Previously on the Fina Mendoza Mysteries... Perfecto, Tutu.
Now you can fix everything.
The way the President Reagan fixed everything so that I could become an American citizen.
I had to pass the test and I had to bring a wheelbarrow full of papeles to prove that I had worked here and paid all my taxes and never took any money from the gobierno.
I never got into trouble with the law.
You've told us this story a million times, Abuelita.
It is the most important story of my life, mija.
And now, your father, he has the chance of a lifetime to help other immigrants.
My name is Fina Mendoza.
I moved to Washington, D.C. with my older sister, Gabby, because Papa works in the U.S.
Capitol.
He's a congressman.
Me?
I solve mysteries.
Let us build a house where all can dwell and all can safely live.
A place where saints and children tell how hearts learn to forgive.
Build our hopes and dreams and visions.
Rock of faith and vault of grace.
Hear the love of Christ's shell and divisions.
All are welcome.
All are welcome.
All are welcome in this place.
Hey, Fina.
Check out the AstroTurf carpet.
And I think they get their candles at the dollar store.
Shh.
No.
Let us fill the house with our candles.
What are all those brown marks under that window?
Water damage.
It's sure a protest-y kind of church.
Posters about climate change in the lobby and the barrel of groceries for the food bank.
Shh!
Abuelita, did you see the sign-up sheet to make sandwiches on Wednesdays for the homeless?
Shh!
Look, Papa, it's Father Andrew, the house chaplain.
So it is.
If you girls can't be quiet, I still can't do it.
Good morning.
I want to welcome all of you to Our Lady of Refuge.
I'm Father Andrew.
Do we have any visitors this week?
Don't be shy.
Oh, is that?
Yes, that's my dog walker.
Fina, Fina, why don't you introduce your family to all of us?
Me?
Well, I'm Fina Mendoza, and that's my abuelita and my sister Gabby, and my papa, Congressman Arturo Mendoza, of California's 34th Congressional District.
Fina.
Hello, Father Andrew.
Well, welcome to you all.
Come on, church, let's give the Mendoza family a real Our Lady of Refuge welcome.
No more truth shopping, eh, Peter?
So we ask ourselves, what is family?
Not just our father and grandmother and sister Gabby, but the family of human beings.
What is our responsibility to our brothers and sisters who leave their home country to escape violence or poverty?
Do we turn our backs?
He's talking about immigration, Papa.
Why are you looking down at your feet?
We are at the tipping point of history.
Congress, at this very moment, is taking a look at immigration reform for the first time in a generation.
Arturo, Arturo, don't slump.
Sit up straight.
Some have a seat at the table where we can change the laws of this great land.
But what about the rest of us?
There are three things each one of us can do.
We can pray for the wisdom of our elected officials.
We can make a phone call or write a letter to our member of Congress.
And we can come to a meeting Tuesday night and talk about doing more.
We are going.
But I have homework.
Then I am going.
Now, shh!
Where's your grandmother?
There's a note on the dining room table.
Gone to church, dinner on the stove.
Must be her prayer group or something.
Or something.
You girls eat?
Hours ago.
We left you the rest of it.
Good, because I'm starved.
Are you going to tell him?
I'm not going to tell him.
Look!
There she is.
She's getting out of somebody's car.
Adios.
See you next week, eh?
How was it, Abuelita?
Ay, mija, it's late.
And you have school tomorrow.
Come on.
Off to bed.
But who are those people in the car?
I'll tell you all about it tomorrow.
When I walk you halfway to school.
Okay.
I know.
You were hoping Abuelita would be out so late that she'd sleep in and let you walk to school all by yourself.
Tough luck.
What did you do at your meeting, Abuelita?
Well, we prayed and thought about the readings from the Bible.
And we talked about the things we could do.
Like what?
Come with me sometime and see for yourself.
I don't think so.
I hate boring grown-up meetings.
Hey, Vena.
If you're looking for your dad, he's in another meeting.
Oh.
How goes the investigation?
Slow.
I thought it would be great to have St.
Sebastian on my detecting team.
I mean, he does have bird dog blood in him, and I'm hunting a bird.
But he doesn't know how to focus on just one bird.
When I took him out for his walk this afternoon, he pointed at woodpeckers and pigeons, and even a hawk.
He's like, there's one, there's another one, and look over there, there's another one.
Sounds annoying.
And St.
Sebastian doesn't listen as good as Senator Something either.
That's important when you're trying to put clues together.
You need to say them out loud to see how they sound.
And it helps when you can say them out loud to your detecting partner.
Senator Something always howls when he thinks I'm following the wrong trail.
St.
Sebastian is too busy showing off what a brilliant bird dog he is.
Like he's waiting for someone to give him a gold medal or something.
I wish he'd just help me find the Chick Charney.
Sounds awful.
I even complained about him to Senator something.
He just looked at me like he was saying, I told you so, wasting your time with a bird brain.
I told him to stop being so mean.
And worst of all, my investigation is going nowhere.
The zoo never called me back.
It seems like nobody cares about that bird anymore.
Except Monica.
And me.
I know.
Even the president stopped tweeting about the State of the Union bird.
Now he tweets about immigration.
Papa says he tweets about him, too.
I know he says mean things because Papa presses his lips together when he reads his phone.
All part of the job.
I'll never be a politician.
Why not, mija?
I wouldn't like it if people said mean things about me and I don't like meetings where people talk and talk and talk.
I have to agree with you there.
But it's the nature of the beast.
Politics is all about talking and talking.
What do you like, Vena?
Hmm.
I like it when people clap for Papa at campaign rallies and the balloons that fall from the ceiling on election night and the US
Capitol.
But I definitely can't call people up on my phone and ask them for money for my election, and I'd be too embarrassed to knock on doors and ask strangers to vote for me.
Sometimes, I don't know why anyone wants to be a politician.
It's the way you change the world.
One way, at least.
You don't have to be a congresswoman to make a difference, you know.
You'll find a way, Miha.
Tonight, Papa?
You promised.
No more belly piercing?
Nope.
I'm thinking about getting a tattoo instead.
Oh, Gabby.
Just kidding, Papa.
I promise.
Here's your phone back.
Yes!
Dinner!
Dinner in five minutes.
Let me just change out of my suit, Mama.
Be right back.
222 texts?
I've missed all the news from my friends.
Did it hurt?
The piercing in your belly, I mean.
Honestly, it hurt like crazy.
Hmm.
I'm not going to do stupid things like getting my belly button pierced when I'm a teenager.
Good luck with that.
Hey, Gabby.
Michael at school told me there's a cool bird camera for burrowing owls at the San Diego Zoo.
So?
So, I was wondering if you could look it up on your phone?
I don't see any owls.
Let me look.
Burrowing owls are kind of little.
See?
There's one standing on that rock.
What's he doing?
Working on his tan?
I don't know.
Oh, there's another one behind that branch.
See?
Oh, they're so cute.
Moving their heads like robots and so tiny.
At least burrowing owls aren't scary like your demon cat.
Maybe you should just investigate animals that are cute.
Hey, how come they're not up in trees like other owls?
Well, they are called burrowing owls.
These guys seem much happier being closer to the ground or even under the ground.
Wait a minute.
Underground.
If burrowing owls like hiding underground, maybe everybody's been looking for the bird that pooped on the president in the wrong place.
Instead of looking up, they should have been looking down.
What are you going to do?
Start digging holes all over the Capitol?
Of course not.
But I am going to start looking underground.
In other words, the basement.
The place where Monica works.
The Fina Mendoza Mysteries are written and produced by Kitty Felde.
Our cast includes Amy Solano as Fina Mendoza, Monica Vigil as Gabby, Stephen Cuevas as Papa, Christine Avila as Abuelita, Linda Graves as Claudia and Steve Dvorkin as Father Andrew.
Andrea Felix-Cervantes is our stage manager.
Our music is written and performed by Andrew Barkin, and our logo designer is Imelda Hinhosa.
The song All Are Welcome by Marty Hogan is used with permission of GIA Publications.
Our church choir was led by Rosalie Huntington and Julie Pritikin.
And special thanks to Catherine La Victoire for her clarinet contribution.
Season two of the Fina Mendoza Mysteries podcast is based on the book State of the Union by Kitty Felde, published by Chesapeake Press.
You can pick up a copy at your local bookstore or ask your local public library to order a copy to add to the collection.
And if you want an autographed copy, check out the website, ChesapeakePress.org.
That's also where you can find out more about the cast and the crew of the Fina Mendoza Mysteries and download a 56-page teacher's guide to the book and the podcast, just by signing up for our newsletter.
Next time on the Fina Mendoza Mysteries...
Look, there she is.
Abuelita.
Why are you marching?
We march for la justicia, for justice.
Thank you, ma'am.
And returning to our story.
We march for people like me who came to this country many years ago to make a better life.
Now, my son, he is a U.S. congressman.
Uh-oh.
That's coming up next on the Fina Mendoza Mysteries.
Don't miss a single episode.
Subscribe now on Apple Podcasts, Spotify, or wherever you listen to podcasts.
And now you can get the Spanish version of State of the Union, Estado de la Unión, translated by Jorge Flores Gonzalez.
It's published by Chesapeake Press and available now wherever great books are sold.
