Sister Joan walked around the desk and sat at the edge of it to be closer to Gaby. Her posture was straight and proper.
“Your mom worked hard for you to be here so that you could have the best education and be surrounded with people who love you, like us. You can’t forget that, Gaby.”
“I won’t.” Gaby stared down at her hands. Now she felt even more horrible for how she had talked to her mom on the phone.
“Now, I’ve talked to everyone involved regarding the regrettable shenanigans with the cat. Regardless of what is going on at home — and I know it hasn’t been easy — this behavior is unacceptable.” Gaby lowered her head and nodded. “However, Dr. Villalobos tells me that you saved a litter of kittens and Mrs. Kohler says that you have taken on extra work writing profiles for the animals at the shelter. They both believe you deserve a second chance, but I’d like to hear one of these profiles before I make my final decision.”
Gaby grabbed her notebook from her book bag. She knew exactly which one she wanted to share. “I wrote this last night. Since I won’t be able to adopt Feather … I wrote a profile to help her find a family.” She stood and read.
Dr. V. gave her a thumbs-up.
“Feather sounds like a lovely cat,” Sister Joan said. “Do you think there’s a cat at the shelter that would fit in with us at the convent?”
“Yes!” Gaby leafed through the pages and stopped at Snowflake’s profile. It had been difficult to write, because Snowflake was an uppity cat that ruled the shelter with a whip of her long white tail. Still, behind that tough demeanor, Gaby knew that there was a cat that wanted to be loved.
Gaby looked up from her notebook to see Sister Joan’s face soften into a smile.
“Gaby,” Sister Joan said. “I’ve decided that you will not be allowed to work directly with the animals anymore.”
Gaby’s head dropped.
“But that’s not fair!” Alma sat at the edge of her chair, ready to pounce. Her mom put her arm around Alma’s shoulders. “But it’s not,” she mumbled. Sister Joan waited for Alma to quiet.
“As I was saying, you can’t work with the animals directly,” she said. “But you can still write profiles and volunteer, although you will be restricted to working with Daisy. You are not allowed to be out of her sight.”
Gaby’s entire body lightened. This wasn’t too bad. She could handle folding newsletters, updating the website, and completing adoption papers with Daisy.
Dr. V. spoke up. “This also means no more cleaning the dog pens or cat litter boxes —”
“What?! That’s not fair!” Alma cried out again. “She doesn’t have to pick up dog poop?” Alma pointed her finger up. “I helped her smuggle Feather, you know. If it wasn’t for me, that cat would never have made it past the bus ride.”
Gaby laughed for the first time since being called into the dungeon. Mr. and Mrs. Gomez shook their heads.
Sister Joan rubbed her chin and watched Alma with amusement. “Is that so?” she said. “Consider yourself lucky, Miss Alma. Don’t think I haven’t noticed the fashion liberties you’ve taken with your uniform as of late.”
Alma sat up straight. “Yes, Sister.”
With that, Sister Joan stood, shook everyone’s hands, and walked them out of her office.
“No promises, but maybe I will see you ladies at the Barkapalooza open house,” she said.
Later that afternoon, Gaby stared at the phone at Alma’s house. Although she was eleven years old now, she hadn’t changed much from the child that Sister Joan described. She still wanted to be near her mom.
Gaby peeked into the kitchen as Alma and Mr. Gomez loaded the dishwasher.
“Mr. Gomez? Is it alright if I call my mom?”
Mr. Gomez froze. Alma nudged her dad with a spatula. “Dad, say something. Tell her yes.”
“Of course, mi hija.” He rushed over to Gaby and gave her a big hug, still holding a casserole dish.
“Dad, let her breathe!” Alma rolled her eyes.
Gaby laughed as he pulled away. “Gracias,” she said.
In the dining room, she took a deep breath, picked up the receiver, and dialed the number. The phone rang twice before a woman answered. It wasn’t her mom.
Gaby asked for her mom by name and in Spanish. “May I speak with my mom?”
“Is this Gaby?”
“Yes,” Gaby answered. “Is this Tía Laura?”
“Sí. Mi reina, your mom is not here. She left to come be with you.”
Gaby gasped. “What? But what about the money? Did she have enough money?”
“No, but she didn’t care —” Tía Laura’s voice broke. She coughed into the phone. “Se fue. She’s gone, Gaby.”
In class the next morning, Gaby stared out the window. It wasn’t until Alma tapped her on the shoulder that Gaby realized Mrs. Kohler was calling on her.
“Where are you, Gaby?” Mrs. Kohler asked. “Please come back to class.”
Later, Gaby noticed Alma talking privately to Mrs. Kohler. After that, Mrs. Kohler stopped calling on her. No doubt she knew now that Gaby’s mind was somewhere between Honduras and the United States.
Gaby spent lunch bent over her notebook at a table in the cafeteria. Alma and three of her friends hovered nearby, anxious to read Gaby’s next profile. She wrote about Coco. The brown-and-white cat was “owner surrendered,” which meant Coco once had a home and family, but then for some reason they had to give her up. Whenever someone entered the cat room, Coco sat up and pressed her head against the cage as if checking to see if it was her family returning for her, but it never was. It reminded Gaby of how she ran to the phone whenever it rang, hoping it was her mom calling to say she was returning home.
Now her mom was on her way home and Gaby wasn’t happy; she was scared. If her mom couldn’t afford a good coyote, what chance did she have to make it safely across the border? Gaby felt bad that she’d pressured her mom. She covered her face with her hands.
“Are you okay?” Alma asked.
Gaby peeked out. “Yes. I’m almost done.” She ignored Alma’s concerned look and wrote a few more lines before she put her pen down. She held out the notebook to Alma, who grabbed it.
“Should I read it out loud?” Alma asked.
“What? Here? Now? Are you crazy?”
“Yes to all of the above!” Alma thrust the notebook above her head like she was Moses carrying the Ten Commandments and headed straight for the stage at the far end of the cafeteria. Girls murmured as Alma passed their tables. When she reached the center of the stage, everyone hushed. Even the snobby eighth graders sitting in their corner table at the back of the cafeteria turned to see what Alma would do.
“Hi, chicas! As many of you know, our class volunteers at Furry Friends Animal Shelter. We invite all of you to come to our Barkapalooza open house,” Alma said. “Right now, I’d like to read a short profile by Gaby Howard about one of the cats there, who desperately needs a home.”
A girl yelled, “You go, chica!”
Gaby would recognize that voice anywhere. Liliana, Marcos’s sister, sat at a table with the entire staff of the school paper. Cameras, pens, and notepads were out to record Alma’s latest stunt. Liliana called for Gaby and patted the empty seat next to her. Gaby waved off the invite with a smile and moved to the back of the cafeteria. She braced herself against the wall as Alma cleared her throat and began to read.
When she was finished, Alma looked up, searching the cafeteria until she found Gaby at the opposite end.
“Special thanks to our shelter scribe, Gaby Howard!” Alma yelled.
The cafeteria filled with applause. Dolores glanced over at Gaby, cupped her hands over her mouth, and whispered to Jan and the rest of the girls at their table. Gaby wondered why she even bothered trying to cover up her blabbering. For months, she pretended like it didn’t bother her, but when a roar of laughter came from the corner table she decided enough was enough. She charged over there.
“Just for your information �
��” Gaby focused on Dolores. “My mom is risking her life to come home right now,” Gaby said. Dolores and Jan glared, but Rosa looked startled. “I thought you should know in case you’d like to spread more gossip or make jokes about that.”
Alma was at her side, tugging at her arm. “C’mon, Gaby. Don’t waste your time on them.”
Gaby let Alma pull her away. At her locker, Gaby slid down to the floor. “Did I really just go off on Dolores and Jan?”
“Yep!” Alma sat next to her, grinning. “It was awesome!”
Gaby leaned back against the locker and moaned. “What’s wrong with me?”
“You stuck up for yourself. I’m thinking the dogs at the shelter are rubbing off on you.”
“Great, I’m the St. Ann’s stray.” Gaby let out a long, deep breath. “Alma, my mom is out there because I was a big brat and didn’t talk to her. If anything happens to her —” She shook her head.
“I know, Gaby.” Alma put her arm around Gaby’s shoulder. “I know.”
Gaby couldn’t sleep. Her mother was somewhere between Honduras and Kansas. And her father’s bags were packed and lined up by the front door. He’d told her that as soon as her mom got home, he’d leave for Dodge City and be out of their way. Gaby thought he seemed too eager and happy to leave. She barely spoke to him because of it.
She sat up, flipped on the light, and grabbed her notebook and pen. At the top of a blank page, she wrote “Milagro.” Earlier that day, Dr. V. had sent her an e-mail that said he’d named one of the little kittens she found Milagro. It meant “miracle.” And right now, a miracle was what she and her mom needed. The words poured out faster than Gaby could write, and once she finished, the phone rang. Maybe this was her miracle. She answered the phone.
“Gaby, it’s Tía Laura.”
“Hola, Tia. Is everything okay? Have you heard from my mom?” Gaby’s father came out of his bedroom, rubbing his eyes. He sat on the recliner across from Gaby.
“Si, Gaby, your mom is fine, but she was tricked. She wants me to tell you she is sorry.”
“Tricked? What happened? Is she okay?”
“The coyote took all her money and left her in Guatemala. All of the money is gone, but she is fine. She is on the road home.”
“You mean …” Gaby closed her eyes and struggled to find the words in Spanish. “You mean she is heading back to your home?”
“Yes, Gaby. She is very sorry.”
“Gracias, Tía.” Gaby choked back tears. “Please tell her I’m not angry.” Gaby stopped. “Tell her that even though I miss her, I am happy she is safe and there to take care of you, Tía. She doesn’t have to risk her life again because no matter how far away she is, she’s in my heart always.”
Gaby set the phone down.
“Is she all right?” her father asked.
“She was robbed,” Gaby said softly. “She’s not coming home.”
Her father stood up, walked over, and took the phone from her hand. Gaby didn’t resist. “No more sleeping with the phone, okay?” He returned the phone back to its charger on the table. “What do you want to do now, kiddo?” He sat down on the recliner across from her and wiped his hand over his face. He looked worried.
“Even though I knew it would be dangerous, a part of me was happy that she was finally coming home. All of this is my fault.” Hot tears poured down her cheeks.
“That’s not true, Gaby. None of this is your fault. Were you the one that raided the factory three months ago and had your mom arrested and deported?”
Gaby shook her head. “No.”
“Were you the coyote that robbed her?”
“No.”
“That’s right. None of this is your fault. You’re just an eleven-year-old kid that wants her mom home. There’s nothing wrong with that.” He stood up. “I want to show you something.” He walked back to his bedroom.
Gaby grabbed her pillow and pulled it close to her. She was confused. Her father had never been this thoughtful before. What did he want to show her?
He came back out holding a folded piece of paper. He unfolded it and handed it to her.
It was the profile she’d written for herself at Alma’s house. It must have slipped out of her notebook.
“I’m a lousy dad.” He picked his fingernails.
“No.” She searched for the right words. “That was just for fun.” Gaby was sorry he had found the profile. She hadn’t meant to hurt him.
“On the way to the shelter, you were right,” he said. “I haven’t spent enough time at home with you. I guess mostly because I didn’t know how to take care of you or what you needed from me, but — I am proud of you.” He ran a hand through his hair. “You deserve everything you wrote in that profile. Every single thing. And, well, I don’t have to tell you, I guess, but … I suck at being a dad. I can’t give you those things, but I know a family that wants to.”
“Alma’s family.” Gaby exhaled. Her father nodded. “So, I don’t have to go to Dodge City? I can live with Alma’s family?”
“They love you, Gaby. And it’s about time you got what you want for a change, right?”
“Thank you, Dad!” She felt like she had been trapped in a closed room for months and someone had finally opened a window. She rushed up to hug him. After a few seconds, she felt him hug her back.
The next day, Gaby, with Alma’s help, filled up two trash bags and her book bag with every single belonging she owned in the world. Her dad and Mr. Gomez finished loading his truck.
Outside, Gaby’s dad handed the house keys to Mr. Gomez, and then they piled Gaby’s bags into Mr. Gomez’s car.
Gaby’s dad gave her a long hug. “I’ll call once I’m settled.”
Her father climbed into the truck, waved, and then pulled away from the curb. She waved until his truck turned the corner. She hoped with all her heart that the job would work out for him and that he would remember to call.
Mr. Gomez put his arm around Gaby’s shoulder. “Once I lock the door, hija, I have to take the keys to the owner. Do you want to take a few minutes?”
She faced the house. It was the smallest on the block. Her mom had painted it light yellow to remind her of the “Honduran sun.” In this way, she said, she would always be at home.
Gaby walked up the porch steps and into the house. The couch she’d slept on every night since her mom left, two mattresses, the dining room table and chairs, and the phone she slept next to night after night were all that remained. She touched the phone one last time.
“Adios, house.” Gaby walked out and shut the door. On the porch, she grabbed the little white saucer and stuffed it into her pocket.
“Are you sad?” Alma asked.
“It hasn’t felt like my home since my mom left.” Gaby shrugged, then smiled. “If Dr. V. was here right now, you know what he’d say?”
“He’d say, ‘You’re one lucky girl to be living with Alma Gomez.’”
“Not even close. He’d say, ‘You’re off to a brand-new start on life …’”
“‘… isn’t that phenomenal?’” Alma finished. She threw her hands up and shook them around. She was still strutting around with her crazy hands when Mr. Gomez opened the car door and called them. Gaby took a long look at her home. It was all happening so fast.
“Is it okay if we walk home?” Gaby asked. Alma locked arms with her and they walked like that all the way home.
That evening at Alma’s house, Gaby’s mother called. Between sobs, Gaby apologized and told her she didn’t want her to risk her life trying to return to the States. It wasn’t worth it. They were lucky this time. If her mom tried again, it could be worse. She also told her about Feather.
“I think you took that cat because you missed me,” her mom said. “You were trying to save it the same way you tried to save me from being deported. I remember how you’d come with your rosary when I was detained. You told everyone that would listen how you were my daughter and that you wanted me home.”
Gaby shook her head.
“Yeah, but it didn’t help. I haven’t saved anyone. Feather is back at the shelter and you’re still far away.”
“Everything’s going to be all right, princesa,” her mom said. “Do you know what? The whole time I was walking through Honduras, I’d see stray dogs, and I thought of what you might write about them. I even gave them silly names like Pepito, Gordo, Suerte, or Flaco … It helped me not be so scared. Could you read me another animal story?”
Gaby swallowed hard. She could only imagine how frightened her mom must have been after being deserted in Guatemala. She pulled out her notebook and found Milagro’s profile.
“Ay, Gaby, that is beautiful!” Then, she was suddenly silent.
“Mom, are you still there?”
“Estoy aqui. I was just thinking … maybe someday you can come visit me in Honduras? Would you like that? Maybe together we could help the stray animals here?”
Gaby’s heart danced. “I would love that.”
“Only thing is … I think if you visited me in Honduras, you’d miss Marcos too much.”
“No way!” Gaby shrieked. “I wouldn’t miss him at all!”
“I don’t know, I remember how you always said he was cute —”
“No way!” Gaby shook her head and screamed till she laughed.
“We’ll see, mi princesa. Remember, I’m your mom. I know you very well.”
Gaby, Lost and Found Page 11