Head shake. "Stubborn, like his mother. Maybe it helps with baseball. Saturdays he went to the U-pitch. Throwing all day. One time he came home with the arm all black under the skin, he threw so much the muscles were bleeding under the skin. It looked like a disease, his mother screamed, I called his coach--this was middle school, he was twelve, thirteen, say talk to Martin, no more bleeding. He tells me Martin's gifted, maybe he overdoes a little but that's better than being lazy. Stupid man, I hang up, talk to Martin myself. Martin says Sandy Koufax used to pitch with black arms. I say who's Sandy Koufax? Martin laughs and walks away. Later, I look up Sandy Koufax, he's the greatest pitcher ever lived, fine, good for him, I still don't like my son with a black arm."

Another look at his watch. "I go to Martin's games, he says don't embarrass me by screaming and going crazy like the other fathers, just sit there. That's all I can tell you, I need to get back to work."

I said, "How did Martin adjust to the tougher curriculum at Prep?"

"Did he feel stupid?" said Mendoza. "Oh, yeah, and he let me know all the time I made him feel stupid by moving him."

"Did his grades suffer?"

"Sure, this was a real school. No more easy A's, now it's B's if he's lucky. I tell him a B from Prep is worth more than a public school A. He walks away."

Mendoza threw up his hands.

"That's when Elise Freeman stepped into the picture."

"She was their idea--the school's. What happened was Martin wrote a composition--a term paper, it was no good, sloppy, he can do better, I've seen him do better. Maybe he did it on purpose, you know?"

"To prove a point," I said.

"Exactly. Making himself look stupid so the school say bye-bye. I tell him instead of making a scheme, study hard, you're a smart boy, now with no baseball, you got extra time. He hands the paper in anyway. Got a D."

As if announcing a terminal diagnosis. "Never, ever before did he get a D, not him or his sister, never did I see a D anywhere in my house. I was ready to... I got angry, okay, I admit it. There was loud yelling. That's the first time Martin took the bus to his sister."

"How long did he stay away?"

"Just the weekend. Gisella convinced him to go home, she bought him an airline ticket. I paid her back every penny."

"What about the second time?" I said.

"A few weeks later." Blinking.

"What was that about?"

Sigh. "Her. Ms. Freeman. The school arranged a tutor for him, all paid. To Martin that was saying, You're stupid. Stubborn, like I said. Maybe for baseball it's okay but not for life."