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to figure out what we’re going to offer at the carnival. What kinds of events will we write about on our signs? And what will we tell the radio and the schools about?”
    â€œGreat food!” shouted a tiny boy at the front.
    â€œContests!” called out another.
    â€œSinging in the streets!” cried David, and did a little dance. Yeny joined in, and pretty soon they were wiggling and jumping around the field. They hooted and hollered, and Yeny felt happier than she had in weeks. She wished María Cristina were there to join in the fun. But no matter what, Yeny was going to make a good life for herself in the city, even if it was hard work.
    When everyone had collapsed into a laughing, exhausted heap around the fruit crate, Celia turned to a fresh page in her notebook. They continued making plans.

CHAPTER 6
Spread the Word
    The next few days flew by, now that Yeny had a job to do. “Hey, have you heard about the carnival on Saturday?” she asked every child she came across. She asked the boy who sold buñuelos on the street, and Rocio, the girl who lived next door, and a group of older kids who passed them on the way home from school. “It’s going to be great. Spread the word.”
    When Joaquin glared at her, she gave him a hand-made notice with the time and place of the carnival. “We’re having a real deejay,” she said. “Invite every kid you know.”
    He ignored her after that. If anyone else had ignored her, she would have been hurt, but every time Joaquin did it, Yeny’s heart skipped with joy. She wondered what had changed betweenthem. But she didn’t spend too much time wondering. She was too busy knocking on doors, interrupting soccer games between boys on the street, and chasing after children she didn’t know to tell them about the carnival. Juan teased her that she should win an award for being the Peace Carnival’s best promoter.
    By the end of the week, Yeny could lead Juan the whole way to school without getting lost. She just remembered to turn left at the big church on the corner where she had talked to the buñuelo seller, right at the bustling
mercado
where her father helped with the fruit, and then they were on the wide avenue with the red tile sidewalk. From there, the school was easy to find.
    Pretty soon almost everyone she talked to had heard about the Peace Carnival, but no one minded Yeny introducing herself anyway. She met so many kids that week that on Friday morning it seemed that everyone in the schoolyard smiled and said, Hola! when she arrived.
    â€œHey, Yeny,” Rocio called from her window that afternoon. “We’re making
tamales
for the carnival. Want to come over and help?”
    Yeny loved tamales. The little corn dumplings were a special treat because they took a long time to make. She’d never helped make them before. “I’ll be right over,” she said, and hurried inside her house to drop off her school bag. “I’ll be at theneighbor’s,” she called to her mother as she flew out the door again.
    For a moment she felt guilty about leaving Juan behind, but she had to make her own friends sometime. Besides, he left her when he went to play soccer with his friends. And she didn’t think Juan would be interested in cooking anyway.
    â€œHola, Yeny!” Rocio’s mother answered her knock, drying her hands on a green apron. “Come in. The corn’s ready. You can help us grind it.”
    Loud salsa music was playing on the radio, and Rocio and her older sister were dancing around the little kitchen with ears of corn in their hands. “You’re just in time,” Rocio said. “Grinding the corn is my favorite part.” She handed Yeny an ear of corn and twirled across the kitchen to a small grinder on the wooden table. “Just stick the corn in here, and turn the handle. It’ll mash up the kernels.”
    She showed Yeny how, and while