Arica, Chile
“AW, SHIT!”
Inside of Felipe’s bedroom, countless articles of dirty clothing laid across the floor, on chairs, and even on the floor at the edge of the closet door. It seemed, each shirt, pair of jeans and/or dirty sock had managed to find a strategic location, except the dark-blue plastic laundry basket his mother provided.
“What’s this?” Mrs. Alvarez said, seeing her dark-haired, tan-skinned, eighteen-year-old son lying across the top of his bed like a scrawny beached whale when she glanced into his room for the fifth time this morning to see if he had awoken or not. “You finally awake?”
Felipe lazily rolled over on his side so he could face her and promptly gave his mother a disapproving look. “Yeah. I’m up,” he said just before raising his hand to his mouth so he could block a yawn. “Does it really matter, though?
Mrs. Alvarez gazed at the pitiful scene in front of her and shook her head. “Not really. But it would be nice to see you do something productive once in a while. You know, like take out the trash like I asked you to do yesterday.”
Felipe glanced at the ceiling. “You did?” he said. “I don’t remember.”
His mother laughed. “I’m not surprised. After all, your eyes were glued to the boob tube at the time?”
“Boob tube?” Felipe stared at his mother with question marks in both eyes. “What do you mean?
“Our TV,” Mrs. Alvarez explained. “Back in the days when I was your age, that’s what we used to call it”
Felipe shook his head in disbelief. “Wow. They used to have TV’s in the days of dinosaurs?”
Mrs. Alvarez frowned. “Ha. Ha. Very funny, smart-ass. Now, getting back to what first got my attention. What were you saying ‘Aw shit’ about a few moments ago?”
Felipe’s cheeks instantly turned fifty shades of crimson. “Oh. You heard that?”
Mrs. Alvarez nodded.
“Uh,” Felipe began, stumbling on his words. “It really wasn’t anything, Mom, and I really didn’t mean to say it. It just sort of popped out when I got off the phone with Chad.”
“Oh?” Mrs. Alvarez folded her arms in front of her.
Felipe gulped, and his mother could see beads of sweat begin to form on his forehead.
“Yeah.” the teen continued. “Chad said he needed to talk. It’s something regarding his younger brother farting and it not smelling like a rose.”
“Excuse me?” Mrs. Alvarez said, glaring at her son as if the kid had lost his mind. Would you mind repeating that, Felipe?”
Her son’s eyes widened and his jaw dropped. “Oh. Sorry, Mom. I really didn’t mean to say that. I meant to say Chad was coming over because his dog died.”
Mrs. Alvarez negatively turned her head from side to side. “I don’t think so, Son. I know for a fact Chad and his younger brother, Jose, don't own a dog.”
“They don’t?” Felipe questioned. He then paused. “That’s right. You’re correct, Mom. They don’t. Hmm. That’s strange. I wonder why Chad said he needed to see me ASAP about his dog dying?”
New York City
Eric’s eyes were as wide as if he had seen a ghost, and the muscles in his throat had tightened. On his forehead, a wrinkle now appeared and his lips had turned into a perfect circle.
How dare Mike even suggest that? he thought before verbalizing his response. It’s totally irresponsible. After all, even being a country hick from Illinois, the guy should realize the danger in getting involved in one of Maria’s affairs. Look what happened last time.
“I take it you’re not too crazy about the idea?” Mike said shortly before Eric replied.
One of Mike’s brown eyes twinkled and he slowly sat down the cup of coffee he had been gripping in his hand as if this was just another run-of-the-mill conversation. He then paused and watched what might have been a suicidal pedestrian thirteen floors below trying to cross Times Square without regard to traffic.
“Just tell me,” Eric said, refocusing on his business companion. “If Jose Jr. is content with the idea of going to school without his older brother, then what’s the problem? Chad Jr. can attend the university in Santiago and things will play out what they may. What’s wrong with that?”
Mike laughed. “Oh, if it was only so simple, my friend. You should know anything which involves Maria certainly can’t be.”
Eric chuckled. “That’s true. So. What’s Maria wanting?”
Mike paused before answering.
It’s not like her request was something outrageous. It wasn’t. And Maria was certainly right about Chad Jr. would most likely be more willing to listen to him and Eric than he would his mother. Yet, did he want to get involved?
Should Eric and I get involved? Mike wondered.
“Well?” Eric said, still waiting for an answer.
Mike got up from his chair and motioned for Eric to join him by the window.
“Eric,” he began, staring at the traffic below in order to avoid a face-to-face conversation. His forefinger then began to slowly tap on the windowsill and his cheeks paled slightly and became taut. “Wouldn’t you say we have always been honest with each other – even when we knew the honesty would hurt?”
Eric gazed at his friend with an obvious ‘I wonder where this is leading?’ look. “Yes. Except for a couple of times while we were at college. Why?”
“Well,” Mike said, fidgeting. “What Maria has asked really isn’t all that bad even though I personally would prefer to stay out of people’s lives – especially if it deals with a relationship someone’s in.”
Eric blinked, and a knowing look appeared on his face.
“So. What you’re trying to tell me is, Maria wants us to intervene in a relationship Chad Jr. is in. Right?”
“In a way, yes,” Mike said with a nod. “But it’s a lot more complex than that. It involves ...”