The Kids Juan Alvarado Valdivia (bio) My mama, Marta, was in the bathroom when Papa grabbed me under the arms and swung me back and forth so I could waddle up to the door to push it open. Mama looked down at me while Papa tilted my head to look at her. She was standing by the sink, holding a test strip. I had seen them enough times to know what they were. "Whatcha doin', Mama?" Papa said in the sweet, kidlike voice he used to speak for me. "Not now, Julio," she said, closing the door in Papa's face. He set me against the wall, then gently opened the door. "Sweetie, you're testing already?" he said. Mama didn't say anything. I could picture her sad face. "Oh, mi amor," Papa said. He probably hugged her. "We'll get there some day." The test must have been negative. That was after she lost the first baby. ________ Mama named me after Charlie Chaplin, one of her favorite movie stars. He was a troublemaking scamp just like me. And since I'm a tiny teddy bear, Mama and Papa like to call me Little Charlie. I look like a polar bear cub. I have brown marble eyes and a big black thread for a smile. Some of Mama and Papa's other kids—like Choco the Bear or Chepita the Lamb—don't have mouths, or smiles, but I'm always smiling. That's probably why Mama and Papa like me a lot. No matter what, I always look happy and hopeful. Mama found me at a fiber optics convention. I was one of the giveaway toys at a company booth. Once she spotted me, she pretended to be interested in their products just so she could get me. She was happy to bring me home. It was right after she first started dating Papa. That's why I feel [End Page 139] like their kid, even though—between the both of them—they also have Choco, Chepita, Sandy, Pinky, and me. They've made me into a rambunctious teddy boy with dreams as high as the stars above. My big wish is to get a rocket ship so I can explore outer space, especially the Milky Way, because I think there might be moons made of chocolate chip cookie dough. At least that's the dream Mama gave me. She even drew a chalk painting of me looking out the window of a great big rocket ship as I zoom through space toward a yummy-looking chocolate chip cookie moon. Papa has nurtured my daredevil antics, too. He's turned an old cardboard clothes hanger into a nifty hang glider. He'll put it over my back and stretch out my arms like I'm grabbing it so he can take me swooping and gliding through our apartment, turning the wings left and right while he makes whooshing sounds. I like to yell aaaaaahh! before I crash-land and tumble on their bed or couch when Mama's watching tv, which Papa likes to call "the boob tube" even though he's not an old guy. We have a lot of fun together. They're the best Mama and Papa I could have ever had. ________ A couple of months after she lost the first baby, Mama came to the living room. It was gloomy outside. I was sitting on the armchair next to Choco and Chepita, Papa's two kids. I could tell something was wrong. Mama was grimacing. She sat at the end of the couch and wrapped her arms around her knees like she wanted to curl up and hide. "Please, no," She said and groaned in pain. She sat still for a long time. Then she moaned again. After a while, she got up slowly and walked to the bathroom, dragging her feet like they were filled with lead. I could hear Mama call Papa over to the bathroom. "I'm bleeding," she said. After he ran to the bathroom, I could hear Papa make an oh-sound like when a cartoon character gets socked in the stomach. Mama sat back down on...