Basilio’s car (Lucy’s POV)

Basilio and his mom moved in yesterday. Rachel, Nenny, Esperanza and I were sitting on the curb watching him unload boxes from a truck. When he was finished and the truck had gone, we walked around the house trying to look through the window. How old do you think he is? Esperanza asked.
Nineteen, I’d say, I said.
No, much younger, only sixteen, Nenny said.
Noone laughed but I saw how Rachel was trying not to smile. Nenny sometimes doesn’t understand but we don’t make fun of her because she’s younger.
Maybe he’s older. He looks strong, he’s more than twenty years old, Esperanza said.
No way. His mom is too young to be the mom of a twenty-five-year-old. How about we knock and ask, I said, he’ll tell us.
Everybody tells me we can’t do that, I’m crazy.

Every evening Basilio goes on his porch and smokes. Sometimes we walk past, hoping he’ll say hi, but he keeps staring at the road and smoking. One day we’re talking on the curb across Basilio and hoping he’ll talk to us, when Nenny stands up and walks to him. You know, you’re not supposed to smoke when you’re too young, she says. He laughs and says, I’m nineteen, not that young.
Oh, I guessed that right, I say.
He looks at all of us and says, my name is Basilio. I’m Esperanza, that’s Nenny.
Rachel and Lucy, Rachel says.
Nice to meet you all, Basilio says and I notice he has a Cuban accent. We’ve had some Cuban families on Mango Street in the past, so I know the accent well.
What do you do all day? Rachel asks.
Nothing. Me used to be a car mechanic in Havana, that’s what I did instead of high school.
A car mechanic! You like cars?
He smiles. Yes, and one day I’ll have my own.

Every evening Basilio goes on his porch and smokes, and sometimes we join him and he talks to us about the car he’ll buy one day, a black car with low seats and a CD player like the ones he used to repair in Havana. He’ll drive all day, sleep in his car and then keep driving. He’ll drive as far as he can, over the sea all the way to Europe where he’ll race his car for money like on television, and then he’ll buy another car for his mother. Will you buy me a car, too? Rachel asks.
Of course, he says, or you can come with me to Europe.
Come with you! Lucy, d’you want to visit Europe?
I think about it. I do but I don’t like the idea of riding in a car for so many days. Cars are nice but they can also break down or kill people.
Why don’t you drive with your mom? Nenny asks.
Because she does not like it. It reminds her of Cuba.
We all stay silent, and Basilio smokes. He’s looking at the road again. I look at it too. The cement is cracked and there are rocks on it. The rain washed the color away so now it’s pale grey. I imagine what it would be like, to drive a car on this road and drive away from Mango Street, away from this neighbourhood, away from this city, away from this country, away onto another continent, onto another life.

Castille VM.

Mar 2023