(20 of 26)
"I know that kid, Davey, that lady's son. I mean, I don't really know him, but I saw him last week after some Puerto Rican kids stole his jacket. It was a new leather jacket. They held a gun to his head. I saw him in the subway, and I gave him a hug. I didn't like him or anything. I just wanted to show him that not all Puerto Ricans were like that."
Maria walks toward her house in the early evening, her hands stuffed into the pockets of her jeans to keep off the cold. Her chemistry tutor did not pay attention today, she complains. Her grades are solid Bs, but she feels inadequate in chemistry and in English too.
"I'm afraid to go to college, you know? I think I won't belong there. But I don't care if I don't fit in with all of them. I don't want to change, you know? I like my music, my clothes. I want them to take me like I am."
The sky is unusually clear; the stars show. Maria does not notice them. Planes fly in low over Fourth Avenue, one after the other, on their way to La Guardia Airport.
"You must see those planes all the time," says her companion. "Do the jets always fly over Sunset Park?"
"I don't know. I never look."
"You'll be on one of those planes someday, on your way to California or Paris. Do you believe that?" Maria shrugs. She is still brooding about college.
"Geraldine has been good to me, you know? She helped with all my college applications."
"Why does she help you, do you think?"
"She likes me. And I think that she is sort of like me too. She has a temper, you know." Maria giggles. "The flying nun flies off the handle. But she helps me with everything. She wants me to be nice to my father, you know? But I can't do that. He's not the sort of person you talk to. I am scared to get close to him.
"But I think I'm getting a little closer to my big sister. She and my father got in an argument last night. It was 4 in the morning. I got up and went into her room. I said, 'Don't listen to him because he's stupid. He doesn't understand.'
"She had a pillow on her head. I said, 'I like you, so don't feel bad.' Somethin' like that. I never said that to her before. Then we started talking about college, because she's going to college now, she knows what I feel. We talked and talked, but we didn't look at each other. All the time she was looking out the window and I was looking at my sleeping brother, but we were talking to each other. I was scared to look at her face. Then I made a joke, and she started laughing. And I started laughing. And then I looked at her, and showed her that I liked her through my eyes."
On the steps of an abandoned courthouse a group of young men give Maria the once-over. She does not look up. Two boys are fighting over a bike at the corner of her street. She calls to one of them, who responds cagily, trying to determine if her walking companion is a cop.
"What happens when you and Geraldine both feel that enough progress has been made, and are ready to stop?"