Free Casa Azul by Laban Carrick Hill

took a bite of a juicy tomato. Pulp spilled down her chin. “Oh, this tastes so good.” She sighed. She looked at Oswaldo and shrugged.
    He rolled back, laughing.
    “Oh, God is going to punish us,” Maria said, full of delight.
    “Follow me,” said Oswaldo as he suddenly jumped to his feet and headed down the street, leaving the food behind.
    “Where?” called Maria after him as she scrambled to pick up the discarded banana peels and apple cores to place in a garbage can. At this moment she felt so free of rules she would follow him anywhere.
    “Come on! It’s a surprise.” Oswaldo skipped a few yards. Thenhe hopped up on a wall and walked along the top as if he were a tightrope walker.
    “Let’s play follow the leader,” said Victor. He clambered onto the wall and did exactly what Oswaldo was doing.
    “Maria, don’t spoil the fun,” shouted Oswaldo.
    She stepped up onto the wall and followed them. “Where are we going?”
    “It’s a secret.” Oswaldo grinned.
    “I love secrets. Tell me. Tell me. I won’t tell anyone!” shouted Victor.
    “But then it won’t be a secret anymore,” replied Oswaldo. He waved them along. “Down here.” Oswaldo led Maria and Victor into a large building with a brass plaque on the front that read Ministry of Public Education. Inside the ministry were three stories of open hallways surrounding a huge courtyard, and each hallway was painted with a giant mural.
    “Holy cow!” gasped Victor. He was staring at a mural of Indians working the fields and mines. “This looks like home.” In another hallway the mural depicted a workers’ meeting. “This is a painting of the revolutionaries returning land to the
campesinos
,” said Oswaldo. The opposite hallway showed Indian children being taught in an open-air school.
    Oswaldo dashed across the courtyard and pointed to a giant of a woman with a large round body handing out rifles to the
campesinos
. “I’ve always thought this is what my mother looked liked.”
    As Maria caught up with him, she placed her hand gently on Oswaldo’s shoulder. “You never knew your mother?”
    “No. I don’t remember anything except Oscar,” explained Oswaldo.
    “Is he really your father?”
    “I’m not sure. He says he is, but sometimes I imagine that my real father is a rich man who has lost me and is looking for me.” Oswaldo paused. “And someday he will find me.”
    “Maybe he’s the great Diego Rivera!” shouted Victor suddenly.
    Oswaldo glanced at Victor and looked as if he was about to cry. Then he pushed Maria and ran through the courtyard toward the exit. On his way out, he grabbed the security guard’s baton and lightly whacked the guard on the butt. “You missing this?” he shouted, waving the baton as he dashed out of the building.
    “Hey!” shouted the guard, running after Oswaldo.
    “He can be such a pig!” said Maria with exasperation. Then she and Victor quickly followed. Without Oswaldo they’d be lost.

CHAPTER TWELVE
Wrestle Mania
    “P rograms!”
    Two huge spotlights swept the sky.
    “Hot tamales!”
    A mariachi band played traditional music. A dozen men dressed in traditional gaucho outfits played guitars and brass instruments. A woman in a beautiful, flowing red dress danced and sang.
    “Programs!”
    Crowds of sweaty people pressed toward the turnstiles at the entrance to the arena.
    “Popcorn!”
    Oswaldo hung back by the parking lot with Maria and Victor. They waited between two cars.
    A slight chill descended on the early evening. Maria wrapped her arms around herself and suddenly became self-conscious about her clothing. After two days of travel and living in the streets, her beautiful Tehuana costume was dingy and stained. She hadn’t combed her hair since she had left her village, and it was knotted and tangled.She held it back with a ribbon she had taken from the skirt of her costume. But the way Oswaldo looked at her made her insecurities disappear.
    As they waited, Oswaldo took