No Second Chances by Malín Alegría Page A

before dawn to get to la pulga before it opened in anticipation of all the new customers.
    â€œWe definitely have a thief here,” Fabi cried, pointing to the empty basket of carrots. “A thief who likes to eat carrots.”
    Santiago raised the tablecloth and caught sight of a little boy’s backside as he scurried away. In his hands dangled the purple carrots.
    â€œI got this,” Santiago hollered over his shoulder as he vaulted over the table. The table moaned under the pressure and another leg cracked, thrusting Santiago to the floor. “Dammit,” Santiago cried. He couldn’t hold back a small smile as he jumped up and patted his jeans clean.
    â€œHe’s getting away,” Fabi shouted, pointing up the aisle.
    â€œI can help,” Alexis volunteered.
    â€œNo,” Santiago said. Alexis lowered her eyes. “I need you to stay here and help Fabi. Customers are going to be here any second. I’ll be quick.” He glanced down the aisle. “No onesteals from El Puma,” he cried, and turned to hunt down the carrot snatcher.
    Santiago ran to the end of the walkway. People were filtering into la pulga . Families, couples, and mothers pushing strollers roamed up and down the row. He spun around quickly, worried that maybe he’d lost the kid. Suddenly, Santiago heard a commotion to his left. It sounded like an accident. A woman was yelling after a boy holding carrots. That’s him! Santiago’s eyes lit up. He took off behind a mound of used clothes and into the food court.
    He caught sight of the carrot thief dodging customers like a crafty deer. A part of him admired the boy’s agility. Santiago thought about turning back. If the boy wanted carrots badly enough to steal them, then maybe he deserved to have them. But then Santiago thought about his blossoming business. He couldn’t afford to give up any more purple carrots. With this renewed resolve, Santiago increased his pace.
    Suddenly, the boy stopped and turned back. Santiago ducked behind a red sofa, recognizing the boy. It was the kid from the wrestling match the night before. The little boy scanned the aisle behind him cautiously. Then he disappeared behind the restrooms.
    Santiago crept around the concrete building slowly. He waited until he heard crisp crunching sounds. Then he jumped out screaming: “Aha! I caught you!”
    However, the sight of two kids, even smaller than the thief, hungrily chomping at the carrots made him feel riddled with guilt. The kids jumped at the sound of Santiago’s voice. They were about to run away when Santiago grabbed the thief by his jacket.
    â€œWhoa, little man, where do you think you’re going?”
    He stared at Santiago, unable to speak or run. Santiago recognized their worry. It touched him in a strange way. They shouldn’t be afraid of him, he thought. But then again, the boy didsteal and stealing wasn’t okay — he should know. “Is that my carrot?” he asked.
    â€œNo,” the boy said in a hurried voice.
    Santiago knew the kid was lying. Grandpa Frank was the only person in town who grew purple carrots. But how could he be mad at a kid who stole for his little siblings? He leaned down to the boy’s eye level. “What’s your name?”
    â€œAngel.”
    â€œIsn’t that a girl’s name?” Santiago asked, laughing.
    The boy frowned, “No. It’s a boy’s name. It’s my dad’s name.”
    Santiago quickly tried to recover. “Angel, all right. That’s cool.” He glanced back to the boy’s siblings. They had to be only about three and four years old. The two little kids stared wide-eyed at him, still clutching their carrots.
    â€œThey call me Junior,” he corrected.
    Santiago nodded without listening. This little kid was a tough nut to crack, he thought. “You know stealing is not good. You’re teaching your little brother and sister some bad