Zap! by Martha Freeman

Author:Martha Freeman
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Simon & Schuster/Paula Wiseman Books

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Luis took off in a hurry, his thoughts moving as fast as his pedals. Two blocks from home, he overtook a posse of teens riding low-slung bikes. They were doing tricks and getting in the way of the few cars on the road.

“Hey—hey—hey!” they hollered at Luis, and a couple tried to cut him off. Luis had to make a right and go down an alley to get away. When he stopped to listen and take a breath, his heart was racing like his thoughts.

Had Tony been with those kids?

That guy took a lot of stupid risks, but he was smart in some ways, knew how to keep his guys loyal. In a scary world, he told them he had their backs.

I got lucky last night, Luis thought. If they hadn’t been drinking, things might’ve turned out different.

Right now Luis knew one thing for sure. He did not want to see those guys on bikes again. To avoid them, he cut through vacant lots and rode down alleys—made the two-block trip to his house twice as long.

Indoors at last, he called, “¿Hola?” but there was no answer.

The front room was freezing—colder than the air outside. Luis’s fingers were numb from gripping the handlebars of his bike, and he flexed his hands to warm them up. Then he rolled the bike into his room, leaned it against the wall, and stuck his toe under the bed to check for the box. Still there. When he bent down to look, the money was still there too.

Once in a movie on TV he had heard it called lettuce. Stale lettuce, he thought now, because it was limp and grimy. It had its own peculiar smell.

Only then did the idea come into his head: The señora’s money might be the solution to his problem. Spend a little on the genius. Bring back the power. What did you call that? An investment? The señora knew all about business. She would understand that, right?

A voice in Luis’s head argued. It was wrong to take her money. Señora Álvaro had trusted him. He was violating her trust.

He fought with himself but only for a moment. People were getting hurt because the power was out. If the blackout continued, people might die. This was important.

With no idea how much he might need, Luis counted out two hundred and fifty dollars in fives and twenties. He tried not to think too hard about how he was going to repay it or how mad Señora Álvaro was going to be.

Counting done, Luis grabbed a spiral notebook from his desk, tore out paper, and wrote “IOU $250, Luis Cardenal.” Then he put the paper in the box and closed it.

Luis was retrieving a sweater from his dresser when he heard his brother’s voice. “¿Hola? ¿Luis? ¿Estás aquí? Are you here?”

“Sí, aquí—in my room.”

Reynaldo appeared in his doorway, frowning. Reynaldo was big and broad enough to have played football. What he didn’t have was killer instinct. Papá said he didn’t have a mean bone in his body, and Papá didn’t mean it as a compliment, either.

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