On a sidewalk near the edge of the plaza, a man and a boy stared at each other in recognition, having been reunited not long after they had just met.
"You! You're the replicante!"
"You're the Perez boy!"
Both exclaimed their discoveries without shouting for anyone to hear, but they still were shocked at the sight of each other, especially since it happened only several hours after meeting each other the first time. Ernesto felt both surprise and frustration at finding the boy who got him in trouble while Tulio expressed shock and anxiety at seeing the man with whom he had left a bad impression. Unsure of what to do, say, or even think, they both looked at each other for a few seconds before Tulio's eyes wandered back to the road.
"My guitar!" he cried, scrambling to take a look at the shattered pieces, splinters, and curled broken strings that used to make up the guitar he had been playing moments before. From the looks of it, while Tulio made it out of the truck's path thanks to Ernesto, the guitar wasn't so lucky. Tulio could only guess that it stayed midair in the path of the truck after flying away from the boy when he was tackled, leading to the obvious. Tulio's hands trembled as he held the pieces. "No…no…ay maldita sea," he whined in an insincere half-sob.
Witnessing the drama unveiling before him, Ernesto put his head in his hand, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Ay dios mio," he groaned to himself, contemplating what had transpired up to that point, "this has got to be the worst joke the world has ever told." Knowing for sure that he had enough of this nonsense, he raised his voice back to normal volume. "Oye! Oye, muchacho!" Tulio, having heard the Ernesto calling him, turned his head back hesitantly to look back at the man. Ernesto continued, "I just saved your life and the first thing you do is cry over a broken guitar?"
"That was MY guitar," Tulio exclaimed, wildly directing his hands at himself to make that point obvious. "I had it since forever ago! I mean, thanks for saving me, but couldn't you save my guitar too?"
"Well, too late for that," Ernesto mumbled. "I was just shocked that you didn't see the truck until I was right next to you."
Tulio, unable to figure out his next comeback, slumped back to sitting on the pavement. "What are you doing out here?" he squeaked after staying silent for a little while.
"I could ask you the same question," Ernesto retorted. No way was he going to let this boy ask him such a demanding question after he just did him a big favor.
Tulio conceded. "I was practicing a song for the talent show at the plaza. I wanted to try how good I was with my guitar, so I got it from home, and well, now we're here." He scooted a few inches away from the man, uneasy about what might happen since he was alone with him. "Well?" Tulio continued to break the silence, "your turn."
Ernesto couldn't help but turn his head away from the boy. He could see the boy's tense feelings expressed in his eyes and it simply felt all too familiar to him. Without looking at Tulio at all, he spoke, "I was having a churro."
The breeze whistled in place of their silence, even though one would have expected a cricket's chirp to be present instead.
"That's it?" Tulio asked with disbelief. "Just a churro?"
"You thought I had more?"
"Well," Tulio tripped over his thoughts, "I just thought you'd be doing…other…kinds of things…but anything but just have a churro!"
At that point, Ernesto was just about ready to go over to the boy, grab him by the shoulders, and give him the shaking of a lifetime. "Other kinds of things?" he thought with distaste, "Just what did you think I was doing instead? Did I do something illegal?" But he opted to be a little more polite about it. "So if I wasn't having a churro," he told Tulio calmly, though the boy could sense what was behind the level tone, "what would I be doing…according to you?"
"Well…" Tulio hesitated, "actually…I…don't know."
This earned a smothered chuckle from Ernesto. This was getting more ridiculous by the second. "Of course," he shook his head, the sarcastic smile still on his face, "all this time, you thought I was just up to no good, yet you had no idea how it was so!"
"H-h-hey!" Tulio protested. "It's not like I can just look at you and think of good things you could do for people! You're Ernesto, like Ernesto de la Cruz. You're made of everything he is, and you should know what he is already, don't you?" He pointed a finger at the man. "If anything, I'd think you're bad exactly because I don't know what you would do."
Ernesto stared at the boy's raised finger with a look of displeasure, only to gesture a hand forward in dismissal. "Well, that would prove to be a waste of time," he sighed, giving some more sarcastic politeness. "If that's the case, how many villains have you uncovered with your sense of…'moral detection'? Is that how you uncover what people are like, or rather, how you even make friends to begin with?"
Tulio grimaced at Ernesto's half-hearted speaking, yet struggled to come up with something to counter what he said. For some reason, he couldn't find it in himself to feel indignant towards the man in regards to who he was. True, he still felt a bit nervous when in Ernesto's presence, but there was something about him that the boy couldn't decide was true or not. After all, he may have been shocked with the revelation of Ernesto's identity, but he didn't feel the level of dislike his abuelo Gregorio had. Even more, Ernesto was right in what he said. Tulio couldn't just guess or assume what a person was based on what he's heard or seen. So, he decided to just come clean.
"Okay, alright, you're right," he raised his hands in defeat. "You're not the real Ernesto de la Cruz, so I can't talk to you like I know you. But still, I can't know how different you are just because of that."
Ernesto narrowed his eyes at the statement, obviously not convinced. Crossing his arms, he steadily got back onto his two feet and kept his gaze on the boy. "Then what must I do to prove to you that I'm different?"
That question caught Tulio off guard. This man was actually asking him? Did he actually ask him to tell him what he should do? Somehow, Ernesto's question didn't feel entirely sincere, owing to a tone of voice that didn't make him come across as all that curious. But then again, the thought of a replicant of Ernesto, the Ernesto de la Cruz who did not bow to anyone, doing exactly that was what worried him. After all, from what he heard of the infamous pseudo-singer, he was never above doing whatever he thought worked well enough to get what he wanted. But that didn't change the fact that the man in front of him asked a question. "Well," he paused as he tried to come up with a possible request for Ernesto, "could you get me…a new guitar?"
That earned him a frowny look from Ernesto. "Estas loco, chamaco," he responded with his hands on his hips, "I can't afford a new guitar."
Tulio flinched at Ernesto's abrupt response, being reminded that not long ago, he found the man sleeping in the gutter. But the boy wasn't finished yet. "Well, don't you have a guitar? I mean, you play one."
"Sure, I play a guitar," Ernesto quipped. "That doesn't mean I have a guitar with me, let alone own one."
"And you say that because…?"
That made Ernesto glower at what he heard. Tilting his head down until his gaze met Tulio like a hawk in for the kill, he spoke in a low quiet tone that oozed of repressed irritation, "Do you think that after all this time living in the gutter, I'd still be walking around with a guitar? I don't think I have that kind of luxury."
Seeing that Ernesto's answers were not getting him anywhere, Tulio lowered his eyes to the ground with his face changed to match his own groan that had stress etched in it. It didn't seem like asking him for a guitar was going to work. He thought of asking him for another kind of favor, though he couldn't make up his mind about what that would be. On the other hand, he also thought of just calling the whole thing off and letting himself and Ernesto go separate ways. Having to deal with Ernesto himself already complicated the situation enough. "Well then," Tulio spoke up again, "Just…never mind. You don't need to do anything for me. I'll just head back to the plaza and I won't bother you again." He scrambled to his feet and turned around to go back to his grandfather. Upon taking the first step, he heard Ernesto speak to him again.
"Not so fast, chamaco."
That made Tulio stop walking. Turning around to look at Ernesto again, he saw the man with his arms crossed in front of his chest while tapping his foot like it wasn't anyone's business. Ernesto continued, "I may not have a guitar, but you never asked me if I knew anyone who does." That got Tulio's attention. Fully facing Ernesto, the boy slowly walked towards the man until he was only a meter apart.
"You," Tulio spoke up quietly, but had his full attention on the replicant. "You know someone who has a guitar, one I can use?"
"Well, I don't really 'know' him," Ernesto explained, gesturing his hands to the side, "but I know about him well enough to tell you he has guitars…plenty of them, actually."
That made Tulio brighten up again, a smile returning to his face. "Then where is he?" he exclaimed with reinvigorated energy, having felt willing to put aside his feelings of scrutiny to let Ernesto speak, at least for one night. "Where do I find this guy and how can I get his guitars?"
Ernesto stood still as he looked at the boy's starry-eyed expression. It reminded him of other kids he used to know. Like the boy standing before him, those kids were loud, laughed, and smiled while dancing around, according to his memory.
"It's at…" Ernesto got ready to tell Tulio, but as he looked at him, remembered he was still only a child. "Actually, I can take you there." He then started walking, going past Tulio who swiveled around to face Ernesto's back in protest.
"What? I don't need you to take me. Why don't you just tell me?"
"Were you going to go yourself?" Ernesto looked back.
"I was fine with you just giving me directions, but I'm not a kid! I don't get lost easy." Tulio remarked.
"Uh, you are a kid," Ernesto pointed out, not amused by Tulio's denials. "And I'm sure if you knew what place I'm talking about just by hearing the name, you'd be looking for a guitar somewhere else."
Tulio's expression of protest immediately relaxed into a blank state of bewilderment. Arching an eyebrow, he stooped a little closer to Ernesto, who then turned around to head where he wanted to go. It prompted Tulio to pick up his pace, hurriedly keeping up just behind Ernesto as they made their way past the plaza towards whatever place Ernesto mentioned. "How do you know?" Tulio questioned Ernesto once more, only about his statement about the place the man knew not being an ideal place for getting a guitar. Ernesto did not turn back to look Tulio in the eye this time, keeping his focus on what was in front of him.
"Just trust me."
