Things had gotten out of hand with the “That Girl” TV series. The rucas had started a cult after it and sealed themselves off from the vatos in their class. And the vatos, who’d tried to copy them, had taken wrong turn after wrong turn as the result of praires getting in the way and causing splits in their mob.
Life among the junior high school raza was sura. Everybody was divided de amadres. Nobody was thinking about romance, only surviving from one day to the next. Future generations were at risk. The situation was not sustainable.
Eventually, everybody was looking elsewhere for friends. Some sought out the raza in the Northside. Those who had connections turned to the raza in OJ.
Perhaps because the place both the rucas and vatos looked first, it seemed the Northside seemed to offer a lot of churchillos. This was not the case with OJ. Churchillos didn’t seem to do well there.
Boy gravitated to the raza leaning towards OJ. For he didn’t have kin in the Northside.
Nevertheless, the outreach to the Northside let in a flood of English-only-speaking churchillos into the Southside.
“Hey, you wanna join the choir at the Holy Cross Church?” a stranger asked out of the blue at AJ Tamales & Tortillas Shop.
The question was so preposterous that Boy didn’t know what to say.
“What?” he asked.
“Your friends said you might be interested,” the stranger, a boy about the same age as Boy, said.
“Pos, what happens there?” Boy asked.
“Oh, we just learn songs from the priest and hang out,” the stranger said with a smile.
Boy thought the boy’s smile looked creepy, as if he was inviting him to something he shouldn’t do.
“Chale, I don’t have a ride to the Holy Cross,” Boy feigned.
“I can ask the fathers to send a bus here,” the stranger said.
Boy felt cornered. He hesitated to respond. The stranger waited a long while for Boy to say more. The he sugared the offer.
“We have a lot of fun with the girls competing with the boys over singing,” the stranger said.
This caught Boy’s attention.
“They’re not fighting over there?” he asked.
“No, everybody just has fun,” the stranger said.
Boy was intrigued but the invitation seemed so odd that he demurred.
“Nel, maybe the following Sunday,” he said.
The churchillo was undaunted.
“Choir practice is Tuesdays and Thursdays, not just Sundays,” the stranger persisted.
“Tell you what, I’ll meet you at Saint Anthony’s on Tuesday and give you a ride,” he added.
“I don’t really go to church anywhere. My jefito says they only gossip there. But how about you bring your friends to the dance on Saturday?” Boy said.
That made the churchillo frown.
“The Lord doesn’t like dancing. You have to believe,” the stranger said, his smile shone brightly a few more seconds then turned down.
“Never mind. I can see your heart isn’t pure,” the stranger said as he turned around and walked out of AJ’s.
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