Danny’s hands are in his pockets. He’s still hiding under his cap. “Nah. She out at a friend’s.”
Out? And she didn’t take him with her? I don’t believe that.
“Men like us are not always welcome.” Pinchón tugs the bandana until the knot is under his arm. “We make them uncomfortable.”
Papi is going to make Danny a whole lot of uncomfortable when he finds out about this.
Pinchón grabs the edge of my bag. “Something smells good. What you got in here?”
I don’t move. The pastelitos should be covering the book. “Mami made them. Can’t show up empty-handed, can I?”
“Pues, no. Pero, you can share, right? Poor Danny here has got to be starving.”
Danny’s hand comes out of his pocket. Startled eyes come out from under his hat. “No, I’m OK. I don’t need no—”
Pinchón gives him a look. Danny puts his hand down.
I lean all the way over the bag though it means I gotta take my eyes off them. I unwrap some pastries. I don’t take the package out.
“Here.” I give them each one. I’m lucky Mami made a double batch.
They’re licking their fingers, smacking their lips. “Dame un más.” Pinchón holds out his palm. I pass out another round. Danny shakes his head at me. I put the one intended for him in Pinchón’s hand. Pinchón swallows it whole. “Diache, but that be good.”
“Hey, ain’t you the player who hit all those home runs in the tournament game?” The big guy, the one I don’t recognize, wipes his hands on his pants and looks at me.
Danny nods. “We was playing against Lehman. We killed them 9 to 2.”
“Yeah you did.” Pinchón offers up his fist. Danny touches it with his own and smiles. Pinchón does the same to me. Again, I can’t refuse.
“We?” the big guy asks Danny.
“I used to be on the team.” Danny twists the sole of his sneaker into the rubber tiling. They’re not what he usually wears. They’re brand-new Nikes. Red and white.
Used to? What does he mean, used to? I keep my face still but my eyes . . . It’s like I’m training to be El Jefe.
“Alex here is one of the best in the Heights.” Pinchón slings an arm around me. “Ain’t that right, baby A-Rod? You doing us Dominicanos proud. Keep it up. Show them what we made of. ¡Dios, Patria y Libertad!”
They all repeat the phrase and fist-bump me.
“Hey, you want un regalito?” Pinchón lifts his jersey, shows me an envelope. “Just a taste. A freebie. On account of your talent.”
Danny steps back.
“Gracias. Pero no puedo.” I keep it cool. I rise to my full height, move to the center of the car so I don’t hit my head on the bar. I’m as tall as the big guy. But he doesn’t look like he works out. “This body be a temple. Even off season, I train. Got to stay on my game, ¿veldad?”
Pinchón grins and nods. “Man’s got a point. Tu ’ta roca.”
“And his papi would kill him if he found out.” Danny talks real fast.
They all look at him. I hold my smile steady.
“His papi don’t even let him get with the ladies, if you know what I mean. Gives him power. That’s why he’s a power pitcher AND a power hitter.”
OK, I know I said Papi was gonna give it to Danny when he found out. But he’s gonna have to get in line ’cause I’m going to have at him first.
Pinchón is snapping his fingers, like he’s trying to remember something. “‘Pérate, your papi, isn’t he the one who used to play—”
The door at the other end of the car shoots open. The grating of wheels against track rushes in. Six dudes in baggy jeans and denim jackets move toward us. Their bandanas are black and blue.
Pinchón is up. He strides toward them. The big guy is at his side. The rest fall in line. Two remove blades from their pockets. They tuck them against their backs.
“Vete,” Danny whispers. “Go.”
I don’t have a weapon. But I’m tall and I’m strong. If I go, they’ll be outnumbered. Danny will be outnumbered. And those guys might not notice that my AHH cap isn’t the Yankees.
I glance at my bag. I’d been thinking of bringing my new bat. But Papi said he had plenty. Coño, I should have brought it.
In the center of the car, Pinchón and the leader of the other group exchange words. Hisses rise from both sides.
“This isn’t your fight. Get outta here.” Danny’s still whispering.
I grit my teeth. “It isn’t yours either. What are you doing with them?”
“Just go. If you get caught, you’ll be booted from the team. You’ll be banned from playing high school ball. Your future—poof!” Danny fans his fingers in a mini-explosion.
“And what about your future?”
Danny shakes his head. “My future’s not in ball and you know it. El Jefe sure does.”
That’s not true. OK, maybe it is true. But that doesn’t mean he has to quit. It doesn’t mean he has to run with these locos.
Pinchón is sassing the other guy. Blades come out of the denim jackets. We’re pulling into a station.
“Go. Now.” Danny’s voice is desperate.
“I don’t want to leave you alone.”
Danny gives me a smile. The bump from his scar makes it look sad. “I’m not alone.”
The doors open. There’s a shout. A guy in denim lunges. Pinchón jumps back. The few other passengers on with us scramble out. The big guy with the red bandana knocks the knife from the denim guy’s hand. Another blue bandana jabs. The big guy hollers and grips his arm. He nails the blue bandana in the head. Blue bandana goes down. He doesn’t get up.
A lady holding grocery bags is getting on the train. She backs off and screams.
Everyone left standing is holding a knife. Except for me.
The doors are about to close. The lady on the platform is shrieking for help.
“Go!” Danny shouts it.
I grab my bag. I jump off.
The doors slam. The train pulls away.
I press my fist to my chest. I’m breathing like I’ve been stealing bases. Danny better be OK. He better not get hurt. Coño, what was he thinking?
The lady is running up the stairs to the station manager. She left her groceries on the platform.
Sirens wail in the distance. What should I do? If I go onto the street, they’ll see me. If I stay here, they’ll find me. That lady was white. I probably look just like those other guys to her. Even without my baseball cap and jersey, I look like them. And I was standing with them in the car.
Coño. What do I do?
“Chuck?”
I turn around.
THURSDAY, NOVEMBER 24
ISA
I had a feeling he would be here. Every day since Halloween, a sense of anticipation has made me yank on my shoes and head out the door early so I can spend extra time on the platforms, on the trains, looking for him. But what are the chances of him being here today? At this time? Most everyone is still fighting over turkey with family.
He’s wearing a baseball cap. And that’s a jersey under his coat. He looks almost exactly like he did Halloween night. Bubbles of hope fill my chest. They pop and pop and pop as they hit against my too-eager heart.