Emiliano dribbles the ball through two defenders. Paco is ahead of him on the right wing. Emiliano lifts his chin, signaling that no mercy will be given, and their eyes meet in complete understanding.
His pass drops twenty feet behind the last defenseman for the Conquistadors, and Paco outruns a kid who looks like he’s more interested in not messing up his golden locks than in playing soccer. Now Paco’s alone with only a scared-looking goalie in front of him. Paco waits for the goalie to charge him and then lobs the ball over the boy’s head into the net.
Their single-minded intensity wakes up the Pumas, and there is no stopping them after that. The friendly game turns into a war. Yellow cards fly left and right for both teams. By the time the Pumas are up four to two with ten minutes left in the game, Emiliano has started to feel sorry for the Conquistadors, who have abandoned any kind of discipline and are running around the field like angry hornets. Why not take the foot off the pedal, maybe even let them score another goal? Then the chant comes again.
“NAR-COS! NAR-COS! NAR-COS!”
Emiliano stops for a moment to look at the parents and students shouting in the stands. Two-thirds of them are brown-skinned Mexicans or of Mexican descent. He nods first to Paco and then to López. Two minutes later, Paco scores with a header from one of Emiliano’s corner kicks. Thirty seconds before the end of the game, López scores with a vicious shot from almost midfield. They win the game six to two.
When the referee blows the final whistle, both teams line up to limply shake the hands of their opponents.
“Was that really necessary?” Brother Patricio asks Emiliano during the long, silent ride back home.
“Yes, Brother. Today that was necessary.”
Brother Patricio doesn’t say anything more. But Emiliano knows he has hurt him with his deeds on the field and now with his words and tone. First Paco and then Brother Patricio. Who else is he going to push away?
When they get out of the van at Colegio México and all the players are walking away, Emiliano goes to Brother Patricio and takes the bag of practice balls from him. “I’m sorry.”
“Do you want to talk? I have time.”
“No, not right now.”
“Next week, maybe, on the hike.”
“Maybe. Oh, I forgot. Sara is doing an article on the Jiparis, and she asked if she can come on the hike. She plans to do a big story. She says it’s sure to bring in a lot of donations.”
Brother Patricio opens a storage closet on the side of the building and Emiliano places the bag of balls inside. “Well,” Brother Patricio says, “we could use the extra money.”
“I’ll tell her. She’ll be happy. Thank you.”
“Emiliano, I have a theory about why you were so angry out there. Do you want to hear it?”
“Sure.” He doesn’t really, but he’s been mean enough to Brother Patricio for one day.
“Maybe playing in El Paso, at that rich school, reminded you of your father and his decision to leave you and your mother and sister and remain in the United States.”
The vendetta thing again. Emiliano nods thoughtfully. He knows that besides hiking out in the desert, psychoanalyzing people is Brother Patricio’s greatest pleasure.
“Maybe that ‘USA’ chant brought to the surface the anger you still have for your father.”
“Maybe,” Emiliano says. But no, it was not the “USA” chant that he minded. It was the “narcos” chant that hit home, in a deep, personal way that Brother Patricio cannot even begin to imagine. “I got to run. I have to go see Javier.”
“Be safe. And Emiliano?”
“Yeah?”
“It’s time to forgive.”
As Emiliano walks slowly away, he does not let Brother Patricio see the grin on his face. Brother Patricio never gives up, does he? He takes out his phone and reads a text from Sara.
Call me as soon as you can. I need to talk to you right away. Be careful.
He calls her but her phone is busy. Something is going on with Sara. If only they could have talked openly about their problems last night. She needed to talk with him and he with her and neither one could do it. He texts her to make sure she takes a taxi home, hoping she saw the money he left for her on the kitchen table.
Then he goes to the text that he received from Perla Rubi the night before around midnight, when he was lying in his bed thinking, thinking.
What did you say to my father anyway? All he did last night is talk about you. He wants to know if you want to hit golf balls with him next Saturday. He wants to teach you how to play golf. Amazing! Stop by after your soccer game. I’d love to see you before our game against Sacred Heart. I miss you, Emiliano Zapata.
Golf? Emiliano Zapata playing golf? Maybe the game is not all that different from the walks he takes in the desert. You just hit a white ball with a stick now and then as you walk. He puts the phone in his pocket and takes a deep breath.
He stops when he turns the corner of the building. The girls’ volleyball team is warming up by doing jumping jacks. The players from Sacred Heart High School stretch on the other side of the net. Perla Rubi is at the end of one row of Colegio México players. As if sensing his presence, she turns to where he’s standing and waves at him as she jumps. Then she gestures to wait five minutes. After the warm-up exercises, they can talk.
The way she just happened to turn her head to the right when everyone was looking straight ahead. The way her face lit up when she saw him. Something happened last night. He’s crossed some kind of threshold into Perla Rubi’s life in a way he had not been allowed before. Even now, watching her, he feels different. No more of the usual doubts about them being boyfriend and girlfriend or whatever. He feels sure of himself. It’s the way he feels sometimes during a soccer game: a confidence that comes out of nowhere and fills him.
He reminds himself that he has not yet decided if he will do business with Mr. Reyes. As he reasons out the pros and cons of Mr. Reyes’s proposition, the one obstacle his logic cannot overcome is Javier. Brother Patricio rescued Javier from a life of truancy and addiction. Now Javier is going to school and helping to support his family with his piñatas. Javier is also the best Jipari that Emiliano has ever trained. The other kids call him the Turtle because he walks slow but somehow gets there faster than anyone else. And now? Now, Emiliano is going to ask him to stuff the piñatas with drugs.
Yes, but with the extra money, maybe Javier can get his mother and sisters out of the stink hole where they live. Life is messy.
And what about your Jipari pledge, Emiliano? “I will abstain from all intoxicants. I will be honest with myself and others. I will use the knowledge and strength the desert gives me for the benefit of others.”
Emiliano shakes his head. This kind of internal talking is sheer craziness. It’s part of him talking to another part of him, even if the voice is his father’s. It was a big mistake to read that letter. Did he actually think he was going to find an answer to his moral dilemma there? Yes, it was his father who patiently taught him right from wrong. But look what he did when it came time for him to practice what he preaches, how he left his family and broke promises. All the letter did was remind Emiliano what a hypocrite his father is.
The volleyball team has ended their warm-up drills and Perla Rubi is walking toward him. She wears red shorts and a green T-shirt with the word Pumas in white letters. Her hair is pulled back into a ponytail. A radiant look of happiness lights her face, a happiness for him and because of him. How can it be that Perla Rubi likes him, maybe even loves him? He feels humble and proud all at the same time. So, so fortunate. So grateful. How can he possibly say no to this gift life is offering?