Two of their trucks overheated, and Lupe and the young girls had to get out and walk ahead while the men cooled off the engines. Walking up the steep road, Lupe got close to Manuelita.
“Manuelita,” she whispered, “I need to talk to you, alone,”
“All right,” said the older girl, falling behind with Lupe so that their sisters would get ahead. “What is it?”
“Well, you know,” said Lupe, “Mark that I wrote to you about?”
“Yes,” said Manuelita.
“Well, he asked me for my hand before we left.”
“He did?” yelled Manuelita.
“Ssssshh,” said Lupe, pulling Manuelita in close. “Not so loud. I haven’t told anyone.”
“Then you didn’t say ‘yes’?”
Lupe shook her head. “No. But I did promise him an answer when we get back.”
“Oh, my God!” said Manuelita excitedly. “Maybe our children will grow up together, too!”
“That would be heaven,” said Lupe, “but, well, I just didn’t know if he’s the one.”
“Well, tell me about him!”
Just then they were all called back to the trucks.
“I’ll tell you later,” said Lupe as they headed back, “when we have more time.”
Topping the mountain crest, Lupe breathed deeply, smelling the cool freshness of the sea, which was still more than fifty miles away. And here, on top of the mountains, the rocks and granite stopped and the high country began. The mountaintops were clothed with tall brush and pine trees, looking like green, woolly sheep in the distance.
Lupe held her friend’s hand and thought of Mark. Someday he’d have an office of his own and she could work for him. They’d have two boys and two girls, and their children would grow up with Manuelita’s children and they would all go to school together and become fine, educated people.
Lupe breathed in the cooling air, holding Manuelita’s hand, and she glanced around and saw that the country was changing again. They were coming off the rugged mountains and now there were oak trees and small, rolling hills with fat cattle. Here, the wildflowers were of softer colors than they’d been in the desert. They were lilac and rose and gold and white. Lupe’s heart went soaring to the heavens. Every time they came close to the coast, she just felt so much better. Then in the distance, Lupe saw the sea and was filled with a wonderful feeling; a much kinder God lived there.
In Carlsbad that night, Lupe slept well for the first time in weeks. In the morning, her eyes didn’t burn, her throat wasn’t raw, and she was able to work with power in the fields of cutting flowers south of town.
Juan stayed in Mexicali for several days, drinking and sleeping and getting his nerves to calm down. He then headed west, on the Mexican side of the border to Tijuana.
In Tijuana, Juan bought all the American newspapers he could find to see if there was anything more about the setup in San Bernardino. But he had such a hard time trying to read the paper that he swore to himself he was going to take the time to teach himself how to read well in English, too, especially before he had children and proved to be an embarrassment to them.
Not finding anything in any of the papers, Juan decided to take the bull by the horns. He sneaked across the border to San Diego and paid a man ten dollars to drive him up the coast. Walking into the barrio of Carlsbad, Juan spotted a man who looked about his size. He stopped him and offered him a crisp twenty-dollar bill for his dirty work clothes. The man stripped his clothes off right on the spot.
After changing into the dirty clothes, Juan decided to go to the pool hall, hoping to see Archie. A couple of trucks loaded with workmen came down the road, but Juan paid no attention to the trucks. He was too preoccupied. After all, Archie was the local law, so if things had truly gotten bad in San Bernardino, there was a good chance that Archie was out to get him, too. Selling a little whiskey on the side for a lawman wasn’t too bad, but helping an accused killer was no good at all.
With his heart pounding, Juan mounted the steps of the pool hall. There were a dozen men inside. Juan spotted Archie behind the bar, talking to the tall, one-armed man who ran the pool hall for him. Juan had his .45 under his pants, feeling big and flat. He changed his mind, deciding that there was just too much at risk. He turned and was going back down the street, when he saw Lupe and Victoriano in the back of a truck.
Juan stopped, rooted to the earth, and he watched Lupe and her brother get down from the tall, flatbed truck full of workmen. Oh, he just wanted to rush up and grab Lupe and tell her that they were destined to be together, that ever since he could remember, he’d been searching for her so that they could marry and have children and a wonderful life together like his grandfather Don Pío had had with his wife, Silveria. But he was on the run, so he couldn’t just go up and pour his heart out to her.
Juan pulled down the brim of his dirty little hat and went down the alley behind the pool hall before Lupe or her brother saw him. Behind the pool hall, he leaned back on the wall, trying to calm down. Oh, just the sight of Lupe drove him crazy-loco. He gripped his forehead, trying to gather his thoughts. “Calm down,” he said to himself, “first things first.”
He decided to go over to Consuelo’s house and have her go to Archie in order to feel him out about the San Bernardino situation. But then, getting to Consuelo’s place, the world exploded.
“Juan!” said the old lady, “where the hell have you been? There’s no liquor in all Southern California! Everybody is going crazy! I need five barrels right now!”
“How much?” he asked, suddenly feeling rich.
“Price is no problem!” said Consuelo. “Give me credit, and I’ll pay ten dollars extra a barrel!”
“On credit, I need seventy a barrel,” he said.
“Cabrón!” she laughed. “That’s twenty extra! But all right! I need it tonight.”
“Tomorrow,” he said.
The old woman stopped her words. “By the way,” she said, “Archie, he’s been looking for you.”
Juan felt his balls move up into his body, but still he held, showing nothing. “Alone?” he asked.
“No,” said Consuelo, “he had a man with him.”
Suddenly, Juan wanted to run, to escape, just like the coyote. But no, he couldn’t abandon Lupe and everything he had going here and return to the safety of Mexico.
“Well, are you going to get the liquor for me or not?” asked Consuelo.
Taking a breath, Juan pulled down into his guts. “Yes,” he said, “but right now I’m hungry and I need to rest and figure things out.”
“I’ll fix the bed for you in back,” she said, “but don’t take too long. We’re losing money!”
After having rested a couple of hours, Juan told Consuelo that he’d need a truck. She told him that a friend of hers had just opened up a garage across town and had several trucks.
“He was married to one of my cousins,” said the old lady, clearing the table where they’d eaten together.
“But she died at childbirth. He’s a good gringo. You can trust him.”
“He drinks, eh?”
“What man doesn’t?”
Outside, there was still plenty of daylight. Juan pulled down his hat and started up the street, following the directions that Consuelo had given him. Finding the garage, Juan stepped inside, and, to his surprise, there sat Kenny, the tough old Anglo from the rock quarry in Corona.
“I’ll be damned,” said the old, white-haired man, grinning ear-to-ear. “Ain’t you a sorry sight!”
“What are you doing here?” asked Juan.
“I own this place,” said Kenny.
“No, really?”
“Hell, yes! I gave you my word, so hell, when I saw all that trouble wasn’t gonna stop, I quit,” he said.
“You’re kidding,” said Juan.
“Nope, my word’s my bond. Tried to find you after that, Juan, but I was told you’d left town.”
“I’ll be damned,” said Juan, shaking the old man’s
huge, ham-like hand. “I’ll be a son-of-a-bitch!” He’d never known a gringo who’d kept his word to a Mexican before.
“Me, too,” said Kenny, “I’ve been a son-of-a-bitch lots of times,” looking at Juan in the eyes, feeling proud that he’d finally come to see, face-to-face, the man whom he’d given his word to. “So what can I do for you?”
Juan laughed. He hadn’t felt so at-home in days. “Well, I’m a good friend of Consuelo’s and she . . .
“Yeah, I know,” said Kenny. “Archie and I went looking over there for you.”
“You know Archie, too?”
“Hell, everyone in the southland knows that old Indian son-of-a-bitch!”
“Then wait, hey, you couldn’t be the same man who came looking for me with Archie at Consuelo’s the other day?”
“Yep,” said Kenny, “one and the same. Archie can’t find any whiskey, and he’s powerful thirsty.”
“You mean Archie’s looking for me to buy whiskey?” asked Juan, feeling the blood coming back into his heart.
“Yeah, that’s what he said. I don’t think he was out to arrest your ass.” He grinned. “But you can’t tell about Archie. Hell, if that bastard had his way, he’d arrest every son-of-a-bitch in the state and give the whole country back to the Indians!”
“Yeah, I guess you’re right about that,” said Juan, still feeling a little cautious. “By the way, Kenny, I’m not going by ‘Juan’ anymore. From now on my name is Salvador. Juan, he’s gone back to Mexico and he died. I never knew him.”
“I see,” said the old man, asking no questions. After all, California was mostly uninhabited and a lot of people changed their names and started new lives. “So, Salvador,” said Kenny, “tell me what you need.”
“Well,” said Salvador, eyeing the old Anglo, wondering if he was making a mistake to trust him, “I need a truck and, also, I’m going to need a little help,” he added, fully realizing that he couldn’t just drive up to Corona by himself, even if Archie wasn’t out to get him. That big hairy-armed gorilla might still be after him.
“Shoot! I owe you one, amigo!”
“All right,” said Salvador, watching his eyes closely, especially the left one, “but this one could get dangerous.”
“Just how I like my women!” yelled the old man, his bright, blue eyes dancing with merriment.
“Okay, then,” said Salvador, “you meet me tomorrow at daybreak with a truck, but dressed in your Sunday best.”
Kenny laughed. “You got it, amigo.”
All night, Salvador tossed and turned, thinking about Kenny and if he’d been a fool to bring a gringo into his confidence. Hell, every man in the barrio would laugh at him if his plan backfired.
Then in the early morning hours, Juan had a dream of Lupe coming to him on a cloud of white flowers like an angel. He opened his arms and they were just going to embrace when Tom Mix suddenly grabbed her. Salvador awoke in a sweat. Oh, he could just feel it; he was going to lose Lupe and everything if he wasn’t careful.
The sun was just beginning to paint the sky when Kenny drove up in his truck to Consuelo’s house. He was dressed in a dark brown suit and his hair was slicked back. Going up to her door, Kenny noticed there was a red-eyed drunk sleeping on her steps.
“Is she open already?” asked the drunk.
“No, not yet, amigo,” said Kenny.
The old drunk sat there, looking Kenny up and down, sniffing at his shaving lotion. Finally, the front door opened and out came a woman wearing a black dress with a red shawl over her head. Kenny had to fight hard not to laugh. Why, it was Juan Salvador! He was wearing lipstick and powder and eye-coloring.
“Buenos días,” said Kenny to Salvador, “how about a kiss, querida?”
“Knock it off,” said Salvador under his breath, pulling the shawl closer around his face. He could see that the old drunk was giving him the eye.
“Well, of course, my dear,” said Kenny, taking Salvador’s arm.
“¡Oye, mamacita!” said the old drunk, getting to his feet. “So you don’t think mejicanos are good enough for you, puta!”
“Hey, this is my wife, amigo!” snapped Kenny, hugging Salvador closely.
“Oh, excuse me!” said the old drunk, slapping his hand over his mouth and taking off his hat. “I didn’t know!”
Mass was just letting out when Salvador and Kenny arrived in Corona. But Salvador knew that his mother would stay inside, praying alone for a while.
Helping Salvador out of the truck, Kenny walked him up the steps of the church, arm-in-arm. Several people glanced at them. Kenny pulled Juan in closer, kissing him on the cheek.
“You son-of-a-bitch!” whispered Salvador, jerking loose.
But Kenny only laughed. “Such language, my dear,” he said, “and at church!”
Inside, Salvador immediately spotted his mother in one of the rear pews, praying with her rosary. Salvador dipped his fingers into the holy water and made the sign of the cross, then genuflected as he stared down the side aisle.
He went up to the pew that his mother was in and slipped in beside her and knelt. At first his mother just moved over, giving him room, and continued her prayers. Then, when the woman moved closer again, his mother looked at her, wondering why this heavy-set lady was being such a nuisance when the church was empty and she could have taken any pew she wished. Doña Margarita saw that the woman beside her was none other than her own son. She gasped, gripping her heart.
“¡Dios mío!” she said. “I was just praying for a miracle, and here you are!”
She made the sign of the cross, thanking God, and drew Salvador into her arms. Hugging him, kissing him, she began to cry. All this time Kenny kept watch over them from the rear of the church where he stood with his hat in his hand. Kenny’s family had never been one for hugging or showing much emotion. The sight of this reunion moved his heart.
Then Kenny saw the priest coming down the aisle toward them. Quickly, he walked over to Salvador and his mother and told them that they had best be going.
Driving out of town, Kenny pulled off the road into some trees in a river bottom and parked.
“Well, if you don’t mind,” said Kenny, “I’ll stretch my legs while you folks talk.”
“Thank you,” said Salvador.
Kenny got out of the truck, cut a chew, and walked over to a place where he could see in all directions.
“Oh, I’d thought I’d lost you like all the others,” said Doña Margarita, running her fingertips over his face, trying to memorize his every curve. “I was asking God to take me to my rest if I couldn’t have you back. You are my inspiration, mi hijito! My gift in old age!”
“Oh, Mama,” said Juan Salvador, “you’ll never lose me!”
“With God’s help, I hope it’s true,” she said. “Because I don’t want to live without you.”
“Me, too,” he said. “I love you so much.”
“Then stop all this nonsense and get married,” she said, pushing her son away. “Now tell me what’s going on. They came looking for you right after José and Pedro came home.”
“The police?”
“Yes, five cars, full of armed men.”
He took a big breath. “Did they hurt any of you?”
“No, we kept calm, but still, they keep two policemen hidden in the orchard, watching our house night and day. We sent the children to give them tacos and they saw their guns and badges.” She laughed. “They’d thought no one knew about them! But, of course, everyone knew.”
Once more, Salvador thought of the big, hairy armed, Tom Mix bastard back at the hotel. He now knew for sure that he’d gotten Mario to talk. This was every bit as bad as he’d figured. So maybe Archie was just pretending to want to buy liquor and was really after him, too. He tried to keep calm and not show any fear in front of his mother.
“Also,” continued the old lady, “I think you should know, mi hijito, that it is said that Julio and his wife arrived in town last week and they’re driving your car all
around and spending money like fools.”
“What?” screamed Salvador. “Why, they’re supposed to be in Mexico! I bet those son-of-a-bitches are stealing my liquor!”
His mother made the sign of the cross over herself. “Thank God you have the liquor for them to steal, mi hijito.”
“Don’t be ridiculous, Mama. That’s my money!”
“I’m not being ridiculous,” she said calmly. “Who do you think the cops will follow?”
Salvador stared at his mother. Why, she was right. So, all he had to do was keep away from Julio and Geneva, pick up whatever liquor was left, and let the cops chase them like dogs after a rabbit. Oh, his mother was brilliant!
They visited a while longer and then Salvador finally decided to tell his mother about Lupe.
“Mama,” he said, “I’ve found the woman of my dreams.”
“Oh, mi hijito! You just don’t know how happy this makes me! This is the day I’ve prayed for! What’s her name?”
“Lupe,” he said.
“Lupe,” repeated the old woman. “Oh, Lupe is a beautiful name. And is she beautiful, too?”
“Oh, yes! She’s an angel!” he said, tears coming to his eyes, seeing how happy the news made his mother.
“Good,” said Doña Margarita. “And have you met her mother?”
“No, not yet,” he said.
“Well, then do, mi hijito. Because until you do, we know nothing. Remember, the seed never falls far from the plant. And when you see the old woman, you search her eyes, you talk to her, you learn all you can about her mind and soul. Because no matter how much you don’t want to believe it, that young beautiful woman that you see now will one day be much more like that old plant than you can ever imagine.”
Rain of Gold Page 49