Salsa Stories Read Online Free Page A

José Manuel. Perhaps if he did this with us, his luck would change, and his grandma would allow him to play with us outside on the street.
    I thought about this as we bought our coconut sherbet and then ate it perched on the knobby roots of the ancient tree above the port. Excitement stirred in me while the distant ships disappeared over the horizon.
    â€œHow can we get José Manuel to go to the beach tonight?” I asked my sisters.
    â€œEvelyn, you know very well his grandma will never let him go,” Aitza said. “You know what she will say —”
    â€œÂ¡Muy peligroso!” Aitza and Amalia teased at once. “Too dangerous!”
    Â 
    It was getting close to dinnertime, and we knew we had to be home soon if we wanted our parents to take us to the beach that night. So we took the shortcut back across the main square. In the plaza, groups of men played dominoes while the women sat by the fountain and gossiped. Back on the street we heard the vegetable vendor chanting:
    â€œÂ¡Vendo yucca, plátanos, tomates!”
    He came around every evening to sell his fresh cassava, plantains, tomatoes, and other fruits and vegetables.
    Leaning from her balcony, a big woman lowered a basket that was tied by a cord to the rail. In it was the money that the vendor replaced with two green plantains. As we approached our street I saw José Manuel and his grandma out on the second floor. She gave José Manuel money and went back inside. He was about to lower his basket when I had an idea. Maybe there was a way we could ask him to join us.
    â€œWhat if we send José Manuel a note in his grandma’s basket inviting him to go to the beach with us tonight?” I offered.

    â€œIt will never work,” Aitza said. “His grandma will not like it. We could get into trouble.”
    â€œThen we could ask her personally,” I said.
    â€œBut what excuse could we use to go up there?” said Aitza. “Nobody ever shows up uninivited at José Manuel’s house.”
    â€œWait! I know what we can do,” Amalia said, jumping up and down. “We’ll tell him to drop something. Then we’ll go up to return it.”
    Even though Aitza was very reluctant, we convinced her to try our plan. We wrote the note and asked the vegetable vendor to please place it in José Manuel’s basket next to the vegetables. We impatiently waited on the corner as we watched. When he opened the note, he looked puzzled. He took the tomatoes he had purchased in to his grandmother. Soon he returned with his little red ball. He had just sat down to play when suddenly the ball fell from the balcony. It bounced several times, rolled down the hill, and bumped into a wall. Amalia flew after it. “I got it!” she called triumphantly, offering me her find.
    With José Manuel’s ball in my hand we climbed up the worn stairs of his pink apartment house. And while Aitza and I stood nervously outside his apartment trying to catch our breath, Amalia knocked loudly onthe wooden door. With a squeaking sound it slowly opened, and there stood José Manuel’s grandma wearing a frown as grim as her black widow’s dress.
    â€œÂ¿Sí?” she said. “How can I help you?”
    Aitza and I looked at each other. She looked as afraid as I felt. But without hesitation, Amalia took the little ball from my hand and proudly showed it to José Manuel’s grandma. I wanted to run, but a glimpse of José Manuel’s hopeful expression made me stay.
    â€œThis belongs to José Manuel,” Amalia declared. “We came to return it.” Amalia took a deep breath, then took a step forward. “We also wanted to know if he could come to the beach tonight with our family.”
    Aitza and I meekly stood behind Amalia.
    â€œThe beach?” José Manuel’s grandma asked, surprised, as she took the little ball from Amalia’s palm.
    â€œY-y-yes,” I