Two
Tia Marta is on the warpath. You can see that by the way her eyes turn into little slits when she sees us as she walks on the sidewalk toward Nana's house. Her two girls are too young to play with us. We are relieved, mostly because they act like babies and we are tired of their forever bringing up how Texas was stolen from Mexico. "They study history like they mean it here in Guerrero," says Artie to Linda. Alice stayed to help her mother with getting supper started. Alice is like that and Artie isn't. "Who cares about the Alamo anymore, that happened, what, a hundred years ago, right?" Tia Marta acts like we aren't even there when we catch up behind her on the sidewalk. Her two little girls stayed at home where she has a beauty shop.
Artie is the first to guess why Tia Marta is acting colder than normal. "She heard." "She heard what?" asks Linda.
"Pues," she says like people from Arizona do every ten seconds, "She heard about our going riding with the boys last Sunday night." "Get out. How do you figure she heard?" "Somebody had to have seen the gringas going riding with the boys, pues in the convertible." "Do you think they also told her that we went 100 miles an hour in that car with those boys on the road over the dam?" "Pues I don't know about that, prima. Just in case, don't say anything about that, OK? I have to tell you how to do everything!" "No way, man. No way."
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