Pepa woke up to someone jumping on top of her. "Mamá," Antonio cried out. The five-year-old continued to bounce. "Wake up! It's time for school! It's time for school!"
"I don't want to school," Pepa muttered.
"You're not going to school," Antonio announced. "I am!"
Pepa was dreading this day. The day Antonio would leave home. Even if a school day lasted eight hours, Antonio would still be in the world without her. During the first five years of his life, Antonio wasn't even allowed to play outside without her. Pepa kept true to the promise she had that day. Nothing would happen to her chico.
Slowly, Pepa got up. "Are you sure you want to go to school this year?" Pepa asked. "I won't be mad if you want to take a year or two off."
"I want to go now," Antonio cried.
"Alright," Pepa said. "Now, go brush your teeth."
"I don't want to," Antonio groaned.
"Do you want to get cavities?" Pepa asked.
"Yes," Antonio declared.
"Go brush your teeth," Pepa ordered. Antonio sighed, making his way to the bathroom. He quickly brushed his teeth. Antonio met with Pepa back in her room, practically bouncing. "You missed a spot."
"Where?" Antonio asked, annoyed.
"There," Pepa said. She flicked his nose. The mother and son chuckled together for a few seconds before going to Antonio's room. Pepa helped Antonio get dressed into the clothes he had chosen the night before. She lost pretty much everything in the fire. Pepa had to start anew. Pepa didn't move to the rebuilt Casita, nor had she visited it. The house held too many memories.
"Mamá, can we walk to the bus stop?" Antonio asked.
"No," Pepa responded.
"But Juancho walks to the bus stop, and he lives further down," Antonio whined.
"No buts," Pepa snapped. "We're driving to the bus stop."
Antonio sighed as they climbed into her car. It barely took five minutes to get to the bus stop. Pepa and Antonio got out of the vehicle. Three kids, Juancho, Cecelia, and Alejandra, approached Antonio.
"Hi," Antonio said.
"What's with your hand?" Alejandra asked.
"That was rude," a woman said. She looked like she was Alejandra's mother.
"It's okay," Antonio said. Antonio was born without a pinky finger. "It was a birth defect."
"It's okay," Cecelia responded. "I'm lactose intolerant."
The bus arrived. "Bye, Mamá," Antonio called.
"Bye, Antonio," Pepa called. "I love you."
The bus drove off with all the kids aboard. "It's always hard watching your kids go the first," Cecelia's dad said.
"Yeah," Alejandra's mom responded. "Especially since it's so close to the mountains."
"The mountains?" Pepa screamed. The area around the mountains was notorious for its high crime rates. Pepa heard the conquers were spotted around that area. "Oh no. Letting him go to school was a mistake."
Pepa chased after the bus.