A Goal for Joaquin (6 page)

“It's not your fault, Dad. You can't control everything that happens to me. Maybe something worse would've happened in San Diego if we'd have stayed there.” Joaquin said.

“Perhaps you could move back and stay with my brother's family. You could play on the same team as Lupe and Filipe. Would you like to do that, Joaquin?” Miguel was watching his hands again. “I wanted this move to be good for all of us, but . . .”

“I don't want to go back. I like it here. It's just that soccer didn't work out for me. But otherwise things are fine. Maybe I can find a club team to play for. Don't worry about me. I'll be fine.” Joaquin surprised himself at how convincing he sounded. In all honesty, he had thought several times about asking if he could move back to live with his cousins, at least until the fall season was over. But now, hearing the sadness in his father's voice, he couldn't admit that such a plan had any appeal.

“Why do they have such a bad man coaching at the high school?” Mrs. Lopez asked. “Maybe we should talk to the school officials and see if they will get rid of this man. He has no business coaching kids.”

“It's too late for that now,” said Joaquin. “I'm finished playing at Lakeshore. Besides we're new in town. Who will listen to us? They have their own ways here. We're outsiders. We just have to accept it.”

“No, we don't have to accept it,” said Miguel. “It is not right for a coach to talk the way your coach did. There are laws against such things. Maybe we should hire a lawyer and file a complaint. We are United States citizens. We have rights.”

“But, Miguel, what will your company think if you start filing complaints and lawsuits as soon as you move here?” Louisa asked as she set the plate of food in front of Joaquin and then turned and looked at her husband. “They'll think you are a troublemaker.”

“It doesn't matter what they think. No one should talk to my son the way this man did,” Miguel protested.

“No, Dad, I don't want you complaining to the school. It would look bad for you at your job, and it wouldn't really help me anyway. I can get by without playing on the soccer team. I have friends at school who don't play soccer. I will be fine.”

Maria leaped at the chance to break up the serious conversation, “Yes, Joaquin has a girlfriend. I saw them kissing in her car.”

“You didn't see me kissing anybody, you little liar.” Joaquin aimed a spoonful of rice at his sister as he figured out what to tell his family about Jessica. “I just got a ride home from the game from a girl who sits by me in class. She's not my girlfriend, and we weren't kissing. She's just a friend who gave me a ride. We talked.”

“Huh, I saw you smooching her in the car in front of the house. You gotta a girlfriend, Joaquin. You're going to marry her and have twenty-seven babies.” Maria chanted the words in a sing-song rhythm.

“Maria,” her father commanded, “you either go to your room and start your homework or go in and watch television for a while. We want to talk to Joaquin, and we don't need you pestering him. Go on.”
 

Maria hesitated, apparently thinking about making one more verbal assault on her brother, but she decided it was in her best interest to leave the room.

“So what now, Joaquin? What should we do about this Coach Sommers? Do you want to ignore the fact that he made fun of our nationality? Are you ashamed of being Mexican-American?” Mr. Lopez asked.

“No, I'm not ashamed of who I am. I'm proud of my heritage, but I don't think it will help anything to complain to the school about this. There are some bad people in every town. I was just unlucky enough to get one for a coach. At first, I did doubt myself. I thought maybe I wasn't a very good player. But after tonight, getting a goal and then talking to Jessica, I feel like I am a good player. But I'm just not going to be a good player on this team. I'll get other chances.”
 

“You sound so mature tonight, Joaquin,” his mother said with a proud smile. “You talk like a man who understands himself and who knows what is important in the world. I know this thing hurts you great deal, and I am very proud of the way you are reacting. But it's all right to be a little angry too, you know. This coach has done a bad thing. Don't be afraid to admit that you are hurt and angry.”

“That's right, Joaquin.” His father cut in. “You don't have to try to protect us. We are your parents. We should protect you. Don't feel like you have to hide your pain from us.”

“Well, I guess I would like to say that I think Coach Sommers is a total jerk, and I'm glad I don't have to put up with his stupid practices anymore. A two-year old could coach better than he does. He doesn't even know how to line up his players on the field.” Joaquin was trying to laugh as he spoke, but a combination of anger and relief came pouring out, and he couldn't fight back tears. “And I hope he chokes on a taco someday.”

“Well, you just remember, Joaquin,” his father said, “you didn't quit soccer today. You quit playing soccer for Coach Sommers, that's all. You're still a soccer player, but you're just not going to play soccer for him. You remember that. There's a big difference between the two.”

“I'll remember. That's a good way of putting it. I didn't quit soccer; I just quit playing soccer for Coach Sommers.”

 

Chapter 7

 

The next several weeks passed quickly. Surprisingly, very little was ever said about Joaquin's departure from the soccer team. Coach Sommers never talked to Joaquin about his quitting. In fact, the coach seemed to spend less time hanging around the school, and when he was there he simply continued to ignore Joaquin. Joaquin liked to think that Sommers was embarrassed about showing his face, but in reality he figured the coach just had other things to do. Players from the team also basically ignored Joaquin when they met in the hall. It was like he was never really a member of the team.

The one exception was Brian Keely, a sophomore who was also a reserve on the team. He approached Joaquin in study hall one day and said that he had also quit the team. He thanked Joaquin for showing enough guts to stand up to Coach Sommers. He explained that he had wanted to do the same thing for almost two seasons but could never muster the courage to make the decision. He told Joaquin that seeing a really good player walk away from the team had convinced him that there was no shame in quitting a team with a mean and unfair coach. It made Joaquin feel good to know his actions had helped another player. From that point on, he a Brian became good friends.

* * *

Once he was through with soccer, Joaquin started to appreciate life in his new town. He began to notice the beauty of autumn in the midwest. The leaves on the trees had turned radiant shades of red, yellow, orange, and brown. There was a fresh, crisp feeling in the air. While his attention had been almost completely focused on soccer before, now he took time to enjoy these new pleasures. Several afternoons when he got home from school, he took out his bike and rode into the country. The rolling hills and dairy farms dotted with black and white cows were all new to a city boy.
 

One Saturday he went with Brian to the Keely family's cottage two hours north of Lakeshore. The two boys spent the morning with Brian's dad fishing for bluegills and perch on Round Lake. Fishing was something that Joaquin had read about but had never tried before. He enjoyed the simple relaxation of sitting in a boat tossing a line into the clear blue water. In the afternoon the two boys took Brian's yellow Labrador pup for a walk in the woods. Though too young to be trained for hunting, the young dog showed plenty of instinct and energy as he chased from scent to scent, testing skills that had been passed down through hundreds of generations. Once the pup scared up a grouse that was hiding under a pine tree. Joaquin wasn't sure who was more surprised when the bird exploded from its cover—the dog or himself. Both nearly jumped out of their hides when they heard the thunderous beating of wings. These were things Joaquin had never experienced. These new adventures helped reduce the loss of his favorite activity.
 

November in Wisconsin was a totally new experience for Joaquin too. He had known cool days in California, but he had never felt the chill of the north wind that he had to walk into on his way to school now. Jessica and Brian laughed when he complained, and they told him he hadn't seen anything yet. If he thought November was cold, he would get a real surprise in January when several days in a row could go by when the temperature never got above zero. He couldn't imagine people surviving that kind of weather, but his friends assured him that he'd get used to it. He even got a little excited when they told him about ice-skating and sledding parties. He no longer thought about returning to San Diego and going to school with his cousins.

To celebrate his birthday, Joaquin invited Jessica, Brian, and another friend named Tara to his house for dinner. His mother said that they would have a traditional Mexican fiesta. The dinner was planned for the Saturday before Thanksgiving. Joaquin was excited about showing his friends the food and customs that had been passed down through his family, yet he was also little nervous. He knew that none of his friends had ever taken part in a real Mexican party, and he hoped that everything would turn out right.
 

Joaquin's birthday coincided with the anniversary of the Mexican Revolution of 1910. This was a traditional celebration in Mexico, so the Lopez family decided to combine the two parties and share some of their culture with Joaquin's friends.
 

Mrs. Lopez worked many hours preparing authentic dishes to serve. She made tamales, corn-dough crusts filled with ground meat and a spicy chili sauce. She wrapped each tamale in corn husks and steamed them until the filling was hot and the corn-dough was cooked. She also cooked chalupas, tortillas fried with meat, beans, chilies, tomatoes and onions. Finally, she fried chili rellenos, green peppers stuffed with cheese, dipped in egg batter, and fried in corn oil. Once the rellenos were finished cooking in the frying pan, she scooped them into a pan of tomato sauce and let them simmer for several minutes. In addition to the food, two large pitchers of hand-squeezed lemonade were set in the middle of the table.
 

The meal was served in the middle of the afternoon, the time of the traditional
comida,
or main meal in Mexico. Joaquin loved the traditional dishes that his mother prepared. At first he was nervous about how his friends would like the food, but once he noticed how aggressively they all attacked their heaping plates, he stopped worrying and enjoyed his meal.

When everyone was finished eating, Mrs. Lopez cleared the plates from the table. Joaquin helped her by rinsing dishes at the sink before stacking them in the dishwasher. Mr. Lopez made traditional hot drinks for everyone. For himself and Mrs. Lopez, he prepared
cafe con leche
, a strong black coffee mixed with hot milk and sweetened with sugar. He offered the coffee to Joaquin's friends, but no one accepted. For the kids he made steamy cups of frothy hot chocolate with cinnamon, another common drink in Mexico.

As the group sat around the table enjoying their fragrant hot beverages, Mr. Lopez told Joaquin's friends about the Revolution of 1910. He spoke admiringly about Emiliano Zapata and Pancho Villa, the two colorful heroes who led the revolt against the tyrant Porfirio Diaz. He proudly recited stories of how the bandit Villa outwitted the federal soldiers on many occasions and how he led his poorly armed peasant followers to victory in many battles. Joaquin was proud of his heritage and proud of his father who could narrate the stories with so much enthusiasm. He was happy when he looked at his friends and knew they were enjoying the party.

At dusk, the fiesta moved outside to the small patio in back. Mr. Lopez had strung paper lanterns around the patio and the flickering candles gave off a soft, friendly light. Joaquin refilled everyone's cup with either coffee or hot chocolate, and the entire group formed a half-circle with lawn chairs and sat enjoying the fall evening. Once everyone was seated, Mr. Lopez brought out his guitar and placed a stool at the opening of the group and started to fumble with the strings. He ran his fingers along the frets producing a soft harmonic blend of melody and chords. He twisted the tuning keys at the head of the guitar until he got just the sound he wanted.
 

Then he began to play. His first song was
El Condor Pasa
, a folk song known throughout Central and South America. He sang the Spanish lyrics, his rich baritone voice blending perfectly with the sounds coming from the guitar. Next he fingered the introduction to
La Bamba
, a song familiar to everyone in the group. Once he started the song, Joaquin and Maria joined in on the verses, and everyone sang the chorus. He repeated the verses and chorus several times. When the song finally ended, everyone cheered and clapped. Mr. Lopez stood up and took a deep bow. Everyone laughed and cheered louder.

“Just one more song,” Mr. Lopez announced, “then we have to go inside to see what we can find in the living room.”

“I know what it is,” shouted Maria. “It's a
pinata.
I saw Joaquin hanging it from the ceiling when he went in to fill our cups.” She jumped from her seat, unable to contain her excitement. “I get first chance to break it open! I'm the youngest!”