No Second Chances (8 page)

“You bet you are, honey,” an ancient-looking woman called out from her walker right in the front row.

Santiago smiled at the crowd's reaction. “But what you don't know is that I have this new energy drink called Leafy Valley Mojo. My cousin and I sell it here at
la pulga
every Sunday. This drink will not only make you lose weight, but it will give you energy and virility — make you strong like a bull. The best part is that it's all natural — made with fruits and
veggies only the Rio Grande Valley can provide. It's an old family secret and for $5.99 per cup, it can be yours.”

“Stop jabbering and fight,” a kid yelled in Spanish.

Santiago grinned confidently at the audience. Then he gulped back the elixir in one go. The concoction sent a shock up and down his body like a bright bolt of electricity. When Santiago recovered, he turned to his opponent and smiled cruelly. Now the game would begin.

The bell clanged. Santiago jumped up and winked at his cousin. It was the sign for him to throw the match. Chubs stared back at him with a determined expression. Santiago took that as a good sign and reached out for his cousin's beefy arm. Santiago pulled and tugged, but his cousin wouldn't budge. “Dammit man,” he grunted under his breath. “Go down.” Chubs still didn't move, so Santiago decided to elbow him in the ribs. It produced a heavy grunt.
Santiago grinned. He may not be strong, but he did have bony elbows.

Chubs didn't react at all. How was Santiago supposed to win if his cousin just stood there like a cow in the center of the road?

Santiago climbed up on the ropes to the steel post — like he'd seen his heroes do countless times before on TV. He was going to pin his cousin down once and for all, he thought, taking a deep breath as he crouched down. Santiago jumped, catapulting himself up into the air like a missile toward his opponent. But Chubs twirled quickly out of Santiago's path. With a loud thump, Santiago hit the floor. It felt like he'd broken every bone in his body. Chubs hopped onto Santiago and pinned him to the floor.

“What do you think you're doing?” Santiago grunted, squirming like a fish out of water. His ribs were getting crushed under his cousin's weight.

“Dude,” his cousin hissed back. “El Payaso made me an offer.”

“So what, man? The two of us had a deal. You lose. I win.”

“But I don't want to lose,” Chubs said, in a quiet voice. “I want to win. El Payaso said he'd give me five hundred dollars.”

“What? Oh, hell no, man. We had a deal,” Santiago hissed.

“Five hundred dollars!” Chubs exclaimed. “That's a lot of money. Do you know how much I can buy with five hundred dollars? I could finally buy a big van like I've always wanted.”

“Chubs.” Santiago's heart started to race at the gravity of the situation. He had to convince his cousin to get off him now! “Chubs, this is not about you. This is about the business. If you want I could give you seven hundred dollars — after we get rich. Besides you already have that sweet ride.”

“It's my mom's.”

“But she lets you drive it whenever you want.”

The referee began to count out next to him.

“No!” Santiago cried, trying to squirm free. He was grateful for the olive oil he'd put on his arms and legs earlier. It made his skin greasy and gave him an extra inch of wiggle room. But his cousin dug down on his ribs with his elbows. The piercing pressure made his eyes bulge and his stomach want to hurl. Santiago felt tears sting his eyes. He could not let it end like this.

Then Chubs released a small chuckle. It was so soft, Santiago almost missed it. Was his cousin taunting him? He wondered as he slowly moved his fingers again over a tender spot along his cousin's torso. Chubs stiffened up. He gasped for breath, curling away from Santiago's fingertips, and laughed out loud. Santiago's eyes grew with understanding as he flexed his fingers and attacked him with tickle power.

“Stop! I give up!” Chubs cried, rolling into a ball.

The crowd jumped out of their seats. They were cheering at the top of their lungs. Santiago jumped onto his cousin, straddling him between his legs. Chubs shook under Santiago's weight. He tried to block Santiago's fingertips from reaching his ticklish spots. But his efforts were in vain. Santiago had a firm grip and he was not going to let go.

Santiago motioned to the referee to come over with the flick of his head. The balding man in the striped shirt stared at the scene. Never in all his years had he seen a
Lucha Libre
match won by tickling. The man glanced over his shoulder at Juan “El Payaso” Diamante. Santiago followed the referee's gaze. El Payaso was roaring with laughter and slapping his cowboy hat on his knee. Maria Elena sat next to him, her arms and legs crossed in a defiant manner and an angry scowl on her pretty face.
Santiago couldn't help but throw her a kiss. She flinched as if stung with a dart and ran to the closest exit. This seemed to amuse El Payaso and he laughed even louder.

The referee counted down. Chubs squirmed like a worm in the sunlight and Santiago held firm and tickled him some more. Suddenly, the bell clanged, the match was over, and he had won. The crowd was on fire. They were calling his name: “Puma! Puma!”

Santiago rushed over to his corner of the ring. Fabi and Milo cheered excitedly for him. He extended his hand out to Fabi. She blushed and passed the pitcher of Leafy Valley Mojo to him. He raised it over his head and the audience cheered even louder. Santiago had won the hearts of his new clients.

S
antiago raised the volume to the Spanish pop song on his truck radio as they unloaded to set up the smoothie stand the next day. He was feeling great and shook his hips as he sang the chorus. Alexis joined him, waving bundled leafy greens in the air like pom-poms. Fabi couldn't stop laughing as she arranged the table. She was relieved Santiago had won the wrestling match. Now, they each waited in anticipation for the crowds of thirsty customers to appear. Grandpa Frank had stayed home,
complaining of a bad back this morning. It was up to them to make this stand a success.

Alexis began to decorate the tables with curling branches and flowers she'd collected from the ranch while everyone else was loading the truck. She'd found a plastic floral tablecloth in the garage, and she spread it over the mixing station. Santiago liked it. It made the stand pop with color and the cloth hung down to the floor, creating an excellent hiding place for the food scraps.

Santiago glanced over at Fabi. She was busy arranging bunches of carrots in a wicker basket. “Well, at least this time Grandpa won't eat all the vegetables before the customers get here,” she teased.

Suddenly, she cursed loudly. Santiago did a double take because he wasn't used to hearing her talk like that.

“What's the problem?” Santiago asked, not wanting anything to ruin his good day. They had a lot to do this morning. He had even woken
up before dawn to get to
la pulga
before it opened in anticipation of all the new customers.

“We definitely have a thief here,” Fabi cried, pointing to the empty basket of carrots. “A thief who likes to eat carrots.”

Santiago raised the tablecloth and caught sight of a little boy's backside as he scurried away. In his hands dangled the purple carrots.

“I got this,” Santiago hollered over his shoulder as he vaulted over the table. The table moaned under the pressure and another leg cracked, thrusting Santiago to the floor. “Dammit,” Santiago cried. He couldn't hold back a small smile as he jumped up and patted his jeans clean.

“He's getting away,” Fabi shouted, pointing up the aisle.

“I can help,” Alexis volunteered.

“No,” Santiago said. Alexis lowered her eyes. “I need you to stay here and help Fabi. Customers are going to be here any second. I'll be quick.” He glanced down the aisle. “No one
steals from El Puma,” he cried, and turned to hunt down the carrot snatcher.

Santiago ran to the end of the walkway. People were filtering into
la pulga
. Families, couples, and mothers pushing strollers roamed up and down the row. He spun around quickly, worried that maybe he'd lost the kid. Suddenly, Santiago heard a commotion to his left. It sounded like an accident. A woman was yelling after a boy holding carrots.
That's him!
Santiago's eyes lit up. He took off behind a mound of used clothes and into the food court.

He caught sight of the carrot thief dodging customers like a crafty deer. A part of him admired the boy's agility. Santiago thought about turning back. If the boy wanted carrots badly enough to steal them, then maybe he deserved to have them. But then Santiago thought about his blossoming business. He couldn't afford to give up any more purple carrots. With this renewed resolve, Santiago increased his pace.

Suddenly, the boy stopped and turned back. Santiago ducked behind a red sofa, recognizing the boy. It was the kid from the wrestling match the night before. The little boy scanned the aisle behind him cautiously. Then he disappeared behind the restrooms.

Santiago crept around the concrete building slowly. He waited until he heard crisp crunching sounds. Then he jumped out screaming: “Aha! I caught you!”

However, the sight of two kids, even smaller than the thief, hungrily chomping at the carrots made him feel riddled with guilt. The kids jumped at the sound of Santiago's voice. They were about to run away when Santiago grabbed the thief by his jacket.

“Whoa, little man, where do you think you're going?”

He stared at Santiago, unable to speak or run. Santiago recognized their worry. It touched him in a strange way. They shouldn't be afraid of him, he thought. But then again, the boy did
steal and stealing wasn't okay — he should know. “Is that my carrot?” he asked.

“No,” the boy said in a hurried voice.

Santiago knew the kid was lying. Grandpa Frank was the only person in town who grew purple carrots. But how could he be mad at a kid who stole for his little siblings? He leaned down to the boy's eye level. “What's your name?”

“Angel.”

“Isn't that a girl's name?” Santiago asked, laughing.

The boy frowned, “No. It's a boy's name. It's my dad's name.”

Santiago quickly tried to recover. “Angel, all right. That's cool.” He glanced back to the boy's siblings. They had to be only about three and four years old. The two little kids stared wide-eyed at him, still clutching their carrots.

“They call me Junior,” he corrected.

Santiago nodded without listening. This little kid was a tough nut to crack, he thought. “You know stealing is not good. You're teaching your little brother and sister some bad habits.”

“What do you know about bad habits?” the boy asked in a challenging voice. “You don't know us. I'm sorry about the carrots. I don't have any money.” The boy emptied out his pockets. “You can call the cops if you want. I don't care.” The boy crossed his arms in front of his chest.

“Whoa,” Santiago said, raising his hands for him to calm down. “There's no need to get all testy, all right? You can have the carrots.” He glanced at the younger kids crouched down against the back of the restroom. “Where's your mom?” he asked, turning to scan the area. She was the one who should be ashamed of herself. How could she let these little ones go hungry? That was just wrong.

The boy stared down at his red Converse and kicked at the dirt.

“Is she here?”

He shrugged his shoulders. Santiago didn't know what to think. He couldn't let these kids go hungry. So the boy stole some carrots from him?
Everyone has a right to food,
Santiago thought. He kneeled down to look at the boy eye to eye. “Next time, just ask and I can have you do some stuff around the booth in exchange for food.”

“Really?” the boy asked, his face lighting up.

“Sure, little Angel.” Santiago smiled, ruffling the kid's hair.

The kid frowned, but then he gave in to Santiago's charm and shrugged the name change off. He thanked Santiago and then ushered his little brother and sister away from the restroom.

Santiago waited a moment, watching the children walk away. The image pulled at his heart. He ached to do something, but he didn't
know what. His mom would know what to do. She was a social worker. It was her job to help people. But he wasn't talking to his mom quite yet. Santiago decided to talk to Fabi, instead. She had good ideas about stuff like this.

He walked briskly back to his stand. It was probably out of control with customers fighting to place their orders right now. He smiled as he hurried down the path. However, when Santiago turned the corner to his row, he stopped dead in his tracks.

El Payaso's bodyguards were upturning crates and stomping vegetables on the floor of the stand. Alexis and Fabi were screaming for them to stop. They were each hanging from one of the first guy's arms like ornaments on a Christmas tree. But they were no match for the menacing men in black.

“What the hell are you doing?” Santiago cried, jumping in front of the other guy, trying to block him from further destruction.

The man told him in Spanish to move and without waiting for a response, shoved Santiago into the table, making the pyramid of oranges tumble to the floor.

“Stop!” Fabi called out, waving her arms in the air. “Please stop!” Tears streamed down her cheeks as she hurried to the ground and began to fill her T-shirt with oranges.

“Why are you doing this?” Santiago asked. They'd paid their fees. Why were they being harassed?

“Because I can,” a familiar female voice said from behind him. For a split second, Santiago closed his eyes and prayed for someone to wake him from this horrible dream. But when he turned and looked upon Maria Elena's evil grin, he knew he was trapped in some sick payback game of hers. Her jeweled hands sparkled as they rested on her full hips. Santiago took in her styled hair, professional makeup, skimpy outfit, and platform heels. She looked
like one of those glammed-up Bratz dolls — all plastic and no heart.

“Hey, baby.” Santiago tried to make his voice honey-sweet. “I'm sorry if I upset you the other day. I really am. But don't you think this is going a bit too far?”

“Too far?” Maria Elena asked, her voice full of rage. “I wanted them to cut off your fingers but …” She stopped as if pricked. “Daddy wouldn't let me.” The two bodyguards came to stand on either side of her like book-ends. Maria Elena smiled. “I decided to destroy something you care about instead — your stupid little smoothie stand.” She beamed triumphantly.

“That's not fair,” Fabi said, picking up a squashed melon from the floor. It oozed fleshy juice onto her shirt. “We have a right to be here like everyone else.”

Maria Elena started to laugh like a crazy person. It raised the hairs on the back of
Santiago's neck. “My daddy owns the land, but it's in my name, so technically I own it.” She paused a moment to let her words sink in. “You” — she poked Santiago hard on the chest — “are a no-good, lying cheater. I don't want you or your stinking cousins, or your precious business at my
pulga
, you hear me?” Santiago stared in shock. “I'm going to make it so you never do business anywhere in Dos Rios ever again.”

“You're insane,” Santiago said, stepping away from Maria Elena. Her expensive perfume was making him dizzy.

“Well, this
pulga
sucks anyway,” Alexis cut in, leaping ahead of Santiago. Fabi tried to pull Alexis back, but she shook her arm free. “And it doesn't even have a decent hair salon. The Brownsville
pulga
is so much better.”

“Oh, yeah,” Maria Elena said, stepping up to challenge Alexis. “That's pretty big talk for a girl who's about to get beat.”

Santiago worried for Alexis. She wasn't strong like Fabi, who carried heavy plates of fajitas six days a week, nor was she mean like Maria Elena, who hired muscle to do her dirty work so she wouldn't break a nail.

“Ladies, stop,” Santiago said, sliding in between them. “You win,” he said to Maria Elena, “I'll leave.” Fabi and Alexis protested behind him. Santiago motioned for them to be quiet. “You can have your stand. You can have your
pulga
. But you'll never have my love.”

“What did you say?” Maria Elena's voice cracked as tears welled up in her eyes.

“You heard me,” Santiago said. “I will never love you.” He motioned to Fabi and Alexis to load up the truck. His cousins nodded in agreement and began to pile the remaining vegetables and fruits into crates. Santiago grabbed the blender in one arm and the tip jar in the other and walked over to his truck. Maria Elena called out to him.

“Come back here.” Her voice shot up in alarm. “Santiago! I'm not done talking to you. Don't walk away from me. This is still my
pulga
and while you're on it, you have to do what I say. Santiago!”

Santiago didn't respond. He gathered fruit from the ground and tossed it into the flatbed as he tried to tune out Maria Elena's rant. There was a big hole in his heart, but it wasn't for Maria Elena. The smoothie stand was his baby. It pained him to see the torn piece of aloe on the ground. How could she have so little respect for food? he thought. Some people had nothing to eat. Little Angel stole to feed his siblings and this girl thought that this food, the stand, and his dreams were all a joke.

“You don't really mean that,” Maria Elena said behind him. Anxiety filled her voice. “Santiago? Remember when you told me you thought I was the prettiest girl in the Valley?” She huffed loudly. “Fine. You can have your stand. I didn't mean for you to leave. I was just
mad. But I'm not anymore. You can stay, okay? Santiago?”

Santiago continued to pack up and ignored her. Fabi and Alexis didn't wait around to see what Maria Elena would do next and jumped in the truck. Santiago started the engine just as Maria Elena began to scream “sorry” at the top of her lungs. She ran up to the driver's window and begged Santiago to stop and talk to her. When he wouldn't respond, Maria Elena turned to her goons and told them to do something. Santiago took off down the path and out of the Dos Rios
pulga
.

“Whoa,” Alexis said, shaking herself. “That was crazy. Talk about a Llorona.”

Fabi glanced sideways at her cousin. “You actually dated
her
?”

Santiago buried his hurt and put on a smile for Fabi. “I used to like the crazy ones.” He shrugged.

“I think you should find yourself a boring girl, for a change.”

“Yeah,” Alexis teased. “One that has glasses and reads books.”

Santiago forced himself to laugh as he turned at a light. He knew they meant well. But Maria Elena had killed his smoothie business. The full weight of what just happened hadn't quite hit him yet.

“Hey, what are we going to do with all the food?” Fabi asked. “We don't want it to go to waste.” She crossed her arms in front of her chest, thinking. “I guess we could try and convince my dad to let us sell smoothies at the restaurant.”

Alexis rolled her eyes. “Yeah right, like Dad's going to let you walk in and change the menu.”

Suddenly, Santiago spotted a little boy walking away from the pulga with two smaller kids, hand-in-hand. He recognized the boy's red Converse and instantly knew what he wanted to do with all the food.