—Don Chan, I‘m making an appointment so you can get a checkup, Esperanza said at dinner.

—So they can do experiments on me?

—There is this nice doctor who‘s willing to use my insurance to see you. His office is a few blocks away. If it won‘t cost us anything, it doesn‘t hurt to check. He might be able to prescribe a pill or something so you could feel better.

—I don‘t need no doctors giving me no pills.

How dare anyone suggest he put chemicals into his body? He didn‘t trust the pharmaceutical companies, the same companies who funded studies based on profits, not on people‘s well-being. The thought of swallowing a pill gave Don Chan indigestion.

For as long as he could remember, everything he ate was clean. Clean like the earth. Brown rice, steamed spinach, fresh beans without an ounce of seasoning except for fresh garlic, onions, and a dash of salt to awaken the nutrients. Fresh-squeezed juices. All from his backyard. He drank boiled water, which he put through a filter he changed every three months, and he never forgot to gulp a teaspoon of olive oil in the morning and cod-liver oil in the night to grease the bones.

Esperanza looked over at Bobby.

—Abuelo, if you go to the doctor, then we won‘t have to worry that something will happen to you.

Now that Bobby‘s voice had gone through the transition from being a boy to the voice of a young man, it was as if Santo was speaking from the grave. Don Chan saw all three faces around the table, anticipating his answer. It was the first time he saw them as his family. They were all he had left.

—Fine. But only because Santo asked me.

They didn‘t correct him, as he had made the mistake often. Esperanza nodded at Bobby. He was the man of the house now. And soon she was going to ask Bobby to help her with the bills.

Esperanza and Don Chan arrived at the clinic, and the doctor saw them immediately.

—This is your father? the doctor asked, surprised by there being no resemblance.

—I look like my mother, Esperanza said, afraid Don Chan wouldn‘t qualify for her insurance.

The doctor frowned. —I‘m already breaking so many laws, and I try to keep within certain boundaries for my own integrity.

The office was small, on the first floor. The wall behind his desk was plastered with diplomas. Esperanza assumed he was an important man and then thought how great it would be to work in a doctor‘s office.

—What seems to be the problem, Don Chan?

Don Chan sat on the chair by the doctor‘s desk while Esperanza stood nearby to fill in the silences.

—I have no problems, Don Chan said, trying to stay in good humor while the doctor checked his blood pressure. The idea of being checked made him nervous. If something was wrong, he didn‘t want to know. What‘s the point at his age?