The Revolution of Evelyn Serrano by Sonia Manzano Read Free Book Online Page B

tracks had moved a few inches to the left from where they’d usually been.
    The college student sweepers weren’t putting trash in garbage bags anymore. They were pushing bags that were already filled with junk toward the middle of the avenues. And now they were sweeping with real professional brooms like the ones the Sanitation Department used.
    â€œWhat are those kids trying to do?” snapped Mami.
    â€œThey’ve been cleaning up for the last couple of Sundays.”
    â€œAre they a new gang?”
    â€œMami, a gang, cleaning?”
    â€œLike the Viceroys and the Dragons, I mean.”
    â€œI never saw the Viceroys or Dragons sweeping the streets, Mami.”
    Mami wasn’t listening to me. She yanked me into church. “Just what the neighborhood needs, another ganga !” she huffed.
    I was more impatient than usual for the service to be over. It seemed to drag on forever.
    When we got out onto the street, don Juan and his friends were sweeping.
    So was Wilfredo.
    So was Abuela!
    She was wearing jeans with the cuffs rolled up and a paisley shirt with a matching headband.
    Mami saw Abuela a second after I did. “ Qué … what …” she sputtered.
    â€œMija.”
    â€œWhat are you doing sweeping the street like a cualquiera ?”
    â€œI’m helping these young people.”
    â€œYou’re helping a gang?”
    â€œNo, they all go to college,” Abuela said.
    â€œ ¿Y qué? College kids acting like delinquents? What is sweeping the street going to teach them?”
    â€œMore than you would think.”
    â€œGangs!” Mami was seething.
    â€œMami, they’re not gangs,” I said, standing between her and Abuela. Then I got worried. Maybe they were gangs. How did I know? I had seen Wilfredo with some gangs.
    I tried to smooth it over. “Look, Mami, they’re not gangs.” I turned to Abuela. “Right?”
    â€œNot gangs. Good kids. I like to help.”
    â€œOf course, I forgot,” my mother spat. “You always have to help everybody in the world. Why don’t you clean your own house first? Sweep our apartment? Or the bodega ? No, you want to sweep the streets. But you are not helping anybody!”
    Abuela got up in Mami’s face. “I am helping you.”
    â€œWhat are you talking about? You say you’re going to help in the store, but you turn it into a place of politics — algo político . You say you’re going to help in the house, but you take over like you’re the only person living there. You say you’re going to help me and … and …” Mami couldn’t finish.
    While Mami and Abuela argued, people worked aroundthem, pushing mattresses and old rusty stoves onto the avenue. A guy with a bullhorn and some kids waving purple hats were trying to warn the drivers. To make things even harder, the Pentecostals had set up their speakers and microphones and were yelling so loudly we could hardly hear one another’s words.
    â€œEvelyn! ¡Vámonos! ” my mother yelled.
    â€œListen to me, mija ,” said Abuela.
    My mother was determined to drag me away, but I couldn’t leave.
    Mami yelled again. “¡Vámonos!”
    Then here came Awilda, Migdalia, and Dora.
    â€œWhat is up, everybody?” said Awilda.
    â€œWe’re sweeping up the streets,” I said, like I was part of the cleaning crew. “Help us,” I blurted.
    â€œHelp you sweep ? You must be crazy,” said Awilda, sucking at her teeth. “What am I? A maid? Besides, I don’t see no sweeping. I see funky sofas and rusty bedsprings stopping traffic.”
    She was right. The guy with the bullhorn kept trying to direct traffic around the trash so that there wouldn’t be an accident.
    â€œCome on,” Awilda said to Dora and Migdalia, “let’s get out of here.”
    I grabbed a broom from Wilfredo and handed it to Migdalia. “How about