Lucy Doesn't Wear Pink (34 page)

“We’re done cuttin’ you slack. We’re gonna wipe this field up with you guys this half.”

Behind her, Gabe growled, but Lucy waved him off.

“So?” Chin Hair said.

“So — nothin’. We’re just here to play soccer.”

The whistle blew again, and the refs ran back onto the field, with two players. One was just a shorter version of all the other Pachucos. The other — was J.J.

“I love that!” Veronica cried.

Mr. Chin Hair sent his voice up into a mocking soprano. “I love that!”

But Lucy didn’t care. She grinned at J.J. and said, “We’re just forward and back — play your specialty.”

J.J. nodded, the whistle blew, and they were off again.

Having J.J. with them seemed to give everyone fresh energy. Although the Pachucos played harder and faster than they had in the first half, the Dreams kept the ball as much as they did. Nobody scored a goal, on either team, but the Dreams came so close twice that Lucy could feel the whole town holding its breath.

And then the mistakes started happening. Emanuel kicked the ball out of bounds. Carla Rosa got offsides twice, and Lucy could tell she was getting confused. J.J. had a perfect slider, but he got his foot on the defender instead of the ball and was called for tripping.

“Stay cool!” Lucy told them.

But hair was standing up in spikes and faces were f lushed beyond chili pepper color and Carla Rosa’s eyes looked as glazed as Mr. Esparza’s pottery. But it was Mr. Esparza — and Mr. Benitez — and Gloria — and all the rest of them chanting Mora’s cheers that kept Lucy encouraging her team, telling them they could do it. And so they kept playing.

The Pachucos scored another goal, even though Oscar did everything but throw himself in front of a train to stop it. It wasn’t his fault. The other seven of them hadn’t stopped it either. The Dreams looked def lated. Lucy herself was close to tears.

And then she heard something. At first, her beyond-tired mind thought it was Mom — telling her, “Come on, champ, you can do it!”

But in reality, it sounded more like a Chihuahua yelping.

“I’m tired, Lucy,” Carla Rosa said as they scattered for a throw-in.

“Guess what?” Lucy said. “So am I — but we’re not gonna quit until it’s over because the Dreams don’t die.”

“Yeah!” someone else said.

It was J.J. And then it was Oscar and Emanuel and Dusty and Veronica. And even Gabe.

“The Dreams don’t die!” they chanted. “The Dreams don’t die!”

Suddenly more people were saying it. The people in the stands. Mr. Auggy on the sideline. The Dreams don’t die!

Lucy felt knots untying inside her, one after another, until she was one long string that moved silkily toward the ball that some Pachuco tossed carelessly onto the field from the sideline. It was hers, and she dribbled it straight at the goal.

J.J. appeared like a gift, and she passed it to him. His pass back was a little high, but she took it with her head. The crowd turned itself inside out. J.J. got it to Dusty, and Lucy ran toward the line her team brothers had formed ahead of her. The wide-shouldered goalie yelled at his teammates, and they shifted to the left where Dusty was headed. She passed the ball to Gabe, who lunged right. The wall went with him — and Lucy had the perfect shot. All she needed was the ball.

But Gabe wouldn’t give it up. She knew that. Sure, they had their agreement. But this was a real game. He would want the glory.

“Lucy Goosey!”

Gabe gave the ball a smack and sent it straight to her. She had to get it with her left foot — but Mr. Auggy really had taught her everything. Without waiting for it to get any more perfect, Lucy took her shot. The goalie dove — his body seemed to hang in midair — and then he was down. The ball nestled itself safely into the corner.

Lucy was sure the crowd didn’t cheer that loud at the World Cup. She only faintly heard the whistle blow, only vaguely knew the game was over, only partly understood that they had lost by one point.

She could only hear her Dad yelling “Champ!” and Januarie yelping like an entire pound and Mora leading the crowd in “The Dreams don’t die! The Dreams don’t die!”

“But, guess what, we lost,” Carla Rosa said.

“I know,” Lucy said, “but we played.”

“And they loved us,” Veronica said. “I love that!”

And as Lucy wiped at the happy tears, she did too.

20

Pasco announced a party for everyone at the café. It was lunchtime, and he said the grilled cheese and chicken nachos were on the house. Lucy’s mouth watered — she even hoped there were pickles — but she was still too excited to eat.

To her surprise, the Pachucos sat down with the Dreams, which brought Mora to no end of squealing. She took pictures of all of them with her camera phone. Veronica, of course, said she loved it. Januarie hung on Mr. Auggy’s arm until Lucy invited her to sit with them. She jumped on some Pachuco’s lap before Lucy even had the words out. Fortunately, he acted like he might have little sisters and was used to it.

Mr. Chin Hair nudged Lucy’s arm and said, “Hey, no offense. I was just tryin’ to throw you off.”

“It’s okay,” Lucy said.

“I didn’t, though. You play good — for a girl.”

“She plays good for anybody.” Gabe poked Oscar. “Right?”

“She’ll kick your tail around the block,” Oscar said.

Dusty leaned her head on Lucy’s arm. “And look cute doing it.”

“But she hates pink,” Veronica said. “I love pink — ”

Lucy was put out of that misery by the squeal of the microphone Reverend Servidio was trying to adjust. Mr. Benitez stepped up to it and cleared his throat like he had the biggest hairball yet.

“I bet he’s gonna yell at us for losing,” J.J. whispered to Lucy.

But people didn’t usually yell after they said, “I have never been prouder in my life than I was today.”

People whistled and clapped until Mr. Benitez put up his hand.

“I was so proud to see my team, representing my store, give the El Paso Pachucos a run for their money.”

“What do you mean ‘your team,’ Benitez?” Pasco said. “It’s our team — our town’s team!”

The room burst into clapping and cheering again.

“You’d think they were the ones out there playing,” Gabe said behind his hand.

“They kind of were,” Lucy said.

“So — ” Mr. Benitez waved down the whistling again. “I for one am going to vote at town council to turn down the offer of a big corporation to buy our soccer field!”

There was more cheering, and Lucy thought she would burst. The noise kept on until Mr. Auggy took the microphone. Then Gabe stood up and told everybody to listen.

“I share your pride, Mr. Benitez,” he said. “I have played soccer all over the world but this — this is my Dream Team.”

“He really is attractive.”

Lucy jumped at the voice in her ear. Aunt Karen was crouched down behind her chair, running her hand down Lucy’s arm. “I was proud of you today — I really was.”

“Thanks,” Lucy said. She swallowed down a rising knot. With Aunt Karen, there was always a knot. “Thanks for bringing the team.”

“They’re nice, aren’t they? I told them to go easy — that I just wanted the coach to see you play.”

Lucy looked back at the table, but the team all seemed focused on cheering for Mr. Auggy. “You told them to go easy on us?” she said to Aunt Karen in a low voice.

Aunt Karen licked her lips. “I’m not some kind of ogre, Lucy. I know that’s what you think, but I didn’t want you made a fool of — I just wanted you to see — ”

“I don’t want to talk about this now.” Lucy said. And she turned back to her team. When she looked again, Aunt Karen was gone. But the sting was still there. At least the other team members hadn’t heard that. And she was never going to tell them.

In fact, it was 2:00 before the El Paso coach stood up and said his team needed to head for Texas. The Dreams walked the Pachucos out to their van, complete with cheerleaders, and Lucy was sure she saw Mora exchanging cell phone numbers with one kid. Inez was too busy talking about roses with Mrs. Benitez to see her.

When they pulled away and Lucy’s team was still on the sidewalk, Aunt Karen planted herself in front of them.

Oh, nuh-
uh
.

“You have a good little team,” she said, as if she knew anything about soccer.

Lucy heard J.J. grunt.

“Is Lucy a good captain?”

“She’s the best,” Dusty said.

“I’m sure. She’s always been bossy!” Aunt Karen laughed. Nobody else did. Not even Carla Rosa.

“I hope you won’t be too mad at me when we take her away from you next year.” She put her arm around Lucy’s shoulders and gave her a squeeze. “Our coach wants her for his girls’ select team. I’m sure you don’t know what that is, but it’s a huge honor. I don’t see how she can pass it up.” She smiled into Lucy’s face. “It’s what her mom would want her to do.”

She gave Lucy’s shoulder one more squeeze, smiled at the team, and clicked over to Dad and Mr. Auggy. She was in high heels now, and the turquoise jacket was gone. Lucy had never wanted Aunt Karen to move to Australia or Mars or anywhere more than she did at that moment.

“Are you really moving to El Paso?” Dusty said.

“Why didn’t you tell us?” Oscar poked Emanuel. “That’s messed up.”

Every face in front of her was fixed in an I-don’t-believe-it stare.

“I didn’t know,” Lucy said.

“But are you going?” Veronica looked at Dusty. “She’s leaving us?”

“No!” Lucy said. “I don’t know — ”

“We just got our team and our field — ”

“Yeah, but if her mom would want her to — ”

“Guess what — she loved her mom — ”

“Stop!” Lucy said.

Five minutes ago, she would have told Aunt Karen right there on the sidewalk that she was never moving to El Paso with her and she might as well give it up forever —

And then she’d said those words: “It’s what her mom would want her to do.”

Would she?

The biggest knot ever tied itself around Lucy’s heart. Because she didn’t know. Up until the moment Aunt Karen had said those words, Lucy had felt like she knew what her mom wanted her to do: be like her. And that was what she wanted too. But this Lucy didn’t know. It wasn’t in any of the stories Dad told or in the smells she left behind or in the furniture she’d painted for Lucy’s room. That was all she had of Mom, and that didn’t tell her what to do next.

And she was never going to know.

“You okay, Miss Lucy?”

Mr. Auggy was at her elbow, and the team was gone. Dad stood on the other side, cane ready.

“No,” Lucy said.

“We’ll be okay from here,” Dad said.

He nudged her arm, and Lucy let him hold on to it. They walked down the block to their house in the still-warm March day without talking, until they got there and he said, “Let’s sit on the steps a while.”

When Lucy got them situated, Dad said, “I heard.”

“You mean Aunt Karen?”

“I heard what she said, about your mom.”

Lucy was suddenly afraid — afraid Dad would know something that would mean she had to do what she didn’t want to do.

“That was a dirty trick — her using that.” His voice was sharp. “I told her so too.”

“But — Dad — was it true?”

“Only your mother could really tell you that.”

“Then I’ll never know.”

“Fortunately, your mother was like you.” Dad chuckled. “She always made her wishes known — always.”

Lucy shook her head. “I don’t get it.”

“There was a piece of paper that — got lost with your mom — but I know what she wrote on it.”

“Dad — ”

“ ‘Things I want to teach Lucy’ — that’s what she wrote down. She shared it with me when we were f lying to Iraq. ‘Number one: How to play soccer like Mia Hamm, or at least like me, which isn’t all that bad.’ ” Dad’s face flooded with sunshine. “ ‘Number two: How to love with everything she has, because that is the only way to love.’ And ‘Number three,’ which is my favorite part, ‘How to be a woman, as soon as I find out myself.’ ”

Lucy was afraid to speak, afraid her voice would make her mother’s beautiful words disappear.

“She was going to write that in a book she bought before we left,” Dad said. “But she was afraid she’d mess it up, so she left it behind, though I have no idea what happened to it.” He chuckled. “She had the worst handwriting. She wanted to collect all her lists for you on pieces of paper and then copy them into the book when we got home.”

“I have the book, Dad.” Lucy squeezed her shoulders in. “And I’ve been writing in it. I should have asked you, but — ”

“You found it?” Dad searched the sky with his unseeing eyes, as if he were looking for Mom herself. “Where was it? Never mind, Luce, you keep it. It should be yours — and your mother would love that you’re writing in it.” He felt for her hand and held it, hard.

“Aunt Karen doesn’t think so. She found out that I have it — I don’t know how, but — ” Lucy’s eyes went to Januarie’s house. “Well, I think I do now, but anyway — ”