man headed home.
Just as I was about to ask who Julián was, Mathias leaned over with a sly smile. “Told you the tree wasn’t yours.”
ELEVEN
S itting under the tree with a friend was different from being with Papá or being alone. The air felt charged with possible adventures … all of them real, not imaginary. Over the years, my tree had taken on the role of an old piece of furniture, like my bed … something familiar and comfortable. But now it was as if I’d put a different bedspread on it, making it new again.
“There.” He pointed to the three small stacks of coins that were on the ground between us. “The first one covers what you said was the cost of the sardines, and the other two are our profit. I split it evenly, if you want to check.”
“ Vale , I believe you,” I muttered, stroking the satin pouch in my pocket.
“What are you doing?” Mathias asked.
I whipped my hand out. “Nothing,” I said.
“C’mon, what do you have in there? Is it a lucky charm or something? A rabbit’s foot?”
“Ugh! No.” I crinkled my nose at the idea of having anactual rabbit’s foot in my pocket. I reached in and pulled out the blue satin pouch to show him.
He scooted closer to me to see. “So, what’s in it?” he asked.
I untied the little rope around the top and pulled out my secret treasure. “My father gave it to me.”
“ ¿Una bellota? He gave you an acorn?”
“It’s not just any acorn. It’s the one we’re going to plant together when the war is over so that I’ll have my own tree.”
Mathias smiled and tilted his head. “I was just bothering you about that whole not-your-tree thing.”
“I know,” I said, standing up for a moment to tuck the pouch back into my skirt pocket. “But this one holds a promise.”
“What do you mean?”
“It’s a long story … one I made up when I was younger.” I sat down in front of him, excited to share one of my stories. “It’s about a princess who’s able to return home because of an acorn that—”
Mathias leaned back against the tree trunk. “Ha! You see? I knew you had royal blood in your veins. That’s why I called you princess,” he teased.
I gave him a scowl. “If you don’t want to hear the story …”
He nudged me gently with his leg. “I’m just foolin’. Go on.” He closed his eyes.
I stayed quiet.
A few seconds passed, and he opened one eye to look at me. “Aren’t you going to tell me the story?”
“Nope. Not anymore I won’t.”
“Fine, it probably wasn’t that good.”
“Oh no, it was really good … but you’ll never know.”
He shook his head. “Girls,” he muttered.
I stared up at the leaves overhead. “So, how do you know the Garzas?”
“Long story.” He paused for a moment, relishing our switch in roles, but when I didn’t react, he continued. “Garza and my grandfather fought together during the Great War. When we moved here, my father went to see him.”
“That’s it?” I asked.
“Um.” He paused. “Yeah.”
“Wow.” I widened my eyes in fake surprise. “That was a long story.”
“Funny.” Mathias’s gaze dropped down to his feet. “Thing is, when we got there, we found out his daughter and son-in-law had died and his grandson had polio.… They’d gotten it a while back during the epidemic in Madrid.”
“Polio?” I grimaced. “Can’t you catch that?”
Mathias shrugged. “He’s not contagious anymore. Plus, it’s not gonna hurt me anyway.… I already had it.”
I looked over at his leg. “Is that why you use the makila ?”
Mathias nodded. “The poor kid has it really bad, though. He can’t walk at all.”
“How old is he?” I asked, thinking about my brother who’d died.
“Seven. But don’t get me wrong, he’s plenty tough.”
“It’s nice that you visit him.” I rolled on my stomach to watch a small black ant climb up and over one of the tree roots sticking out of the ground.
“Yeah, he gets bored living on a farm