This story doesn’t work unless every part of you understands that the girl, Rosaria, is a radiant, contagious smiler.  Only eleven, she’s a natural beauty too, high cheek bones, long fluffy shoulder length hair. She was my student last year. Rosaria visits me many mornings… to touch bases. Remember her - she’ll be at the end.

    Two incidents, same day – yesterday.  One of my boys, Frederico, is cherubic. Huge, bulbous eyes. At first I thought he was a smart-ass. He’d have this or that to say. But I get it now. He’s just verbal and so sharp he can’t keep the words to himself. They flow.

     We played frozen tag. He got nailed and had to freeze – no movement. Frederico, feet planted in place, commented, “Well, I’ll just sit and rest. This is an opportunity to rest.”  He meant it. No malice in his words, no sarcasm.  He gave in to gravity and sat on the grass.  I sat near him and we B.S.-ed. After a minute he asked, “Mr. K, do you have a ten for two fives?”

        “I think so?” I took out my wallet and he took out his. I said, “Dude, looks like we’re doing a drug deal on the playground.”

        “I have fifty-six dollars.” He showed them to me.

        I noticed he didn’t say bucks.  Frederico is well-spoken, cute too. Little guy, under four feet. Super short hair, black, of course.  As we exchanged the bills I asked, “So, why a ten instead of two fives?”

       “I can press the bills together better. They’re easier to hide. My brother steals my money.” He was quiet, then added, “We used to get along before he moved in with our mom in Salinas. We played Halo and lots of computer games. Now he’s just mean to me.  He’s twelve. Gram says he went bad.”

     I had a fistfull of questions, but the only one I got out was, “Can’t you find a good place to hide your money in your room?”

     He smiled at me. “I sleep in the living room. On the couch at Gram’s house.”

     My heart twisted. The frozen tag game swirling around me was forgotten long ago. “Actually,’ Frederico said, “that’s why I’m saving my money. I’m going to buy my very own bed.”  Pride and power resonated from him.

      “Can I ask a question? You don’t have to say anything if you don’t want to.”

      His big eyes ate me as they waited for the question. “What’s the story on mom and dad? Why are you with your gram?”

      Matter of factly this ten-year old child said, “It’s kinda’ sad. We used to live in Chualar. Somebody broke into our house and they stabbed my dad twice, shot him and strangled him.  I was only three.”

      Frederico eye-balled me. I knew the cold truth when a fifth-grader shot it my way. I looked away. I refocused on the game and saw that it was mostly over. I stood, patted Frederico on the back, and yelled, “Guys, let’s head back to class.”

     Heavy, huh? Too heavy.  Welcome to ghetto-teaching. Got to end this on a  lighter note or I’ll blow my brains out.    

    

      End of the same day. The kids left for home. Some bolted, some dawdled, a few gave me hugs. Some didn’t want to leave. Eventually I had the room to myself. I cleaned up my desk, trying to escape ASAP.  A shadow hit the doorway. It was Rosaria, my beaming smiler. She stopped, shot a glance behind herself. She wanted to share …in private.

   “Need to shut the door?”

    She shook her head, “No, nobody’s around. It’s okay.” She still smiled.

    “What’s up?”

    “My dad is getting sentenced tomorrow.”

    Rosaria and I cemented our relationship last year at county jail while I was visiting a former student.  I had felt a tug on my jacket in the waiting line. I turned to find Rosaria. She was waiting her turn to see her mom. It became our big secret. She fidgeted a bit the Monday after it happened. I knew she felt uncomfortable. When I walked by her desk, I whispered, “No probs kiddo. It goes with me to the grave. Just make sure when I’m in… you’ll visit ME!” She laughed and knew her secret was safe when we pinkie promised on it.

  “So” I asked, “What are your dad’s sentencing options?”

  “Thirty three years or he’s out free.”

  I gave her a goofy look. “Thirty-three years or free is quite a difference.” I held my hands up indicating a scale balancing.  “What’s he in for?”

  She laughed. ”This time?”

  “Uh oh, more than once huh. That’s not good.”

  “Robbery. He dropped his wallet and the cops I.D.ed him. Stupid, huh?”

   She gave me a test smile, it grew to her ears. I shot her a return smile and we burst out laughing. We had a hard time to stop.

   “Rosario, I’m sorry to laugh.”

   “Nah, it’ okay, Mr. K. Everybody laughs when I tell them.”

   She hugged me and ran off.

 

    I never thought two wallets would bother me so much.…