The Charity Chip (9 page)

Julio followed Isabela out the front door and down to the second entrance. He saw Doctor Barilla making his way down the street. Isabela opened the door with a swipe of her hand and reminded Julio of the technology he would have to accept. As a member of Caritas, he would not only have to accept it but he would also have to embrace it, or at least let it under his skin.

Isabela’s heels clicked against the floor as they entered the cafeteria, and she made a beeline for the kitchen like she didn’t want to spend too much time babysitting. Julio could feel everyone’s eyes on him, or perhaps her. Either way, he felt that awkward sense of being the stranger in the room. Just as Isabela got to the door, a large woman met her.

“Oh good, you’re here,” said Isabela. “Here’s another street kid for you to feed.”

The corpulent cook in the doorway wore sweatpants and sneakers, and looked like she enjoyed her cooking just a little too much. Her black hair, sprinkled with gray, was pulled up in a bun on top of her head, and her thick glasses were partially steamed up. “Better another street kid than another
bomboncita
like you.”

Isabela struck a pose, like she was trying to make the older woman jealous, and then strutted back out through the foyer with her heels echoing against the tile floor.

The lunch lady’s face lit up in a satisfied smirk, and Julio could see that she was missing one of her front teeth. She wiped her hands on her apron that looked like it had been white at one time, and extended her thick hand to Julio. “
Hola, mi hijo
. I’m Carmen.”

Her hand was still wet when Julio shook it. “Nice to meet you,” he said. He was sure that Raúl wouldn’t approve of this woman’s looks, but based on the smells coming from the kitchen, Julio thought she was beautiful. “Julio Camino,
a las órdenes
.”

“Well, Julio, lunch will be ready in a few minutes.” She pointed at the bathrooms on the other side of the study area. “Go wash your hands and face before lunch. I want you to enjoy the food, but remember to eat everything you take. We don’t want to waste food.” She winked at Julio. “If Isak lets you into the program, I will treat you like one of my children, and my children do not go away hungry.” She smiled and exposed the gap in her teeth as her round face lit up with pride.

Maybe it was simply because he missed Mamá or because she was the first woman since Mamá to cook for him, but something about Carmen seemed familiar. Julio smiled back and headed for the boy’s bathroom still trying to figure out why she seemed so familiar. He expected to find the usual sinks and toilets, but true to Isak’s description, the bathroom included three showers stocked with soap, shampoo, and clean towels. He looked at himself in the mirror. He was filthy. He hesitated at the sink for only a moment, and then hurried over to the shower. He tossed his backpack and skateboard on the bench outside the shower, hung his dirty clothes on the hooks provided, and plunged into the stream of hot water. It felt good to be clean.

When he emerged from the shower, lunch had started and the round tables were filling up, but Julio didn’t mind not being the first in line. He felt cleaner than he had been in years. His mouth watered as he served himself a plate of
ají de gallina
, shredded chicken cooked with garlic, and
papas a la huancaína
, boiled potatoes smothered in yellow sauce. It was a far cry from the stale bread he had eaten that morning, but he remembered Carmen’s warning, and was careful not to take more than he thought he could eat.

All the tables except one were full when he finished filling his plate. The young woman he had watched enter the facility that morning sat by herself at the corner table picking at her food. Julio set down his plate of food and slipped off his backpack before taking the seat across from her. He smiled at her. She smiled back.

Julio was hungry, and the plate of hot food was inviting, but as he shoveled the hot meal into his mouth, he found himself sneaking glances at the young woman. She continued to pick at her food and take occasional small bites, but not with the same gusto that Julio did. She had a long slender face with a sharp nose, and her complexion was lighter than everyone else in the room. Her straight black hair was pulled back into a ponytail. Physically, she didn’t draw attention. Raúl would describe the young woman as plain, but her eyes were a mesmerizing dark green, and Julio found them captivating.

He paused his feeding frenzy for a moment and cleared his throat. “Is the food always this good here?” he asked.

The green-eyed girl looked up from her plate as if she were surprised to find someone sitting across from her. “What? The food?”

Julio felt his face turn red, and he tried to cover his rush of emotion with a smile. He swallowed and repeated the question. “Is the food always this good here?”

She looked down at her plate of picked-over food and gave a shrug. “Yes, I suppose it is.”

“You don’t seem to have much of an appetite.”

She looked at him like she was trying to figure out why he was talking to her.

Julio felt even more embarrassed. “I’m sorry,” he said as he extended his hand. “My name is Julio.”

She looked at his hand first and then straight into his face for a moment before she finally put her hand in his. “Angelica.”

The cold response felt awkward, and Julio returned to his lunch. Before he could finish, Angelica took her dirty dishes to the kitchen and hurried out the front door.

C
HAPTER
S
EVEN

El Exámen

(The Exam)

^T
he awkward feeling from the encounter with Angelica lingered with Julio as he finished his lunch, but it didn’t affect his appetite. He finished everything on his plate, and when two of the other boys went back for seconds, he was right behind them. He didn’t know where his next meal might come from, and he certainly wasn’t going to pass up hot food. He stuffed himself until he couldn’t eat another bite.

When he took his dirty dishes back to the kitchen, Carmen grinned, unashamed of the missing front tooth. “Did you get enough to eat?” she asked.

“Oh yes,” said Julio as he patted his stomach. “You do feed your children well.”

“
Buen provecho
. If you’re here tomorrow, you won’t have to stuff yourself,” she said with a chuckle.

Julio waddled back over to his seat and plopped himself down. He looked out into the study area. The group had thinned a little bit after lunch. Everyone was either at a computer with headphones on or reading a book. The two boys who had been playing chess earlier were gone. Even though he hadn’t been to school for several years, it seemed a little strange to Julio that no one was socializing, but then again, these were street kids, and trust wasn’t their strong suit.

Everyone was clean and well groomed. None of them had on fancy clothing, but everyone’s clothes fit, and they all had shoes. Unlike the crowd of street kids at the plaza every day, this group had an equal number of girls and boys. Likewise, nobody in this group was missing a limb, like the one-armed boy that sold matches.

He was curious and wanted to try out one of the computers. He walked over and jiggled a mouse, but nothing happened. He stood behind Graciela and watched her work several math problems before he sat down in the reading area and began browsing through the books.

Isak interrupted him with a question. “Did you enjoy lunch?”

Julio patted his stomach. “Yes, delicious.”

“Well, let’s find out if you get to come back for lunch tomorrow,” said Isak. He tousled Julio’s hair and added, “God willing.”

Julio grabbed his backpack and followed Isak across the study area to the small waiting room in front of the clinic. A tall redheaded woman in a lab coat was waiting for them. Her skin was fair, but her eyes were dark. She wore a dress that was only slightly longer than her lab coat and exposed her slender legs. Her face was cold and hard.

“Julio, this is Doctor Kozyar, our resident physician,” said Isak.

The redheaded doctor nodded without smiling. Julio nodded back.

“Oxana, um, Doctor Kozyar will conduct the physical examination and determine if you are qualified medically.” Isak looked at Doctor Kozyar and said something in foreign language. She gave a brief answer, and Isak unlocked the door with a swipe of his hand and departed through the back door.

Julio watched the doctor’s eyes follow Isak until he was completely out of sight. When she turned back to Julio, her eyes seemed colder and her face emotionless. Hoping to warm the exchange, he smiled at the beautiful doctor, but her expression didn’t change.

“Follow,” barked Doctor Kozyar with a thick accent. She swiped her hand over the scanner and shoved open the door to the clinic.

Julio obeyed. As he entered the clinic, he felt a chill. The room was brightly lit with a large hospital bed in the center. Around the edges of the room were various machines on wheels, and what looked like a large tool cabinet made of stainless steel. In the corner was a counter with a sink and several canisters of supplies. Above the bed was a large circular light attached to an adjustable arm. The room felt different than the warm cozy setting Doctor Barilla worked in. Julio shivered.

Doctor Kozyar pulled a green gown out of one of the cabinets and handed it to Julio. “Strip off all clothes and put on,” she said. Her accent was different than Isak’s, much thicker, and her Spanish was barely intelligible.

Julio took off his backpack and hesitated. He hoped she would leave the room as he changed into the gown, but she sat down at the computer in the corner and began typing. “Strip off all clothes and put on,” she insisted.

Slowly he began undressing, hoping she would stay focused on the screen, but he felt her glancing up at him as he peeled off his clothes. When he had stripped down to his underwear and the Saint Michael’s pendant, he began fiddling with the green medical gown to put it on.

“Remove undergarments,” she demanded as she continued to type.

Julio hesitated.

She looked at her watch and then gave him a glare. “Remove undergarments.”

He glared back at her and slipped on the gown first. Then he pulled off his dirty underwear. He was glad he had showered earlier. He still wore his pendant, and the metal chain felt cold against his bare chest. Tying the gown in the back well enough to keep from exposing his bare bottom was an impossible task, but he did the best he could. As he finished he looked up to find the doctor standing in front of him holding out a small plastic cup.

“I need urine sample. Go to bathroom. Fill cup with urine up to this line.” She pointed to a mark on the cup. “Do not to get any on cup. After you fill, put lid on tight and wash hands,” she said with emphasis on the last two words. “Bring cup and place on tray next to computer.”

Julio took the cup, and Doctor Kozyar returned to her computer. Then with the cup in one hand, and the other hand trying to keep the back of his gown closed, he shuffled out the clinic door and hurried to the bathroom hoping no one was watching. He followed the doctor’s orders meticulously. He deposited just the right amount of golden fluid into the cup, tightened the lid, and washed his hands. After drying his hands, he grabbed the cup of warm urine in one hand, the back of the gown in the other, and shuffled back to the examination room without making eye contact with anyone in the room. When he pushed against the door with his shoulder, the door didn’t budge. It was chip-activated, and he hadn’t been chipped yet. He stood there with one hand holding his gown shut in back and the other holding his urine sample. He could feel all the eyes in the room resting on him like they were waiting to see what he would do. Without looking back, he set the cup on the floor, knocked on the door, and picked up the sample. A few seconds later, Doctor Kozyar opened the door, and Julio deposited the cup on the tray as instructed.

“Stand on scale,” ordered Doctor Kozyar.

He stepped forward and stood motionless on the cold metal scale still holding the back of his gown. She mumbled something unintelligible as she jotted down Julio’s height and weight information and then sat back down at the computer.

“Sit on examination table. I need personal information,” she demanded in her heavy accent.

Julio tried to keep his gown closed in back and hopped up on the end of the table. His bare feet dangled over the edge.

“Full name,” she demanded.

“Julio César Camino de Pachacutec,” he answered with pride. She typed as he spoke, but never asked about spelling.

“Living relatives?”

“None.” He hoped his quick answer would hide his deception.

“How did parents die?” asked Doctor Kozyar injecting more force. “We need to know if disease you carry,” she added.

Julio paused but then answered truthfully, “My father was shot to death by the police during a union protest. My mother died of pneumonia four years ago.” He felt a pang of sadness stab him as he answered.

The interrogation continued for a few minutes as Doctor Kozyar asked about his eating habits, sleeping habits, hygiene, and drug and alcohol use. After she finished typing, she stood and put on a pair of latex gloves and grabbed a stethoscope. She slipped the stethoscope into her ears and slipped her hand through the slit of the gown. The listening end of the device was cold against his bare skin.