The day is warm. The afternoon still young. I walk down the street, heading to buy our daily rations of tortilla.
“Mi amigo?!” I look from side to side and finally down to see the face of a boy, no more than four years old. His was the voice that had interrupted my thoughts.
“Mi amigo?!!?” He asks, no demands again. He obviously wanted some piece of information and thought I had it. Had he lost something? And did I even know this kid? I had no idea.
“No se, tu amigo…?” I begin. The light bulb comes on. Of course I know this kid! I saw him on the street corner near my house a few nights ago. Rafa had talked to him.
“Oh! Mi esposo, Rafa?!” I ask. He gives me a look of an obvious “DUH, lady!” I explain that Rafa is at work. The child looks at me, shrugs his shoulders and scampers away.
I hurry along my way as well, smiling and thanking the Lord that the man children know as amigo, I know as husband.