“Yeah, Kenny, that’s what I’m telling you,” said Salvador, and here he held, not saying another word. For what could he say, the Chinese weren’t considered to be worth anything in this country.
And also, if Kenny now did believe his story, this was even more dangerous, because the smuggling of Chinese was a much bigger crime than bootlegging. And so if Kenny did believe him, then he’d just given Kenny the rope to hang him with a federal crime if he ever decided to go to the law.
“A Chink?” said Kenny, grinning.
“Yes, a Chinese doctor,” said Salvador.
“Well, I’ll be,” said Kenny, grinning even more. “I never thought I’d be in a position to be helping the Chinks.”
“Yeah,” said Salvador, “and his people needed him real quick. There’s a sickness in Chinatown and they can’t tell the authorities. They’re afraid that they’ll just round ’em up and kill them all, like they did in Los Angeles a few years back, and bury them in that pit out by Pasadena.”
Kenny nodded. “I know the story well. Remember, we met working in a rock quarry.”
Salvador nodded. “Also, with my brother, Domingo, in prison in San Quentin, they now owe me a favor.”
“I’ll be damned,” said Kenny. “Small world, eh?” He smiled. “Hell, I was about fourteen when I met my first Chink. It was in a mining camp in Colorado. I was just about dead and he fed me and helped me through a bad winter. He had all these great stories of working all over the West. He’d come from China at the age of fourteen—same age as me at that time—but when I met him, he was old and he’d never married or had any friends after he got separated from his people. Shit, these Chinks have had it worse than Negroes. At least the slaves were brought in with their women, too.”
Kenny paused for a moment, then added, “But you didn’t kill anyone, right?” And he looked Salvador straight in the eyes, but then, before Salvador could answer, Kenny changed his mind and quickly added, “No, don’t tell me. Hell, I already know more than I need to know. We never had this conversation, as far as I’m concerned. But I’m sure glad to do my part in helping the Chinks. That old man saved my live.”
“You’re helping,” said Salvador.
“Good,” said Kenny, getting to his feet. “So now you want me to just patch up those holes, do you? I really couldn’t find anything else wrong with the car, except it needs service and cleaning because of all that cactus and brush you were dragging underneath it. Must’ve been one hell of a chase.” He grinned. “I hope the pay was good, Salvador, ’cause you knocked the shit out of that vehicle!”
“It was, Kenny, like I said, he’s an important doctor, and they needed him up in the—”
“Nope, don’t tell me. Like I said . . . we never had this conversation,” said Kenny. “Come on, the coffee’s hot. Let’s have a cup.” He was much better now.
“All right, but then I need to go home,” said Salvador. “Hell, I just ran out of the house barefoot without giving Lupe any explanation.”
Kenny burst out laughing. “You sure as hell like living dangerously, is all I can say,” said Kenny, serving them each a mug of steaming hot coffee. “My wife almost cut my balls off one night ’cause I’d been gone too long for her taste. These Latin women, man, an hombre needs to sleep with one eye open, I swear! Finally, I had to leave her. Almost cut my dick off on another night,” he added, laughing.
AT HOME, Lupe was in the kitchen, chopping vegetables with a knife. All her life, as long as she could remember, she’d watched her mother chop vegetables and make tortillas.
Finishing with the vegetables, Lupe put them in a bowl in front of her, and she began to hum. She had a dozen rolled-up balls of dough to her left on the counter. Taking the first of these little fist-sized balls, she began rolling the ball of dough out on the cutting board with the dark hardwood rolling pin that her mother had given her when she’d been a little girl. It was the same hardwood rolling pin that Lupe’s grandfather, Leonides Camargo, had given to her mother for making tortillas when she’d turned nine years old, and then her mother had given to her when she’d turned seven so she, too, could make tortillas.
That day, her mother had taken Lupe aside and explained to her that she was no longer a child. She was seven years old now, and so from this day forth she’d have to start working and behaving herself like a young lady, a rosebud on its way to becoming a full rose, or bad things could happen to her.
“Porque, mi hijita, there are many dangers for a young girl in this life,” her mother had explained to her. “Just as there are many dangers for a deer or a bird in the wild. And so a smart mother doesn’t hide these facts from her daughter’s eyes, but, instead, opens her daughter’s eyes to these dangers so she’ll be able to see and be able to take care, just as the deer takes care of itself from the lion and the birds of themselves from the hawk.
“So I’m not saying these things to frighten you or cause you not to enjoy your life, mi hijita,” her mother had said to her, “but on the contrary, I’m saying these things to you so you can be aware of your surroundings, then you can enjoy life to its fullest!”
Then her mother had reminded her of all the girls from their village who’d been stolen and raped with the awful Revolution, but—thank God—not one of her sisters had come to such a fate.
“And I believe, mi hijita, that much of this has to do because I forewarned your sisters of life’s twists at a very young age, just as I’m speaking to you now.
“I swear, mothers who are always telling their daughters to be aware of the scorpion or the snake, but don’t explain to them that we, women, must be aware of men and their actions—these mothers are fools! For the matters of the heart, mi hijita, cannot be entrusted to these ridiculous, silly, modern stories of romance and happiness ever after, but must be understood with open eyes and the knowledge that a woman’s heart is her strength! Not her weakness as these stupid songs and books say!
“For no man can ever break a woman’s heart, if she has entrusted her heart—not to the man—but to her home! Su Casa! Her nest! Using her God-given hands to roll out the tortillas, chop the vegetables, keep the fire going under the comal, and hum—like this—as she works.
“Work, mi hijita, is a woman’s power. Her relaxation and sanity. Her way of coming to terms with life’s twists and turns, and not lose her way. After all, remember that it is written in the stars that men came from the rock, the wind, and the fire! And we women came from the flower, the tree, the soil, the water, and, hence, any healthy woman can consume a man’s fire as easy as water can consume any little flame.
“Why do you think men are so weak and chase the wind, because down deep they know that the time of their molten-hot fire is short-lived. Whereas women are strong, knowing deep inside of themselves that all life comes from them, and they are the eternal soil for planting and the rain that comes from the Heavens and replenishes the rivers and lakes and even the very sea.
“So always know, mi hijita, that you are una lluvia de oro, a rain of gold, sent by God to do your work for the survival of all humankind. We are the power, we women are el eje, the center, the hub de nuestras familias, and in this knowledge, then our hearts are INDESTRUCTIBLE!”
Lupe now dried her eyes with the back of her hand, breathing deeply. She would never forget that day that she turned seven years old and her mama had told her all these things of being a strong, healthy woman.
Rolling out each ball of dough, Lupe placed the flat, round tortilla on the hot comal to the right of her, working from left to right as her mother had always done. And she could now see very clearly that her mother had, indeed, been so wise for this was her whole problema now. She’d entrusted her whole heart and soul to Salvador, instead of to this home, this casa, this nest that they were building together.
And this house that she and Salvador rented from Hans and Helen had a good roof and solid walls and even electricity and yes, indoor plumbing. This was a good casa, a fine house, and this little stove,
that Lupe was cooking on right now, was the two-burner gas camp stove that Salvador had bought for their wedding, just like the camp stoves that Lupe and her family had always used when they’d followed the crops.
Lupe had so much to be grateful for. She’d never forget the day that she and Salvador had gone shopping for this little stove and their furniture. Why, she’d felt like such a grown-up, holding hands as they’d looked at this and that, buying things for their home with her husband-to-be. They’d also bought a table and four chairs, a sofa, chair, and bed, and then even one set of dresser drawers. Lupe had never had a dresser before in all of her life. At home, they always used crates from the orchards, or open, homemade shelves to put their clothes away.
No, their little rented home hadn’t come with a stove, refrigerator, or furniture, but she and Salvador, an engaged couple, had gone out and bought these things and they now had a very nice, little casita for themselves.
She heard a rooster call outside her window and she began to sing, to whistle, to feel much better. And the smell of the tortillas cooking and the look of the colorful chopped vegetables—they spoke to Lupe, they spoke to her heart as they’d spoken to her mother, and as they’d spoken to her mother’s mother, a pure-blooded Yaqui.
The rooster continued serenading their home with sound and Lupe— Maria Guadalupe Gomez; no, Villaseñor—a married woman, now took the next ball of dough and began to roll the ball out with the hardwood rolling pin that had belonged to her mother.
Lupe just knew to the root of her being that women had been doing this for hundreds of thousands of years. Not with flour as she was doing here, but with maiz, corn, the staff of all life, la vida.
Lupe continued working the dough with her rolling pin with her two hands, then using her right hand to flip over the other tortilla on the comal when it was ready. She was feeling better now. It felt to her as if, somehow, a great burden had been uplifted from her shoulders.
Suddenly the rooster, which had been calling outside, screeched a terrible cry, and he came chasing after a weasel-looking animal past Lupe’s kitchen window in a fury of fluttering wings!
Lupe laughed; this truly felt like being back home in their village, a rooster screeching and rodents running. She now began to sing as she continued working the balls of dough. Her home was good now. Her nest was safe. The Devil be warned. She had not allowed darkness to take over her heart.
Lupe continued singing and rolling out the tortillas with her rolling pin that had been given to her mother by her mother’s father—who’d made the rolling pin from the root of a great tree that had been uprooted by lightning. Lupe now dreamed on—not in thoughts—but in feelings of life, la vida, that came to her through her hands, her arms, her fingers, as these soft, firm balls of dough in front of her turned into flat, smooth tortillas.
Then Lupe heard Kenny’s truck coming down the long driveway, echoing between the trees.
Lupe’s heart began to pound once again. Oh, if Salvador was seeing another woman, she’d cut his heart out with this knife that she used to chop the vegetables.
Suddenly she was so mad again that it frightened her.
She began to bang at the ball of dough with the rolling pin. Then she began slapping the tortilla back and forth between her palms, as she turned over the other tortilla that was cooking on the comal.
She breathed and breathed again, trying to calm herself down. No, she would not be one of these always-yelling wives!
She would calm down, greet Salvador, feed him, and then they would talk. And they would talk calmly, reasonably, and get to the bottom of this mess. No, she would not use the big, sharp knife. After all, her mother had never stabbed their father even after he’d lost all their family’s money to cards and liquor.
She breathed, calming herself down. She would be a good esposa. Yes, she would be a good wife. She was her mother’s daughter, after all.
7
And so shedding their outer skins, they now came to know each other as only young lovers can who’ve stepped forward in the full commitment of matrimony.
IT WAS DARBREAK, and Doña Margarita didn’t know what to do. Her old friend el Diablo was using every trick he knew, trying to get his way with one of her sons. And no one was a more experienced trickster than the old Devil, himself—God’s Greatest Angel back at one time.
In the early morning light, Doña Margarita got up and went to relieve herself in the outhouse. It was still too early for her to go over to her daughter Luisa’s house and talk with her. But Doña Margarita felt that she needed to talk to someone, because once she’d run the Devil out of Lupe and Salvador’s home, then he’d come to her in a terrible dream, showing her how he was going to try to snatch Domingo’s soul.
Outside, the Father Sun was just beginning to give glorious colors of rose and yellow and pink to the far horizon. She loved her little old outhouse with the candles and the little altar with a picture of Jesus and the statue of Maria. Going inside, she lit a candle, then sat down with her Bible and rosary in hand to do her daily calling and say her rosary. As she prayed she could still feel the Devil trying to get into her mind. He was giving her no rest. He was trying to get her in every way he could. Finally, she’d had it. Enough was enough!
“Aaaah, yes,” she said, feeling a long good caca coming with a load of pedos. “And here comes this big juicy caca and bunch of farts especially for you, dear Lucifer.”
“Ah, you filthy old lady!” yelled the Devil, leaping out in the open.
“Of shit for you, yes,” she said, “but of my soul for God, no!” And she began to laugh with carcajadas.
The Devil took off, spitting as he went.
IN CARLSBAD, some seventy miles southwest of Corona, California, Salvador was driving up the long driveway to his home in Kenny White’s big truck. His Moon automobile wouldn’t be ready for a few days.
Looking out the kitchen window, Lupe saw Salvador come up to their home in Kenny’s truck, and, oh, just the sight of him caused a sudden flood of wonderful, deep woman-feelings to pass over her. She just couldn’t help it. Salvador was like sunlight to her heart.
She prayed to God that they could talk and work everything out, for she really didn’t want to break her wedding vows and leave this man, whom she loved, but, well, she would, if she had to—now, before they had any children. For her mother had well explained to her that once a couple had children, then there was no turning back, especially for the woman.
She greeted Salvador and she served his dinner and they ate, then she put the dishes in the sink, and now she was ready. “Salvador,” she said, smoothing out the apron on her lap as she’d seen her mother do all of her life, “we need to talk. You were gone for three days and nights, then you came in and slept like you were dead. What is going on? I need to know. I can’t live like this. And also, while I was cleaning house, I found a bottle of whiskey under the pillow that Hans and Helen gave us,” she added as calmly as she could.
She stopped. She’d said enough. And also her heart was pounding. But there was no turning back. This was it. All this had needed to be said. And she didn’t know if he’d now be angry or what, but she’d said the truth— she couldn’t live like this, being worried all the time.
Seeing the look in her eyes, Salvador took a deep breath, trying to gather his thoughts. She’d said a mouthful, and most husbands would now just jump to their feet and yell at their wife, saying that he was the man of the house, that he brought home the money, and so he wasn’t to be questioned. But Salvador didn’t think this way. After all, he’d been raised by his mother, and so he didn’t want to intimidate this young bride of his, and crush her spirit.
That was easy. Any two-bit pimp could intimidate a young woman.
What he now had to do was hold still as a hummingbird in midair, feeling his heart pounding with rage, and yet do nada, nada, nothing just like he did in a poker game when he knew the other guy had drawn aces and he only had kings. He had to hold so still, so strong with
his two kings, that the man with the aces would figure he had a full house and cave in.
For at this moment, Lupe, his young wife, was, indeed, holding aces and asking nothing short of the impossible of him. Why, she was asking for him, a man, to be straight and truthful with her, a woman, and he wasn’t prepared to do this.
Hell, if he was truthful with her, she’d run in panic. For he was a monster. He was everything that she’d been raised to hate. He breathed, and he tried to figure where to begin without losing Lupe. She didn’t know anything about his illegal activities. She really thought that he hauled fertilizer for a living.
“Okay, Lupe,” said Salvador, licking his lips which had gone dry, “you’re absolutely right, you do need to know what’s going on.”
He took in yet another deep breath, taking in of the Life-Force de Papito Dios. In the last few weeks, he and Lupe had become so close. But still, he, Salvador wondered if any man could ever really be completely honest with any woman. And yes, of course, with his mother he was completely honest, and with Lady Katherine, the madam of that house up in Montana, he’d been completely honest, too, but these were women of experience, older than him, and his teachers.
He now looked at this young bride of his and he decided to give it a try. But he’d have to go very, very carefully. And not too fast, or all at one time, either. After all, this was the wisdom of the She-Fox, being careful and going slowly. This was why she was always able to outdo the bigger, stronger coyote.
“Look, Lupe, I’m going to talk now, and I’m going to tell you many things, but you are going to have to listen to me patiently. Because you see, I did a favor for some people, but this isn’t what will take me away from you now and then for a few days and nights in the future.”
Hearing this, it was now Lupe who didn’t dare take her eyes off of Salvador. No, she held, watching his eyes and every move.
“And,” asked Lupe, refusing to shy away, “who are these people that you did a favor for?”