Maria’s hand in his.
Maria smiled back at him. Suddenly she wanted to kiss him. She had never kissed a boy before, and, impulsively, she wanted him to be the first. But she was too shy to actually act on it.
“You know,” Oswaldo said, “I lied to you yesterday.”
“You did?” replied Maria, pulling her hand away from his.
“
Sí
. I am only fourteen, not eighteen. Or at least that’s what Oscar tells me. I’m not really sure.”
“Is that all?” Maria laughed. She squeezed his hand. “I like fourteen-year-olds better than eighteen-years-olds, especially since I’m fourteen myself.”
All around, crowds of people dressed in their best clothes lined up to enter the arena.
“I can’t wait to see what it’s like inside,” said Maria. She tried to imagine what it looked like. “The largest building I’ve ever been in is the church in my village. And that can’t even hold the entire village!”
“It must hold a million people,” blurted Victor.
“Well, not quite, but close,” replied Oswaldo.
“I know we should be looking for Mama, but I wouldn’t have missed this for the world. This has been the best day of my life.”
Oswaldo beamed.
“The bus ride around the city was magical,” bubbled Maria. “And now we’re going to see the real El Corazón and El Diablo, not just adescription in the newspaper or illustrations in comic books.”
“I can’t wait to see El Corazón’s Flying Suplex in person,” Victor said excitedly as he smacked his fist into the palm of his hand.
“Hold on a minute,” said Oswaldo. “First we have to find tickets.”
“You don’t have tickets?” asked Maria, confused. “We don’t have enough money to buy tickets.” Her hopes of seeing a live wrestling match were quickly disappearing.
Oswaldo shot them a marvelous grin. “Don’t worry. This is where the fun starts.” He turned to Victor. “Hey, little fella, you think you could get us some tickets?”
Victor looked at his sister nervously. “I don’t know,” he said hesitantly.
“It’s easy. See that man in the red
guayabera
shirt?”
Victor nodded.
“He’s drunk, and his ticket is sticking out of his back pocket.”
They watched the hugely fat man staggering by a lamppost.
“But he has only one ticket,” objected Maria. “I don’t like stealing a ticket. Let’s come back when we have the money.”
“We only need one ticket,” explained Oswaldo, ignoring Maria’s objections. He put his arm around Victor. “The great Oswaldo can turn one ticket into three.” He slapped his chest proudly and then looked down at Victor. “Now, go on.” He pushed Victor out from behind the car.
Maria panicked. This wasn’t what she thought was going to happen. “Victor, get back here right now.”
Victor glanced at his sister and then at Oswaldo. “I can do this, Maria,” he said, scowling.
He ran across the parking lot and scooted up behind the drunken man. As the man staggered toward the arena, Victor reached out his hand and grabbed hold of the ticket. Just then the man reached back and clasped Victor’s wrist.
“Who is this?” The man spun around with amazing speed for someone so large.
“Victor!” screamed Maria. She turned to Oswaldo for help, but he looked frozen. Then he turned to her and said, “Sorry.” He ripped the silver-and-turquoise brooch off her blouse, and was gone. She could see the top of his head bob between the cars as he ran farther and farther away.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
A Good Deed
“H urry, Frida!” shouted Diego.
“I’m coming.” Frida stood in front of the mirror, adjusting an elaborate headdress to cover her shorn locks.
Delighted with Frida’s change of mood, Fulang sat on Diego’s shoulder. “This is going to be so good. I’m glad you thought of it.”
Diego patted Fulang on the head.
“How do I look?” Frida stepped into the living room wearing a traditional Tehuana costume and a headdress that looked as if it came out of a