The Pool Party (5 page)

“You’re right. You know, after I lent her a quarter, I found a dollar bill at the canal. Me and Alex were looking for frogs. You ever do that, Grandpa?”

“All the time. Back when I was young we had frogs big as baseball mitts.”

“¿De veras?”

“Pues sí. Es la verdad.”

Grandfather smiled and laughed a deep laugh that made his belly jiggle. He bent down and washed his face in the garden hose. Rudy did the same. When he looked up with water dripping from his eyelashes, Mindy was once again looking at him. Rudy waved again and Mindy ducked behind a flowery curtain.

A
n electronic beep sounded when Rudy and Alex entered Everyman’s Coin Shop. They closed the door and looked back at their inner tube, which Rudy had chained to a parking meter. Rudy and Alex had debated whether to put money into the meter because, in a way, the inner tube was parked. But they decided to live dangerously and left it chained to the expired meter.

The owner of the coin shop looked up, his eye hideously magnified behind a jeweler’s eyepiece, and sized up his two customers. “May I help you gentlemen?” the man asked in a polite voice. His eyepiece dropped into his palm. The owner shook it like dice before he placed it in his shirt pocket.

Rudy and Alex looked around, not sure if the man was talking to them.

“Yes, you two fine customers. How may I be of service?”

Alex nudged Rudy. “Go ahead, ask him.”

“Well, sir, is this worth anything? It was made in 1949 in Denver.” Rudy uncurled his fist. In his sweaty palm lay the nickel that his father had found while cutting the lawn. Rudy handed the nickel to the man, who brought out his eyepiece and studied the nickel. He hemmed and hawed and ticked the nickel against the glass case. He looked up at the boys. “My dear sirs—” he started to say.

Alex nudged Rudy again. “See! You’re going to be rich! Will you buy me a Gameboy?”

“Rich!” Rudy screamed. “I’m going to be rich! Really?”

The two did a quick dance, gave themselves high fives and, gripping the glass case, asked, “How much is it worth?”

The man put his eyepiece back into his shirt pocket. “A nickel,” the man concluded.

“Yeah, we know it’s a nickel,” Rudy said. “But how much?”

“I’m afraid that your nickel is worth a nickel.”

Alex closed his eyes in disbelief. “It can’t be. It’s so old.”

“I’m afraid that’s the truth.”

“No, it can’t be,” Alex argued again. His face looked desperate. He had talked Rudy into walking two miles to the coin shop because he was sure—dead sure—that the nickel was worth a lot.

The man fumbled through his pockets and brought out a nickel. He looked at the
date. “Here, my good friends, is another nickel minted in 1949. You can have it. It’s yours.”

Rudy took the nickel and peered at it. He gazed intently and concluded, “It is from 1949.” Rudy handed it back to the man and turned to Alex. “See, I told you it’s not worth anything!”

“How did I know? Remember, you’re smarter,” Alex said, shrugging his shoulders. “It just seemed so old.”

“I’m sorry that I can’t help you,” the man said, and turned from the boys to answer the telephone.

When they left the coin shop, a policeman was writing up a ticket where they had parked the inner tube.

“Híjole!”
Rudy screamed. He ran over to the policeman. “Are you giving us a ticket?”

“Is this your inner tube?” the policeman asked. His badge sparkled in the afternoon sun.

“Yeah,” Rudy admitted.

The policeman flapped his ticket book closed. “You can’t chain it to a meter. Better move it.” The policeman scratched his head and then added, “That’s a heck of an inner tube.”

“Yeah, I guess so,” Rudy said despondently. When the policeman left, Rudy took the 1949 nickel from his pocket and fed the meter. “I may as well put it to use. This car is going to get a ticket if I don’t.” The meter was ticking down to four minutes.

From the coin shop, Rudy and Alex rolled the inner tube to Francher’s Creek, a canal-like river that snaked through south Fresno. “You want to test it for leaks?” Alex asked.

“Probably. Our jeans will dry out quick if they get wet. Anyway, mine could use a wash,” Rudy agreed.

They heaved the inner tube into the edge of the creek and got on, Rudy first. Once Alex boarded, they pushed off. They paddled with their hands and with a stick they found floating in the water. They were giddy with excitement. The inner tube floated westward,
on a slow but steady current.

“This is fun.” Rudy smiled. He cupped his hands and scooped up water. It looked clear and clean, but he hesitated to drink it.

“Yeah, this is
bad,
” Alex agreed.

They floated down the creek, their feet dangling in the water. They waved at three small kids on the banks, but their happiness turned sour when the kids started throwing rocks at them. The rocks, though, fell short of their target, and Rudy and Alex just laughed and taunted them.

They floated through a thicket of Johnson weeds, where they picked up a slimy stick. They needed something more to maneuver with, because the water had suddenly become swift. The water cut over some rocks and boards, and lapped the edges of discarded tires.

“Push,” Rudy said as he strained to avoid a car fender poking from the water.

“I’m trying,” Alex groaned.

They pushed and paddled until the water once again became quiet. They looked down through the doughnut hole of the inner tube. They could see some fish, no bigger than leaves and just as thin. They could see grass waving on the bottom and now and then rocks furred with moss.

“When we grow up, we should join the navy,” Alex suggested. He had taken off his T-shirt and draped it over his head, shading him from the hot sun.

“You think so?” Rudy asked. The bike chain dangled like a heavy necklace around his neck. Rudy imagined that it was an anchor, and if they pulled to shore he would tie down the inner tube, just like a boat.

“Yeah. Don’t you like water?”

“
Simón.
But you know, I think I like the snow better.”

“Really?” Alex thought for a second and then said, “Yeah, it’s pretty good until your feet get wet.”

“Yeah, one time my toes got so cold, they started bleeding.”

“No way.”

“
En serio!
I was wearing white socks, and I could tell. Ask my mom.”

They floated for an hour, talking about what they would do in the navy, until they got right before a waterfall. Rudy told Alex, “We’d better get out.”

They paddled toward the shore just in the nick of time, because the waterfall dropped five feet. At the end of the drop, sharp rocks jutted from the water. With all their strength, they hoisted the inner tube out of the water. They rested on the bank like beached seals. They dozed in the shade, and woke only when the mosquitoes became too furious.

“Let’s go,” Rudy complained. He poked at his ear, where a mosquito had landed. Blood smeared his fingers, and Alex made a disgusted face when he wiped it on his pants.

They rolled the inner tube along the bank. They became dusty and thirsty, and the mosquitoes wouldn’t leave them alone.
They then set the inner tube back into the water and paddled off, two captains of the U.S.S.
Fresno.
They paddled and talked and became so engrossed in their dreams of the navy that they had sailed ten miles out of town.

When they realized how far they had gone, they pulled to the bank and dragged the inner tube from the water. Mosquitoes buzzed at their ears. Their sneakers squished when they walked.

“Alex, I think we’re in another town,” Rudy said. He smacked a large mosquito from his face.

Alex shaded his eyes with a salute. Everything seemed foreign. He had never seen this town. Alex looked worriedly at Rudy and moaned, “I think we’re really in trouble this time.”

They sat themselves on the inner tube, two captains on land, and went through their pockets for money. They found two quarters, a stick of wet gum, and a single
Life Saver. They needed those quarters to call Rudy’s father, and that Life Saver and stick of gum to sweeten their story of how they had gotten so far from home.

T
he morning sun blazed above the roofs of the neighborhood. And although it was still morning, the little kids from across the street were already running through the sprinklers. Rudy was on the porch bouncing a fluorescent tennis ball against the wall. Father came out, coffee cup in hand. He blew on his coffee and took a sip.

“It’s going to be a hot one,” he said. His glasses glinted with the sun. His brow was
furrowed from squinting at the glare on the street.

“I don’t care how hot it gets,” Rudy said. He stuffed the ball into his pocket. “I’m going swimming.”

Rudy had talked up a storm about the party. He had talked about his inner tube and about Tiffany Perez, the girl in his class. He talked about what he was going to wear and what kinds of dives he would do in the swimming pool. He had told Alex that he was going to try to hold his breath underwater for two minutes.

“Sit down, Little Rudy,” Father said. He took a sip of coffee and looked thoughtfully at the sky. “So Tiffany is pretty rich, huh?”

“I think so.”

“Well, Rudy, let me give you some advice. You can’t eat with your fingers.”

“Yeah, I know,” Rudy said. “Estela told me already.”

“And when you get there, you gotta be polite. You have to make small talk.”

“Small talk?”

“Yeah, you got to talk so small that ants can understand what you’re saying.” He rubbed his chin and thought deeply. “Let me help you. I’ll be Mrs. Perez and you be yourself.”

“You’re going to be Mrs. Perez?”

“Simón.”

They stood up, face-to-face. Rudy pretended to knock on the door.

“How’s it going, ma’am?” Rudy said as he greeted Mrs. Perez. He had a difficult time seeing Mrs. Perez in the form of his father, especially in a work shirt and thick black glasses.

“No, Rudy. You have to be polite,” Father corrected him. “Say, ‘Hello, Mrs. Perez. It’s a swell day for a swell pool party.’ Can you do that? And immediately start making conversation. You could tell her about yourself. Tell her about baseball.”

Rudy tried a second time. He knocked and said, “Hello, Mrs. Perez, it’s sure a hot day for a hot pool party. I adore fried chicken.”

“That’s it,
hombre,
” Father screamed with delight. He slapped his thighs and said, “Tell her more.
Otra vez.
”

“I adore fried chicken
con frijoles,
and
mi perro,
Chorizo, he likes tortillas with peanut butter.” Rudy giggled and slapped his own thighs.

“That’s it, Rudy,” Father encouraged. “Tell her more. Spit it out!”

“I like
huevos con weenies y papas fritas. Me gustan café con leche y helado de coco.
” Rudy was smiling from ear to ear as he realized how funny he sounded. He reminded himself of Kid Frost, the rapper from East Los Angeles.

Father slapped his thighs a second time. He took a sip from his coffee cup and smiled broadly at his son. “Rudy, you’re gonna be a hit. Bethany-Tiffany-Riffany, or whatever her name is, she’s gonna crack up. You know why?”

“No. Why, Dad?”

“You mean you don’t know why?”

“No, Dad. Why?”

Father became more serious. “Sit down, Little Rudy.” He popped his knuckles and looked around the neighborhood. More children were playing in the sprinklers. The neighbor across the street was washing her car, a Chevy Nova.

“Rudy, we’re just ordinary
gente,
” Father started. “I work, and El Shorty—your gramps—works. We get by. We’re honest. That’s it. We get by month to month. That’s why she’s gonna like you. She’s gonna see that you’re real.
¿Entiendes?
” He stopped and waved to a neighbor driving past. “Hey, Louie, I got that jack for you. Come by later.” The man in the car waved and nodded his head. Father looked at his son with understanding. “Listen, they may be rich folks, but don’t worry. Just go and have fun, do some fancy dives in the pool and be nice and … bring me home a piece of cake. Okay?”

“Okay, Dad,” Rudy said. He understood his father. He understood that while they were everyday workers, they were proud
and worked as one—
la familia.
He understood that his father was a good father, serious but not too serious.

Father left with Grandfather to cut lawns. Rudy played with Chorizo and then, struck with a little guilt, he stopped to admire his grandfather’s landscaping efforts. His grandfather was working on making a pool in their own backyard.
“Pobre abuelito,
” thought Rudy, “I should help him.” Rudy shoveled until he was hot and sweaty and it was time to go to the pool party.

He showered and then, at the foggy bathroom mirror, practiced making polite conversation. “Hello, Mrs. Perez, I adore fried chicken.” He raised two splayed fingers and said, “I’ll take two pieces.” He splashed his father’s cologne on his face. “It’s a hot day for a swell pool party.” He splashed on more cologne. He admired himself in the mirror. “Mrs. Perez,” he continued, “I understand that you love turtle soup. I, too, adore turtle soup.” He was happy with his small talk, and happy with the way he smelled.