not feeling well.” She snatched the can out of his hands and then took two more from the shelf. She scurried up to the counter.

  “You sure those aren’t for you?” Marcos asked. She ignored him and managed a sweet smile for Mr. Valdivia as he rang up the cat food. “Maybe all your work at the shelter has turned you into a cat?” he said. “And now you crave cat food.”

  Enrique meowed. She tossed them both a vicious glare over her shoulder. She took her change from Mr. Valdivia and stomped out of the store while both boys continued to meow.

  Turning into a cat! Gaby fumed. All of that hand-squeezing - everything - is - going - to
- be - all - right talk meant nothing to him. Once Marcos is with Enrique or any other boy he becomes a dog. No, not a dog! Dogs are sweet. Sweet like Cinder, Puck, Bonita, Atticus, and Finch. Marcos is a jerk.

  It wasn’t until she got to Mrs. Sepulveda’s light blue house that she calmed down. In the yard, there was a small statue of St. Francis of Assisi, the patron saint of animals, surrounded by pink rosebushes. Gaby prayed under her breath. “Please, St. Francis, let her be home. Feather is in serious need of cat litter.” She rang the doorbell. A cat yowled from inside and steps approached.

  “Good morning, Gaby,” Mrs. Sepulveda said through the screen door.

  It had been a while since Gaby saw Mrs. Sepulveda, and she had more gray hair than she remembered. Ever since Mrs. Sepulveda retired from her work as a university professor, she traveled all the time. “I hope I’m not bothering you.” Gaby smiled.

  “Of course not — wait a minute, my cat is —” The cat moaned and scratched at the screen door. “Shush, Queen!”

  “Is she okay?” Gaby asked.

  “Yes, she’s fine. It’s just whenever I open the door she wants out.” She bent down and picked the cat up. “Have you met Queen?”

  Gaby nodded and half smiled at the cat that had led her up a tree and left her with welts all over her arm and shoulder. She decided she wouldn’t tell Mrs. Sepulveda about how Queen got stuck in the tree in front of her house or the stinging red welts she’d given her.

  “Anyway, where are my manners?” she said. “Please come in.”

  Inside the house, large framed pictures of Mrs. Sepulveda and Queen posed in front of the Statue of Liberty, the Liberty Bell, and the Grand Canyon hung on the walls.

  She put Queen down. “How are things, Gaby?” The cat brushed up against Gaby’s legs and sniffed.

  “Last night a stray cat came to my house, and —”

  “Ugh! It’s that highway, I tell you. People think they can dump their pets under the bridge. Instead they should get them spayed and neutered. Makes me so angry!” Mrs. Sepulveda raged. Queen and Gaby stared at her. “I’m sorry.” Mrs. Sepulveda fanned herself with her hand. “You were saying that you needed some food for your stray?”

  “Actually, I bought some food.” Gaby pulled a can out from the grocery bag and handed it to Mrs. Sepulveda.

  “That’s some expensive food, Gaby.” She gave the can back.

  Gaby nodded. “She needs premium nutrition.”

  “Of course.” Mrs. Sepulveda smiled.

  “What I really need is cat litter.”

  “I have tons of it.” She got up and led Gaby to the kitchen. Queen jumped from the floor to the kitchen counter. She strutted with her tail in the air. Every few steps, she’d stop and throw a sparkling, blue-eyed glance at Gaby. When she got to the sink, the Siamese stopped for a drink straight from the faucet. Gaby giggled. Queen was quite the troublemaker. “Get!” Mrs. Sepulveda raised a threatening finger. Queen leaped from the sink to a small breakfast table. She sat next to a large bowl of bananas, apples, and oranges and wrapped her chocolate-dipped tail around it. Gaby had never seen bananas so yellow or apples so bright red. Her stomach growled.

  Mrs. Sepulveda pulled out a bag of cat litter from a wicker hamper. “Take this. Queen didn’t like it.” Queen thumped her tail against the table and mewed. “You’re so spoiled.” She closed the hamper. “You’re actually doing me a favor by getting it off my hands. Do you have a box for the cat litter, dear?”

  “I have an old storage container at home.”

  “That should work.” Mrs. Sepulveda nodded. “Now tell me, will you take the cat to a shelter or keep it?”

  “Well, I’m not sure. My dad doesn’t like cats, but I can’t let her starve.”

  Mrs. Sepulveda stepped closer to Gaby. “You know who you remind me of, don’t you?” Gaby shook her head. “Your mom!” She clasped her hands together and smiled. “Your mom was very special and so are you.”

  Gaby bit down on her bottom lip. She didn’t feel special. She had rushed off the phone with her mom this morning. Plus, in the span of a few hours, she had lied to her classmates, Alma, Alma’s mother, her father, Marcos, Enrique, and now Mrs. Sepulveda. She knew her mom would not approve.

  “Tell me,” Mrs. Sepulveda said, “have you talked to your mom lately?”

  “Just this morning.”

  That was the truth, at least.

  “Oh, Gaby. I’m still so shocked about that whole ordeal.” Mrs. Sepulveda leaned back against the breakfast table. Queen positioned herself under Mrs. Sepulveda’s arm. “Queen and I were in New York. I didn’t even get to say good-bye to her.”

  “Mr. Gomez hired a lawyer so that I could spend a little time with her before she left.”

  “That’s what I heard. They are good people.” She nodded. “Your mom is a strong woman. I’m willing to bet she is working harder than ever and saving every Honduran lempira she can to prepare a good home for you to visit in Honduras. You’d like to visit Honduras, wouldn’t you?”

  Gaby’s eyes watered. Visit? Mrs. Sepulveda’s question echoed in Gaby’s head like she was the one at the Grand Canyon. No, she didn’t want her mom to prepare a home in Honduras. No, she didn’t want to visit her mom in Honduras. She wanted her mom to come home.

  “I’m sorry, did I say something wrong?” Mrs. Sepulveda grabbed a napkin from the table and handed it to Gaby.

  “It’s okay … it’s just …” Gaby dabbed her eyes. “I thought my mom would be back by now. She promised, but she’s still in Honduras.”

  “Hmmm.” Mrs. Sepulveda’s eyebrows rose. “Gaby, it’s incredibly tough to cross the border right now. I’m sure you’ve seen the news about how bad it is, right?”

  Gaby nodded. She had seen the news, but it would be different for her mom. It just had to be different. She needed her mom at home with her.

  “Well, next time you talk to your mom please let her know that I’m thinking of her and if she needs anything, to not hesitate to ask, all right?”

  Mrs. Sepulveda gathered Queen in her arms and walked Gaby out.

  “Make sure your stray gets plenty of water. If it’s been out in the streets, it’s probably dehydrated,” Mrs. Sepulveda said.

  “Thank you.” Gaby waved.

  “Wait!” Mrs. Sepulveda called out. Gaby stopped outside the fence. Mrs. Sepulveda disappeared into the house and then returned with an apple and banana. “You’re too skinny. Eat these. And good luck with that stray.”

  As soon as Gaby got home, she opened a can of food for Feather. While Feather ate, Gaby devoured the banana and went to the basement to find a box for the cat litter. She found a transparent plastic container that belonged to her mom. Against Gaby’s protests, her father had packed up all of her mother’s things when he moved in. It was a big fight. Gaby screamed that her mom would be back, so there was no need to move her stuff to the basement. He had just waited until she was at school and then moved everything downstairs. Gaby didn’t speak to him for days.

  She opened the plastic container. It was full of notebooks and a few sheets of Spanish songs. Gaby recognized them all. Her favorite song, “De Colores,” was one that her mom had taught all the kids she babysat. There were also a couple of white doilies with pink and red flowers that her mom made as gifts. Every Christmas, the students brought gifts to their teachers at St. Ann’s. Most of the girls gave perfume or scarves, but Gaby couldn’t afford to buy gifts. Her mom made homemade presents instead. Last Christmas, Gaby gave her fifth-grade teacher a dozen pork tamales made with plantain leaves. Her teacher liked them so much, she ended up ordering five dozen more for a holiday party. With the extra money, her mom bought Gaby new shoes and a pair of jeans at JCPenney.

  Gaby opened an English workbook filled with her mom’s writing. Her mom had doodled pretty flowers and birds at the edges of each page. Doodling was something Gaby liked to do, too. She chuckled when she saw a sentence her mom had written: “The house mine is in the hill.” Her mom worked on her En
glish every day. By the time she was deported, she could sing along to country music on the radio, read the newspaper, and talk back to the evening news.

  Gaby gathered all the doilies, sheet music, and workbooks into a neat pile. She took the empty box. She knew her mom wouldn’t mind if she used the container for Feather. At the bottom of the stairs, Gaby heard her father’s truck. It coughed and sputtered. Gaby dropped the box and raced up the stairs. She had to hide Feather!

  At the top of the stairs, she heard the front door open. It was too late.

  “Gaby!” he yelled. “Gaby!” His tone was harsh, and she knew what that meant. She walked into the dining room. Across the room from her, her father’s blue eyes were narrowed in on Feather cleaning herself on the dining room table. It would have been cute if she wasn’t in so much trouble.

  “Why is there a cat on the table?” he growled.

  “I … uh … found her.” Gaby leaned forward to reach for Feather, but the cat jumped off and brushed up against her father’s legs, meowing. He glowered at the cat. Feather mewed and rubbed her head against his right shoe. He pulled his foot away. Suddenly, Feather lurched forward and spewed a massive gooey glob of chewed-up eggs, dried cat food, and tuna onto her father’s shoe.

  “Oh, Feather!” Gaby cried. She grabbed a paper towel from the kitchen and rushed to Feather.

  “That’s disgusting!” her father yelled. He stomped to the bathroom. “Get that cat out of my sight, right now!”

  “I’m sorry! She’s been sick! It’s not her fault! I’ll clean your shoe, I promise.”

  Her father walked out of the bathroom and into his bedroom. “I’m not playing, Gaby. If you don’t throw that cat out, I will.” From the bedroom, he mumbled and cursed. Gaby was still cleaning Feather’s whiskers when he reappeared from his bedroom with a change of shoes.