Chapter 6

Tossing Armando Through The Dining Room Window

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TOCAYO
Part 1
Prologue
Playa Norte
Charly the American
A Catholic Education
Cold Showers
A Peruvian Name...
Tossing Armando...
Bob Cousey's Shorts
Inside Immaculada
Warming the Bench...
A Little Socrates...
Running From Lola
Ping Pong Politics
A Perfect Basketball Day
A Man Needs His Friends
A Pig In a Hole
Condors Over Ticlio
Wrestling in the Plaza
Handcuffs and Curfews
Rochabus
A Hero Hiding
Hitting A Brick Wall
Part 2

We walked into pandemonium. Carmencita, my youngest sister, was squealing, thrilled by the terror of running away from our shirtless ten year old brother Fernando, who was holding an inkwell and illustrator's pen in one hand and using the other to keep his ink- splattered, unbelted pants from falling off. He was screaming hoarse threats at her while a maid, also screaming, tried to catch Carmencita so she could protect her from Franco. When Carmencita saw me, she jumped into my arms.

"Hola Carmencita!" I shouted before turning my back to protect her from Fernando. Due to the state of his pants, Fernando was unable to get around me, so he set down the inkwell and pen, cinched up his pants and then lunged at me. I leaned back against the wall and planted one of my size 12's in his chest, sending him sprawling across the foyers' large slate stones, where he began to scream curses at me. Mamina came out of the kitchen and walked calmly up the hallway to the foyer. When she reached us, she helped Fernando off the floor and gave me a stern look.

"I was protecting Carmencita," I shouted in my own defense.

In the nick of time Fernando saved me. Outraged at me for denying him satisfaction with Carmencita, he let fly with a long string of obscenities, shocking Mamina, who put her hands on her hips and scolded him. Then she asked him what he did to his pants.

"Carmencita did this to me!" he shouted, outraged and dismayed to find himself the victim instead of the perpetrator. A greater injustice he could not imagine.

Mamina looked at Carmencita, who hid her face in my neck, then at the maid who had picked up the inkwell and pen Fernando had left on the ground, then at Charly. She spoke to Fernando, first. "Hijo mio, haven't I warned you about playing with Armando's pens? Serves you right for getting into things that don't belong to you. Now give your pants to Geralda and go change." When Fernando lumbered off, Mamina turned and smiled at Tocayo. "Carlos, who is your friend?"

"Charles McDonald Something." I said. I couldn’t help it. I was the one in a mood, now.

Charly looked nervously at Mamina. "Miranda. Charles McDonald Miranda."

Mamina looked him over. "You are so tall. You must play basketball with my son."

"He is Santa Maria's Wilt Chamberlain," I said, "from Gringolandia."

Mamina spoke to him kindly. "Are you staying for dinner?"

I could see it on his face. He remembered, finally, that he had promised to feed me. "No, Mamina," I said, feeling much better, "Charly doesn't like to eat dinner. He would like you to give me his portion, instead. Isn't that right, Tocayo?"

Mamina looked curiously at Charly, but before he could answer, she turned and reproached me, "Carlitos, where are your manners?" She took Charly by the arm and led him up the hall. "You must have a tremendous appetite. Come. Dinner will be ready soon." She walked him into the dining room and sat him down at our large round family table. I sat down beside him. "And if you are extra hungry," Mamina added, "I will give you Carlos's portion. Would you like that?"

While Tocayo tried to figure out how to respond, I protested vociferously. Mamina laughed at my protests and slipped back into the kitchen. Charly mumbled a thank you in Spanish, but the kitchen door was already swinging back and forth behind her.