Chương 8: Tú irás

"Oh no." The feeling hit just as Robin was helping Una hunt for her keys. New Player Day had come at last. Robin planned to arrive at Duke Games twenty minutes early, so he could be the first to pick an army out of the case. For days, he'd pored over the loaner rulebook to find an unbeatable combination of troops. In his black-and-white composition book, Robin filled a page with potential armies. He planned around the strongest unit in the case, a squadron of white-bannered Imperial Knights.

Worried he might get second pick, he devised a second army to counter the first. Then, he designed another to counter the second, in case he was third. He filled the opposite page with rule reminders and tactics. Anything he didn't want others to see if they peeked, he wrote in tiny lines of Spanish. Diario de Martillo had an entire two page spread devoted to New Player Day. Satisfied with his battle plan, Robin thought about how he could make friends as the youngest person there. It was critical.

When he played fútbol with older divisions in Amarillo, they hated to be shown up by a younger guy. He got beat up once for running his mouth. Robin expected the other players would test him and try to throw him off his game. The key was to take it easy, laugh along, and take them by surprise. He would not break. If he rolled bad, he wouldn't let it bother him. He would take it on the chin, move to plan B, and win. When he did, he'd give a firm handshake, nod respectfully, and say "Good game!"

Robin despised players who were smug, or who gave excuses in post-game interviews. He wanted to be just like El Güero, Raúl Cárdenas de la Vega. Cárdenas played in three world cups and won five Primera División titles for Cruz Azul. On the microphone he was soft-spoken, confident, and matter of fact. Everyone loved him. Robin would be just like that. Today was the day. Oh no. Robin rushed for the bathroom. The nausea had been absent for three days, but it returned with a fury.

Una had made a larger breakfast than normal. Hotcakes and boiled eggs, the breakfast of champions. She'd urged him to eat up to make it through the long day of gaming. It all came back. Robin clung to the bowl with his eyes screwed tight and panted between gags. He got the spins and the world seemed to breathe in and out around him. By the time he could quell the rebellion, brush his teeth, and get cleaned up, he was already late. He slumped back into the kitchen.

"I give up. Let's go another day," Robin sighed.

"What? No, we're going. You have to bring the rulebook back." This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

"We're too late Tita. They'll have started by the time we get there. All the good stuff will be picked."

"Then you can go and watch. You have been talking about this non-stop for a week. Tú irás (You're going)."

"I don't want to show up late and sick."

"Too bad. Paul Morphy won the world championship with dysentery. Fernando Busco ganó el tricampeonato con las rodillas destrozadas. ¡Súbete al pinche carro de una vez! (Fernando Busco won three championships in a row with two bum knees. Get in the car!)" Una's voice snapped.

"Sí, Abuela." Robin lowered his head. When Tita became Abuela, it was time to watch out. He hurried to the car. The Falcon started on the first try. It was afraid of her, too. Una drove furiously while Robin fumed silently in the passenger seat. The old, cold anxiety burned in his guts. He hate-hate- hated to be late. His mother, Lucinda, was never on time, ever. She never cared, but Robin did. Everyone they met was exasperated. No one was ever happy to see him and there was nothing he could do about it.

Very early, Robin learned to always bring something to read. John Tunis, Matt Christopher, Michael Hardcastle. When Lucinda was late, he tore through books on the steps of the school until it got too dark to read. Then, he'd give up and walk the five miles home. It was Lucinda's fault for not coming, but the distance was on him. Robin was the one who'd gotten himself expelled from the closer school. On the rare occasions when she actually showed up, Lucinda was always late. She brought a litany of excuses with her.

Lost keys, wrong turns, car trouble, they were all lies. Robin didn't realize until child services started to come around in the fourth grade. They only made things harder. The law got involved and Una took it on herself to snatch him back to Albuquerque. Living with Una wasn't an improvement. Robin hated every moment under her roof. Lucinda was barely there, but she never told him what to do and never hassled him about schoolwork. Una was on him like a hawk. She ironed his shirts and talked to his teachers.

He had to do chores and go to bed when she said. If he even thought about talking back, she'd slap him hard enough to make his ears ring. Even worse, she made him go to church. Every Saturday was Confession. Every Sunday was Mass. The whole weekend was ruined. If Robin fidgeted the slightest bit, she'd yank him right out of the pew and drag him into the parking lot. He'd get a 'talking to' that would ache for days. The Falcon puttered to a stop in front of Duke Games.

Robin got out, in such a cloud he forgot his bag. He was halfway to the door when Una honked at him. He clenched his jaw and walked back.

"Robin," Una thrust the bag at him. She was just as mad as he was.

"Gracias," he said automatically. Thanks.

"¡Gana!" Una ordered. Win.