A fragrant aroma filled the kitchen as Jr’s mother open the deep fryer. She grabbed her tongs and carefully removed each croquete, placing them on the paper toweled plate. Jr and his best friend Charles swung their legs under the kitchen table as they raced each other to finish their math homework.
“Done!” Charles slammed his pencil down.
“Ugh, I only have two problems left. How do you always beat me?” Jr asked, hiding how impressed he was with his friend’s division skills.
“It’s hard to explain, but I have a system. I dunno; it makes sense in my head.”
“Teach me.”
“ ‘member when I tried to teach you my adding trick in 2nd grade? It’s kinda the same thing.”
“Oh never mind, then.” Though they received nearly all the same grades, Jr knew Charles was smarter than him. Absorbing his knowledge was just one of the reasons he liked having him around.
Pleased that the boys had finished their homework, Jr’s mother placed the now cool plate of snacks in front of them, two put aside for herself and her daughter. “I’d be worried about you boys finishing so fast if it wasn’t usually right.” She had long stopped checking her children’s homework, believing they’d catch their own mistakes. “Now, tell me more about this play? Your class is putting on the Wizard of Oz?”
Charles laughed. “No, Mrs. Almeida. It’s the Wiz.”
“I’m not understanding; that’s what I said.” Her English was nearly perfect, but cultural references were still lost on her.
“The Wiz. It’s like the Wizard of Oz, but the black one. My mom says it’s a negro classic. The music is soooo good.”
“Yeah, I want to be the Scarecrow,” Jr shouted.
Charles frowned. “I wanted to be the Scarecrow.” Jr started to offer up the role to him, but Charles interrupted. “That’s ok. I can be the Tinman. I’ve been practicing the robot, so I think I’ll be good for it.” He pushed himself from the table and began doing a decent pop-and-lock routine. Jr’s mom clapped along as Jr improvised a beat. When he spun around and stuck his hands up signifying he was done, he was met with light applause. Charles took a bite from his croquete as a reward. “Mmm, Puerto Rican food is so good.”
“No, Charlie. I keep telling you, we’re Portuguese,” she corrected the child, trying not to scold him.
“Por-te-guys. Got it. I’m sorry, Mrs Almeida. It won’t happen again.” She smiled, appreciative he was at least trying. Then the doorbell rang. “Mom!”
“I’ll get it. You stay in here and finish your snack. I don’t want crumbs on my carpet.” Jr’s mother answered the door and hugged Charles’ mother. “Deirdre, you’re early. I wasn’t expecting you for another half hour.”
“Traffic on the freeway was surprisingly light today. Did the boys finish their homework?” she asked.
“Yes!” Jr answered from the kitchen. “Charles and I are gonna be the Scarecrow.” The boys chuckled.
A worried look flashed across her face. “I see the school finally sent home the flyers for the school musical this year.”
“Are you ok? Charles told me you liked the Wizard.” Jr’s mom had a knack for noticing facial ticks.
“Huh?” Charles’ mother had to think for a moment. “Oh, the Wiz, yeah. I love it.”
“Then what’s wrong?”
Charles’ mom shifted her weight, unsure if now was the right time to bring it up, but there was no reason not too. So she whispered and leaned in. “Yolanda, don’t you ever feel like our boys should spend a little time apart? Pursue their own interests.” Jr’s mother stood still, her brow lowering a bit. “I just think Charles and Hector could benefit from finding themselves as individuals.”
“If you’re afraid my son is going to contaminant your son, then maybe you should enroll Charles in the AfterCare program and I’ll stop bringing him over here.” Jr’s mom began to walk away.
“That’s not wha--”
“No, it is. Listen to me, Deirdre.” She turned around to make sure the boys weren’t eavesdropping. “Let the boys be who they are. Society is changing. They’ll be accepted for who they are.”
“But it isn’t right!” Charles’ mother shouted. She covered her mouth, immediately ashamed of what she revealed about herself.
Jr’s mother sighed. “Charles, I think it’s time for you to go, buddy.” She turned back around to the adult in the room as Charles and Jr began to tiptoe into the room, holding hands. “He can keep coming the rest of the week, but I think you’ll be a lot more at ease if you looked into the after school program.”
Charles and Jr hugged goodbye, unaware that their friendship was soon to grow distant.
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