Free When Dad Came Back by Gary Soto Page B

swung the puppy into his arms and began to walk away, then trot, with the afternoon sun on his back. The puppy's ears flopped with each step.
    Gabe hadn't gone far when he saw wheeling shadows in front of him—both of the vampire gangsters were on their bikes, trailing him. From a distance, someone might have thought they were friends off to the playground. But they were neither friends nor enemies. Gabe just had the bad luck of stopping in front of their house.
    One of the vampires slapped Gabe on the back of his head as he rode by.
    â€œFool, what are you doing on our street?” the vampires snarled. He circled back.
    Gabe was dead meat. He stopped, head down and peering into the eyes of his puppy, who was breathing hard, though Gabe was the one who had been trotting, the one who had exhaled his fear with each step. The vampire gangsters circled and then came to a stop in front of him.
    â€œMy bro asked you a question, fool,” the slim vampire roared. He had grills in his mouth, which was red. Gabe could tell it was only the red from a Jolly Rancher, not from sucking blood.
    â€œI didn't hear you,” Gabe lied.
    The two vampires looked at each other and smirked.
    â€œYou smell,” the chubby vampire growled. “Say, ‘I smell like a pedo .’” He nudged the front tire of his bike against Gabe's shin. He spat.
    â€œSay what?” Gabe asked as he stepped back. His sweat began to create a funky smell called fear.
    â€œSay, ‘I smell like a pedo .’ A cheesy fart!”
    Gabe couldn't. He clamped his mouth shut. He lowered his head again and only stepped back when the chubby vampire nudged the tire against his shin, this time roughly.
    â€œCome on, man, say it!”
    Gabe unlocked his mouth. “You mean you smell like a pedo,” Gabe said. He took a step back. He wished he had bitten his tongue off.
    â€œWhat you say!” the built vampire roared, his chest rising. His eyes flashed, like scissors in a crazy person's hands. He pushed Gabe.
    Gabe staggered backwards, the puppy whimpering in his arms. He winced when the chubby vampire rammed the bike against his shin. That hurt, and so did the slap on the side of his face.
    â€œYou know what respect is? You know how to show it?”
    The vampire suddenly lifted his eyes, as if he were watching the flight of a child's balloon. It wasn't a balloon but a shadow, and the shadow had a thundering voice.
    â€œWhat you doin’?” the voice boomed.
    For a second, Gabe wondered if a third vampire had arrived to get some of the action. But he was wrong. When he turned, he recognized the brother from near the Rescue Mission, the man who wore the sombrero on his small Afro. God, it seemed to Gabe, had sent one of his biggest angels to help out. He was shirtless, rippled with muscle, and stern.
    â€œI said, ‘What you doin’?’” the brother asked the vampires. “You jackin’ up my friend?” He hooked a thumb at Gabe. “We go way back. Huh, amigo?”
    Gabe nodded like a bobblehead.
    The two vampires, straddling their bikes, backpedaled. They had nothing to say. With the air in their pumpedup chests slowly leaking out, they weren't so big after all. They slowly glided away. They had come out too early to mess with people.
    â€œAh, man, thanks,” Gabe sighed. He shook the front of his T-shirt, sweaty from fear.
    â€œI see what's happenin’. Those little cholos going to the grave real early.” The brother petted the puppy, smiled a golden smile, and said he'd just had a marvelous piece of luck. A rich guy needed some muscle to clear out a garage. He patted his pocket and said, “Got me forty dollars and a pair of new socks.” He pulled up his pant cuffs and shared the glow of white socks before he continued down the street.
    Gabe had no doubt about the existence of God. No telling when, at the hottest hour of the day, He might send an angel earthward, disguised