Puppy Love by Gary Soto

Author:Gary Soto
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HarperCollins
Published: 2023-03-22T00:00:00+00:00

20

“HERE,” SAID MR. MENDOZA as he entered the living room. He was holding out a harmonica. “Why do you want it?”

“It’s hard to explain.”

Jordan’s father plopped down into his recliner, causing the bottom cushion to emit a long, loud sigh. “Hard to explain? What, am I thick in the head?”

Jordan paused before breaking the news, then began, “Did Mom tell you that Antonio plays the piccolo?”

“She did. And I didn’t believe her.”

“But he does—and he’s in the pep band. We’re not supposed to say anything to anyone. He’s kinda shy about it.”

“Antonio, shy? Yeah, right.” He chuckled as Frances climbed onto his stomach. “And your school has a pep band?”

Jordan nodded.

“And you want to join the pep band?”

“Maybe.”

“Because of this girl.”

“Dad, you are totally wrong. She’s, like, the girl! And, yeah, she’s in the band. She plays the glockenspiel.”

“Excuse me?” His father smiled. “Are you cussing at your papi in German?” He laughed, bouncing the puppy up and down.

“No, Dad, it’s an instrument. I looked it up. It sounds like doorbells ringing.”

“You’re lookin’ to play harmonica in the band?”

“Dad, you’re smart—you get what I want.”

“But, you know,” said Mr. Mendoza, pausing when Benny came into the living room. He slapped his knee. “Come here, boy.”

Benny, tail wagging, approached the recliner.

“A harmonica,” Jordan’s dad continued, “is not usually part of a pep band. It’s more found in a blues band.”

Jordan recognized that this might be a problem. Still, he wanted to learn an instrument. He could imagine starting a band so fresh that listeners from all parts of the globe would check them out on Spotify. Sierra on glockenspiel, Jordan on harmonica, and Antonio on piccolo—a totally new sound. He began to wonder, Does Ashley play a musical instrument?

Jordan’s phone buzzed: a text from Sierra. He stood up. “Dad,” he said. “I got to answer this.”

Mr. Mendoza raised his eyebrows so high they nearly touched his hairline. “Let me guess—Sierra? Ask her how her glockenspiel is doing today.”

Jordan ignored his father and sprinted to his bedroom, with Benny and Frances following with their sloppy puppy steps. But he closed the door on them. He needed absolute privacy. Heart racing, he read the text: “Hey, you want to do volunteer work tomorrow?” She had added an emoji: a yellow smiling face. He texted right back: “I got basketball practice. What kind of volunteer work, when and where?”

He stared at his phone, half listening to the sounds of Benny and Frances scratching outside his door. Her response was quick: “Litter cleanup at the canal on McKinley Street. We start at 10:00.”

The canal?

He wrote back. “Where exactly at the canal?”

“Near the donut shop.”

“I’ll be there after practice.”

A knock sounded on the bedroom door. When his dad showed his face, Jordan automatically turned his phone screen down.

“What, Dad?”

“I just got a call from work—they need me for an emergency.” He frowned and growled. “I’ll be gone for a bit. Mom wants to talk to you.” He scanned Jordan’s bedroom. “You know,” he suggested, “this cave could use an airing.

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