Pedro's Pinata

7/31/2019 Pedro's Pinata

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PEDRO PIATA

By:

Joyce Smith Williams


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Pedro hopped out of bed, combed his thick black hair, and

checked his clean shirt, jeans and sneakers. He took one last look in the

mirror.

At breakfast time the family sat around a long table. Mama and

Papa on one side Pedro and his sister Nina on the other. They all held

hands while Papa prayed. Thank you, God for bringing us safely to

Miami. Care for our families still in Cuba and thank you for our food

amen said papa.

Papa turned to Pedro. Today you go to the market?

Pedro nodded. He wanted to ask Papa about buying a piata.

You wish to buy a piata, no?

Yes, sir, answered Pedro. Ive been sweeping the sidewalks for

Mr. Bill, the grocery man, and Ive saved lots of money.

Pedro put his hand in his pocket and pulled out his leather pouch.

Then he counted. Six, seven, eight quarters and four, five six dimes.

I think that money will buy only a small piata, said Papa. He

looked at Mama and nodded.


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Mama reached for the small metal box on the shelf that held the

grocery money. She took out one quarter, then another and another.

She put three dimes beside the quarters.

Pedros brown eyes sparkled. He counted again. Eight, nine, ten

quarters. Seven, eight, nine dimes.

All this money will buy a big piata, Papa?

Well see,

Thank you, Papa, Pedro said, as he scooped all the coins into his

leather pouch.

Today I will look at the piatas in the market and buy the best

one in the whole wide world.

Pedros Papa drove him to school. Pedro waved goodbye and

hurried to his classroom. His classmates were already there. He

pinned on his nametag.

The bus will be here soon to take us to the market, said Miss

Walker.

She carried a huge brown purse. Tissues and a scarf spilled out the


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top. Pedro was ready no daydreaming - not on his first field trip. He

reached deep into his pocket. The coins in the leather pouch jingled.

Pedro smiled.

Lets go, said Miss Walker. All the children walked outside and

formed a line on the sidewalk. Soon the big yellow bus came to a slow

stop in front of them.

All aboard, called the driver as he flung open the door. Miss

Walker led the way and helped each child find a seat.

Were off, called the friendly driver. He shifted gears and the

old bus chugged, coughed and strained under its load of happy

children.

Before heading out into the street, the driver stopped and looked


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to the right and to the left. He checked his mirror, then pulled the

bus into a very busy street.

To the market! shouted the driver.

To the market! replied the children.

Mike, who sat beside Pedro, wanted to talk, but Pedro chose to

look out the window. In the seat behind Pedro sat Carlos, the thin,

sick-looking boy who was new to this classroom. Today Pedro would not

think about Carlos.

The streets were filled with people, animals, and trucks. In this

part of town the houses were small so were the shops.

Soon the bus came to a stop. Pedro gazed at the market

buildingbigger than any building he could remember.


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The ceiling was high with bits of sky showing through. Were they really

going to parkin the middle of the market building?

Pedros bus pulled into a space besides a big white delivery truck.

All the children stood; then Pedro followed his classmates out of the

bus. Everywhere he looked there were little shops. Pedro saw piatas

that looked like stars, airplanes, birds and donkeys. There were small

piatas, middle-sized ones and huge piatas.


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Am I dreaming?thought Pedro.Is this really the day I will buy a

piata? So many! How will I ever decide?

Buenos dias! greeted a chubby man wearing a black apron. Miss

Walker led the children toward his little shop.

Buenos dias! replied the children.

Pedros eyes grew big. The shopkeeper was surrounded by clay

pots, fruits, vegetables, clothes, and toys.

As the group moved along, the next shop had large woven straw

baskets. They were filled with mangos, oranges, limes, papayas and

somewhere Pedro smelled bananas. Above the fruit, strung from wires,

were strings of bright red chili peppers and fat white onions with

braided tops.


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Miss Walker looked around and counted the children.

Lets move to the next shop, she said. We have lots to see in

the market.

Mike and Carlos moved ahead first. In the next shop tables

covered with bright yellow cloths had tiny green turtles, gray-white

donkeys and flying birds.

Can you tell the children about animals? asked Miss Walker.

The shopkeeper smiled and showed his big white teeth.

The animals - they from Mexico. Made of stone, ony-x. Very

hard, strong, and polished. The brown horse is smooth -yes?

Pedro fingered the leather pouch. Could he buy Nina a small green

turtle? Or a string of chili peppers for Mama? No! FIRST he must find a

piata.

Next, on low tables, were straw sleeping mats, called

petates. Also, heavy wool blankets in all sizes and colors - called

serapes. Pedro knew that some families slept on these petetes. Did

Carlos family sleep on petates?


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Everywhere Pedro looked there were shopkeepers. But Pedro had

only one interest. He looked up, down, and all around. While he was

looking, the other children got ahead of him. He ran to catch them.

Finally, Pedro stopped before a piata shop.

Sir, I want to buy a piata.

The heavy-set shopkeeper looked at Pedro. Piatas cost money,

boy. You have money?

Pedro dug into his pocket and pulled out the pouch and poured the

coins into his hand.

Go away, boy. No one buys MY piatas for coins.

Frightened, Pedro moved away. His steps slowed as he trudged

from shop to shop.

Pedro saw it. Hanging far back in the little shop. The piata was

red, green and white shaped like a parrot. This was the piata he

wanted. Looking around for Miss Walker, he rushed to her.

If I buy a piata, can I take it home on the bus? he asked.

Miss Walker looked into the dancing eyes of one of her favorite

students.

Do you have money for a piata?


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Si, even to buy a BIG piata one almost as big as me.

Miss Walker stooped down beside Pedro. Her big brown bag

dropped from her shoulder.

There will be room on the bus for any piata you can buy! she

laughed, picking up her bag.

Pedro turned back to the shop where he had seen the piata. He

checked his pocket and pulled out his leather pouch.

Mr. Shopkeeper, he called in a voice like he had heard Papa use.

I have money to buy the big parrot the one way up high.

The shopkeeper gave a jolly laugh.

You like the big bird I make? He picked up a long pole and

lifted the piata from the high wire and set it on the table.

Hesitating, the shopkeeper asked, You have money? Mucho

money?

Pedro shook the rough leather pouch. He poured the dimes and

quarters on the table.

The shopkeeper counted. Then he counted again. He looked from

Pedros anxious face to the beautiful piata. For a long time, the


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shopkeeper did not speak. Then - A fine bird for a fine boy, the

shopkeeper announced and pushed the big parrot toward Pedro.

Gracias, sir, gulped Pedro. I will keep this piata FOREVER.

No, no, no! said the shopkeeper, You have party. Put candy in the

parrot and break it.

The big smile left Pedros face. Break his piata? NEVER. He did

not reply, but picked up the big red, green, and white parrot and

stroked it gently.


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Buy candy for your parrot, and have a party, repeated the

shopkeeper. He reached under the counter and handed Pedro a handful

of pennies.

Gracias, kind sir, said Pedro, giving the shopkeeper a big smile.

He put the pennies in his pouch and waved good-bye. He carried the

piata, half as big as he was, and walked toward the bus.

The driver saw Pedro coming and opened the bus door.

You have a big bird! Sit on back seat keep your parrot safe,

he said.

Pedro trudged along the rows of seats with the big bird in front

of him. He lifted the parrot to a spot in the center of the back seat

and climbed up beside him.

Soon the other children began to board the bus. All the children

wanted to touch his parrot.

Only look, warned Pedro.

Miss Walker was the last to get on the bus. She counted the

children again; then spoke to the driver.

Were ready, she said. Everyone sit down.


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Pedro could feel Carlos eyes on him. He turned away from the

small, tired-looking boy who had a big hole in the sleeve of his sweater.

He did not like the way Carlos sad eyes made him feel.

The driver started the old bus, turned out of the market, and

into the busy street. Stores rushed by the windows. Pedro hugged his

parrot and forgot about Carlos.

That night Pedro snuggled under the covers of his clean white

bed. No straw mats in his house!

Close besides his bed sat the big red, green and white parrot.

Pedro turned on his side and patted the piata. He thought about the

candy his mother would buy with the pennies the shopkeeper had given

him. The desk drawer was a safe hiding place. He would save the candy

but not for a piata party.

Pedro rubbed his sleepy eyes.

Goodnight, he whispered to the parrot, Im going to keep you

forever.


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Wake up, sleepy head, said Nina. You are going to church with

Papa. Pedro sat up in bed.

Nina, this is Saturday morning already? Is it late? he asked.

No, but come to breakfast! Mama has it ready.

Pedro washed his face and dressed. On the way to the kitchen he

tucked his parrot under his arm.

Aieee, cried Papa, as Pedro slid into his chair. Mama, bring

another plate for this parrot. Maybe with cereal it will grow as big as

Pedro.

Pedro laughed at Papas joke.

Then Papa opened his Bible, read a story and nodded to Mama to

pray.


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After breakfast, Papa and Pedro climbed into the car. Pedro

pulled his parrot into the seat beside him.

You like your piata very much! said Papa.

Yes, said Pedro. Nobody will ever hit my piata with a stick and

break it like the shopkeeper said. THIS piata is not for parties. It

is for ME.

Papa slowed the car, turned the corner and stopped in front of a

two-story red brick building. The sign on the parking space read:

PASTOR PARKING. Other cars were in the lot. People were going

inside the church. Pedro often came with Papa on Saturday and played

with the children. Some of their moms learned English; others visited

the medical clinic. Some learned to cook or sew.

Papa, I like to come here with you said Pedro.

A short, thin man stopped papa before he got to the door of the

church. Pedro, clutching his parrot, walked ahead, pulled open the

door, and walked down the long hallway toward the back door. He

peeped inside the clinic. A nurse was giving an old man a shot. A doctor


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was shining a bright light into a little girls ear. Pedro held his piata

close and hurried on.

In one room, men and women were learning English. Pedro stopped

to watch. Each person had a teacher. Each teacher had a big chart

with colored pictures.

A small voice behind Pedro said, Hi!

Pedro turned. There was Carlos the boy from school with the

big sad eyes. Pedro shifted his parrot.

Hi! said Pedro, what are you doing here?

Carlos pointed to a woman learning English. I came with my

mother.

Shhh said one of the teachers, looking up.

Pedro whispered to Carlos, Lets go to the playground.

Outside, Pedro and Carlos could talk.

Does your mother come to English class every week?

Yes, but usually I have to stay home with my little brothers and

sisters.

Does your Papa come, too?


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No, my Papa doesnt live here, said Carlos. He works in

Mexico. Carlos eyes grew sad again, and for a long time he just

stared at the piata.

Pedro wished he had left his piata at home.

Thats a nice piata, said Carlos. Someday I will get one.

Then he ran to climb half way up the jungle gym and hung upside down.

Even upside down, Carlos eyes looked dark and sad. Pedro tightened his

piata under his arm.

Do you come to this church on Sunday? Pedro asked.

Carlos shook his head and climbed higher on the bars. But I

might come when I have new clothes.

You could wear the clothes you wear to school. Pedro wished he

had not said that. He remembered the hole in Carlos sweater and the

patches on his pants. For about an hour, the two boys played on the

jungle gym then Carlos mother called from the doorway and Carlos went

inside.

Pedro was thoughtful. After a few minutes, he decided he would

see if he could find Papa. Inside, walked down the long hall to Papas


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study. Very quietly he opened the door. Papa had a Bible and books

spread on his desk.

You need something, Pedro? asked Papa, looking up.

No, but Carlos does. He wants to come to church, but he has

this big hole in his sweater and patches on his pants. He needs new

clothes.

Then lets go find Mrs. Rodriguez, Papa suggested, as he got up

from his desk.

Pedro set his piata on a chair and followed Papa to a big room

where two ladies were hanging clothes on racks.


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Buenos dias, Papa said to the women. Mrs. Rodriguez, there is

a friend of Pedros downstairs. He needs a warm sweater. Can you

find one?

The two women began to look through a big box. Papa turned to

Pedro.

Can you find Carlos mother for me?

Before the women found a sweater, Pedro was back with Carlos

mother.

Papa, Ill be on the playground with Carlos, said Pedro.

Outside, Pedro found Carlos sitting on top of the jungle gym.

You forget your piata? Carlos asked.

No, I didnt forget it its in Papa study.

Someday I will have a piata. I will have a party, Carlos said

softly. I will invite you.

Just then the church door opened. Carlos mother came out. She

carried a large brown bag filled with clothes.


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Maybe Ill see you at school, said Carlos, as he ran to join his

mother.

Papa cleared his desk and was ready to go home. He and Pedro

were in the car several blocks from the church when Pedro remembered.

Papa, he cried, I forgot my piata. Please, lets go back!

Papa slowed the car. He looked at his watch.

Mama is waiting. And your piata is safe in my office, said

Papa. Thoughtfully he added, You love the piata very much.

Pedro looked out the car window. He remembered Carlos face

and Carlos words. When Carlos got a piata he would have a party.

Pedro wished he had not forgotten. He thought about the

parrots funny face. Then he thought about Carlos. Carlos face was

sad. Pedro decided not to think about Carlos or the piata.

After supper Pedro finished his homework. He longed to have the

piata sit beside him. He stretched out across his bed and stared at

the ceiling.

Sometime later, Papa came to the bedroom door. He watched

Pedro. Then he said, Time for your bath.


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Pedro continued to stare at the ceiling. He did not seem to hear

Papas words. Papa sat down on his bed and rubbed Pedros legs.

Papa, I wanted a piata for a long, long time.

Papa waited.

Now it is not fun! said Pedro.

Because of Carlos? asked Papa.

Pedro nodded. He did not want Papa to see tears in his eyes.

Sometimes the things we want most they dont make us happy,

Papa said. Get your bath now. We will talk later

Pedro obeyed. He sat in the tub of hot water and scrubbed - so

hard his skin felt like the leather of his pouch. The longer he scrubbed

the more he thought.


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What was he going to do about Carlos? What if Carlos came to

church? Had his mom gotten him new clothes? Would he look at the piata

with big sad eyes? Was the piata safe in Papas study?

Pedro got into bed, but turned and tossed. Finally he slept. He

dreamed of Carlos.

Pedro was awake early on Sunday morning. As soon as he heard

Papa in the kitchen, he popped out of bed. He straightened his clean

pajamas that were twisted and wrinkled. When he got to the kitchen

door, Papa was seated at the long table. The smell of fresh coffee

filled the room and steam curled up from Papas mug. He was reading

the Bible.

Papa looked up as Pedro came into the room and waited.


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Papa, the man who made the piata said I should have a party

and break it. But I dont want my parrot hit with sticks.

Papa nodded. Then he spoke.

You wanted the piata for a long time, and it cost a lot of

money. But sometimes we want something TOO MUCH.

Pedro could feel tears coming to his eyes.

Carlos says if he had a piata he would have a party.

Papa was very quiet. Pedro, you must decide for yourself about

a party. Perhaps you should ask God to help you. Why dont you eat

your cereal?

Pedro couldnt eat his breakfast. Mama came to the kitchen,

looked at Papa, but said nothing.

Pedro went back to his bedroom and peeked in the desk drawer.

Mama had bought candy!

Time to go! Mama called

Pedro tied his shoelaces, picked up his Bible, and looked at

himself in the mirror. His eyes looked as sad as Carlos.


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At church, Pedro was first to get out of the car. He pulled open

the big church door, rushed down the hall and turned the knob to Papas

study. There was his piata just where he left it.

You beautiful parrot! Pedro grabbed the big bird. What am I

going to do with you?Pedro tucked the parrot under his arm and slowly

walked back to his classroom.

There sat Carlos in his new clothes. Only empty chair right next

to Carlos. Pedro was surprised. Carlos eyes were not sad anymore.

Hi, said Pedro. I like your new clothes.

In response Carlos beamed. Then he asked a question.

Are you going to break the piata?


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Maybe, said Pedro.

Just like the shopkeeper said? asked Carlos.

Maybe. Pedro gave a big sigh and hugged his parrot.

After church, hed talk to Papa.

Pedro's Pinata

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