Stepping outside, he saw the woman in the pale orange dress again, and he was flying once more. He could see that she wasn’t really enjoying the fight, either. No, she was holding back, cringing. Juan was glad to know that she wasn’t one of these crazy women who enjoyed violence, like that little one in the red dress who was jumping up and down alongside Archie.
Then Lupe turned, and their eyes met. He stared at her, eyes burning, eyes talking, singing, taking her into his heart and soul forever and ever. And she stared at him, eyes talking, too. He saw her look and smiled. Seeing his smile, she quickly averted her eyes and drew close to the tall, slender young man who was beside her, taking his arm. Juan grinned, fully realizing that she’d felt for him as much as he’d felt for her.
Juan brought out a cigar, lit up and continued watching her. He thought about his mother and how she always told him about the first time she’d seen his father riding into town with his brother on two matching sorrel stallions: tall, handsome strangers with hair as red as the setting sun. She and her sister had instantly known that these were the two men that they’d marry and build their lives with.
Juan blew out a cloud of smoke. It filtered up into the overhead light. He’d never really believed his mother’s story until now. But, looking at this woman across the street, he was beginning to think that his mother had, indeed, told him the truth. For something was truly happening to him that was so powerful, so incredible, he had no words to describe it. His whole body felt like it was coming off the ground. And he didn’t even know this woman in the pale, orange dress. So how could all this be happening to him?
Then he remembered the Mexican story that said the true horseman could always pick the right horse, even from a great distance, just by seeing the silhouette of the horse in the light of the full moon. A true horseman knew so much about horses that just the posture, the movement, the tilt of the horse’s head told him everything that he needed to know.
Juan glanced up and saw that yes, indeed, the moon was full. And he looked at Lupe, at her head, her posture and the silhouette of her body holding there with such a fine, regal beauty. He just knew all that he needed to know about her.
She was proud, she was strong, she was intelligent, she didn’t like violence and respected life. She was a woman that a man could build a home with to last ten generations! She was the woman that he’d been searching for ever since he could remember.
It looked like the fight was almost over. The big Anglo was ready to go down when Archie stepped in and gave him a little rabbit chop to the left ear, knocking him to the ground like a gun-shot pig.
“Good fight,” he said to Jaime who was blowing hard, “you and your friends now go into the dance, free, on me!”
“And you,” he said, winking at Carlota, “I’m deputizing you! Me and you, we got to do some quick-stepping as soon as I clean up this little mess.”
And saying this, he got hold of the left foot of the big Anglo kid and dragged him across the street, his head bouncing in the ruts of the dirt road.
Juan saw all the girls flock around the man who’d been fighting the big Anglo, but the boxer ignored them and walked over to Lupe. The boxer looked at Lupe, and she looked at him, and then they all turned to go into the dancehall—the boxer, Lupe, Victoriano and Carlota. But not before Lupe turned to see if Juan was still watching her.
And when she saw that he was, their eyes met and held once again. But only for a moment. Then she followed her group into the dance.
Juan snapped his cigar in two. Oh, he was flying! He’d never be the same again. The floodgates of love had opened. He was gone, lost, never to be without this woman in his dreams again.
“Juan,” said a man, “you better come quick! Someone says that his money was stolen!”
Juan went into the pool hall and found a little short, dark-skinned Mexican shouting that he’d lost his money.
“How much?” asked Juan, trying to stop thinking about the girl.
“Everything I had!” yelled the man.
Juan glanced around at the five other men who were at the same table with him. They all looked pretty nervous. But still, Juan didn’t want to just start accusing anyone.
“Look,” said Juan, “how much did you start with?”
“All my pay!” said the small, dark-skinned Mexican.
Everyone in the pool hall was tense. The fight had gotten their blood boiling, and now the idea of having a thief in their midst was all they needed to go crazy.
“Please, do me a favor,” said Juan as calmly as he could to the others at the table, “check your chips and make sure no accident happened.”
The men all checked their chips, then each one said that they had what they were supposed to have.
“Well, I’m sorry,” said Juan to the man who’d lost his money, “but unless you can tell me exactly how much you started with and how much you had when you left the table, I can’t help you.”
“Oh, that?” said the man. “Hell, I know exactly how much I started with.”
“How much?”
“My whole week’s earnings! Eighty cents!”
“Eighty cents!” said Juan, having expected something more like five or ten dollars.
“Sure, I got fired.”
“Fired?” said Juan. “But nobody gets fired from the fields. Not even a wino.”
“Well, I did. That’s why I only had eighty cents.”
“All right,” said Juan, “and what did you have left of your eighty cents when you left the table?” he asked.
“Oh, that? Nothing.”
“Nothing?” said Juan, now getting really confused.
“Sure, I’d already lost all my money before I left the table,” said the man.
“Well, then, what the hell you complaining about?” said Juan, getting angry.
The dark-skinned Mexican burst out laughing. “Well, you’d asked if our money’s okay and mine isn’t. It’s gone.”
“But you lost yours!” said Juan.
“So?” said the man. “It’s still gone.”
“Why, you lousy little shit!” said Juan, coming after the little man. “Here you almost got me calling these innocent men thieves because of you!”
But the small man was quick and he dodged away from Juan, laughing the whole while, and everyone joined him. His name was Pepino, meaning cucumber. He was a local jokester.
It was near closing time at the pool hall, and the dance was winding down. Juan asked Pepino to watch the tables for him while he went to the dance for a few minutes.
Stepping outside, Juan found himself too nervous. He glanced up at the full moon. He thought of his mother and how she’d been insisting all year that it was time for him to choose his partner for life.
He decided to go up the alley and arm himself with a few good pulls of whiskey before going to the dance.
Oh, he was nervous. Having drunk a few shots of the rot-gut whiskey, he brought out a piece of gum to cover the smell of it before he went inside the dancehall.
The music was loud. The whole place was lit up and people were still dancing. He took a big breath, chewing his gum, and glanced around, but he didn’t see her. He did see the small woman in the red dress. She was dancing up a storm with Archie. He looked like a great big Saint Bernard dog dancing with a little Mexican Chihuahua, and they both were having fun.
Juan was just about to forget about the girl, thinking it had all just been a dream, when she came out of the restroom. And in the bright lights of the dance hall, he got his first full look at Lupe, and his knees went weak.
Why, she was so young. She saw him and once more their eyes met, but this time he didn’t stare at her. He could see the fear in her eyes.
He suddenly felt like a dirty old man, a monster, and he quickly turned and walked out of the dance hall. Who was he kidding? He didn’t have a chance with a young, innocent thing like her. He was the reincarnation of the devil. He could have whipped that big Anglo and the pretty little boxer at th
e same time. He was the man who couldn’t die! Not even in prison when he’d been a child and they’d cut his guts out and left him for dead.
He was trembling. He was so shaken by the time he crossed the street and went back into the pool hall. He decided to close up for the night and get stinking drunk.
Still in the next few days, Juan Salvador found out all he could about this girl. He learned her name was Lupe Gómez Camargo, and, yes, the tall slender man that had been with her was her brother Victoriano. The other guy, the boxer, did have romantic intentions, but they weren’t engaged. The shorter girl in the red dress was her sister, Carlota. They were from Santa Ana, but they followed the crops for part of the year.
Juan also found out that her family was very religious. They didn’t drink or gamble. He’d have to lie a lot about his life, if he ever wanted to get near her. Oh, the stars above were having fun in the heavens!
Then life took a dangerous twist.
A few days later, Juan was in Corona. He stopped by the pool hall after seeing his family and ran into Julio and Rodolfo Rochín.
“Why, hello, mi general!” said Rodolfo, greeting Juan.
But Juan walked right past the pock-faced man without saying a thing. “How goes it?” he said to Julio.
“Just passing it here,” said Julio, sipping a Coke.
“Hey, you, goddammit!” said the tall schoolteacher, getting to his feet as he came zigzagging across the room to Juan and Julio. It was obvious that he had been drinking. “I’m talking to you!”
“Julio,” said Juan calmly, “do you hear something? It must be the wind. Because I don’t believe in ghosts.”
“Look, cabrón!” yelled the teacher. “I got family to feed! I’m not just some snot-nosed kid like you! I had to keep my job that day, goddammit!”
“I’ll be damned,” said Juan, still talking calmly, “the wind sure gets noisy around here. Because I can’t hear dead men, especially not gringo-shit-covered turn-coats!”
“All right,” said the teacher, “you son-of-a-bitch! Don’t talk to me! But then I’m not telling you where the two men are who cut your throat!
Instantly, without hesitation, Juan drew his .45 and rammed it into Rodolfo’s face. Everyone froze, but the teacher only laughed.
“It will cost you a drink, mi general, man-to-man, outback,” he said.
“You got it,” yelled Juan, chest heaving with rage.
And so they went out back and they had a drink together of the terrible, bootleg whiskey.
“The word is that they’ve left the area,” said the teacher. “They know that you’re looking for them and so they’ve gone north up toward Fresno.”
“How long ago?” asked Juan.
“A few weeks,” said the teacher.
“All right,” said Juan, reaching into his pants pocket. “Here is a twenty for you,” he said, ripping the bill in half. “But you don’t get the other half until I come back with their balls!”
The teacher burst out laughing. “Your reputation doesn’t do you justice!” he said, tossing the half a bill away.
Julio dove after it like a cat on a mouse.
“You’re a real cabrón!” continued the teacher and, straightening up, he gave Juan a military salute. “Keep your fire, my young general. But they’re going to kill you. We mejicanos don’t got a chance here.”
He turned and went up the alley into the night. Julio showed Juan that he’d picked up the half of the twenty.
“Hey, mano,” said Julio, “I’m holding on to this! I know you’ll be coming back. Shit, back in Mexico after they killed my father, a poor old man, I hunted them down for months and I finally killed that big handsome captain with my own bare hands. A man intent on killing cannot be stopped! You’ll get them!”
“Yes,” said Juan, still looking at where the teacher had disappeared.
“Hey,” said Julio, “why don’t you and me make a run down to Mexicali for old times’ sake and pick up some tequila and sell it?”
“Next time,” said Juan, starting to go. “Right now I’m heading north.”
“All right, compa, but be careful; they’re waiting for you.”
Juan only smiled.
The weeks passed and Juan went from town to town playing poker. He thought a lot about Lupe as he searched for the two men. But he was losing it. He was beginning to believe that he had been an ignorant fool. A man in his profession couldn’t allow a woman to affect him like this. It was wrong, it was dangerous, it made a man weak. Only women and children could afford the luxury of love. He began to drink and go with many women, trying to forget Lupe.
Late one afternoon, after work, Lupe and her family packed their belongings and headed north up the coast to Santa Ana. Lupe rode in the back of the truck next to her mother. She watched the moon come up and follow behind them, slipping in and out of the clouds. She thought of the talk that she and her mother had about school. She thought of Mrs. Sullivan and how she could visit the teacher and explain to her that she needed to borrow books to study to be a bookkeeper.
Lupe smelled the sea as they went up the coast, and she thought of her future of getting a job in an office someday. She watched Carlota sleeping against her father’s side and she felt so close and good with her family and, yet, a little bit apart and lonely.
It felt as if this life that she now had with her parents would one day be as far away as the life that they’d known up in their beloved canyon, a dream, a memory from another lifetime.
Lupe watched the moon, the same moon that had gone past their cathedral rocks each night back home, and she felt strangely foreign to her family for the first time. Then she suddenly thought of that well-dressed, bearded man who’d looked at her from the pool hall and how frightened she’d become when she’d seen him at the dance.
Oh, it still made her whole body shiver, remembering how he’d stared at her with his dark, penetrating eyes. And, yet, she’d had dangerously good feelings for him, too, as if she somehow knew him or was destined to know him.
She looked up at the stars and the blue-wrinkled moon and realized that maybe a whole new life was opening up for her.
Two days later, Lupe was in the library in Santa Ana, selecting the books that Mrs. Sullivan had suggested. She was dressed in a homemade white dress. She was nervous and was having trouble concentrating. All around her were real students—educated people—and they all seemed to know what they were doing.
Then, when she went to reach up on the high shelf for another book, she bumped the shelf and dropped the books she was carrying. They struck the hardwood floor with a terrible clatter. Instantly, Lupe bent over, trying to pick up the books before she got in trouble for making so much noise. But she was so upset that she kept dropping them all the more.
Then, Lupe saw two black shoes standing beside her. The shoes were huge and shiny. Lupe was sure she was going to be asked to leave. But when she glanced up, she saw that a handsome, young Anglo was smiling down at her.
“Hello,” said the young man, bending down beside her. “Do you need some help?”
“Thank you,” said Lupe.
Helping her gather her books, they both stood up. Lupe nodded her thanks to him and was just starting to leave when she saw his eyes, eyes so blue and kind, and her heart went out of her.
“My name is Mark,” he said. “What’s your name?”
“Lupe,” she said, shivering.
“Lupe. I like that,” he said. “Do you speak English, Lupe?” he asked.
She nodded yes, feeling a nervous excitement go all through her body.
“Do you live around here?” he asked.
She nodded again, feeling so self-conscious that she couldn’t speak.
“Good,” he said, “I do, too, so if you don’t mind . . . ” He became embarrassed, putting his hands in his pockets. “ . . . I’d like to walk you home.”
Seeing his embarrassment, Lupe realized that he wasn’t as old as she’d thought. He was perhaps only a few yea
rs older than she was. She went over the words, “if you don’t mind,” inside her head and now understood why it was that she always felt so uncomfortable with Jaime and other Mexican men.
All the Mexican men that she’d ever known never would’ve asked her permission for anything. No, they would’ve just picked up her books for her, given her a flowery compliment, then assumed that she now belonged to them and could walk her home without asking for her consent.
Oh, it felt so good to be respected that she found herself nodding yes once again.
“Good,” he said, looking relieved.
Mark helped Lupe check out her books and then they hurried out of the library and into the bright sunlight. The whole day was alive, the trees, the grass, the birds, everything! Colors so bright, they sang out, “Look at me!” Everyone seemed to know Mark, but he never left Lupe’s side. He just nodded hello to the different young men and women who greeted him and they continued up the street, as excited as the springtime.
In the months that followed, Juan never did find the Filipino and his friend. They always seemed to be just ahead of him. One night outside of Fresno, Juan came up with a plan. He’d set up his own casino and reel the two men in so he could kill them.
Driving over to Hanford, Juan got an old Chinese friend of his to put on a game in the back of his restaurant. The night of the game, Juan dressed in his best suit and stood behind the front door with both of his weapons. He was watching the different customers come in to play when the cops arrived.
Instantly, Juan took out his guns and buried them in the sacks of rice. He had no fight with the cops. They were just men doing their job. Juan was arrested along with the others and taken away.
At the trial, Juan saw the Filipino and the Italian. They’d turned stool pigeons and set him up. The chicken-shit bastards had gone to the law when they’d found out that he was trying to get their asses. They weren’t hombres! They were cabrones!
The men who’d come to play cards were released. But Juan and the Chinaman, who’d set up the gambling place, were given two years, until Juan slipped the judge a hundred dollars under the table. Then the white-haired old man reread the law and gave Juan and his Chinese friend sixty days in the local jail in Tulare, California.
Rain of Gold Page 39