“I will, Mama. I’ll meet her mother.”
“Good, then you come and tell me about her. We must be very careful. Choosing the woman you marry is the most important decision of your life. Oh, I’ve waited so long to hear these words, mi hijito. I’ll pray day and night for you from now on. This is my dream: to have lived long enough to see my last-born child in love and married.” And her eyes filled with tears and they hugged and kissed, heart-to-heart.
“Well,” said Salvador, “I better be going, Mama.”
“And don’t worry about the police,” she said. “One day we’ll feed them tacos with so much old chile that they’ll get diarrhea and their assholes will burn for weeks!”
She laughed and laughed, and they hugged again. He was glad that he had told his mother about Lupe. Her heart was soaring, her eyes were dancing in anticipation of meeting her son’s beloved.
After dropping his mother back off at the church, Salvador and Kenny drove up into the mountains. Salvador washed the makeup off his face in the creek and put on his dirty work clothes. They hiked up the dry side of the riverbed. After finding the place where he and Julio had buried the barrels, they began to dig. But the barrels weren’t there. They dug up the whole area and found a few remaining barrels.
Juan went crazy with rage. Julio and Geneva had, indeed, stolen his liquor. He and Kenny loaded up what was left, sweating like animals as they ran up and down the creek. They finally took off.
Stopping by the second riverbed, they found that all those barrels were still there. They spent the next two hours muscling them a quarter of a mile farther up the creek, where they hid them in the brush behind a fallen tree.
Driving back to Carlsbad, Salvador added up the barrels they had left. He figured that Julio had stolen sixteen of his barrels, nearly a thousand dollars’ worth. Salvador was sure that Geneva had put him up to it. By himself, Julio would never have double-crossed him. Oh, Salvador felt ready to kill. Marrying the wrong woman could destroy a man. He thought of his mother. He thought of Lupe. He thought of Katherine up in Montana, who’d taught him so much about life and love and women. His mother was right; he’d have to meet Lupe’s mother and be very, very careful.
The fields of cutting-flowers were in bloom as far as the eye could see: rows of pink, red, yellow and blue. Coming down between the rows, Lupe saw that her father was sweating profusely. It was only eleven in the morning, but already the sun had drained Don Victor and he needed water.
Quickly, Lupe took his arm and started to the water truck. But, approaching the truck at the end of the field, Lupe saw the foreman sitting inside the cab. She stopped. They weren’t supposed to come in for water until noon, but Don Victor was coughing so badly that Lupe didn’t care what the foreman might say.
Her father was ice-cold by the time Lupe got him to the vehicle. On the back of the truck was a barrel of water and hanging on hooks was a row of tin cans with wire handles twisted around them. Lupe sat her father down in the shade of the truck and reached for one of the cans.
“Hey, you!” said the big, heavy-set foreman, getting out of the cab with the comic book he’d been reading. “It ain’t noon. You get your asses back out there!”
“But my father,” said Lupe, “he needs water.”
“Water, hell!” said the Anglo. He was a huge, fat man, six-feet-four and well over two hundred and fifty pounds. Lupe could smell him as he approached. “He looks more like an old wino to me,” he said.
Lupe turned red with anger, but still, she refused to be intimidated. She took one of the tin cans, holding her head high with dignity.
“Eh, girlie, I thought I told you no water ‘til noon,” he said.
But Lupe ignored him, filling the can with water and handing it to her father, who was now panting dangerously fast, like a tongue-swollen dog.
“Hey, stop that!” yelled the huge man, rushing up and knocking the can out of Don Victor’s hand. “You’re fired!” he yelled at the old man. “And you,” he said to Lupe, “get back to work or I’ll fire you, too!”
But Lupe didn’t move. Her father was gasping. He could die if she didn’t get him cooled down. “We’re not dogs,” she said, holding back her tears. “We’ve been working hard since before five! You have no right to abuse us like this!”
“No right?” yelled the big Anglo. “Well, you got another thing coming, moo-cha-cha-girl!”
And just then, as the big, red-faced Anglo began shouting insults at Lupe, he was grabbed by a blur of motion, spun about and hit in the stomach with such power that his feet came off the ground.
“No!” yelled Lupe.
But it was too late. It was Salvador, dressed in the dirty work clothes, who hit the foreman two more times in the face with his huge, iron-driving fists. The big, soft-bellied Anglo went crashing into the side of the truck.
Still moving, still feeling his whole heart pounding with rage, Juan reached down and got the can that the Anglo knocked away from Lupe’s father, rinsed it off, filled it with water and handed it to Lupe.
“Here,” he said, smiling, “for your father.”
“Thank you,” she said, “but you didn’t have to hit him so hard.”
“What?” said Salvador.
“So hard,” said Lupe. Her heart was pounding. Oh, how she hated violence. She turned back around to help her father drink the water down.
Salvador stood there, adrenaline pumping wildly, feeling confused, not understanding why Lupe hadn’t enjoyed how he’d hit the foreman, especially after how he’d treated them.
He watched Lupe help her father drink. Other people came off the field to drink water, too. They congratulated Salvador, telling him that this big Anglo was one of the most abusive foremen that they’d ever had. Several young women started flirting with Salvador. Then they heard the roar of the boss’s truck come rushing up the field and the workers tossed their cans and started back into the fields.
“Hold your ground!” yelled Salvador. “You’ve done nothing wrong! Drinking water is your right! Don’t move! We’re human beings! Not dogs! Damn it!”
His blood was boiling, just as it did back at the rock quarry. Still, most of the people ran back into the field, not wanting to be fired.
Seeing his people flee, Salvador got so mad at how little they thought of themselves that he reached down and grabbed the fat Anglo by the feet and dragged him around to the other side of the truck. Glancing around to make sure that no one was looking, he pulled out a pint bottle of whiskey and savagely rammed it into the fat man’s mouth, forcing him to drink it. The big man came to, coughing and choking. He jerked his head and tried to yell. His eyes bubbled up as if he were drowning, but Salvador only kneed him in the gut, forcing him to drink all the more. Don Victor, who was lying on the ground, saw the whole thing from underneath the truck.
When the boss’ truck came roaring up in a cloud of dust, Salvador dropped the bottle and started talking sweetly to the gasping Anglo, pretending that he was trying to stop him from choking.
“What the hell’s going on?” yelled the boss, leaping out of his truck. He was dressed in a western hat and cowboy boots and was as wide as a bull, but he wasn’t fat.
“I don’t know,” said Salvador, acting all scared and nervous. “He just went crazy.”
The boss grabbed the fallen foreman, smelled the whiskey all over him and said, “All right, Chris, this is the last time! You’re fired!”
Chris tried to talk, pointing at Juan Salvador, but still, he couldn’t make himself understood, he was gasping so much. The boss got him in his truck, yelling at everyone to take their noon break, and drove off.
Don Victor just couldn’t stop laughing. “Eh, you showed him,” he said excitedly to Salvador. “I saw everything! ¡Lo chingaste!”
“Sssssshh!” said Salvador. “I did nothing. He just went crazy by himself.”
“Oh, yeah, sure,” said Don Victor, patting Juan on the back. “He just went crazy by himself!”
A ve
ry good-looking young lady came up and handed Salvador a tin can of water. “For our King David,” she said, rolling her eyes at him suggestively.
Two other girls came up to Salvador and several men, too. Then one young man asked him if he wasn’t the same man who’d paid a workman a fortune for his dirty old clothes a few days back.
Salvador only grinned, saying nothing. Looking over the heads of the fieldworkers, he saw that Lupe was eyeing him in a most intriguing way. He smiled, feeling godly, and she smiled back.
When Victoriano and Carlota came out of the field, Victoriano immediately recognized Juan Salvador.
“Hey, Juan!” he said. “Where have you been? You never came back that day.”
“Salvador,” said Juan Salvador, taking Victoriano’s hand. “My full name is Juan Salvador Villaseñor, but I only go by ‘Salvador’ now.”
“Oh, I see,” said Victoriano, asking no questions. He knew that many of their people had several names for one reason or another.
“You know him?” asked Lupe, looking surprised.
“Sure,” said Victoriano, turning to Lupe, “Salvador is the one who had me drive his convertible around the block in Santa Ana for him.” He turned back around to Salvador. “By the way, did you ever find that noise?” he asked.
“No, never did,” said Salvador. “I think it just stopped.”
“Glad to hear that,” said Victoriano. “Why don’t you join us for lunch?”
“Well, I’d like to, but . . . ”
“Oh, no, please do,” said Don Victor. “I haven’t had so much fun in years! Victor Gómez at your service!” he added with a flair, tipping his hat.
“Salvador Villaseñor.”
“Glad to meet you,” said Don Victor, taking Salvador’s thick hand. “What a beautiful name, Villaseñor; the mister of the village,” he said, giving Salvador’s last name a rolling, dignified sound. “Here, I’d like you to meet my two daughters, Lupe and Carlota.”
Taming his pounding heart, Salvador turned and reached out to take Lupe’s hand, this woman, this lady, this queen whom he’d been worshiping from afar. But Carlota stepped in front of Lupe, taking his outstretched hand.
“I’m Carlota,” she said.
“Glad to meet you,” said Salvador.
Then he let go of Carlota’s hand and he reached for Lupe’s. Their eyes met and Lupe took his hand. And then something happened, something wonderful happened as their two hands touched, pulsating palm-to-palm—a power of life, of warmth, of enchantment.
“Mucho gusto, Lupe,” said Salvador, watching her watching him.
“The pleasure is all mine,” said Lupe, giving him a slight curtsy, but still holding his hand.
“Weren’t you the queen at the Cinco de Mayo in Santa Ana?” he asked, pressing his fingers about her hand.
“Yes,” she nodded. “And weren’t you standing in a car, watching the parade?” She squeezed his hand, giving him warmth.
“Oh, yes,” he said, feeling her fingertips tightening about his hand.
She blushed, feeling embarrassed with all the thoughts that were racing through her mind. Seeing her blush, Salvador became self-conscious, too, and let go of her hand.
“I’ve seen you before, too,” said Carlota, not liking how her sister was behaving.
“I don’t think so,” said Salvador.
“Oh, I think so,” said Carlota. “I remember, I saw you with Archie at the string bean dance last year.”
“Could be,” said Salvador. “I do know Archie.”
Suddenly, Lupe remembered the man who’d stared at her from the pool hall across the street from the dance. But no, that man had had a full beard and his eyes had looked so dark and penetrating—completely different. This man’s eyes were large and kind and surrounded by the longest eyelashes that she’d ever seen on a man.
“Well, come on, let’s go eat,” said Don Victor, still laughing, still thinking about that big, fat foreman and how Salvador had gotten him fired.
They walked along the edge of the field, going toward the brush that grew in a little arroyo beyond the field of flowers. The rows of cutting-flowers stretched out behind them, going over the rolling hills for miles in beautiful color—pink, yellow, gold, red, blue and lavender—all rolling down the hillsides in a dazzling rainbow of brightness, all the way down to the green lagoon and the blue sea in the distance.
Lupe could feel Salvador’s eyes on her as she walked ahead of him, and she couldn’t help but wonder about him and what he was doing here since he owned a big, luxurious car. She could still feel the touch of his thick hand in hers. It had fit her large hand so well.
“My wife isn’t feeling well, so she stayed home today,” said Don Victor as they walked along. “But the girls here, they’ll feed us.”
“I’m sorry to hear about your wife,” said Salvador. “I’d like to meet her. My own mother, she’s been a little tired lately, too. I think maybe it’s the weather.”
“Weather, hell,” laughed Don Victor as they went into the tall brush. “It’s old age! And it gets us all!”
Salvador laughed, too, and stole another glance at Lupe as they continued down the trail through the foliage.
Oh, he was flying inside. Everything was going so beautifully. Here he was, where he’d always wanted to be. He was no longer over there, staring from the distance, hoping, dreaming of being alongside this angel. No, he was here, in the center of the storm, walking alongside his truelove, feeling wonderful, feeling hot flashes exploding inside him. Heaven was here on earth with him now.
They came out at the other end of the tall brush to a place where the undergrowth had been cut away. The rocks and leaves were cleared off, and they had a view of the glistening flat lagoon and the sea in the distance.
“This is our little place,” said Don Victor, taking off his hat. His eyes were sunken and he looked very tired once again. “My wife, she fixed this place for us. Please make yourself at home.”
But, of course, Salvador didn’t just sit down first. No, he waited courteously for them all to sit down so he could see how they managed their little noonday home in the brush. Each family made a little place for themselves to eat and rest in the heat of the mid-day sun. There were no bathrooms or eating facilities provided for the migrant workers. Everyone had to make do for himself. And here, on the coast, they were lucky. There were trees and tall brush for them to make a place with shade to eat and for the women to hide and relieve themselves in privacy.
Breathing deeply, Salvador watched Lupe and Carlota squat down and make a little fire so that they could prepare lunch. Victoriano helped their father lie down on the ground to rest.
The other campesinos were also in the thicket, fixing their own mid-day meals. Blue smoke filtered up through the brush from their little fires. There was laughter and there were children running about and playing. Salvador paid no attention to this. He only had eyes for Lupe, watching her roll up the long sleeves of her white shirt and take off her hat to fan the tiny fire.
Oh, the nearness of her drove him crazy. Why, just being beside her felt more deeply satisfying than he’d felt in all his years of being with other women.
Don Victor began to snore. Victoriano went down to the lagoon to get water.
“So, what do you do for a living?” asked Carlota. “Certainly you don’t work in the fields,” she added, laughing. “You work too slow.”
“Ah, well, I have a couple of trucks,” said Salvador, trying to figure out what to say.
“Carlota,” said Lupe, “where are your manners? You know it’s not proper to be so intrusive.”
“Talking about manners, what do you call how you’re behaving?” snapped Carlota.
Lupe said nothing more. Salvador just sat and watched.
The food was ready when Victoriano came back with water from a spring by the lagoon. Carlota woke their father and they all began to eat. But they did not talk, they just ate the fire-warmed tortillas with hard-cured cheese and avocado a
nd round wheels of tomato with plenty of salt and salsa.
Salvador could feel Lupe’s closeness and hear her breathing as they continued eating in silence, listening to the birds in the branches above them and watching the small white clouds high overhead. All around them were the other fieldworkers, who made up the hidden village in the brush.
The afternoon breeze came off the lagoon, cooling the air. Lupe chewed her food, feeling more conscious of Salvador’s presence than she’d ever felt of any man except her Colonel. She chewed her food and sipped her water, sitting on the smooth, hard earth, regaining her strength from the long, hard morning. She thought of Mark and how much she enjoyed talking to him about school and books and how he respected her intelligence and her ambition of someday working in an office.
Oh, she felt so confused inside. She had so much with Mark. So, why was she feeling like this toward a perfect stranger? Like a sign from the Almighty, Lupe heard a buzzing sound above her. Looking up, she saw an enormous swarm of golden bees, humming with such fury as they came over the tall brush. Lupe just knew that God was speaking to her.
Magic was in the air. The flowers, the bees, the birds were all proof of God’s miraculous love and transported her back home to their beloved box canyon.
“Look, God is with us!” said Lupe, eyes dancing with excitement as she pointed at the glittering swarm.
They all looked. And Salvador saw the white underside of Lupe’s arm as she raised her hand, pointing to the sky, exposing the sunburned part of her body.
Oh, the sight of her private flesh sent Salvador spinning! He was in heaven, surrounded by golden honey bees, magnificent blue sky, rich green growth, glistening white water, and his truelove at his side. He thought of his mother and how happy she’d be to see him here in the brush with this family that passed its noonday meal with such dignity.
Rain of Gold Page 50