Street Kids Don’t Cry
‘What’s the commotion?’ asked Angelina, bobbing her head around the shelter entrance.
‘Uhm noise!’ mumbled Roberto. ‘Can’t anyone get any sleep around ‘ere? Shut up you lot, I’m sleeping.’
‘If you are, you’re talking in your sleep.’ Came the quip from Dolita with great amusement.
Roberto tutted ignoring her.
‘Will it hurt?’ whimpered Mikey.
‘Don’t think so,’ replied Hugo.
‘Don’t think s-o-o-o. Better be sure so!’
‘Listen, it can’t hurt as much as the pain you av now. Once it’s out the infection will drain. We’ll stuff your mouth with gel from one of Rocio’s plants, that’ll do the job.’
‘But what if it’s poisonous?’
‘You’ll die!’
‘Ugh!’
‘Oh shut up! Do you want it out or not?’
‘Yes, but…’
‘Ok, put up and shut up. Lean back and open your mouth…wider, wider…uno…dos…’
‘Ouch! Ouch!’
‘I haven’t done anything yet. What’s wrong with you? Stop behaving like a wimp,’ skitted Hugo.
‘What’s going on?’ mumbled Roberto, peering from beneath his dirty blanket.
‘Go back to sleep Roberto,’ snapped Miggy. ‘It’s just another shelter drama,’ he muttered turning to organise his new shoe shining box, which he had found earlier abandoned at the basura.
‘What you doing with those scary looking things?’ asked Dolita, Roberto jumping up to see.
‘Going to pull out Mikey’s rotten tooth.’
Looking at the pained expression on Mikey’s face. ‘Ergh! You are joking?’ she asked.
‘Listen!’ exclaimed Hugo. ‘Mikey’s been in pain for days. Look in his mouth; it’s all yellow and gammy!’
‘No thanks. We’ll take your word for it,’ said Dolita, wrinkling her face.
‘Well, it has to come out, only needs one quick pull with Deunoro’s pliers. Look, here comes Enrique. Remember you said you saw the dentist pull out some teeth at the Crisis Centre.’
Enrique the eldest of the kids, although sleeping rough with the others spent much of his time working with the educators at the Crisis Centre. He wasn’t ready to leave the streets.
‘The streets are in my veins,’ he used to say. He believed his place was to look after the younger ones.
‘Yeah, I saw someone having teeth pulled, but not with rusty old scooter pliers,’ he said grimacing as he snatched them from Hugo.
‘Pull the thing out then we can get some sleep,’ snapped Roberto, sniffing on a small packet of obnoxious looking stuff.
Dolita snatched it from him. ‘Don’t do that Roberto. You will end up like Bobby Sniff, dead in a doorway.’
‘Don’t care if I do,’ he mumbled pulling his sweater over his head.
Suddenly – Raggy Man, Dolita’s scruffy companion came hurtling into the shelter. Bozo, the dirty long haired German Shepherd came bounding a few yards behind, followed by a foul looking scrawny mongrel that no one had ever seen before. The cat with one eye who was happily curled up in the corner jumped, startled by the mass intrusion. Whilst Pygmy, Angelina’s pet mouse shot into her latest acquisition, a tiny emerald green bag, salvaged from the dump.
The voice of Papa Joe, the crazy Latin vendor, could be heard in the distance, in confrontation with one of the traders, indicating market day coming to a close.
‘I’m going down the market,’ said Hugo, ‘see what’s been left behind – anyone coming? Mikey if you still want your tooth pulling, I’ll do it later.’
Mikey looked fearful, but laughed a false pretend sort of laugh. The pain in his mouth was too much to bear. The previous night he had felt like banging his head against the shelter wall. What did he need teeth for anyway? He knew this chavo who had no teeth. Someone had knocked them out and he seemed to manage.
The kids strolled out of the shelter heading down the banking to the street below.
Suddenly Mikey shouted. ‘It’s ‘ere!’
‘What’s ‘ere?’ asked Rocio following behind.
He held out his filthy hand to reveal the dirty black tooth. ‘It fell out, I just pressed it and it fell out…lucky eh!’
‘Rotten to the core,’ exclaimed Rocio. ‘Now perhaps you will stop moaning. I’ll mix you that potion. The infection will soon drain away, but you will probably be in pain for another couple of days. The gel from the Aloe Vera plant will do quite well.’
She smiled, clipped his ear and feeling very useful, off she went to sort out her herbal remedy. Mikey returned to the shelter and threw himself onto one of the mattresses. He felt bad! Really bad!
‘Come on Dolita,’ said Manolo, prodding her in the ribs. ‘Let’s skip the market and take a walk over to the basura. Are you coming with us Angelina?’
‘Sure am.’ She quickly back tracked to the shelter, placed Pygmy in her little purple bag with a few bits of moss and foliage, gave a glance in the direction of One-eye, indicating don’t touch, and caught up with the others.
‘Manolo,’ asked Dolita, ‘do you ever think about your parents?’
‘No!’ answered Manolo abruptly. ‘What’s the point? My mother’s dead and I never had a father. So why did you ask?’
‘Cos, I think about my mother all the time, I want to find her.’
‘You’ve always been a dreamer,’ said Angelina – Manolo’s twin.
‘I’m not a dreamer. I’m going to find her. I know I am.’
‘Oh don’t be such an idiot,’ snapped Manolo, ‘as if that’s ever likely. Get real and stop dreaming Dolita.’
‘I’m going to find her,’ she snapped impatiently. ‘I’m going to find her. And don’t call me an idiot.’
‘Oh yeah! Well there is about as much chance of you finding her as there is of Angelina’s ‘#&@&!’ mouse learning to fly!’
‘Don’t make fun,’ screamed Dolita. ‘Arrgh! You make me so crazy. I will find her! And I’m not going to the basura. Changed my mind! I’m going to see Beeky.’
‘Don’t argue you two,’ shouted Angelina.
‘We’re not arguing.’
‘Yes we are,’ screamed Dolita as she stomped off.
Suddenly the idea of seeing her old friend Beeky, who lived in Calle San Felipe seemed appealing. Beeky was sure to give her some crusty bread and sardines, not to mention burritos and guacamole. Mmmmmm!
‘What got into her?’ asked Manolo. ‘She’s temperamental today.’
Angelina didn’t answer.
A little later, back at the shelter:-
‘For Heaven’s sake, what’s wrong with you?’ asked Manolo as Angelina began to throw bags in all directions.
‘I can’t find my little purple bag,’ she said looking extremely worried.
‘So – what’s the big deal?’
‘Duhhh!’ she said gritting her teeth – frowning furiously. ‘It’s my purple bag.’
‘And?’
‘Pygmy’s in my purple bag, and I can’t find it.’
‘I thought he was in your new emerald green bag,’ he said mockingly.
His sister and her obsession to collect stuff from the basura never made sense to him. She seemed to have the capacity to come back with something useless every time she went. ‘#&@&!’ coloured bags!
‘I put him in my purple bag and Maria Molina took it. She stole it!’ shrieked Angelina. ‘Maria stole Pygmy. When we went to the market she had the perfect opportunity.’
‘So what’s going on now?’ asked Dolita returning from Beeky’s.
‘Oh Dolita, Pygmy is gone…Maria Molina stole him, I know she did.’
‘Why would Maria steal Pygmy?’
‘I think I made her angry. I told her she was fat and ugly!’
‘Angelina that’s horrible. Why did you say such things? It’s not her fault if she’s fat and ugly.’
‘See, you think so too!’
‘No I don’t.’
‘You do, you just said it.’
Dolita studied for a moment. ‘Well if I thought it I would never say it.’
‘You just did!’ screamed Angelina.
‘I suppose Pygmy is in the bag,’ said Dolita changing the subject.
‘Yes, and I never wanted Maria Molina to stay at the shelter. It was your stupid idea.’
‘Look, I’m sorry if you can’t find Pygmy, but he can’t be far away. Where did you last put the bag?’
‘If I knew that, it wouldn’t be lost would it?’ she said hissing – looking as though she was going to cry.
‘Well, you’ve got a point, quite right.’ Dolita began to giggle.
‘It’s not funny,’ she screeched.
‘Ok, but I don’t think Maria would take your bag. What would be the point? She’s definitely not the bag type.’
‘I’ve told you, she doesn’t like me, she’s just being mean. Oh Dolita! Why did you ask her to stay here? I hate her, I hate her.’
‘Last night was horrible, it was raining buckets. She was so cold. I couldn’t have left her there in the street.’
‘Yes you could,’ said Angelina. ‘Yes you could.’
‘Think Angelina, think. When did you last have the bag?’
‘I…I remember…we went to the market and I put it there.’ She pointed to where Roberto was sleeping.
‘Be quiet you lot,’ he mumbled. ‘bag, purple bag – who’s looking for a purple bag? I have it,’ he said – producing the bag after searching endlessly under his blanket. ‘Ergh, took Pygmy out, must have fallen asleep and forgotten. Oh, ‘#&@&!’ Is he gone?’
‘Arrgh! Don’t you dare touch my things again,’ she shouted, snatching the bag from him.
As she opened it to find nothing – Roberto yelled.
‘What now?’ skitted Manolo, looking first in Roberto’s direction and then Angelina’s. Roberto threw off his blanket and sprang to his feet with a shriek. ‘The little ‘#&@&!’ mouse bit my toe.’
‘I have never seen you move so fast Roberto,’ giggled Dolita.
‘Ha! In future don’t touch my things,’ snapped Angelina, going to scoop up her little pet. ‘I hope he bit you hard. I’ll keep him here,’ she said producing a small suitcase found in the trash earlier that day.
‘So what’s so funny?’ asked Manolo responding to Dolita’s hysterical laughter.
‘Don’t you know the story about the suitcase and New Year?’ said Dolita.
‘No, what story?’
‘It’s superstition!’
‘Yeah – so, don’t keep us waiting. Tell us then,’ said Manolo.
‘Well they say that if you go for a walk at midnight with a case, its good luck and you will go travelling in the New Year.’
‘Who’s they?’ asked Angelina.
Now Dolita looked puzzled. ‘I don’t know they… people…’
‘What rubbish,’ mumbled Roberto.
‘It’s true, it’s good luck.’
‘So how do you know?’
‘Just do. I know about the red knickers too.’
‘Whaaat? I don’t know anything about red knickers,’ said Angelina curiously.
‘Its’ more superstition…’
Angelina interrupted. ‘Ooooh…I’m going for a walk down Calle Micalo with my suitcase in case it’s true. What do I need red knickers for?’
Now everyone was laughing at Angelina, she was so funny.
‘Tell me about the red knickers Dolita!’
‘Later Angelina – later.’
‘It’s nearly midnight,’ shouted Rocio.
‘Oh, almost forgot,’ exclaimed Dolita. ‘I saw Beeky today and she gave me some grapes. Let’s have fun Manolo. I never did do twelve grapes at midnight. It’s lucky! And guess what else; Rosa gave me some cheese and fruit when I passed her market stall.’ She looked around. ‘So where are they? I left them on the mattress.’ Mikey Mean had been sitting there. Dolita screamed as Manolo picked up a discarded cheese wrapper and an empty plastic bag.
‘M-I-K-E-Y!’ They both yelled.
‘Mikey you don’t change, you are so mean, and I thought you were supposed to have toothache?’ she cried.
‘Not now the rotten tooth’s gone.’
‘Well face ache or something,’ she said, as she turned her back and stomped out of the shelter.
She found a quiet corner and sat in the doorway of a small tobacconist, sheltering from the cool night breeze. Tossing her matted brown hair away from her pretty but dirty face, those large brown eyes began to water. She wanted to cry.
Would this year be just the same as last? Would it have been different if she had taken the twelve grapes?
Then she remembered – Street kids don’t cry!
