“Yes,” I answered.
“Why?”
“It’s a bad sign—”
“But nothing happens when I throw it.” He did it again.
“You will be punished—”
“When?”
“When you die,” I said.
“What if I go to confession?”
“Then your sins are forgiven, your soul is clean and you are saved—”
“You mean I can go out and sin, do bad things, throw fingers, say bad words, look through the peep-hole into the girls bathroom, do a million bad things and then when I’m about to die I just go to confession and make communion , and I go to heaven?”
“Yes,” I said, “if you’re sorry you sinned—”
“Ohhhhh,” he laughed, “I’ll be sorry! Chingada I will! I can be the worst cabrón in the world, and when I’m ninety-nine I can be sorry for being such a culo, and I go to heaven—You know, it doesn’t seem fair—”
No, it didn’t seem fair, but it could happen. This was another question for which I wanted an answer to. I was thinking about how it could be answered when I heard a blasting goat cry behind me.
“WHAGGGGGGGGGGGHH………..”
I ducked, but too late. Horse’s strong arms went around my neck and his momentum made us slide ten feet. Half of my face scraped along the thorn covered ground and came up covered with little bull-headed diablitos.
“Hey, Tony, you missed the fight!” Horse smiled into my face. He still held me in a tight embrace. His horse-eyes were wild with excitement and his big, yellow teeth chomped on something that smelled like spoiled eggs. I wanted to curse him, but I glanced up and saw Florence standing, waiting for my response.
“That was a real good tackle, Horse,” I said as calmly as possible, “real good. Now let me up.” I stood up and began pulling thorns out of my bloody cheek.
“What fight?” Florence asked. He dusted my jacket.
“Roque and Willie, down in the bathroom!” Lloyd came puffing along with the rest of the gang.
“¡Chingada! You know how Roque’s always teasing Willie—”
“Yeah,” we nodded.
“Willie’s your friend ain’t he?” Ernie asked.
“Yes,” I answered. Big Willie was one of the farm boys from Delia. He and George were always together, they never messed around with anyone. Willie was big but Roque picked on him because Willie never defended himself. He was timid, and Roque was a bully.
“Roque’s always singing: Willie Willie two-by-four, can’t get into the bathroom door so he does it on the floor—” Bones panted.
“And he always pushes you when you’re peeing and makes you wet your pants,” Lloyd closed his eyes in disgust. He took out a Hershey bar.
“Halfers!” Bones growled. Lloyd threw a piece of chocolate on the ground and while Bones retrieved it he stuck the rest in his mouth.
“¡Chingada!”
“That wasn’t halfers!” Bones growled, chewing on chocolate and sand.
“I had my fingers crossed,” Lloyd said haughtily. Then he stuck out his tongue and the chocolate mess in his mouth dripped.
“Ughhhhhhh!” Bones went wild, leaped on Lloyd and began strangling him. Then Horse got excited again and jumped on Bones.
“You could be sued for that—” Lloyd threatened as he pulled himself free from the pile. We continued walking and left Bones and Horse behind, slugging and kicking at each other.
“So why the fight?” Florence asked impatiently.
“Well, after school,” Lloyd said, “Roque went in and pushed Willie, but Willie must have been waiting, because he stepped aside and Roque almost fell in the bowl, anyway Willie continued peeing, and he peed all over Roque’s shoes—”
“It was funny as hell,” Ernie said, “seeing Roque standing there, and Willie peeing on his shoes—”
Horse and Bones caught up to us.
“And then old Roque slugs Willie—” Lloyd laughed.
“But Willie just stands there,” Ernie added.
“And then Willie busts Roque!” Horse cried out.
“And there’s blood all over the place!” Bones panted, and the thought of blood got them going all over again. Horse whinnied and reared up and Bones was on him like a mad dog.
“Roque was bleeding like a pig, and crying, and his shoes all wet—”
“Man, don’t mess with Willie,” Ernie cautioned. “Hey, he’s your friend, ain’t he Tony?” he repeated.
“Yeah,” I answered. I knew Ernie always weighed friendships. If Willie had lost the fight Ernie would be bothering me about it, but as it was I had somehow gained respect because I was the friend of a farm boy who made Roque’s nose bloody.