The Five Acts of Diego Leon by Alex Espinoza Page A

boy,” his grandfather said, clearing his throat. “Like my wife said, he’s been living abroad. Europe. His ways are …” and he waved his hand.
    The young woman smiled. “Yes,” she said. “Well. Curious little fellow, isn’t he?”
    “What’s wrong with you?” his grandmother asked as they walked away. “You had no business taking her things. She’s a very important person, the daughter of a powerful politician. If I ever catch you doing that again, I’ll—”
    “Don’t be so hard on the boy,” his grandfather interjected. “It’s not his fault. The people he was raised among, they’re backward. We’ll straighten him out. Now, let’s try to enjoy ourselves.”
    They strolled though a park and plaza where vendors sold toys and pinwheels and kites made of bright paper. There were figurines of glass and clay, so many small and beautiful objects that glimmeredand shined. His grandfather purchased a leather belt and a vaquero hat, and he gave Diego money and told him to buy something, whatever he wanted. He used the coins on a wooden whistle and two pieces of squash candy. He was chewing on the last piece and standing with his grandfather, who was reading an announcement nailed to a post, and watched when Julia stopped to talk to a man and a woman. A parasol was hooked over the woman’s arm, and the man wore a waistcoat with a frock jacket over it, and a white cravat tied around his neck. A few minutes later, a boy about Diego’s age with light brown hair joined them. His grandmother said something and pointed across the street. They waved at Diego and his grandfather, but the old man was too busy reading the announcement to notice.
    The first three months there, his grandmother left Diego alone during the mornings. Every day his grandfather closed his office and returned to the house for a long lunch. On the first day he was told he would be eating with them instead of taking his meal in the kitchen with the servants, Diego learned of Javier Alcazar and his mother, Carolina. It was Doña Julia who spoke of the family first.
    “I saw Carolina Alcazar again this morning.” She looked over at his grandfather.
    The old man sat at the head of the table, taking spoonfuls of his soup. “And how is she?”
    “Fine,” his grandmother said. She finished her soup, and one of the maids, a young woman with a long ponytail, walked over, removed the bowl, and placed it on a tray. His grandmother dabbed the corner of her mouth with her napkin and looked over at Diego. “We saw them last week in the plaza, remember? They waved at you. Javier’s about your age. You two should meet. He would be a good influence on you.” She stared at him from across the table, in a way that made him feel uneasy.
    Diego held his spoon, his hand trembling slightly. “Yes, Doña Julia,” he responded, lowering his head.
    His grandfather pounded on the table, rattling the dishes and cups, startling the maid. “Head up, son. Head up,” he said, his voice elevated. “A refined gentleman always speaks with confidence.”
    “I’m sorry, Grandfather.” He adjusted himself, straightened his bow tie, and looked them both directly in the eyes. His grandmother shifted her gaze back to the table.
    “Take these away!” she ordered. The maid came over and quickly began removing the dishes.
    His grandfather said to Diego, “Carolina’s husband is a very wealthy man named Manuel Alcazar. He was in love with your mother at one time. They almost married but—”
    “She ran off with that peasant,” his grandmother interrupted. She sat back in her chair and folded her arms. “Doroteo, don’t start.”
    The old man ignored her and continued: “Carolina was once an opera performer. She has a beautiful voice. She gives lessons from her home to some of the children of the more affluent families.”
    Diego cleared his throat before he spoke. He tried not to look at his grandmother. “What kinds of lessons?”
    “Singing. Dancing. That