Return To Sender Part 2

But instead she seems delighted. "They fly all the way to Mexico?" When Tyler nods, she adds, "Just like the mariposas." mariposas."

"Mariposas?" Tyler vaguely remembers learning that word in his Spanish cla.s.s. Tyler vaguely remembers learning that word in his Spanish cla.s.s.

"b.u.t.terflies," she explains. "They're those little orange and black b.u.t.terflies and they go to Mexico in the winter. I saw it on TV. They have another name."

"You mean monarchs?" Tyler offers.

"Yes!" Mari's face lights up again.

Tyler loves how every word out of his mouth seems to surprise her. It's wonderful to be the teacher for a change. And he's also learning some Spanish words from her, which is sure to impress Ms. Ramirez this fall. "b.u.t.terflies, birds." He counts them off. "I guess everybody wants to go to Mexico."

Mari beams proudly. She gazes out the loft door as if she is looking for something. "Which way is it to Mexico?" she wants to know.

"Thataway," Tyler says, pointing southwest. "But it's not like you can see it from here," he teases, because she is leaning out the window like she might catch a glimpse of it.

She pulls back. "I know," she says, sounding embar-ra.s.sed.

"Mari! Mari!" a man's worried voice suddenly calls out.

"My father," Mari says, hurrying toward the ladder. "Please don't tell!" she calls out as she climbs down out of view. A minute later, Tyler spots her running across the backyard to the dark figure standing at the lit- up trailer door.

Coming in from the barn, Tyler is surprised to find his parents still sitting at the kitchen table, having a serious conversation.

"Tyler, son," his dad greets him. "Come have a seat, will you?"

Uh- oh, what now? Tyler wonders. He's allowed to leave the telescope in the loft of the barn as long as it's out of the way. The flashlight is back in its cubbyhole by the door. It's almost as if he's giving himself a once- over to be sure there's nothing incriminating on his person. All these secrets peo-ple are asking him to keep are making him feel like he's living in a scary universe.

"Son, I know you're wondering why we asked you not to go telling folks that we got some Mexicans working for us."

Tyler sits down, feeling relieved. Finally, the big mystery will be explained to him.

But his mother is shooting glances at his father. "We haven't yet decided how we're going to approach this," she reminds him.

"I think the boy should know. What if there's a raid or something?"

A raid?

"Are we doing something wrong?" Tyler is shocked. All his life his parents have taught him to obey the laws and respect the United States of America. In fact, one of the names they toyed with for the farm was Patriots' Farm, an-other name Sara vetoed on account of it sounded too much like a football training camp. Just as well they don't have a name. That way it won't be all over the paper: patriots'

farm raided for breaking the law.

"It's not wrong in G.o.d's eyes," his dad explains. Some-times, a country has these laws that have nothing to do with what's right or what's best for most of the people involved. Turns out Mexicans need a certain doc.u.ment to be working in this country. "They all say they have it and that's all you need to know, legally," his dad adds. "These three Mexicans showed your mom and me their cards with Social Security numbers. So your little friend-"

She's hardly his friend. But Tyler has to admit, the lesson tonight just flew by. He hasn't had this much fun stargazing since Gramps died. Even looking through the big telescope in Boston was kind of lonesome with no one to share his ex-citement. Aunt Roxie and Uncle Tony would hang out downstairs in the cafe drinking wine while Tyler waited up-stairs in line.

"Her reaction this afternoon, about being born in Mex-ico, well, that tells me that, no, they're likely not legal," Dad goes on.

"So what are we going to do?" Tyler asks. This is upsetting. Illegal people are living on their farm. "Should we call the police?"

Dad uses his left hand to hold up his limp right arm. "How badly do you want to stay on the farm, son?" His voice sounds bitter. His face looks suddenly as old as Gramps's. He pushes back from the table and limps out of the room.

Tyler puts his head in his hands. But it's no use. The im-age of his father's pained walk lingers in his head. He has never liked being the little kid in the family. And yet, if being a grown- up is this confusing, he wishes he could go back to that happier country of childhood. But it's sort of sad how the minute you realize you've left it behind, you can never go back again.

September 15, 2005 Esteemed Mr. President, My name is Maria Dolores, but I can't give you my last name or anybody's last name or where we live because I am not supposed to be in your wonderful country. I apologize that I am here without permission, but I think I can explain. My teacher at my new school, Mr. B., said for our first big writing project we could write anything we wanted. So I decided to write to you because I understand you are the one in charge of the United States.Most of my cla.s.smates are writing stories about what they did over the summer. My new friend, Tyler, is writing about seeing the stars through a very powerful telescope in a museum in Boston. Another boy in cla.s.s named Kyle said he was writing a shopping list of everything he wants his parents to buy him! Mr. B. said that was fine as long as Kyle told a story about the importance of each item on the list. You can't trick Mr. B. for anything, although this boy, Kyle, always keeps trying.I couldn't think of what to write about my summer, and the list of things I want is so long it could stretch all the way to Mexico! Mr. B. came around, checking on our first paragraphs. When he saw my blank paper, he suggested I write about my family and our culture.But I am too afraid to call attention to our family being from Mexico because my cla.s.smates might turn us in. And it is not as simple as all going back to our homeland, because there is a division right down the center of our family. My parents and I are Mexicans and my two little sisters, Ofie and Luby, are Americans. It is just like the war of slavery in this country we learned about. Mr. B. explained how sometimes in one family, a son would be fighting for one side, another son for the other. I love what one of the presidents before you, Mr. Abraham Lincoln, said: "United we stand, divided we fall."Mr. B. explained that this statement is now true for our whole world. He is always teaching us about saving the planet. We are all connected, he says, like an intricate spiderweb. If we dirty the air here in the United States, it will eventually blow over to Canada and maybe kill a bunch of people there. If some factory poisons a river in Mexico, it will flow into Texas and people will die there.I even thought of my own example! Those swallows that Tyler says fly to Mexico for the fall and winter. Just a week ago, they all left. Suddenly, the backyard was so quiet. I miss them so, and I worry that something might happen to them on the way to Mexico."Our earth is already in trouble," Mr. B. tells us. Something else I worry about. What if it gets so bad that everyone on the earth will be like Mexicans, trying to get to another planet that won't let us in? But Mr. B. says no other planet in our solar system has the water and air we need. "We earthlings have to get our act together p.r.o.nto." p.r.o.nto." He winks at me when he says this Spanish word. He winks at me when he says this Spanish word.Tyler says that is why he is glad he lives on a farm whose name I can't give you even if I could give it to you as the family still has not decided what to name it. Sometimes they all sit around the table trying to agree on a name. This is the way a democracy works, where every person has a vote. My sister Ofie, who is always asking questions, asked Tyler what happens in a democracy when no one can agree. Tyler said, "Then you try to get a majority."I have seen you on the television, Mr. President, saying that you want democracy for this whole world. I sincerely hope you get your wish. But that will mean that if everyone in this world gets a vote, the majority will not be Americans. They will be people like me from other countries that are so very crowded and poor. We would be able to vote for what we want and need. So this letter is from a voter from that future when you would want to be treated as fairly as I am asking you to treat me.Please, Mr. President, let it be okay for my father and uncles to stay here helping this nice family and helping our own family back home buy the things they need. Every week, my father and his brothers each contribute forty dollars to send to our family in Mexico. This total is more than their father used to make in a whole month. He was a farmer, working from sunrise to sunset. But now he is an old man, Mr. President, as old as you are-although he looks much older. But the companies that buy corn and coffee did not pay enough for him to be able to even buy the stuff he needed for the next planting.I know this must seem like an untruth because coffee costs so much in this country. The other day Tyler's mother took us to Burlington, and after she bought us ice creams, she stopped by a shop where all they sell is different kinds of coffees. A big cup was almost two dollars! Mr. President, please believe me that those two dollars are not reaching my family. In fact, as Tio Armando says, we have come north to collect what is owed to us for our hard work back where we came from.I wish I could be that bold in thinking I have a right to be here. Most of the time, I am just afraid of la migra- la migra-that is what we call the immigration police, Mr. President. What if they find me and separate me from part of my family?I would also feel bad if we brought any trouble to this nice family who treats us like we are related to them. Most every day when Papa begins his afternoon ch.o.r.es, my little sister Luby, who only has school a half day, goes over to the grandmother's house, and when Ofie and I get home we go pick her up.This grandmother lives all by herself in a big house because the grandfather died not too long ago. Every time she remembers something about him, she cries, and tears start in my own eyes, remembering my own grandmother who died and my mother who has been gone for nine months and one day. When she sees my tears, this grandmother throws her arms around me and says, "You are a sensitive soul, Maria." Ofie makes fun, saying that I cry so much because my name is Maria Dolores, which means Mary Suffering. But Mrs. S., the princ.i.p.al at our school, told us that Ofie's name comes from a lady named Ophelia who went crazy and drowned herself in a river because her boyfriend went crazy, too. My sister better be careful not to spit in the air, because like our father says, it will fall in her very own face!This idea of a crazy boyfriend makes me think of Tyler. No, he is not a boyfriend, which I am not allowed to have until I am way older. But Tyler is a friend who is a boy. I have watched him carefully since his older sister informed me that her brother has not been well. A few times, I even asked him how he was feeling, and he looked annoyed that I would think there was anything wrong with him. In fact, the only time he seems worried is when Mr. B. starts talking about the future of the planet, which is enough to worry anybody.The other day in cla.s.s, we learned how the ice caps are melting and the poor penguins and polar bears have nowhere to go. Riding home on the bus, I looked out the window at all the red- leaved trees that looked like they were burning up with fever. "Are you sure they're okay?" I asked Tyler, who just sighed because this wasn't my first time asking."Mari, it happens every year."In North Carolina, where we used to live, the trees changed color in the autumn, and the leaves fell, but here everywhere you look the trees are on fire."Tyler." I lowered my voice. I didn't want the other kids to hear. Tyler might get impatient with me, but he keeps being my friend. "Do you think what Mr. B. says is going to happen to the world will happen?""Sure, only like a hundred times worse." The way he said so, it sounded like he was looking forward to the opportunity to be brave. "But not till we're really old.""How old?""I don't know. Maybe like Grandma." Then he unzippered his backpack and showed me a notebook with his plan. According to Tyler, if the planet gets into trouble, farms will be the best place to be. In fact, farmers are going to be the most important people in the world because they will be in charge of the food! But since on this farm I only see cows, I think we will all get very tired of milk for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. But Tyler says that out of milk we can make cheese, and the dead cows will be meat, and from the garden we will have vegetables. As for dessert, we will make a syrup from a tree called the maple. I am so glad Tyler has a plan. I feel even more lucky that we have landed on his family's farm.Also in his notebook was a list of all the people who would be allowed on the farm in case there's an emergency. My family's names were on it, but also the names of some cla.s.smates who are not so nice, Clayton and Ronnie. "How come you're inviting them?" I asked. "I'm inviting everyone in our cla.s.s," Tyler explained. Later, I was shocked to think I wanted to leave those two boys out ... just like I'm being left out of this country.But, Mr. President, I would not ask you to let in any criminals, and these boys are like criminals. They pick fights and say mean things.They behave themselves in cla.s.s but when we are out at recess they turn nasty. I've tried asking Mr. B. if I can just stay inside when the others go out, but when he asks if I feel ill and I say no, he says that fresh air is very important for the human body. These boys say the very same things as the kids in North Carolina used to say about me being an "illegal alien" who should go back to where she came from.Usually an older brother picks up these two boys at the end of the day. But yesterday for some reason, they rode the bus home. I was sitting with Tyler, who was drawing the night sky and showing me where all the different constellations would be in the next few nights."Hola, buenos dias!" a voice called out. I could tell it was Clayton without looking up. But Tyler was so absorbed in his lesson that it took him a moment before he realized Clayton was talking to us. a voice called out. I could tell it was Clayton without looking up. But Tyler was so absorbed in his lesson that it took him a moment before he realized Clayton was talking to us."You got yourself a little Mexican girlfriend." Clayton and Ronnie had ducked back a few seats and squeezed in with Rachel and Ashley in front of us. The two girls were giggling into their cupped hands like these bullies were funny. Meanwhile, Mr. R., who drives our bus, is so hard of hearing that unless he happens to catch troublemakers in the rearview mirror, they can get away with making somebody's life very unhappy."Stop it," Tyler said, but instead of continuing with his lesson, he put his notebook away in his backpack."Stop it," Ronnie imitated in a whiney girl's voice. "Hey, Maria, how do you say stop it stop it in Spanish?" in Spanish?"If Luby had been there, she would have remembered. But I was too frightened to think of anything except how I could get away from these two boys and still not break the rule of staying in your seat while the bus is moving. Across the aisle several rows up, Ofie had turned around, and her eyes were as big as the roll- around eyes on Luby's little dog. I just hoped she would keep her mouth shut and not tell the whole bus that these bullies shouldn't make fun just because I was Mexican."You don't know how to say stop it stop it in Spanish?" Ronnie put on this shocked face like he couldn't believe anybody was that stupid. "Hey, Clay, this girl's not just illegal, she's a dummy!" in Spanish?" Ronnie put on this shocked face like he couldn't believe anybody was that stupid. "Hey, Clay, this girl's not just illegal, she's a dummy!"Clayton must have thought that was funny, because the two boys rocked with laughter. They got so loud that up front Mr. R. glanced in his mirror. "Simmer down back there!" he hollered.Clayton leaned over so his face was real close to Tyler's. His voice was an ugly whisper. "Your dad's breaking the law! You should all be thrown out along with them!"This time Tyler didn't say a word. His face just reddened the way white people's faces do when they get upset.Meanwhile, my sister Ofie was breaking the rules and marching up the aisle toward Mr. R. But instead of getting upset with her, Mr. R. pulled over and came lumbering toward the back of the bus. The minute he saw four kids squeezed into a seat for two, he knew who the troublemakers were. "You and you!" He pointed to Clayton and Ronnie. "I want you up at the front of the bus. Now!" There was no arguing with Mr. R., who might be hard of hearing but is tough on kids who cause trouble. Tyler says he used to be the wrestling coach at the high school.The rest of the ride was so quiet that you could hear every s.h.i.+ft that Mr. R. made in his driving. The whole time, I was hoping that Tyler would look up and maybe smile to show he was sorry for how mean the boys had been. But instead he ignored me like he wanted me to disappear. Finally, when Mr. R. dropped us off, instead of walking with Ofie and me up the driveway like usual, Tyler ran ahead without even saying goodbye."He must really have to go to the bathroom," Ofie said. She always thinks of something smart to say.Of course, we both knew why Tyler was upset.I was upset, too. "I wish you'd just keep quiet!" I yelled at Ofie. "You made things worse!"My sister stopped and faced me, a hand on each hip. "Mari, those boys were being bullies, and Tyler should have told them to stop!" We both knew she was right, but it was easier to be upset with her than with Tyler.Later, when we were returning from the grandmother's house with Luby, I saw Tyler in the distance coming out of the barn. I waved. At first, he pretended not to see me. But I called out to him and hurried over. Of course, my tail followed. I turned and told my sisters to please go wait for me in the trailer. "This is private.""We have to protect you," Ofie said."Doggie too," Luby chimed in, holding up her little puppy."Please, por favor," por favor," I pleaded. We always say it twice to be extra nice when we want a favor. I pleaded. We always say it twice to be extra nice when we want a favor. "Dora "Dora is on. Go, hurry, so you don't miss the beginning. I'll be right there." I knew this was bribery, but I desperately wanted to speak with Tyler alone. My sisters love the cartoons, especially the one about this little girl who speaks Spanish but is American like them. The television is a gift from the grandmother, who no longer needs two. I guess when her husband was alive, he always wanted to watch sports, and the grandmother preferred other programs, like one where a black lady like our Cristina talks to people about stuff that makes them cry. When she told us about the two TVs, the grandmother herself started to cry. is on. Go, hurry, so you don't miss the beginning. I'll be right there." I knew this was bribery, but I desperately wanted to speak with Tyler alone. My sisters love the cartoons, especially the one about this little girl who speaks Spanish but is American like them. The television is a gift from the grandmother, who no longer needs two. I guess when her husband was alive, he always wanted to watch sports, and the grandmother preferred other programs, like one where a black lady like our Cristina talks to people about stuff that makes them cry. When she told us about the two TVs, the grandmother herself started to cry.Once my sisters had left, I walked toward Tyler, who just watched me, no smile or greeting. His face reminded me of the black holes in outer s.p.a.ce he has told me about that just swallow stuff up. I slowed my steps as I got close, afraid I would disappear forever inside his frown. I wondered if maybe Tyler was falling ill again with the malady that his sister mentioned was the reason he had been sent away over the summer."Tyler, can we do a star lesson after supper?" Several nights in the attic of the barn we had looked through his telescope at the stars."Nah, not tonight. It's gonna cloud up," he said in a voice that was almost as unfriendly as the first time I met him.I looked over his shoulder at the clear evening sky. He was not giving me the real reason. But then, I wasn't asking him the real question I wanted to ask him. I pushed myself to be bold and brave. "Are you my friend?" I asked in a trembly voice that was the opposite of brave and bold.Tyler just shrugged, which I knew meant he wasn't sure anymore. I felt a black hole where my heart used to be. "It's because of what the boys said on the bus, right?" I was acting as nosy as my sister Ofie.It took him a moment to look up. In his blue eyes I saw little pieces of the beautiful blue summer sky that was now gone until next year. "Just tell me one thing, okay? Do you have the doc.u.ments my dad said Mexicans have to have to work here?"Mr. President, I could not tell a lie, just like another of the presidents who went before you, Mr. George Was.h.i.+ngton, after he cut down the cherry tree. I told Tyler the truth. And then I added many of the things I am writing in this letter. That it was not my fault that I was here. That my parents brought me to this country when I was four years old. That I didn't have a vote like you do in a democracy.He was quiet for a while before he spoke up. "I know it's not your fault, Mari," he began. "I know that if your dad and uncles hadn't come, we wouldn't be able to stay on the farm. But still"- Tyler's voice suddenly sounded like he was going to cry-"I'd rather lose the farm than not be loyal to my country."I'm sorry," he added because tears had come to my eyes. "I'm sorry because I really like your family." And then he walked away.There have been a lot of sad moments in this country, but that moment of a new friend walking away was one of the saddest.That is why I am writing you, Mr. President. I can't share my sadness with anyone else, because if I tell Papa about the boys on the bus, I am almost sure he will pull us out of school.I also know you can't even write me back as I can't give you my full name and address. Please believe me, Mr. President, that I would if I could. I just don't want to worry anyone. That is why I am not telling my father that Mr. B. is planning to mail this letter. Mr. B. explained that without last names or an address, I won't get anybody in trouble. He is the one who says that you need to know what is going on in your country. How even kids who would otherwise be friends have to turn away from each other.Tonight at midnight, Mr. President, when it turns into the 16th of September, it will be our Fourth of July in Mexico. It is the date when our country first became independent. And guess how the revolution started. A priest rang the bell to wake up all the citizens to freedom. So now, every 15th of September at midnight, our president in Mexico comes out on his balcony overlooking the huge square in our capital, full of hundreds and thousands of people like we have seen on the television for the New Year's Eve in New York City. All over Mexico, people are waiting for the sound of liberty.At the stroke of midnight, our president rings that original bell that has been carried to his balcony for this special night. Then he cries out "Viva Mexico!" "Viva Mexico!" which means "Long live Mexico!" The crowd cries back which means "Long live Mexico!" The crowd cries back "Viva!" "Viva!" Then the president says it again and again, three times in all, and the people cry back, each time louder, Then the president says it again and again, three times in all, and the people cry back, each time louder, "Viva!" "Viva!"Tonight, Mr. President, I am going to stay up until it is midnight. Then I will tiptoe through the trailer and come outside and lift my arms just above my shoulders to find the North Star the way Tyler has taught me to find it. I will turn in the opposite direction, facing toward my homeland. "Viva Mexico!" "Viva Mexico!" I will cry out in my heart. Three times, I will cry out in my heart. Three times, "Viva Mexico! Viva Mexico! Viva Mexico!" "Viva Mexico! Viva Mexico! Viva Mexico!"But because, as Mr. B. says, we are all citizens of one planet, indivisible with liberty and justice for all, I will also turn toward where you live in your beautiful white house, Mr. President."Viva los Estados Unidos del Mundo!" I will cry out to myself. "Long live the United States of the World! I will cry out to myself. "Long live the United States of the World! Viva! Viva! Viva!" Viva! Viva! Viva!"

Very respectfully yours,Maria Dolores

WATCHED-OVER FARM.

Sometimes when Tyler is looking up at the night sky, he thinks he sees his grandfather's face. It doesn't always hap-pen because his mind automatically wants to connect the dots into a constellation, but sometimes if he stares long enough, a star will wink. Or a shooting star will go by. Or a meteor shower. Gramps! It gives Tyler a brief warm feeling to think his grandfather might indeed be watching over him.

If he mentions these visitations to his mom, there might be another trip down to Boston to visit Aunt Roxie and Uncle Tony. Actually, it's almost Halloween, which is one of Party Animals' busiest times of year. So Tyler will probably not be sent anywhere but to the counselor at Bridgeport. Tyler doesn't even want to imagine what Ronnie and Clay-ton will do with that piece of information. Looney Tunes Tyler, he can already hear them chanting.

It still hurts not to have Gramps around. Everything on the farm, from Ben's daily absence to the silence in the barn now that the swallows are gone, to the rolling pastures covered in frost and mist in the early mornings, to the bright stars that seem to grow brighter as the cold sets in- everything feels doubly empty without him. But no one, ex-cept Grandma, wants to talk about missing Gramps. The best way to get over his grandfather's death is not to dwell on it, Tyler's mother has told him.

But Tyler doesn't want to get over Gramps's death. For-getting about his death means also forgetting about his life, and then Gramps would really be dead. On the other hand, Tyler doesn't want to upset Grandma, and at any little mention of Gramps, she melts into tears. There's got to be a hap-pier way to stay in touch with Gramps. And the stars are the closest Tyler has come, even though they are millions of light-years away.

It makes sense that his grandfather would want to com-municate using stars. After all, Tyler's grandfather was never a big talker. It's amazing how much he taught Tyler without a whole lot of explaining, stuff about farming and fis.h.i.+ng and finding your way using the stars. Last Christmas, it was Gramps who gave Tyler a telescope. On the gift tag, he'd written some words that Tyler now treasures: Anytime you Anytime you feel lost, look up. So many times this summer and fall Tyler has done just that! So many times this summer and fall Tyler has done just that!

As for the telescope, Tyler has moved it back to his bedroom, since it's getting too chilly to be stargazing from the barn loft. But that's not the only reason. Moving the tele-scope lets Tyler off the hook. He doesn't have to feel bad about not inviting Mari over to watch the stars. In fact, she never asks anymore about the next stargazing lesson. Her fa-ther is super- strict, and if it's not okay for a girl to be with a boy in a barn with two hundred cows and two uncles plus her father going in and out, then it's definitely not okay to be alone with a boy in his bedroom at night.

Tyler knows it's not Mari's fault that her parents snuck her into this country. He doesn't like being mean to her, but he also doesn't want to be friends with someone who is breaking the law, even though that law, according to his dad, needs changing.

In school, he can't avoid her since they are in the same cla.s.s. But in the morning at the farm, when they board the bus together, it's trickier. A few times Mari has headed to where Tyler is sitting, but then there's a little hesitation, and she goes and sits with her sister Ofie and sometimes with Meredith and Maya, some cla.s.smates who have sort of made Maria their project. These are the same girls who are most active in Earthlings, the new club Mr. Bicknell has started for saving the planet.

But Tyler has to admit that watching the stars by himself makes him miss Gramps even more. Especially now that Tyler feels so confused about how his parents are maybe breaking the law. He can't talk to Mom, who would just lecture about freedom and justice and liberty for all, and Dad would feel bad that he can't do all the work himself, and Ben is never around anymore, and Sara is a blabbermouth, and Grandma would get upset that Gramps can't help out because he's dead. That covers all the adults in his family, and Tyler wouldn't dare mention what's going on to anyone who isn't related. As it is, he thinks the farm is already being watched by Homeland Security. Recently, someone has been calling, then hanging up when Tyler or Sara or Mom answers. Sara is sure it's her ex- boyfriend checking to see if she's home.

"Stop being a pest, Jake!" she sometimes hollers into the phone, and Mom has to remind her of her phone manners.

"But he's being rude."

"Two rudes don't make a right," Mom says. "Besides, I think it's someone trying to reach the Cruzes." Even though the Mexicans have their very own phone in the trailer, the only number they had when they moved from North Carolina was the Paquettes'. "I just wish whoever it is wouldn't hang up so I could give them the right number." A lot of times now, Mom just lets the call go to the answering machine, where callers are cheerily invited to leave a message and have a nice day. Sometimes, Tyler will play and replay the blank pause before the hanging up, for clues. But all he can make out in the background is a bunch of static and maybe the sound of traffic on a freeway. Meanwhile, his dad is sure the calls are from bill collectors wanting to talk to him. And since Tyler's dad would never think of picking up a ringing phone if anyone else is in the house, there's no way to find out if he's right.

What Tyler is hoping is that his dad will soon be one hundred percent recovered. According to the doctors, Dad is a miracle case. He can now move the fingers on his right hand, and though he still limps, he's getting around much better. Best of all, his sense of humor is slowly coming back. If he keeps improving, Dad will be able to do a lot of the farmwork himself, with help from Corey and some parttimers and Ben on occasional weekends and Tyler whenever he doesn't have to be in school. Then his dad will be able to send the Mexicans away before he gets into trouble.

Tonight, a clear night, Tyler studies the stars, thinking about Gramps. This late, Mars is out, big and bright, the closest it's been to Earth in two years. As he watches, the outside light comes on at the trailer next door. A figure emerges, too small to be one of the men and too tall to be little Luby. It's either Ofie or Mari, but something about the way the shadowy figure moves, not perky and sure of itself, makes him guess it's Mari. Tyler has turned off the lights in his bedroom to see through the telescope better, so when she looks up in the direction of his window, he is almost sure she can't see him watching her. Still, he pulls to one side be-cause suddenly he wants to spy in case she is up to some-thing illegal.

Mari walks up the slight incline behind the trailer to the field where the cows graze. The moon is on the wane, but it's still a pie with half its pieces left, so there is enough light to watch her by. Midfield, she stops and gazes up at the sky, slowly turning west, south, east, full circle. She must be cold, because she pulls up the hood on the parka that Mom got her at Neat Repeats, but it keeps falling when she throws her head back. After several slow circles, she stands very still, looking at something in the night sky. Tyler angles the telescope up, searching for what she might have spotted above the farm. The North Star, the Little Dipper, the Dragon, the Swan. No meteor showers. No fireb.a.l.l.s. Nothing unusual.

But then, gathering stardust and moonbeams, a face begins to form. Gramps! He is smiling down ... at the girl in the field as if it is someone he is looking after. Clearly, his grandfather thinks it's Tyler behind his house late at night. Tyler wants to call out, Over here, Gramps!

But as Tyler is wondering how to catch his grandfather's attention, the girl in the field lifts her hands as if waving goodbye. Then she turns back to the trailer and Gramps's face disappears from the sky.

The next day after the three Marias have returned to their trailer, Tyler heads for his grandmother's house. She might not be the best choice to talk to about the Mexicans, but at least she's willing to talk about missing Gramps. Maybe Tyler can indirectly ask if Gramps ever broke the law besides the one time he got a fifty- dollar ticket for driving at night without a reflector on the hay wagon. Gramps could have gone to court and argued that the darn thing must have fallen off as he was driving home from the neighbor's field. But he couldn't hold up his cows' milking schedule to go to town to swear on a Bible that he hadn't done anything wrong.

Tyler lets himself in the back door. "Grandma!" he calls out.

"I'm up here, honey." Her voice is coming from one of a warren of little rooms that form the upstairs part of the house, which she hardly ever uses anymore. The stairs have gotten to be too much for her arthritis. In fact, Grandma has moved her bedroom downstairs to what used to be the sewing room, so it's surprising that she has ventured upstairs. But then, Grandma is big on decorating for holidays. She probably went up to the attic to bring down her plastic jack-o'-lantern, which she'll be wanting to plug in to let kids know they're welcome to drop by for her homemade cookies and candy corn from Wal- Mart.

Tyler still remembers the day Grandma brought the jack-o'-lantern home. Gramps's only comment was "We got a whole patch in the backyard."

But Grandma said that with her shaky hands she was liable to cut off a finger carving a grin in one of those small pumpkins. "Besides, I'm saving them for pies." That shut up Gramps, who loved all of Grandma's pies, but most espe-cially her pumpkin pies.

Up in his grandparents' old bedroom, Tyler finds his grandmother in a rocking chair, facing a dresser covered with a white tablecloth. On top are trinkets that Tyler recognizes as belonging to Gramps. Several of his grand -father's favorite fis.h.i.+ng lures are lined up by his John Deere cap, as well as his army medal and a pipe he stopped smoking but would still stick in his mouth from time to time. There's also a little dish with pistachios, which Gramps really liked, plus a plate with a slice of pumpkin pie. In the middle of this array, sitting on the big family Bible, is the framed picture of Gramps taken only last year, when he turned seventy-six.

Beside the Bible, there's an envelope with some writing on it. The whole thing reminds Tyler of an altar at church except piled up with all of his grandfather's favorite things. Tyler has been worrying that his family is forgetting Gramps, but this is the weirdest thing he has ever seen.

"Isn't it nice?" His grandmother is smiling fondly at the picture of Gramps. Tyler is not sure what his grandmother means, but he nods. One thing that is nice is that his grandmother is talking about Gramps without crying.

"I knew you'd understand, dear." Grandma rocks hap-pily, as if pleased to have proven herself right. "We decided to put it up here because, well, the others might not under-stand."

Tyler is not sure he understands, either, especially when Grandma says "we decided." Who is "we"? Tyler is afraid to ask and find out that his grandmother has gone loony with grief and is talking to Gramps the way people do in the movies. But then, Tyler himself has been seeing his grand -father watching over the farm from the night sky. And he knows he isn't crazy.

"Every time I'm missing him, I come up here now and visit with him," Grandma goes on, rocking herself cheer-fully. Just last night, Mom mentioned that Grandma seemed to be doing a lot better. But Tyler's mom thought it had to do with Grandma's relief at seeing her son's recovery. "If you'd like to add something"-Grandma nods toward the altar- "I think Gramps would like that."

The first thing that pops into Tyler's head is his telescope that Gramps gave him. But if he brings it over, he won't be able to look at the stars from his own room or spy on the Mexicans.

"Pull up one of those chairs there," Grandma is saying. For some reason seeing three chairs lined up against the wall makes Tyler think of the three Marias. Do they know his grandmother has gone a little batty? If so, they have been really nice about not telling anybody or making fun, but in-stead visiting her daily. Tyler feels a flush of grat.i.tude but also shame, thinking about his own behavior toward them.

"Our little neighbors told me all about this," Grandma is explaining as if she can now read minds. "Did you know, in Mexico, they don't celebrate Halloween like we do?"

Tyler nods. He does know all about it. Ms. Ramirez has been doing a unit on the Day of the Dead. It's a big holiday in Mexico, and it's not just one night but three days, starting with Halloween. Whole families go to the cemetery and have picnics with their dead relatives. Very creepy stuff.

"Our dead are always with us," Ms. Ramirez told the cla.s.s. "We take them their favorite foods, sing their fa-vorite songs. We even write them letters, telling them what they've missed in the last year." She showed pictures of little sugar skulls with the names of everyone in the family, even those who are still living.

As Ms. Ramirez spoke, Tyler's gaze was drawn to Mari's face, which seemed suddenly lit up from inside like a jack-o'-lantern. Some memory was making her look radiant. Tyler found himself staring, and when she glanced his way, he couldn't help himself, he smiled. But instead of her smiling back, her face darkened as if the light inside her had gone out. Next thing he knew, Ms. Ramirez was calling on Mari, asking her if she'd tell the cla.s.s some more about the Day of the Dead in her native land.

Mari had looked down, shaking her head, embarra.s.sed. But later when Ms. Ramirez asked the cla.s.s to each write a letter to a loved one who had died, Tyler noticed that Mari started writing right away. Most of the cla.s.s was complaining that they didn't know any dead people. Clayton flat out refused on account of his family didn't believe in voodoo stuff. "We're Christians," he bragged. That was when Ms. Ramirez went into a long explanation about how most Mexicans are Christians and the Day of the Dead is actually an example of how the Church took Indian beliefs and gave them a Christian spin. But Tyler could tell Clayton wasn't buying it.

"The girls told me about how they build altars to their relatives who have died, most especially the ones who've died in the last year," Grandma is explaining. "So I asked them if they'd help me do one for Gramps. I don't call it an altar," Grandma adds quickly as if she might get in trouble with Reverend Hollister at church. Tyler's grandmother is the most churchgoing person Tyler knows. Both his parents go to church-though Dad often misses because of some farm emergency-and they insist their kids go, too, as long as they are living at home. But Tyler's grandmother will ac-tually go to church all during the week, as she is on every committee you can think of where cooking and flowers are involved, which kind of covers most of them.

"I call it a memory table," Grandma goes on. "It's just been so nice to be able to do this and talk to the girls about Gramps, you know?"

Tyler feels a knot in his throat. Of course he knows.

"Maria told me all about her grandmother who died last December. Her mother traveled back home to Mexico and got to see her right before she died. She's on her way back- the girls' mother, that is," Grandma adds, letting out a sigh.

Tyler feels bad all over again that he didn't get to spend Gramps's last few hours with him in his garden. Gramps died right before summer vacation, on Tyler's last day of school. Gramps had gone out midmorning to check on his peppers and tomatoes, and by the time Grandma called him for lunch, there was no bringing him back. Grandma found Gramps stretched out in the pathway as if he'd waited to have his heart attack until he'd laid himself carefully down so as not to fall on top of his fragile seedlings. Tyler came home that June day to find his mom standing by the mailbox, waiting with the news. Besides the day of Dad's accident, the day Gramps died is the worst day of Tyler's life so far.

Sometimes, Tyler will find himself thinking, What if? What if it had been one day later and cla.s.ses were done?

What if he had been helping plant the garden when Gramps had his heart attack? Tyler would probably have been able to call for help in time to save Gramps, just like Tyler helped save Dad's life after his accident. These are the kinds of what- ifs that make Mom say Tyler mustn't dwell on Gramps's death. Best to move on.

"So anyhow, dear, I'm glad you dropped by so I could show you before we take it down in a few days." Grandma suddenly looks bereft, like she might be losing Gramps all over again. "I don't know ... " She hesitates and glances over at her husband's picture, trying to decide something. "Maybe I'll just take away the perishables like the pie on ac-count of ants. But leave this little spot for us to remember him." Grandma looks relieved. "Anytime you're missing him, Tyler dear, you just come over."

Tyler can't help feeling remorse. He has been avoiding Grandma's house so as not to b.u.mp into the Mexicans. But that doesn't mean that he hasn't been feeling a big black hole in the center of his life. "I've really been missing Gramps," he admits, and then, as if that admission uncorks the rest of his feelings, he tells his grandmother how Gramps is watching over him. How sometimes the stars seem to form his grandfather's face. Other times, Tyler'll see a shooting star just as he's thinking, Gramps, are you there? As he talks, his grandmother keeps smiling and nodding, which encour-ages Tyler, so that he goes on to mention the phone calls and all the stuff he was not going to talk to her about. Like about the Mexicans.

"Gramps wouldn't have let Dad break the law, would he?" Tyler glances over at his grandfather's picture on the table. It's as if Tyler is hoping Gramps will settle this matter for them all.

"Actually, dear, your uncle Larry's had Mexicans for a while over at his place," Grandma explains. "Your dad wouldn't hear of it, until, of course, the accident made him reconsider. But when your uncle Larry told us, you know what Gramps said? He said, 'We Paquettes came down from Canada back in the 1800s. n.o.body but n.o.body in America got here-excepting the Indians-without somebody giving them a chance.' That's what he said. 'Course, he would have preferred that Uncle Larry wait till it was legal. But the cows can't wait for their milking till the politicians get the laws changed. They'd still be waiting."

Tyler can't believe his own grandfather might have been some sort of revolutionary rebel! Like that priest that Mari told about in cla.s.s for Mexican Independence Day. How he rang the church bell, waking the whole sleepy town to fight for their freedom.

"So, honey, I think Gramps would understand," Grandma is saying. And that same tender smile she had when she was gazing at Gramps's picture she now has on her face as she gazes over at Tyler.

Before Tyler goes home that day, Grandma invites him to come to supper next Wednesday, November second-the actual Day of the Dead, the three Marias have told her.

"We'll have a little supper party for him," she tells Tyler mysteriously. "Just us remembering Gramps, that's all, honey," she adds, more normally.

"Should I bring my telescope?" Maybe after supper they can look at the stars like he used to with Gramps. It's also getting to be the time of year for the Taurid meteor shower.

"That's a lovely idea," his grandmother says. "We can set it up in the garden ..." She doesn't have to say what Tyler is also thinking: on the very spot where Gramps died. It sounds crazy, but talking about Gramps is actually making Tyler feel as if his grandfather, while not exactly alive, is at least still a part of Tyler's life.

And so, Wednesday after school, Tyler lugs his telescope across the field and sets it up in Gramps's garden. That evening when Grandma lets him in the back door, Tyler sees he is not the only guest. Just as he suspected, the three Marias have also been invited to this special supper. They are helping decorate the table, but they stop when he enters. They look startled, maybe even a little scared, like that first day at the trailer door.

"This is Maria Guadalupe," Grandma says, picking up a framed picture that was keeping Gramps's picture company in the center of the table. At first, Tyler thinks this might be the girls' mother. But the photo shows an old woman about Grandma's age standing in a raggedy dress in front of a tumbledown shack that looks like it's made of cardboard. In-credibly, as poor as she is, she's smiling widely, revealing several missing teeth.

"That's our grandmother," Ofie explains. "She's dead."

"Abuelita," Luby says, but when Tyler looks over at her, she hides behind her oldest sister.

"We brought candles and lids to set them on, Grandma," Ofie says, pulling out tiny candles as well as a bunch of jar lids from a paper bag.

Tyler is surprised that the girls call his grandmother Grandma as if she is their family. Actually, he is the one feeling like the stranger in this company. But then, he has been avoiding them for weeks, though he has been spying on the family every night. If Homeland Security has also been on the watch, they must be awful bored with how little there is to report. TV sounds, some nights someone plays a guitar and everyone sings, other nights a girl goes out in the back field and stands there for a while looking up at the stars.

"I brought my telescope," he offers, feeling empty-handed, wanting to contribute something. "After dinner, we're all going to watch some stars." He says this to all of them, but of course, he means it for Mari. Finally, summoning all the courage he's been saving up for when the planet gets in trouble, Tyler looks over at Mari, and this time he is rewarded. She returns the smile he gave her in the cla.s.sroom a week ago.

Dinner is delicious-all of Gramps's favorite things, as well as Coca- Colas because c.o.ke was one of the special treats that Mari remembers her grandmother, who died right before Christmas last year, really liked. Abuelita was too poor to buy c.o.kes except on her saint's day, Mari says her mother told her. Her grandmother also really liked mole, a sauce made with chocolate, so the girls have brought some Her-shey bars Tyler's mom gave them for Halloween. They've piled them on a little dish by Abuelita's picture.

After dinner, they all put on their coats and go out to the garden. Tyler leads the way, guiding the group with a flashlight. Grandma tells the girls how much her husband loved his garden, how he had a green thumb, and when the girls gasp, Grandma laughs and explains how this expression means someone is a natural- born gardener.

They stand in the chilly air while Tyler points out the stars visible to the naked eye: Ursa Major and Ursa Minor, the two bears; Draco, the dragon; Ca.s.siopeia, which looks like a W W or an or an M M on it side; Pegasus, the flying horse. Then they all take turns looking through the telescope. on it side; Pegasus, the flying horse. Then they all take turns looking through the telescope.

"I don't see anything!" Luby keeps saying until they discover that she is closing her eyes instead of peering through the eyehole. "I see lots and lots of stars!" she exclaims at last. "I see a beautiful lady!"

"You do?" There is a thrill in Mari's voice Tyler has never heard before.

"Let me see! Let me see!" Ofie nudges her little sister over. But after a minute of looking, Ofie gives up. "You're lying!" she accuses her little sister. "That's not funny."

"I am not," little Luby says, sniffling. "I saw her. I really did. She was winking at me!"

"Liar-" Ofie begins.