“I’m not angry at all,” said Matt. “Please tell me how María is doing. Is she very upset? I don’t want to bother her if she’s in mourning.”
“Mourning for what?” asked Sor Artemesia.
Matt was astounded. Hadn’t Esperanza told María anything? “There was some trouble concerning her father and sister,” he said cautiously.
“They can’t come home yet. Of course her mother told her—not that María would worry about that. Emilia is always picking on her, and her father continually tries to push her into marriage. She’s too young, of course, but he doesn’t want her to be a nun.” Sor Artemesia, once she discovered she wasn’t going to be scolded, settled comfortably in front of the holoport.
“Could you call her?” asked Matt, hardly daring to hope.
“I’m afraid her mother took her on a trip to Nueva York. It was a real surprise, because Doña Esperanza never takes her anywhere. But she says that María has become a little backward where social graces are concerned. She’s going to buy her pretty clothes and give her dancing lessons.”
And keep her away from me. Clever Esperanza, thought Matt. “Do you know where my friends Fidelito, Chacho, and Ton-Ton are?” he asked.
“Everyone knows where they are,” said Sor Artemesia, laughing. “When they’re not raiding the kitchen, they’re picking flowers and digging holes in the garden. Chacho is still recovering from his ordeal, but he follows along readily enough. Ton-Ton is the leader. And Fidelito! Why, he stuck his bottom out a window last night and mooned a night watchman. The watchman threw a stone at him and gave him a bruise to remember. Would you like to see your friends?”
“Yes, I would,” said Matt. Sor Artemesia, away from Esperanza’s critical eye, had turned out to be very likable. He could see the nun letting María shirk her lessons to do the good works she preferred. “Could they bring a picnic lunch? I wish I could send them something, but I don’t know how.”
Sor Artemesia smiled. “Don’t worry about it, mi patrón. We’ve practically got an assembly line feeding those boys.” She hurried off and Matt waited, wondering how long the holoport could stay open and how he could get Esperanza to release his friends.
Chacho arrived first. Then Fidelito burst through the door, to be yanked to a halt by Ton-Ton. “D-don’t you listen to anything, y-you turkey!” shouted the older boy. “Sister Artemesia says, uh, to stay away from that s-screen!”
“Matteo! Matteo! Matteo!” shrieked Fidelito at the end of Ton-Ton’s arm.
“I’ll b-beat the stuffing out of you!”
“You’re alive! My big brother!” sang Fidelito, not the least worried by Ton-Ton’s threat.
Matt had to swallow hard to keep tears from forming. Fidelito had called him brother! No one had ever done that. He was so moved he could barely speak.
“Are you all right?” said Chacho.
“Yes,” said Matt, struggling to gain control of his emotions. Chacho had lost weight in the few days since Matt had seen him, and his face looked haunted. “Are you okay?”
“No tengo chiste. So-so.”
“Me too,” said Matt.
“Are you living in a castle?” said Fidelito. “Sor Artemesia says you’re living in a castle and have thousands of zombie slaves.”
“If I had one, I’d tell it to eat your b-brain,” growled Ton-Ton. “Now sit!” He shoved Fidelito onto a floor cushion.
“Do your zombies eat brains?” the little boy asked excitedly. “Are they horrible and scary?”
“They’re only sad,” said Matt.
“Use your head, Fidelito. How could he find enough brains to feed thousands of zombies?” said Chacho. “Do you think he can put in an order to a company in Argentina?”
“As a matter of fact, they eat plankton,” said Matt.
“The same crap we, uh, had at the factory?” cried Ton-Ton.
“The same. Here they call it eejit pellets.”
“ ‘Plankton is the eighth wonder of the world,’ ” said Chacho, quoting the guards at the factory. “ ‘It’s full of protein, vitamins, and roughage.’ ”
“Especially roughage. It’ll take m-months to get rid of my zits,” mourned Ton-Ton. Sor Artemesia arrived with a large picnic basket, and Matt was grateful for the interruption. He had his own basket from Celia. The nun also brought a bird in a cage to amuse Fidelito.
“This is María’s latest patient,” she told the little boy. “It’s a finch. See? It has only one leg. María took it away from a cat, but by that time the damage was done.”