Wish Upon a Stray

by Yamile Saied Méndez

  Mandy read the forms and documents Papi had brought. Birth certificates and passports, vaccine and school records.

  “Francisco?” she called.

  My little brother whipped around and said, “Here!”

  Then she called, “Mateo!”

  Never one to stay behind, Mateo said, “Here!”

  His little pinched face made my heart quiver. They may have had better accents than me, but starting at a new school was going to be hard for all of us.

  Papi and Mandy talked about how there were openings in both first and second grade in the Spanish immersion program. I translated the news to my brothers in a whisper, aware of Tirzah’s and her friends’ curious looks. But I only had eyes for Mateo’s relieved expression.

  “We’ll be in the same class as the neighbor boys!” Francisco whisper-shouted.

  Before we left, Mandy gave my brothers each another chocolate Kiss. Donovan and Beto helped themselves too, and Mandy said, “Come see me again soon!”

  “We will,” they replied in unison.

  Outside, Mrs. Campbell was already waiting for us by the curb.

  “Avó!” Tirzah called, and ran to hug her grandma. I missed Lela with the intensity of a million suns, and perhaps for the first time in my life I understood what it meant to feel sick with jealousy.

  “Everything went okay?” Mrs. Campbell asked Papi. Now her Portuguese accent seemed unmistakable. How hadn’t I recognized it before?

  Papi gave her a short recap, and she sighed. “Well, at least two out of my errands today went right.”

  “What was the other one?” Tirzah asked.

  Mrs. Campbell sighed again. “Missing luggage.” Hope flared in me, but she said, “No news of yours yet, María Emilia. I’m sorry.”

  I sagged. At least I had met Tirzah. Maybe we could hang out together this week before school started. It would be great to practice English with her, and—

  My plans tumbled like a house of cards when I heard her say, “We’re leaving in an hour, Avó. I’ll see you next week.” She kissed her grandma and turned to leave. But then, as if she remembered I was standing there, hoping for a crumb of friendship, she turned around and said, “See you on the first day of school, María Emilia!”

  “Where are you going?” The words blurted out before I could stop them. I sounded so desperate, but how did the saying go? Desperate times call for desperate decisions, or something like that. I wanted to seem cool, but most of all, I didn’t want to be lonely.

  Donovan and Beto were already walking ahead, and Tirzah replied, “My family is going camping. I’ll be back the night before the first day of school. I’ll see you later!”

  She and the boys left before I could say anything else.

  Downcast, I got into the back seat and stayed quiet on the way to my future school. Papi and Montserrat talked about school buses.

  “I’ve always wanted to ride in one,” Mateo whispered to me.

  “It will be like in the movies,” Francisco added. “Right, Mimilia?”

  “Yes,” I said, and I wasn’t even lying.

  By the way things were going, I dreaded that, for me, school would be like a scary movie, but my brothers didn’t need to know that.

  My building was twice as big as the elementary school. The sign said Red Ledges Middle School.

  As we walked in, I wondered what middle meant. I’d expected it to be called a high school like I’d heard. Instead of the comforting smell of pencils and paper, there was an unfamiliar scent that I could only guess was old cafeteria food.

  I followed Mrs. Campbell and Papi closely. My brothers held on to my shirt as we walked through hallways full of people. There were posters and signs advertising chess, robotics, LEGO clubs.

  “What extracurricular activities would you like to do?” Papi asked me. “Something to do with music? Perhaps you could learn to play an instrument?”

  Although my parents had wanted my brothers and me to learn an instrument, our budget was stretched to the max with my English lessons, which they always picked for me first. This was a new possibility.

  I’d always liked the idea, but now a certain poster caught my eye. The school looked like those in the movies, and if there was anything I’d learned in twelve years of TV education, it was that the way to have more friends was to become a cheerleader.

  Visions of me in a cute uniform, waving pom-poms, flashed in my mind.

  “Cheer?” I said. “They sing for the school teams, right?”

  “That would be a fantastic way to meet people!” Mrs. Campbell said, and I felt proud of my decision.

  When we found the main office and saw it was packed with people, Mateo exclaimed, “Are you kidding me?” His words echoed everyone’s feelings.

  Mrs. Campbell said, “Why don’t I wait outside on the front lawn with the boys? I think I have a ball in the trunk of my car.”

  I breathed a sigh of relief.

  “You’re a lifesaver, Montserrat,” Papi said. “Thank you!”

  “My pleasure!” she said, and holding my brothers’ hands, headed out.

  I got in the back of the line while Papi picked out the right forms at the counter. I slowly printed what I knew and handed it to Papi for the parts I didn’t. By the time we finished, we were at the front.

  “Good afternoon,” said a woman with colorful glasses hanging from a chain on her neck. A little plaque on the counter read Cindy. “Let me see your forms.” She perched her glasses on the tip of her nose and scanned the papers. “Oh, honey,” she exclaimed in a sad voice. “I’m sorry. The cheer squad was selected last month.” Cindy frowned, but then she added cheerfully, “But there are way more options than cheer. You don’t have to make a decision today, okay?”

  “Okay, thanks,” I said, my visions vanishing in a puff.

  After making copies of my passport and vaccine records, she handed me a printout of my schedule and a gray T-shirt with the logo of a … ball of fire?

  “Here’s your schedule, love. Welcome to Red Ledges! We’re happy to have you as our newest Meteor!”

  “Meteor? That’s an original school mascot,” Papi said.

  While they dove into a detailed conversation about the tourists that came to the Utah desert to gaze at stars and other celestial bodies, I glanced at the schedule. My name was listed as María E. Soler. I tried not to let that bother me. But my stomach dropped when I saw the top of the paper said seventh grade.

  “Excuse me, Ms. Cindy,” I said, trying to sound as respectful as possible. “But there’s a mistake. I’m going into eighth grade … In Argentina, I was almost done with seventh! I’m supposed to be at the high school. And also, I already speak English.”

  “But according to your records, you haven’t had any US or Utah history, María. Here, students don’t switch to the high school building until tenth grade, anyway.” That’s what middle meant. It sure was starting to feel like being stuck in the middle. “And as far as ELL class, it’s policy for all our immigrant students to take it, no matter what level they’re at,” she said.

  Perhaps I was being a little disrespectful, but I slid my blue American passport toward her.

  She blinked a few times. “Technically you’re not an immigrant … but you’re still an English learner.”

  I turned to Papi so he’d intervene for me. “Repeat seventh grade?” I said a little too loudly. “I’ve never repeated anything in my life! I was at the top of my class back home.”

  Why was everything going wrong just for me? Was I wishing for the wrong thing over and over?

  Cindy started explaining to Papi that without a certificate that said I’d completed seventh grade there was nothing else she could do. I wanted to understand her, but right then, a cluster of girls stood behind us in line.

  “She has to repeat seventh grade,” one of the girls whispered to the others.

  I turned toward them to clarify the misunderstanding and came face-to-face with Ashley Jane Boden, my neighbor.


  “Hi, Ashley Jane!” I said, forcing a smile, but as soon as her name passed my lips, I cringed. The j had sounded more like a ch! I’d called her … chain. She didn’t look impressed.

  Before I could apologize, one of her friends pointed at me and asked, “Isn’t that your favorite shirt, AJ?”

  Another one added, “Who is she? Why is she wearing your shirt?”

  Ashley Jane—AJ?—glared at me. She shook her head and said, “That’s where my shirt is.” I looked at the T-shirt I’d been so grateful to have this morning, and I realized that the words were formed by dozens of people’s names. My eyes zeroed in on Ashley Jane Boden. This was a team shirt. My neighbor continued. “I can’t believe my mom would give it to you without asking me first. I should pay more attention to what she puts in the hand-me-downs box.”

  “My mom did that the other day,” her friend added. “It’s a bummer when they donate clothes to the poor without asking first.”

  Usually, Violeta wore the clothes I grew out of because I was a little chunkier and taller than she was. And I bought a lot of things secondhand because the situation in Argentina, especially after my mom lost her job, was really hard. But I’d never considered my cousin or myself poor. In my family we never lacked for anything, but for the first time I wondered if, compared to our neighbors in Red Ledges, we were poor.

  My parents had taught me that the value of a person can’t be measured by what they wore or what they owned. I’d never doubted before. But now, the way AJ and her friends looked at me, how they’d said hand-me-downs, I felt like I’d shrunk two sizes.

  “Why is she just looking at us?” one of them said. “Doesn’t she talk?”

  Ashley Jane threw her dark brown hair over her shoulder. “Don’t worry about her, Kel. She doesn’t really speak English.”

  They walked away quickly, pretending I wasn’t still standing there, clutching the meteor shirt close to my chest and rehearsing in my mind a million comebacks I didn’t know how to phrase.

  “Let’s go, María Emilia,” Papi said. “It’s all fixed.”

  Hope fluttered in my heart. “Am I going into eighth, then?”

  Papi shook his head. “No, mi amor. But it’ll be for the best. You’ll see.”

  Too disappointed to keep arguing, I followed him outside.

  I got into the car first, sulky, and Mateo and Francisco joined me in the back seat, sweaty, stinky, and happy from kicking the ball around with other kids their age. No. Not happy. They were exhilarated.

  “This has been the best day of my life,” Mateo said.

  Francisco added, “I love this country.” He sighed contentedly, waving goodbye to his new friends.

  Somewhere on the way from our new house to the middle school, the ground had opened up underneath my feet, swallowed me, and spit out a different version of me.

  My life was not the glamourous adventure I’d imagined. I’d had so many expectations, and my parents and Lela hoped for so many things from me, but I was already letting them down before school even started.

  I’d been born in the United States, and even though I spoke English, it still wasn’t good enough. If only my tongue and my lips would pronounce things the proper way, then maybe AJ wouldn’t hate me so much.

  As soon as we arrived at the house, I ran upstairs and took off the T-shirt that had been Ashley Jane’s. I felt like I’d stolen from her. I put on one of Mami’s shirts instead.

  I spent some time finally writing out a message to Violeta, about her shirt being missing in my lost luggage, the seventh grade/middle school news, and, most of all, Ashley Jane. I couldn’t wait for Violeta’s reply. I could picture her reaction! But imagining the expressions on her face made me miss her even more.

  When Mami came home from work, she had a radiant smile on her face. A coworker had helped her find an affordable car to buy.

  We’d never had a car before!

  “Hola, mi amor. How are you feeling? How was your day? And why are you wearing my one workout shirt? Didn’t you find anything you liked in the bag the Bodens brought?”

  I’d hoped to unburden my heart with her, tell her all about AJ and her awful friend Kel. About having to repeat seventh grade. But I didn’t want to ruin her day.

  “No. There was nothing that fit,” I lied. “I’m sorry for wearing your shirt, Mami. I’ll give it back once I’ve washed my one outfit.” My voice sounded way sassier than I’d intended, but it felt better than sadness.

  My mom pressed her lips, and after a deep breath, she brushed a hand over my hair and said, “No news of your luggage, eh? I know it’s hard, but a little more patience, mi amor.”

  Patience wasn’t my specialty. After the rice and meatballs Papi made for dinner, I sat by the window to watch for the airport shuttle that would bring me back my few possessions from Mendoza. If my life were a movie, this would be the part with the sad piano music.

  As the sun went down, my heart drummed painfully in my chest, chanting that Red Ledges Middle School was a big place to be in without a friendly face.

  The next few days went by with no sign of my lost luggage. Violeta wrote back, and we exchanged updates. I tried to write music as I watched for the airport shuttle out the window, but the lyrics that had come so naturally on the airplane sounded empty to my ears.

  Those who loved me, my family, were right next to me, but they weren’t facing the same mountain I was. As AJ and her friends played with my brothers in their front yard, I wished I had the courage to cross the street and ask those girls to give me another chance. If only Tirzah, Montserrat’s granddaughter, hadn’t gone on a trip!

  No wish on a shooting star could help me make friends before school started. I hadn’t even seen the little stray dog again although I’d waited for it by the willow tree every day. And every night, I missed little Estrellita’s warmth next to me.

  The boys spent the last day before school in the Bodens’ pool while I cooked to death in my attic room. That evening, Francisco asked, “How come you don’t sing anymore, Mimilia? Are you sad?”

  “I’m not sad!” I snapped at him, and he recoiled.

  I immediately wanted a do-over. I wasn’t sad, but I was worried and scared.

  “Why is she so mean?” Francisco asked Mateo.

  Mateo shrugged and whispered, “She’s almost a teenager. Leave her alone …”

  I hated that my brothers were scared of me. What had happened to me in just a few days?

  Not only had my life turned upside down, but I felt like I was a different person. One I didn’t really like. Worse, one my family didn’t like. How were other people going to like me if my own family couldn’t stand me?

  My brothers kept whispering about me, and I stomped back to my room to prepare my outfit for tomorrow. I figured that everyone would wear the meteor shirt on the first day, in an act of unity since there weren’t uniforms here. I absolutely refused to wear any of the clothes Mrs. Boden had given me, and my parents had seemingly given up on my luggage completely. So Mami had finally agreed to buy me a few things at Walmart. There was one in Mendoza, but it hadn’t sold cute shirts or jeans like this one. I might not have had friends, but at least I’d start school with nice-looking clothes that weren’t hand-me-downs.

  * * *

  My school’s first bell rang a whole hour earlier than my brothers’ and Mami’s first classes, at seven thirty a.m. I’d never attended morning school, and the night before I hardly slept a wink for fear of sleeping in.

  I shouldn’t have worried. My brothers were up at sunrise, too excited to stay in bed. As they and Mami finished getting ready, Papi snapped a few pictures to send Lela, and then he sent me off. From the window, he watched me as I headed to the school bus stop. I walked behind Ashley Jane and her friends the whole way. After one glance in my direction, they laughed like they’d seen the funniest thing in the world.

  Luckily the bus arrived quickly. Would it be like on TV, like I told my brothers? My heart sank when I realized no one else w
as wearing the meteor school T-shirt. Ashley Jane and her friends sat at the front, and I walked toward the middle where there was an empty row.

  Maybe the girls were laughing at my outfit. I tried to ignore them, but between my embarrassment, the chaos, and the odd smell, I wished they’d held me back two years instead of one. At least I’d be in the same school as my brothers.

  I spent the bus trip fantasizing that Tirzah and I were friends, gossiping together. I hoped to find her in my classes.

  When the bus arrived at school, the building loomed ominously even though the morning was a bright blue that contrasted against the red rock of the canyon. The temperature was already so high, I worried I’d get sweat stains under my armpits.

  Although I had my schedule in front of my eyes, the building was a big and crowded maze.

  When I found my math class, everyone was seated and the teacher was already reviewing the course objectives. She gave me a tiny nod while I tried to come up with an excuse for being late. But she didn’t stop talking, and I snaked around the edges of the room, trying to find an empty spot. I didn’t understand everything she said, but when I saw the material we’d be studying, I sighed in relief. I’d already gone over negative numbers and probabilities at school in Mendoza, so this class wouldn’t be so hard.

  After I’d calmed down enough to absorb my surroundings, I saw most of my classmates had calculators right there on their desks, out in the open, without even trying to hide them from the teacher.

  My heart jumped to my throat when I noticed Tirzah was in my class. To my surprise, she was wearing the school meteor T-shirt too, except hers had a sticker above the fireball. It was the head of an astronaut. No! Not a normal astronaut. A dog astronaut!

  When I was about to wave at her, the teacher called, “María Soler?”

  At first, I didn’t understand that she was calling my name because she’d put emphasis on the first syllable and added so much r-sound, making it sound like SOH-lerr. My last name wasn’t Solar! But when no one raised their hand, she looked at me and lowered her glasses to take a better look.