“She went dancing with some guy. She took them off. She forgot them. When she went back, surprise surprise, they were gone.”
I thought of Mima and her story of the stolen shoes. The shoes thing. Lots of tragedies in lost shoes. I kept shaking my head. “Let’s go.”
She gazed at the tennis bracelet again. “Maybe she lost it and some guy hocked it.”
“Really? Look, let’s just get out of here.”
On the way back home I kept thinking that the world was not only crazy, it was super crazy. Laptops and tennis bracelets and four-hundred-dollar shoes. Crazy. Nuts. I guess I was thinking out loud, because Sam said, “Four hundred bucks for a pair of shoes isn’t so crazy.”
“Too much money for shoes, Sammy. Did you know that when Mima was a girl, she only had one pair?”
“But that was the Stone Age.”
“You calling my Mima a dinosaur?”
“No, no, that’s not what I’m saying. The world was different back then; that’s all. Today four hundred dollars for a pair of shoes—?that’s nothing.”
“Well, all I can say is that I could do lots of stuff with four hundred bucks.”
“Like what?”
“I don’t know. Stuff. I mean, I’m not into buying things.”
“Are you trying to tell me you’re a cheapskate? I hate cheapskates.”
“I’m not a cheapskate. I just don’t care about money. And I guess I’m not into spending. And besides, my dad buys me everything I need. Well, some things I have to buy myself. I just don’t care. There something wrong with that?”
“Well, I’m way into spending.”
“Yeah, the whole world knows that. That’s why you never have any money.”
“Yeah, not like you, who hoards all his cash.”
“I don’t hoard it. I save it.”
“You have a bank account?”
“Yup.”
“How much money do you have?”
“Oh, I dunno, about four or five thousand dollars.”
“Holy shit!”
“I told you—?I don’t like to spend. When I get money from my uncles and aunts and Mima for my birthday and Christmas and stuff like that, I put it in the bank. And my dad gives me money when I need it. I keep some of it and put the rest in the bank. I mean, it adds up. I’ve been doing that since I was about five. Saving my money.”
“God, you’re a fucking old man.”
“Stop it. Look, if you want it, I’ll give it to you.”
“I don’t want your money, Sally.”
“I’m just saying I don’t care. I’ll give it to you.”
“You really would, wouldn’t you? You’d give me all that money?”
“Sure I would.”
“You are exasperatingly sweet.” She leaned over and kissed me on the cheek. “Too bad you’re not my type.”
“At this point it would be more like incest.”
She laughed. “I know. Yuck.” She gave me another one of her looks. “You are sweet,” she said. “But—”
“But what?”
“You don’t have to be sweet all the time.”
“Good, cuz I’m not.”
“But you beat yourself up over it.”
“Are you gonna be a therapist or a writer?”
“Whatever I’m gonna be, smart-ass, I’m always gonna be your best friend.”
Me and Sam and Maggie
I WAS SLEEPING WITH Maggie again. I heard Sam crying. Her room was right across the hall, and my door was open. So Sam was close. She was close and she was far. I couldn’t stand lying there listening to her soft sobs. Dad had told me it would be that way. Up and down and up and down with the emotions thing. I got out of bed. “C’mon, Maggie.” She followed me, and I opened the door to Sam’s room. “Go on, Maggie.” Maggie walked into Sam’s room, and I shut the door.
Sam needed Maggie more than I did.
Reading Faces
I WOKE UP REALLY early. It wasn’t so cold outside, even though it was late October. The weather had more or less returned to normal. El Paso was like that. I was surprised to find Sam sitting at the kitchen table.
“You look like crap,” I said.
“Thanks.”
“I have an idea, Sammy.”
“What?”
“Why don’t we start running every morning? You know, it would be good for us.”
“Really?”
“Remember how you were great at soccer?”
“I was great.”
“And you almost tried out for the track team. Except you said you didn’t like the coach. Maybe it would be good for us to get moving. Makes sense.”
Sam was thinking. I liked her thinking look. “You know, that sounds okay.”
“Just okay?”
“Why the hell not? Let’s do it.”
That’s how it all started, the running thing. Sam ran a little ahead of me. I thought maybe she was crying as she ran, but I thought that was a good thing. I mean, she had a lot to cry about.
When we got back home that Sunday morning from our first run, I smiled at her. We sat on the front steps of the porch and let our hearts slow down. “You know,” I said, “you don’t really look like crap.”
“I know,” she said. “It’s impossible for me to look like crap.”
Suddenly I saw a familiar figure walking up the sidewalk. “Is that you, Salvador?”
I studied his face for a minute. He hadn’t changed very much. He had salt-and-pepper hair, and the last time I’d seen him, his hair had been dark, with no sign of aging. But his face hadn’t changed. “Marcos?”
“You remember? God, you’re practically a man.”
“I’m practically lots of things,” I said. I don’t know why I said that. Sam was rubbing off on me.
He laughed.
“I thought you moved,” I said.
“I did. I moved back a few months ago. I live a couple of blocks from here, as a matter of fact.”
“Have you seen my dad?”
“No, no, I haven’t. Not yet, but, you know, I was taking a walk and thought I’d stop in and see how he was doing.”
Sam nudged me.
“This is Sam. Remember her?”
He nodded. “Yeah, I remember.” He smiled at her. “Still pretty.”
“Of course I am,” she said. “And I remember you, too. I don’t think I liked you very much.”
He really laughed at that one. “No, I don’t think you did.”
Sam was giving him a look. “You didn’t like going to the movies with us. That’s what I remember.”
“Well, I was never much for movies.”
Sam wasn’t buying it, I could tell. But, for whatever reason, she decided to be nice. “Well,” she said, “we were just kids. We were probably bratty.” She gave him a smile. She could charm when she wanted to, I’ll say that much for Sam.
That’s when my dad stepped out onto the front porch. I saw the look on his face when he looked at Marcos.
I didn’t quite understand the look.
I didn’t know if it was good or bad.
I’d never seen that look on his face before.
It was one of those awkward moments—?you know, one of those times you wish you could just sneak out of the room without anyone noticing. My dad seemed genuinely uncomfortable, and he didn’t do that often. He was the kind of guy who just took things in stride. My dad sort of cleared his throat and said, “So how are you, Marcos? It’s been a while.”
“I’m good,” Marcos said.
There was another awkward silence, so I nudged Sam. “Shower time.”
“Yup,” she said. “I smell bad.”
We went into the house and walked straight to my room. I shut the door.
Sam looked at me. “Do you think?”
“Do I think what?”