Gordo

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Gordo Page 11

by Jaime Cortez


  “Do it, Delia,” says my ma. “Go.”

  “You’re right. I have to go before something terrible happens.”

  “Something terrible happened already. She hits you. Locks you up. She’s probably done brujería on you. What more do you want?”

  “You’re right. I tried to make it work with Alex. I loved Alex, but she killed that. I don’t want any more of this. I’m going to accept the bus ticket to Chicago from my cousin. To escape, I need help getting my bags over the fence and to the bus station. Can you help me, Esperanza?”

  “Yes,” said Ma. “I’ll get my brother Hector. He can help you get your things out and drive you to the bus station. When do you want to escape?”

  “I don’t know yet. I can give you my cousin’s number. Would you please call him and ask him to send the ticket?”

  “I have a better idea. Let me buy you the ticket today, and we can get you out of here tomorrow. Give me your cousin’s number. I’ll let him know you’re coming. What is his name?”

  “Salvador. Everyone calls him Chava.”

  “Good. I’ll call him today,” says my ma.

  “Esperanza, do you believe what Alex said to me, about the invisible eye? Can people follow you around that way?”

  “She’s crazy. Jealous. Worse than a man, because she should know better. You have to leave. You should worry about that, not some magic eye.” Delia is quiet for a moment, then she says, “You’re right.” My ma calls to me.

  “Gordo, you can stop pretending to work and go get a paper and pencil for Delia.”

  “Okay, Ma,” I say. Dang. I thought I was pretty slick, listening to them. I go into the house and get my notepad and a pencil. I bring it to Ma, and she folds it in half like a taco with the pencil in the middle and pushes it through the hole in the fence.

  “Here, Delia,” says Ma. “Write down his full name and his phone. I’ll call him and let him know we’re sending you to Chicago.”

  “Gracias, Esperanza. May God reward you. We’ll send money back to—”

  “Don’t worry about it for now. Just get the hell out of that loca’s prison.”

  “I know it’s hard to understand, but I loved her.”

  “Everybody makes bad choices sometimes. You’re pretty. You’re young. You’re a good person. Now look at her. What’s so great about her? She’s not nice to you. She has bad character. And that face of hers doesn’t help either. Find a nice man in Chicago and settle down.”

  “That’s not for me.”

  “A good man would be so good for you. A good one can protect you. You could start a family.”

  “That’s not what I want,” says Delia.

  “Okay, mija. Go find a woman but no more brujas locas.”

  “Maybe it’s better to be alone.”

  “Alone? That is the most sensible thing I’ve ever heard you say.”

  * * *

  Me and Ma go to Salinas where the big Greyhound bus station is. I translate for Ma, like always.

  “Excuse me, mister. Do you have buses to Chicago?”

  “Yes. We have two buses leaving for Chicago. Let’s see … they leave every day at seven in the morning and again at two in the afternoon.” I explain to Ma, and she tells me to order one for the afternoon bus.

  “How much is the two o’clock bus ticket?”

  “It costs sixty-five dollars,” says the ticket man. I look at my ma to translate, but I remember she understands numbers. She opens up her purse and pulls out some twenties and pays.

  Ma tries out her English with the Greyhound man.

  “How machi time it take, the Cheecago bas?”

  “Let’s see. With all the stops, it takes two and a half days.”

  “The bus stations having toilets?”

  “Yes. And the bus has a bathroom too.” Ma looks at me. She is confused. I translate. Her eyebrows go up like she’s surprised. I’m surprised too. The ticket guy looks at us. He probably thinks we’re dumb Mexicans who don’t know nothing, but I can’t help it if I look surprised. I never thought you could poop on the bus. You can’t poop on the school bus. We thank the man and take Delia’s ticket.

  When we get back to the house, Ma goes right to the fence and talks to Delia. They talk for like twenty minutes, but I can’t hear what they’re saying. When Ma comes back into the house, I have to know what is happening.

  “Is she ready to leave for Chicago?” I ask.

  “Yes,” says Ma. “Delia is going to pack her things tomorrow as soon as Alex leaves for work in the morning. A couple of suitcases and boxes. Then your Tio Hector is coming, and he’s going to help her get her stuff out, drive her to the Greyhound, and get her out of that prison.”

  “What if Alex returns home while we’re trying to escape?”

  “Alex won’t, because she’ll be at work.”

  “But what if Alex gets a feeling something is happening and she returns home and catches us?”

  “If that happens,” says Ma, “your Tio Hector will have to beat up Alex and escape.”

  “What if Alex has a rifle?”

  “Alex won’t have a gun. But I’ll tell Hector to bring his machete, just in case.”

  “Ma, you can’t fight a gun with a machete.”

  “That’s enough, Gordo. No more crazy gun talk. Delia is going to escape, and we’re going to help her.”

  * * *

  That night, it takes a long time to fall asleep. I have a bad dream. I’m lying in bed reading comic books and suddenly I see a blue light in the room. It’s a big giant eye, floating in the air like a balloon. When it moves, it sounds like Darth Vader’s light saver. I know it’s the eye Alex uses to spy on Delia, the jealous bruja eye that never sleeps. I know it’s angry at me. I jump out of bed and run to get out of the room, but the eye moves fast like a humingbird and gets between me and the door. I grab a broomstick that’s leaning in the corner like a baseball bat and swing at the eye. I swing and swing like some dumb kid trying to hit a jumpy piñata, but the eye zooms around so fast, I never hit it. It corners me. I jump at it and grab it in a bear hug. I hear an awful sound like when like when Grandpa stabs the long knife into a pig’s throat to kill it for Christmas tamales. I wake up. I look around and I know there’s no giant eye, but I still feel scared. It felt so real.

  * * *

  The next morning, I get up before the alarm clock. I hear my ma and pa get up. I smell Ma’s coffee and the tortillas and beef she is cooking to make Pa’s lunch. I hear Pa get in his truck and drive away to work. I stay in bed as the sun comes up, listening for Alex’s truck leaving. When I hear some noises over the fence, I peek out the window. It’s Alex. She gets in her truck and turns it on to let it warm up before she leaves. I can see her at the front fence. She’s unlocking the chain and opening up the front gate. She goes back into the house and returns to the car with her silver lunch pail. She pulls the Toyota out to the street and she wraps the chain around the gate and locks it up. Then she leaves.

  I walk into the kitchen and Ma is standing by the window. She’s also been watching.

  “She’s gone,” says Ma, opening the curtains.

  “You think Alex will come back?” I ask.

  “It’s time to help Delia. C’mon.”

  We go to the fence. Delia is already there.

  “Are you ready, Delia?” asks Ma.

  “Ay, señora. I can’t. This’ll never work. I’m scared.”

  “Ay, mija. Of course you’re scared, but you have to do it anyways,” says Ma. “We’re here to help you. My brother Hector will arrive in ten minutes when I call him, and we can get you out of here.”

  “I can’t. I’m sorry. She’s a bruja. Who knows what she’ll do to me, to my family, or to you for helping me.”

  “Whatever she does, it won’t be worse than what she already did to you. You have a good future ahead of you, Delia, but you have to escape. We support you. Your cousin is so worried about you. He loves you, and he’s waiting for you in Chicago. Go get your t
hings now.”

  “But there’s so much stuff. I couldn’t pack yesterday because she’d get suspicious.”

  “Quickly pack the most important things in two suitcases. A jacket and sweaters for the cold. Your papers. Your money. Toothbrush and toothpaste for the long bus ride. Family pictures. If something doesn’t fit in your suitcase, leave it. You can always replace your things in Chicago. You can do it.”

  “Okay,” says Delia.

  “Good girl! Go get packed while I call my brother.” Ma goes back into the house and calls Tio Hector, and in fifteen minutes he turns up, whistling like nothing is happening.

  “Hola, mi Gordo!” he says to me. He gives me a big hug and pats my back hard.

  “Look how big you’re getting,” he says to me. “You’re almost taller than me.” I’m so glad he’s here. I feel braver already. We take him to the front gate of Alex’s house, and Delia comes out. When Tio Hector sees her, he says “wow” very quietly. She comes to the fence, and my ma introduces them.

  “Are you almost ready?” asks Ma.

  “Almost,” says Delia.

  “Okay,” says tio. “I’ll take care of this chain in the meantime. C’mon, Gordo.” Tio Hector and me go back to his little red Pinto and he opens up the back. Inside there is a big blue gym bag, and he grabs it. We walk back to Delia’s driveway. Tio Hector puts the bag down. He looks up and down Hudson Street.

  “Gordo, if you see a car coming, tell me. We don’t want anyone to see me cutting this chain.” He unzips the bag. Inside there is a machete with a taped-up handle and giant orange scissor thingies, like the ones my pa uses to cut the branches on our apple tree in the winter.

  “What’s that?” I ask.

  “Bolt cutters,” he says. “I can cut chains with this baby.” He looks up and down the street one more time, grabs the chain with the tip of the scissors, and presses down. Nothing happens. He tries harder. The muscles in his neck pop out, but nothing happens.

  “Hijo de puta!” he says to the chain. He tries again. He spreads his legs open and presses down hard on the bolt cutters. His arms are shaking. I hear click, and the chain drops. Wow. Tio Hector almost shit a brick, but he did it! He takes the chain off the gate and opens it up. In the backyard, Choco starts barking. We go over to Alex’s door. It is open, but my tio knocks anyways.

  “Are you ready, señorita?” he asks Delia.

  “Almost,” says Delia from inside.

  “We should go now.”

  “Please come in and take these,” says Delia. We go into the house. I feel scared being in Alex’s house. There is a picture of her and Delia taped to the wall. They look pretty happy, but I feel like Alex is watching me. Delia has two suitcases that are stuffed like fat chorizos. There is already one box wrapped with silver tape, and she is taping up another one. Tio Hector takes the suitcases, and I take the first box, while Delia finishes taping.

  We load up Delia’s stuff in his Pinto and walk back to her house. Tio Hector picks up the last box. Delia looks through her purse, zips it up, and puts it on her shoulder. We go out, and she locks the door. Choco is barking, so Delia goes and kneels next to him. His tail is wagging, and he is licking her face. She hugs him around the neck and kisses his forehead. As she walks to us, I can see that her eyes are wet. Delia grabs a broom from the deck. Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh. She starts to sweep away our footprints in the dirt. She walks backward and makes all the footprints disappear. My tio is watching her; he looks sideways at me. I can tell he thinks this is weird. I do too, but I understand now. Alex is a really bad person. Delia has to disappear so good that even Encyclopedia Brown couldn’t figure out how she did it. At the end of the driveway, Delia finally closes the gate.

  * * *

  “Let’s start this adventure,” says Tio Hector. He’s smiling like we’re going to Disneyland or something. Delia smiles a little bit too, but she doesn’t look happy. We walk up Hudson Street to our house. My ma is waiting by the Pinto.

  “We should go now,” says my tio.

  “Wait,” says Ma. She goes into the house and comes back with a little brown bag in one hand and a necklace in her other hand. She stands face-to-face in front of Delia.

  “Here are some burritos to eat on the bus when you get hungry. You need blessings, hija. Benedictions,” says Ma. Delia puts her hands together to pray, looks down, and closes her eyes. Ma puts the necklace around Delia’s neck and pulls Delia’s long hair over the necklace.

  “This is Saint Christopher. He’ll watch over your travels,” says Ma.

  “Now give me your hand.” Delia lifts up her hand, and Ma slides a little blue bracelet on Delia’s wrist. It has a silver hand with an eye on it.

  “This is the eye of Fatima, to protect you from the evil eye.”

  Ma begins praying the Ave Maria. She does the sign of the cross on Delia, the big sign. She goes from Delia’s forehead to her belly button to her shoulders. Then she draws a circle in the air around Delia. Then she does it again, praying and praying. Delia’s back begins to shake. Ma does the sign of the cross again, and Delia covers her face and cries really hard but quietly, like she doesn’t want to bother anyone. Ma hugs her, and Delia holds on to Ma like she is drowning and Ma’s gonna save her. Ma puts her hands on Delia’s cheeks and lifts up her face. Their noses are almost kissing.

  “Go and be happy,” says Ma. “It snows there in Chicago. Go see the snow. Have you ever seen it?”

  “Only on television.”

  “Can you imagine how pretty the snow will be? Like a movie.” Ma smiles. I can almost believe it’s gonna be okay. Delia wipes her wet face with the back of her hand. Ma kisses her on the forehead.

  “Ready to go?” asks Tio Hector.

  “I’m ready.” They get into Tio Hector’s little red car. He backs out of the driveway. We wave and wave at Delia, and she waves once. The car pulls away, and she’s gone.

  * * *

  Me and Ma stand in the driveway. Delia’s gone. I don’t know what to do. But Ma knows. I look up at her. Her mouth is moving. I can barely hear her, but I know she is praying hard.

  O clement, O loving, O sweet Virgin.

  To thee do we cry, poor banished children of Eve.

  Protect her.

  Protect her like a mother.

  Spread your green cloak with the gold stars and wrap it around her.

  Hide her from the evil eyes that will search for her to hurt her.

  Protect her, Holy Queen, Mother of Mercy, our life, our sweetness, our gracious advocate, and our hope.

  Amen.

  “Amen,” I say. “I never heard that prayer before.”

  “I made some of it up. Let’s hope it works, mijo.”

  It felt good to help Delia escape in the morning, but all day long I feel like something bad is gonna happen, like a big black rock is sitting at the bottom of my stomach. I close the curtains on the two windows that face Alex’s house. Around 4:30 p.m., I get more and more nervous. Alex is gonna be home soon. I open the curtains, but only an inch, to spy on Alex’s place and see if she’s home from work.

  * * *

  When I see her rusty pickup coming up Hudson Street, my heart is like a big fist, trying to break out of my chest. Alex gets out of her truck to open the gate. She sees the broken chain and stops. I stop breathing. She jogs to the door and pulls out her keys so fast she drops them. She opens the door.

  “Gordo!” says Ma. I jump. I step back from the window.

  “Jesus, Ma! You almost gave me a heart attack. I was looking to see when Alex got home.”

  “You don’t worry about Alex and get away from that window.” I step away. She opens the curtains wide open.

  “Don’t, Ma! Close the curtains. What if she comes here to our house?”

  “Of course she is going to come. Sylvie, come here now!” says Ma. Sylvie walks into the room. “Listen carefully, both of you. If Alex asks you about Delia, you didn’t see anything, you don’t know anything. You were both with me all day at y
our nana’s in San Juan Bautista. We went to Lucky’s and then to McDonald’s and then the Goodwill. That’s the story, okay?”

  “Okay,” we both say.

  “I’ll do the talking. You stay quiet. Now go watch TV or read or something and stop spying.” Sylvie goes outside, and I go to the living room sofa and pick up Encyclopedia Brown Saves the Day. He’s my favorite, but when I read a sentence, I can’t remember what I just read. I keep trying to read, but nothing is making sense. I close the book and turn on the TV instead. It’s Bewitched. Samantha’s funny Uncle Arthur is on the show today. He’s the best, but I’m too nervous to have fun watching him. Ma starts cooking. Time goes super slow. I smell onions cooking, then meat, then chilis. My stomach makes a small animal noise I’ve never heard before. I watch the clock. If Alex comes to our house looking for Delia, I hope Pa is home by then. He’ll send her down a tube if she tries to hit anybody or say things. Pa usually gets home by 5:30 p.m., maybe 6:00 p.m., unless he’s drinking or went to Lucky’s.

  Ma tells me and Sylvie to eat. It’s refried beans, tortillas, and chili con carne. I’m eating my food when I hear the knock on the door. Sylvie says, “Uh-oh.” I want to lock the door and hide, but instead, I gotta pretend everything is normal. Ma nods at me. I nod back at her. I hear Ma open the door.

  “Hola, Esperanza.”

  “Hola, Alex,” says Ma.

  “Esperanza. Do you have a moment?”

  “Yes, come in,” says Ma. “Come and eat with us.”

  “Thank you, but I’m not hungry.”

  “How about coffee then?”

 

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