Return To Sender Part 5

Now you are in the hands of Homeland Security and your deportation hearing is next week. I know that this part is not welcome news as it means more waiting without knowing your fate. But at least the judge asked that the process be "expedited," which means rushed, so you can get on with your life.

"Are you married, young man?" the judge asked you. "Do you have children?"

You seemed unsure why the judge wanted to know such personal information. But you shook your head and explained that you had been working since you were a boy helping your parents and six sisters and brothers. You hadn't had any time to court a girl, much less marry one and have kids.

"I hope your tio tio didn't tell them about Wilmita," Papa said. I love it when he makes a joke. Usually, he is so sad and hardly talks at all. "Maybe now in prison, Tio Felipe will have the free time to court this didn't tell them about Wilmita," Papa said. I love it when he makes a joke. Usually, he is so sad and hardly talks at all. "Maybe now in prison, Tio Felipe will have the free time to court this americana," americana," Papa added. Last Sat.u.r.day, the Papa added. Last Sat.u.r.day, the patron's patron's younger son said their visiting was cut short as another visitor had also signed up to share your hour. younger son said their visiting was cut short as another visitor had also signed up to share your hour.

His mother and your lawyer and our Spanish teacher were all very surprised, as they thought they were the only ones you knew in this area besides your family, who can't visit you for reasons I won't go into.

When they came downstairs, they found the second reason you must be very happy. The mystery visitor waiting to go up was an American girl, about the older son's age, who spent last summer working in an orphanage in Mexico, so she speaks a whole bunch of Spanish.

I asked the patron's patron's younger son what she looked like. He shrugged. "Normal." younger son what she looked like. He shrugged. "Normal."

That was no help at all. So I had to go piece by piece: What color is her hair? Is she tall? Short? Is she thin?

But it was hard to fit all his piecemeal answers into a whole picture. Finally, I gave up and just asked, "Is she pretty?"

The son shrugged again and said he didn't know!

But then when the older son came for the weekend to pick up his car that his parents are finally going to let him take back to school, he dropped in for a visit. So Tio Armando asked him if this girl was bonita. bonita.

"Muy, muy bonita," the son said. "A real knockout!" the son said. "A real knockout!"

Knockout? I know from the lucha libre lucha libre fights my uncles watch on TV what a knockout is, but it doesn't sound like something you'd want a girlfriend to do to you. fights my uncles watch on TV what a knockout is, but it doesn't sound like something you'd want a girlfriend to do to you.

The son was laughing. "Muy, muy caliente!" "Muy, muy caliente!"

Very, very hot?! Knockout?! Why doesn't this older son speak regular English or Spanish? Isn't he supposed to be in college? But my uncle and Papa seemed to understand because they couldn't stop laughing.

So even if you are deported to Mexico, Tio, this girl already knows her way to Mexico and can visit you in Las Margaritas. It should be a lot more fun than visiting you in jail.

Buena suerte and good luck, and good luck, Mari 4 febrero 2006 Querido Tio, Candlemas came and went and I didn't throw my party as you still are not free. Your deportation hearing was yesterday, but it won't be until next week that you will be on your way to Mexico.Papa says that once we get the call from Las Margaritas that you have arrived, we should invite the patron's patron's family and your lawyer and our Spanish teacher and her gringo and the grandma for a special meal to thank them for all the ways they have helped us during this difficult period. family and your lawyer and our Spanish teacher and her gringo and the grandma for a special meal to thank them for all the ways they have helped us during this difficult period.I know I should be happy that you are finally going home, but it is not very welcome news for my sisters and me.Without you, who will make us laugh, Tio? And we could sure use your help right now as Papa has made a new rule: only Spanish TV in this house.It started when Ofie announced that she was not moving to Mexico. This came up when you were caught and Papa was preparing us for the eventuality that we might all be deported.Papa seemed to be waking up from a long dream that started eight years ago when he and Mama and I came to this country. His shoulders slumped as if he were carrying a heavy load.The very next morning, Ofie asked, "Papa, necesito dinero necesito dinero for my lunch for my lunch porque hoy sirven porque hoy sirven grilled cheese sandwiches." grilled cheese sandwiches."Papa was on his way out the door to start milking. He stopped in his tracks. "En espanol," "En espanol," he reminded her. He already knew that Ofie wanted money to buy her lunch instead of taking leftover tortillas and beans. But he wanted her to ask him in Spanish. he reminded her. He already knew that Ofie wanted money to buy her lunch instead of taking leftover tortillas and beans. But he wanted her to ask him in Spanish.Ofie folded her arms and stood her ground. "I'm American. I speak English."Papa gave her several slow nods. "Bueno, americanita, tendras que comprar tu almuerzo con tu propio dinero." "Bueno, americanita, tendras que comprar tu almuerzo con tu propio dinero.""That's not fair," Ofie cried. "Why should I buy lunch with my own money that I already spent!" The little American girl had understood every word of Papa's Spanish!Papa put on his no comprendo no comprendo face that he wears when an American approaches him speaking a mile a minute. He finished zipping up his jacket and walked out the door. That night, when he and Tio Armando returned from the evening milking, he turned the TV to a Spanish channel. face that he wears when an American approaches him speaking a mile a minute. He finished zipping up his jacket and walked out the door. That night, when he and Tio Armando returned from the evening milking, he turned the TV to a Spanish channel. "Se termino la television en ingles," "Se termino la television en ingles," he announced. No more English or Spanglish in the house. We had to practice our Spanish. he announced. No more English or Spanglish in the house. We had to practice our Spanish.What an outcry from Ofie! Luby, who always starts crying when someone else does, joined in. Off they both went in a huff to our bedroom. I followed to counsel and comfort them. I guess by now with Papa always telling me I'm the little mother, I have become one."I have an idea," I proposed. "Why don't we all try speaking just Spanish for a few days.""But we're American," Ofie countered."n.o.body can tell us what to do." Luby added her two cents she'd borrowed from Ofie.Not a good start. "You are are Americans," I agreed, trying a different tack. "But remember, America is the whole hemisphere, north and south. We are Americans," I agreed, trying a different tack. "But remember, America is the whole hemisphere, north and south. We are all- all-American! Raices mexicanas y flores norteamericanas." Raices mexicanas y flores norteamericanas." I made believe I had a bouquet of flowers, with Mexican roots and North American flowers. I took a whiff and offered them each a little invisible bunch. They giggled. I made believe I had a bouquet of flowers, with Mexican roots and North American flowers. I took a whiff and offered them each a little invisible bunch. They giggled.Finally, they were listening. As you used to say to me, Tio, I would make an excellent lawyer because I know how to move the heart with words-if only I were bolder."Bueno?" I asked. "How about it?" I asked. "How about it?"Luby looked over at Ofie, who nodded reluctantly. "Okay," she agreed."You have to say de acuerdo," de acuerdo," Luby reminded her. Luby reminded her."I'm not starting till tonight," Ofie snapped. She always has to have the last word. Maybe she she should be the lawyer! should be the lawyer!So that night we had our first all- Spanish supper in a long time. Only once did Ofie mess up. "Please pa.s.s the milk," she asked Papa.Papa had picked up the jug, but now held it in the air, waiting for Ofie to correct herself."I mean, por favor, pasame la leche. por favor, pasame la leche. " "Papa laughed and pa.s.sed her the milk. I guess he decided to allow Ofie two words in English!And, Tio, I think my plan is working. Already, Papa says that this weekend, Ofie and Luby can watch their cartoons in English, provided they switch the channel to Spanish during commercials.By the way, while we were eating our supper en espanol, en espanol, the telephone rang. It was the visitor Papa and Tio Armando are already calling your girlfriend. She was calling to tell us that she is going to Chiapas during her spring vacation. If we want to send anything to our family, she will carry it down for us. Right away we asked if she would take your Wilmita. She hesitated until we explained Wilmita was your guitar. the telephone rang. It was the visitor Papa and Tio Armando are already calling your girlfriend. She was calling to tell us that she is going to Chiapas during her spring vacation. If we want to send anything to our family, she will carry it down for us. Right away we asked if she would take your Wilmita. She hesitated until we explained Wilmita was your guitar."In that case, sure!" She laughed. "I thought one of you sisters wanted me to sneak you across."On Candlemas Day, I asked the grandma about the groundhog, if he had seen his shadow or not. "I'm afraid he did, dear. As they say, if Candlemas is bright and clear, there'll be two winters in the year. So we've got some more winter left."I didn't need the groundhog to tell me that. Just the fact that you won't be coming home means that winter will be with us for a long time.That same night, we lit candles, and Papa and Tio Armando told us how back in Las Margaritas on Candlemas the priest blessed all the seeds for planting in the spring. "It was always a time of looking forward to the promise of the future," Papa reminded us. "Not anymore," he muttered bitterly.But I am looking forward to something in the future: seeing you again, Tio. Until then, I will be like that groundhog and crawl back into the hole in my heart to sleep out the long and lonesome winter of your absence.

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo,from Lubyxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo,from Ofiexoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo,from me!

FARM FOR THE LOST & FOUND.

When Tyler asks the Cruzes what they think of their first Vermont winter, they just shake their heads as if there isn't a word in Spanish for how cold it gets in Vermont in winter. In cla.s.s, when Mr. Bicknell talks about global warming, Mari's eyebrows shoot up.

"Maria?" Mr. Bicknell calls on her, guessing she has a question.

But Mari just looks down, too shy to speak up. Later, she asks Tyler how it can be getting warmer when it's gotten so cold outside.

"It's not that cold, Mari!" Tyler tells her how some years the temperature has gone down to thirty below zero. "Gramps used to have to wipe off the cows' teats or else the milk would freeze where it dripped."

Now they both look down shyly. For some reason Tyler can't quite figure out, talking about certain body parts with a girl has become embarra.s.sing. Even if the private body part in question happens to be on a cow.

Maybe it's because he's about to turn twelve, which ac-cording to Ben is the beginning of adolescence, when all a boy can think about is girls. Tyler's twelfth birthday will be on March eighth, which Mom says is real special as that's International Women's Day. "Best gift I could have given myself, a wonderful, enlightened young man."

Tyler doesn't know about enlightened, but being born on a girls' holiday isn't exactly something he's going to be bragging about anytime soon. Even if he will soon be an adolescent with a mind supposedly wallpapered with girls.

The day before his birthday is town meeting day, which Tyler has learned in social studies cla.s.s is something special about Vermont. Once a year, every town in the state meets to talk over and vote on stuff like the school budget and what all needs doing in town: a road to pave, a sign to put up, a new fire-truck hose to buy. A lot of towns hold their meetings at night so that folks who have to work can come. This year Mr. Bicknell gives his cla.s.s the a.s.signment of attending town meeting and writing a report about it.

Tyler and Mari ride in with Mom and Dad. Grandma has already gone ahead, as she and some of her church friends have made a large sheet cake and cookies and punch to raise money for their youth group trip this year.

Up in the front seat, his parents are complaining about some old guy who always writes letters to the editor. This time his letter was about how a church group shouldn't be allowed to peddle their refreshments at town meeting, as this country believes in separation of church and state. "Grandma sure found her way around that one!" Mom is saying.

Tyler's grandma and her friends agreed not to put up any sign that they were from the church. But in the icing of her sheet cake Grandma traced a church, then stuck a little American flag atop the steeple.

"We're going to be eating a lot of cake this week," his father notes, looking in the rearview mirror at Tyler.

"That's right, Tiger," his mom adds. "Any further thoughts on what you want for your birthday?"

It's a little late to be asking, Tyler feels like saying. Plus his mom already knows. Tyler really wants to go on the field trip to Washington, D.C., that his 4-H club is planning for spring break. But the total cost is close to five hundred dollars, which is more than Tyler is likely to rake in from all the birthday checks he's counting on.

"I know you want to go to Washington," his mom adds when Tyler doesn't speak up. "But, honey, we just can't swing that kind of money right now." She doesn't have to add that Dad's medical bills have stressed the family's budget. Dad feels bad enough as it is. "Maybe we can all go later. Drive down together, camp out-what do you think?"

No, thank you, Tyler thinks. If you strip everything from the 4-H field trip, what have you got left? A family vacation cramped in the backseat with an older brother who doesn't want to be there and a sister complaining she's carsick.

"Never mind," he says grumpily.

"Well, if you think of something else," his mother says cheerily like she doesn't really care. Tyler's birthday wish is just one more item she can now cross off her to- do list.

"I don't want anything else," Tyler grumbles.

Mari looks over worriedly. She and her sisters have been insisting on getting Tyler a gift for his birthday. Tyler couldn't very well ask them for a check. They don't even have a bank account, according to his mother. "I thought you wanted that Red Sox sweatshirt?" she whispers.

"I do from you guys," Tyler says quietly.

Town meeting is being held in their school lunchroom. It's so strange to see all these grown- ups where kids usually sit. The chairs are lined up to face a platform up front, the tables pushed to the other end. At one of these tables, Grandma and her friends are serving up the last of the refreshments. Most of the cake is gone, so if the old fellow happens by, all he'll see is a little American flag flying forlornly above the crumbly remains.

Mom and Dad are detained time and again, saying hi to neighbors, so Tyler and Mari head for a section where some cla.s.smates are already sitting.

Before the meeting starts, Mr. Bicknell motions for Tyler to come out in the hall. It turns out the Boy Scout who was supposed to carry in the flag at the beginning of the program got a last- minute stomachache. Could Tyler take his place and lead the a.s.sembly in the Pledge of Allegiance? It's not like Tyler has a choice when his teacher asks him to help out in an emergency. Tyler's just glad that the request came right before the meeting, or he, too, would have had a last- minute stomachache all week long.

On his way back from picking up the flag at the princ.i.p.al's office, Tyler steps into the bathroom. He wants to be sure he doesn't have some cowlick sticking up in the back of his head or his shirt b.u.t.toned up wrong. As he's heading out, he spots a folded- up wad just this side of one of the stalls. It's a bunch of money held together with a thick rubber band. Eight crisp one-hundred-dollar bills and sixty- some dollars in smaller bills! Except for when he's playing Monopoly, Tyler has never held this much money in his hands before. And these bills are real.

His first thought is he'll have to report the find so Mr. Bicknell can make an announcement. No one from Tyler's school walks around with this kind of money. It has to belong to someone here for town meeting. Maybe some farmer drove into town and ran some errands, including a stop at the bank's ATM, before heading for the school.

But Tyler has never known any farmer with this much money in his pocket. This is the kind of money that criminals carry around. Probably, the wad belongs to some drug dealer preying on kids who don't know any better. Which makes it dirty money, which Tyler would do well to keep out of cir-culation.

Besides, there's no wallet, no name, no nothing.

And there's a trip to Washington, D.C., dangling like a carrot on the other side of this choice.

Tyler stuffs the wad in his pocket, telling himself that tomorrow, once he's officially an adolescent, he'll be able to see clearly the fine line between right and wrong that's totally blurred right now. After all, in a few minutes, he has to march up in front of a room full of people, holding a flag with a steady hand, and lead them in saying the Pledge of Allegiance.

Tyler picks up the flag on his way out of the bathroom. For some reason, it feels a lot heavier than it did before, as if a huge stone has been tied to the bottom of the pole.

After the excitement of standing center stage, all eyes on him, Tyler wishes he could be excused. The meeting drags on. Should the town paint new crosswalks or go ahead and bite the bullet and spend a lot more money putting in long-lasting, attractive brick walkways? Should the athletic teams get new uniforms or make do for another year even though the student body voted to change the school colors from maroon and orange? Who wants to look like leaf season all year long? The motions get seconded, discussed, voted on. But all Tyler can think of is the money in his pocket. What should he do?

Beside him, Mari is scribbling away in her notebook. Tyler better pay attention. After all, he can't just write a report about the first two minutes of town meeting, when an upstanding young man led the a.s.sembly in a rousing rendition of the Pledge of Allegiance.

But can Tyler really be considered an upstanding young man if he keeps the money?

Tyler feels confused. It's as if he's lost in some dark wood inside his own head. Seems like a lot of his treasured ideas and beliefs have gone into a tailspin recently. It used to be he knew exactly what was right, what was wrong, what it meant to be a patriot or a hero or a good person. Now he's not so sure. Take his dad, who has to be the most patriotic American Tyler has ever known. But even Dad has had to employ Mexicans without papers to keep his farm. Tyler himself has gotten so attached to the Cruzes that he has even offered to hide them if Homeland Security comes on the premises!

Just a few weeks back, Mari told him how her uncle Felipe was a kind of hero to her family. "He ran away away from the farm so as not to lead the police to the rest of us," she explained. But doesn't that make him a fugitive, not a hero? According to Mari, Felipe is back in Las Margaritas, but already planning to return to keep helping Abuelote and Abuelota and the whole family. Tyler can't help feeling glad at the thought that his favorite of the three workers might be coming back, even though he knows full well that Felipe doesn't have a legal right to be in this country. from the farm so as not to lead the police to the rest of us," she explained. But doesn't that make him a fugitive, not a hero? According to Mari, Felipe is back in Las Margaritas, but already planning to return to keep helping Abuelote and Abuelota and the whole family. Tyler can't help feeling glad at the thought that his favorite of the three workers might be coming back, even though he knows full well that Felipe doesn't have a legal right to be in this country.

"It's treason's what it is!" An old man's angry voice breaks into Tyler's thoughts. "And it's disgraceful how it's happening right here under our very noses and even our law enforcement people are turning a blind eye to it!"

The old man is standing in the first row, waving his cane. People on either side of him are pulling away. The old guy should actually be using that cane to lean on, since he looks like he's about to keel over with fury.

"Sit down, Mr. Rossetti!" somebody calls out. "You're out of order."

Mr. Rossetti. That's the old guy who wanted to veto Grandma's church group's selling refreshments! The very same fellow who always drives up Mom's blood pressure when he has a letter in the local paper. Every time Mr. Ros-setti writes in, it's to criticize one thing or another the young people are doing to America. Since he looks to be about ninety years old, "young people" must refer to most of the folks living in town, if not sitting in this room right now.

"We got laws in this nation and anyone hiring illegals ought to be put behind bars. And I can start naming names if the sheriff's ready to write them down."

Tyler can feel the sweat breaking out all over his body. What if Mr. Rossetti mentions Dad's name? Tyler will be shamed not only in front of the whole town, but in front of all his cla.s.smates as well. Wherever Clayton and Ronnie are sitting, they must be gloating! Tyler glances up quickly, checking the rows around him. But it's Mari who catches his eye. On her face is the same stricken look as that time at Grandma's house when she overheard Uncle Larry talking about a raid.

"So I want to put a motion forward that says anyone who's not here legally needs to be rounded up."

The room is deathly still. Up onstage, Roger Charlebois, who's leading the meeting, asks in a croaky voice, "Anyone want to second that motion?" Everyone knows that Roger has a half- dozen Mexicans working on his dairy farm.

A voice comes from somewhere in the middle of the lunchroom. "I'll second the motion." It's only when the per-son has to identify himself that Tyler makes the connection: Mr. Lacroix, Clayton's father. Beside his dad, Clayton is sitting on the edge of his chair like he's ready to third the motion, even though it's not required.

The floor is open for discussion of the motion. Tyler knows his father's not the type to speak up in front of a whole bunch of people. But his mother is another story. Any injustice or prejudice, Mom is up in arms. Please, G.o.d, Tyler prays. He'll forgo the trip to D.C. All Tyler wants for his birthday is for his mom not to get up and call attention to the fact that the Paquettes are harboring Mexicans.

Roger is pointing his gavel in Tyler's direction. For a panicky moment, Tyler thinks he's being called on. The up-standing young man who led the a.s.sembly in the Pledge of Allegiance will now weigh in on what he thinks of migrant Mexicans working on the local farms.

"Yes, I have a word to say to Mr. Rossetti and a reminder to all of us." It's Mr. Bicknell, who has stood up behind Tyler.

His teacher's voice has the same urgent- persuasive tone as when he's talking about saving the planet. "First, Mr. Ros-setti, I want to ask you where you got the name Rossetti."

"From my father, where else?" the old man snaps back in a smart- alecky voice. A few people snicker, but there's less laughter in the room than Mr. Rossetti seems to have ex-pected, because he gets even crankier and says, "What's your point, Bobby?" Calling Mr. Bicknell Bobby! Tyler feels shocked, even though his teacher's first name is Robert.

"My point, Mr. Rossetti, with all due respect, is that Rossetti is an Italian name." Mr. Bicknell holds up his hands as Mr. Rossetti starts to interrupt. "I know, I know. Your fam-ily's been here forever, since the 1880s, when Vermont needed cheap labor to work on the marble and granite quar-ries in Proctor and Barre. In 1850 there were seven Italians in Vermont, seven, Mr. Rossetti. By 1910 there were four thousand five hundred and ninety- four. What if Vermonters had raised an outcry about these foreigners endangering our sovereign state and nation? Many of us wouldn't be here. Plus we'd have missed out on great builders, hard workers, and terrific pizza."

Now there is genuine laughter. A few people even clap. Roger Charlebois bangs his gavel lightly like he's only doing it because he's supposed to.

Mr. Rossetti has turned pale. He sways a little as if stunned by Mr. Bicknell's flood of facts. It makes Tyler feel kind of sorry for the old man. He has heard his mother talk about how Mr. Rossetti lives all alone at the edge of town in a run- down little house with an American flag on his front porch and a sign that reads take back Vermont on his weedy lawn.

"And one more thing, Mr. Rossetti," Mr. Bicknell goes on. "Not only would we Vermonters have missed out on this rich heritage had we booted out all those Italians, we wouldn't have you here today to keep us all on our toes."

You've got to be kidding, Tyler thinks. Snickers and laughter ripple across the room. But Mr. Bicknell isn't having any of it. "I'm serious. Mr. Rossetti is pa.s.sionate about his country. Whether or not we share his ideas, we would do well to learn that much from him."

The room goes quiet again. It's as if they are all being reminded of something so easy to forget-how to be a decent human being.

"But the bottom line is that this country, and particularly this state, were built by people who gave up everything in search of a better life, not just for themselves, but for their children. Their blood, sweat, and tears formed this great nation."

Tyler hears a sniffle and looks over at Mari. Her head is bent and there are spots on her notebook where her tears are falling. He wishes he could think of something to say to comfort her. Instead he writes down in his notebook, Thank you for helping save our farm, Thank you for helping save our farm, and pa.s.ses it over so that Mari can read it. Spots keep falling on the page, too late for words to stop them. and pa.s.ses it over so that Mari can read it. Spots keep falling on the page, too late for words to stop them.

Mr. Rossetti's motion is voted down almost unanimously. For the first time ever, Tyler feels he has been part of the making of history. Not because he carried the flag and led everyone in saying the Pledge of Allegiance, but because he has seen democracy in action. People speaking up and reminding each other of the most n.o.ble and generous principles that are the foundation of being an American as well as a good person. Mr. Bicknell summed it up best: "We're all born human beings. But we have to earn that e e at the end of at the end of human human with our actions so we can truly call ourselves humane beings." with our actions so we can truly call ourselves humane beings."

As they file out, people come by to congratulate Mr. Bicknell. One of them is Tyler's mother, who throws her arms around Mr. Bicknell and gives him a great big hug. Oh well, at least Mom waited to embarra.s.s Tyler until after the meeting was over.

"You have my vote," she gushes as if Mr. Bicknell were running for some office. "What you said was just so right-on."

"Your son did a mighty fine job himself," Mr. Bicknell responds to Mom's compliments. It's as if he is embarra.s.sed and wants to deflect some attention over to Tyler.

Mom smiles fondly at Tyler. "He never breathed a word about opening the meeting! You know his birthday's tomorrow, International Women's Day." Mom goes into full gear. What a gift Tyler is as a son. How he has always been so thoughtful, sensitive, ready to help out. (He has?) "You're absolutely right." Mr. Bicknell winks at Tyler. "When I had to decide who should lead us, I couldn't think of a better man."

A. Better. Man. Wow! Talk about amazing compliments! But instead of a burst of pride, Tyler feels the heavy weight of the wad in his pocket. It might as well be a rock pulling him down into a dark, lost place. He doesn't deserve such high praise from his favorite teacher. Wow! Talk about amazing compliments! But instead of a burst of pride, Tyler feels the heavy weight of the wad in his pocket. It might as well be a rock pulling him down into a dark, lost place. He doesn't deserve such high praise from his favorite teacher.

Outside in the hall, a commotion has erupted. Some-one's shouting, "I've been robbed! I've been robbed!" Hobbling back into the lunchroom, Mr. Rossetti is waving his cane again and hollering. The story comes out in pieces. He went to the bank to cash his Social Security check before coming to the meeting. Just now when he reached in for his car keys, he realized his money was gone. For the second time this evening he is in such a state that he begins to totter from rage. Arms reach out to catch him as he falls. People are shouting instructions left and right. "Is Dr. Fein-berg still around?" someone shouts. But Dr. Feinberg slipped out earlier when he got an emergency call from the hospital. "Somebody call 911." A bunch of people pull out cell phones.

Tyler lunges forward to the old man's side and kneels down beside him. The old man's eyes are screwed shut and his face is pale as death. This is what Gramps probably looked like right before he died. Maybe that's why Tyler doesn't even think about waiting until tomorrow to do what he now knows he should do today.

Tyler shakes the old man's shoulders. "I found your money, Mr. Rossetti," he whispers, hoping no one else can hear him. He's not yet brave enough to confess in front of everybody that he almost kept the money.

The old man's eyes fly open. They are a sad, lonely brown, like Mari's eyes when she talks about Mexico or her mother.

"Really?" The old man's face floods with relief. A small smile works itself like a ripple through the muscles of his face. "There's a reward," he whispers back.

But Tyler has gotten his reward already. It's as if he has cut himself loose from a heavy stone tied around his heart. Maybe he is not a hero, or a patriot, or even an upstanding young man. But Tyler feels older and wiser, as if he has both lost and found himself this town meeting night.

18 marzo 2006 Para toda mi familia en Las Margaritas, To all my family in Las Margaritas: I hope this letter finds you well!Abuelota, we are especially happy to hear that you are feeling a lot better. Of course, when you learned Tio Felipe was in jail, you got worse. That is why we did not want to tell you at first. Now we know that there was something you were not telling us! Had Papa and Tio Armando known that you'd been taken to the hospital after receiving the news, they would have rushed down to see you.Never before have we sent a letter because according to Papa, you don't really have a good mail system. Phone calls to the local store work much better. And of course, we send money to the Western Union office that has opened in town now that so many people from Las Margaritas are working all over the United States. But somehow, it feels extra special to send you our greetings in writing and know that this very same piece of paper I've touched will soon be in your hands.I apologize for any mistakes in my Spanish. The only time I get to practice writing it is in letters or in my Spanish cla.s.s with our wonderful teacher, whose family is also from Mexico.Before I forget, Tio Felipe, thank you for calling to let us know that you arrived safely. You can't imagine how relieved we were! But the one who was the most relieved was the patron's patron's older son, Ben. It was as if a stone tied around his neck for the last few months had been cut loose. I think I saw tears in his eyes, but I can't be sure. older son, Ben. It was as if a stone tied around his neck for the last few months had been cut loose. I think I saw tears in his eyes, but I can't be sure.He was here on Sunday for the party we threw to thank everyone who helped us during those trying months. This was the second gathering in a week, as Tyler had his birthday party on Wednesday. We invited everyone to come in the early afternoon, so we would have plenty of time before the evening milking. Papa and I made chicken with mole sauce, your recipe, Tio Felipe, which didn't taste half as good as when you make it. But everyone was full of compliments, especially your friend, Alyssa, you met at that party.She drove over with Ben, as they attend the same university. Alyssa repeated her offer of taking anything we wanted to send as she is going to Chiapas to volunteer at a clinic for her spring vacation. Tomorrow she'll come over to pick up this letter along with Wilmita, who is so lonely for you, Tio Felipe.Senora Ramirez also came to our party, and she brought her gringo we have heard so much about. Barry is round and fat and jolly with a stomach that he says gets him a job every Christmas at the mall as the Santa Claus. He doesn't know a word of Spanish, but Senora Ramirez is working on teaching him.That must be why he is so interested in learning the meanings of words. He wanted to know why we call our grandparents Abuelote and Abuelota instead of Abuelo and Abuela, which Senora Ramirez taught him were the names for grandfather and grandmother. I tried to explain how we use Abuelita and Abuelito for one set of grandparents, which is like saying "little grandmother" and "little grandfather," and we call the other set of grandparents-"Abuelota and Abuelote," Ofie b.u.t.ted in. She always wants to be the one to tell the stories as long as she doesn't have to write them down. "You know why?"Barry looked very sorry that he didn't know why."Because they're fat," little Luby piped up."Don't!" Ofie scolded. She was annoyed at Luby for giving away one of the best parts of her story. Now she knew how I felt."I still don't get it," Barry said.Luby puffed up her cheeks to show what she meant by fat."They're not that fat!" Ofie contradicted."They are too," Luby insisted.I couldn't believe it! Here they were arguing about what you look like, Abuelota and Abuelote, and neither one has ever laid eyes on you. And they were both partly right. I had told them that you were heavier and taller than Abuelito and Abuelita, not that you were fat."Abuelote and Abue and Abuelota," I explained to Barry while my two little sisters continued their disagreement. "A lot more of them, get it?"Barry thought this was very funny and laughed a ho-ho-ho laugh, which must be another reason he gets hired as Santa Claus. Then he patted his big belly and asked if his name in Spanish would be Barrylote? Before I could think how rude it was, I answered, "No, your name would be Barrigon."Senora Ramirez laughed so hard. Papa opened his eyes at me with a silent rebuke. He must have been surprised. Usually it's Ofie saying the rude things in our family."What's so funny?" Barry kept asking.Senora Ramirez explained that I was making a joke, as barrigon barrigon means "fat belly" in Spanish. Now my joke didn't seem so funny to me. But Barry laughed his ho-ho-ho laugh again. "You might seem shy, but you are a hot little tamale, aren't you?" I don't know if he was referring to my red face or my fresh tongue. He asked me to call him Barrigon from now on, but no way will I be that rude again on purpose. means "fat belly" in Spanish. Now my joke didn't seem so funny to me. But Barry laughed his ho-ho-ho laugh again. "You might seem shy, but you are a hot little tamale, aren't you?" I don't know if he was referring to my red face or my fresh tongue. He asked me to call him Barrigon from now on, but no way will I be that rude again on purpose.Abuelito, these greetings are also for you. You must be missing Abuelita so much! We are sorry that we don't speak to you as often as to our other grandparents. Since you live farther out in the countryside, it is difficult to coordinate when we can call the store that you will be there.We hear news of you from our uncles in California, who call us from time to time. Always we talk about Mama. They were the last ones to see her, as they had all traveled north together before they parted ways. My uncles would have accompanied Mama the whole way, but they already had jobs lined up in California, and Mama was coming back to Carolina del Norte. I'm not real sure of the way it works as Papa doesn't really like to talk about these matters with me. Depending on where you want to end up and how much you want to pay, you go to one border town or another to be crossed over by a coyote. coyote. Mama's coyote had a contact on a reservation, who was going to bring her in an extra- special safe way. Mama's coyote had a contact on a reservation, who was going to bring her in an extra- special safe way.Abuelito, I pray every day to Abuelita in heaven that she look after Mama and bring her back to us. And I think my prayers might be working! There have been some strange phone calls at the patron's patron's number next door, a woman speaking in Spanish. Just yesterday, there was another call, but this time it was a man's voice. The number next door, a woman speaking in Spanish. Just yesterday, there was another call, but this time it was a man's voice. The patron's patron's wife only knows a little Spanish, including her numbers up to ten, so she repeated our telephone number slowly several times. She said the guy got real quiet as if he were writing the number down. wife only knows a little Spanish, including her numbers up to ten, so she repeated our telephone number slowly several times. She said the guy got real quiet as if he were writing the number down.I worry that maybe the caller tried to call and we were already gone to school and Papa and Tio Armando were still at the barn milking. The patron's patron's wife says she herself would have missed the call altogether, if she hadn't forgotten a math test she was giving that day and had to go back home to pick it up. I just hope and pray that the caller will keep trying again and again until he reaches us. wife says she herself would have missed the call altogether, if she hadn't forgotten a math test she was giving that day and had to go back home to pick it up. I just hope and pray that the caller will keep trying again and again until he reaches us.I try not to worry too much. It helps that we have found such nice patrones patrones here in Vermont. Tio Felipe can tell you they treat us like we are their family. In fact, the grandmother insists we call her Grandma. Ofie and Luby actually think of her as their only grandmother as they have never met their Mexican ones. I tell them all about you, Abuelito and Abuelote and Abuelota, so they at least know you through my stories. One nice thing that Alyssa did this last Sunday was take all our pictures. She also promised that she'd bring back photos, so we can catch up on what everyone looks like. That will settle it once and for all, Abuelota and Abuelote, how fat you really are! here in Vermont. Tio Felipe can tell you they treat us like we are their family. In fact, the grandmother insists we call her Grandma. Ofie and Luby actually think of her as their only grandmother as they have never met their Mexican ones. I tell them all about you, Abuelito and Abuelote and Abuelota, so they at least know you through my stories. One nice thing that Alyssa did this last Sunday was take all our pictures. She also promised that she'd bring back photos, so we can catch up on what everyone looks like. That will settle it once and for all, Abuelota and Abuelote, how fat you really are!Ofie and Luby have spoken with you on the phone, so you probably have noticed how they're forgetting their Spanish. Sometimes I even have to translate between Papa and them, imagine! Papa gets upset, but we can't really blame them. All they know is the United States, and they spend their days in school or at Grandma's house, speaking English. Of course, if Mama were here, it would be different. She always was so proud of Mexico and told us many stories about her life there. Papa works so hard, and when he gets home, all he wants to do is throw himself down on the couch and watch the Spanish channels. It makes him feel happy to be hearing his own language and seeing people who look like us even if they're only on TV. Tio Felipe can also tell you that this state is full of white people, so Mexicans stand out and that makes it easy for la migra la migra to catch us. to catch us.Besides the grandmother, the wife, and the patron, patron, the family includes three children: one older son I mentioned, Ben, who is studying at the university; a pretty teenage girl, Sara, who is always changing boyfriends; and my special friend, Tyler, who is in my cla.s.s at school and was my same age up until last week. the family includes three children: one older son I mentioned, Ben, who is studying at the university; a pretty teenage girl, Sara, who is always changing boyfriends; and my special friend, Tyler, who is in my cla.s.s at school and was my same age up until last week.I used to feel so alone, neither Mexican nor American. But now that I have a special friend, I feel like I don't have to be one thing or another. Friendship is a country everyone can belong to no matter where you are from.That's what I wrote about last month for Valentine's Day. Mr. Bicknell had thought up a creative a.s.signment. Instead of sending valentines, he wanted us to write a love story that had happened to us this past year.He got a bunch of groans in response. "Now hold on, guys," he said, grinning. "I want you to be creative. I mean love in all its dimensions, not just the girl- boy variety!" He stood at the board with a piece of chalk and we had to come up with different kinds of love.The girls were extra giggly for some reason, and the boys went wild with crazy suggestions, like love for your pet snake or vampire love, where you want to suck somebody's blood!I decided to write about how we had come to Vermont to help the Paquette family, and what good friends they had been to us. How Tyler had taught me about the stars, and the grandmother had showed us how to bake cookies and given us her extra TV so we wouldn't get bored.On Valentine's Day, Mr. Bicknell asked us to read our love stories out loud. When I read mine, Mr. Bicknell asked the cla.s.s what kind of love I was talking about."She's in love with Tyler?" Ashley asked. The girls all started giggling again. The boys hooted. I didn't dare look over at Tyler, but he couldn't have been more mortified than I was.That day after school, Tyler told me I shouldn't have done that.I wasn't sure what part of what I had done I shouldn't have done, so I asked him."Well, for one thing, telling about your working on our farm. It could get my parents into trouble.""I didn't say anything about us not having papers," I defended myself. For some reason, I didn't want to keep quiet anymore. "Besides, why do we always have to hide how hard we are working? We are not criminals!"I should have just dropped it right there, but it felt so good to speak up for once. "You yourself say that if it hadn't been for our help you would have lost the farm."Now it was Tyler who was angry. I can always tell because his pale face flushes with color. "It's not like we don't pay you."There we stood, glaring at each other, both mad and hurt and confused. This was happening out in the front of the school as we waited for our bus. Ofie was standing by, all ears, ready to jump in with her opinion. But just then, along come these two bullies in our cla.s.s, Ronnie and Clayton. The minute they spotted Tyler and me standing together they started chanting a little rhyme:

Tyler and Mariasitting in a treeK-I-S-S-I-N-G.

I didn't think Tyler could turn any redder, but he did! Now I saw another reason why Tyler was upset with me. He had been the only boy in our cla.s.s to feature in a girl's love story.Usually, Tyler will avoid a fight, but he lunged at these two guys, throwing his fists around. Meanwhile, Mr. Rawson, our bus driver, must have seen what was happening, as he came bounding out of his bus to separate them. "Paquette, inside," he ordered Tyler, jerking his head toward our bus. "You two, beat it unless you want to go pay Mrs. Stevens an after- school visit."And that was that. Peace was enforced, but not inside my heart.Tyler and I soon mended our friendship, especially as his birthday approached. But his words still stung every time I remembered them.He didn't really appreciate how my father and uncles had helped save his family's farm. It was like we had only done it for the money.But then Mr. Bicknell gave us another one of his creative a.s.signments. Our cla.s.s had to attend the town's yearly gathering and write a report about it. At this meeting, Mr. Bicknell stood up and said such beautiful words about people who come to this country because of necessity, and how they are not just helping their families back home, but helping build this great country.Maybe Tyler's ingrat.i.tude had worn an extra- sensitive place in my heart. I began to cry. Tyler must have noticed my tears because he wrote me a thank- you note that made all the difference.I better hurry up and finish this as Alyssa leaves tomorrow on her spring vacation. Ours won't be until the third week in April. Tyler really wants to go down to this nation's capital with a club he belongs to. But it is very expensive, and although they seem rich to us, the family cannot afford to pay for the trip. The club itself is going to hold a bake sale, which the grandmother is organizing.But that money has to be divided twelve ways among all the members. Tyler thought he could make up the difference with birthday money, but he did not receive as much as he was counting on. His rich aunt and uncle never even sent him a card.But then there was an article in the paper about Tyler's club and how they were raising money to go to the nation's capital on a field trip. The picture showed all the members and gave their names. Imagine being famous enough at twelve to have your picture in a newspaper! Right after it was published, Tyler got a call from this old man in town, offering him work for pay. Tyler would go after school a couple of times a week and on weekends and help the old man do things he can't do anymore on account of he's too old, like shovel his walk or help him take out the garbage or carry in his groceries.This was just what Tyler had been hoping for because his family can't afford to pay him for helping out with the farmwork here, which Tyler will still keep doing, as he is a very hard worker. "You could almost be a Mexican," Papa has complimented him more than once.So twice a week, after school, Tyler rides the bus to the edge of town and gets off on the block where the old man lives. Then, when he's done, he calls his grandmother to pick him up, as his dad's involved with the evening milking and the mom is getting supper ready. The grandmother has her car back finally; the family had taken it away last November when she kept getting into accidents because she was so sad about her husband dying.The first time the bus dropped Tyler off, I recognized the old man coming down his front porch. This was the very same old man who had said some not-so-nice things about Mexicans at that town meeting. Tyler had helped him find some money he lost, and the old man offered a reward, but Tyler refused. I suppose when he saw the story in the paper, the old man decided to help out. Still, I would be afraid to work for him, but Tyler says the old man couldn't be nicer.This past Tuesday, my sisters and I were over with the grandmother when she got Tyler's call to come pick him up. So she invited us along for the outing. She gave me a cake to hold on my lap that she had baked for the old man. Ofie asked if it was his birthday. "Oh, nothing like that," the grandmother explained. "It's just we've got to fatten him up. Poor old Joseph is just skin and bones. No wonder he's gotten so mean."Well, Ofie was in one of her nosy moods. The whole ride over, she kept asking questions. "Grandma, how old do you suppose Mr. Rossetti is?""Oh, I've figured it out from some things he's said. Joseph must be seventy- six, seventy- seven." There was a sweet little smile on the grandmother's face as she spoke. "I remember him when he was a handsome young fellow. There wasn't a girl's heart in the county that didn't flutter when she saw him. Why do you ask?" she said, peering at Ofie in the rearview mirror.Ofie answered her question with a question. "And how old are you, Grandma?""Well, dear, that's not something you normally ask ladies to disclose. But I'm your grandma so you can ask me. I'm seventy- three, or will be this May. You're suddenly very curious about birthdays, aren't you?" She gave a little laugh. "You care to inform me what you're cooking up in that lively head of yours?""First, Grandma, how old do people live to be?"The grandmother suddenly got very sad. "Only G.o.d knows that, honey. Look at Gramps." She bit her lip. I turned around and gave Ofie the eye so she would stop before she had the poor grandmother in tears.But forbidding Ofie anything is like giving her a green light. She stuck her little chin in the air, like she knew better. "I just think you should marry Mr. Rossetti soon before one of you dies."The grandmother was turning into Mr. Rossetti's driveway, and the old man had come down the porch steps to greet us. Just in time, the grandmother braked really hard. Now I believe what she says about seat belts. That poor cake wasn't belted in, and it jumped out of my hands and smashed against the dashboard and windshield!The grandmother looked like she was about to die. Meanwhile, Mr. Rossetti had opened the car door and reached in a hand to help her out. "Excellent reflexes, Elsie!" he complimented her.When we got home, Ofie told Papa that Grandma and Mr. Rossetti were going to get married! I can't believe her imagination. "This must be the month of romance," Papa observed. "The grandmother and her beau, Tio Felipe and Alyssa, and," he added, glancing over at me with a sly look, "the patron's patron's son fighting for a certain girl's honor." How on earth had he found out about Tyler's fight with Clayton and Ronnie? son fighting for a certain girl's honor." How on earth had he found out about Tyler's fight with Clayton and Ronnie?I don't know if I figured it out by myself or if I saw the guilty look sneaking across my sister's face. But right then and there, I knew that Ofie had been feeding Papa what Mr. Bicknell calls misinformation! No wonder he has gotten even more more strict about my going over to Tyler's house even with my sisters. strict about my going over to Tyler's house even with my sisters.I tried explaining to him what I wrote for Mr. Bicknell's Valentine's Day a.s.signment. How friendship is a country that includes everybody. All you have to do to belong is be a good friend. But Papa just shook his head like he knew better. "Mas sabe el diablo por viejo que por "Mas sabe el diablo por viejo que por diablo." diablo." A favorite saying of his about how the devil knows more because he is old than because he is the devil. I did not want to be disrespectful, but very softly, I asked, "Papa, and what do angels know?" A favorite saying of his about how the devil knows more because he is old than because he is the devil. I did not want to be disrespectful, but very softly, I asked, "Papa, and what do angels know?"Just like that, his face lost all suspicion, and he gave me the most angelic smile!Abuelito and Abuelote and Abuelota and Tio Felipe and toda la familia, toda la familia, I certainly hope that Papa is wrong about how you do not allow girls and boys to be special friends. Because if this is so, I hate to say it, but just like my sister Ofie, I would not want to live in Mexico. I certainly hope that Papa is wrong about how you do not allow girls and boys to be special friends. Because if this is so, I hate to say it, but just like my sister Ofie, I would not want to live in Mexico.