I looked at this woman like she was crazy. God didn’t come to the ghetto, or else there wouldn’t be a ghetto. So, the last thing I felt like hearing was any kind of sermon from her.
“Thank you, ma’am,” I said simply. I might have been a “thug,” but my grandmother still made sure I was raised with manners.
“No, I’m serious,” the woman continued. “It might not seem like it”—she squeezed her children’s hands—“but God is always working for us. In fact, He just delivered me from a situation I never thought possible.”
“Okay,” I said, forcing a smile and regretting that I had ever spoken to her.
“I’m just saying, when you’re at your lowest, remember who can pick you up.”
“Okay,” I said, only this time I forgot those respectful manners my Grams had taught me and rolled my eyes.
“Mama, I’m hungry,” the little boy said. I was grateful for his interruption so she could stop her preaching.
“Okay, sweetie,” she said. “I’ll fix you something when we get home.”
I thought about those bologna sandwiches I had dropped when I was running from Monster and his goons, and my stomach instantly growled.
“Oh, you know what?” the woman said, “I have some chips and juice in my bag.”
She pulled out several small bags of generic-looking Fritos. She handed each of them a bag and had just opened the bag for herself when she caught me staring. I don’t know if it was the way my mouth was watering or if it was because I was looking at those chips like they were the Last Supper, but she said, “You know what? This isn’t even on my diet plan. Would you like them?” She offered the bag to me.
I wanted to decline, but my stomach cursed me for even thinking about saying no.
I nodded, and she handed me the chips, along with a Capri Sun. I pulled the chips out of the bag and devoured them. Her kids were staring at me, and I realized I must have looked like some kind of savage.
“Sorry. Just a little hungry,” I said, my mouth full of chips.
“It’s okay,” the woman replied with a warm, nonjudgmental smile.
“Mommy, do you have to go back to work?” the little girl said, not interested in anything I had going on. “The last time you went there . . .”
“I know, sweetheart. But that’s not going to happen this time.”
“You promise?” the little boy asked.
“I promise.” She rubbed his hair.
They sulked and I got out of their conversation and returned to thoughts of what I was going to do next. I had nowhere to go. No money, and I couldn’t ride this bus forever. I reached into my back pocket for my cell phone and realized it was gone. I cursed because I thought I’d dropped something when I pulled my bus pass out to get on the bus. But I’d been in such a hurry that I didn’t pay it any attention. It was dead since I’d been gone from home so long, but I still needed it.
The woman reached up and pulled the string for her stop. She turned to me as they stood. “You take care of yourself, okay, young man?”
“Yes, ma’am,” I replied.
She flashed one last smile and then got off the bus.
We had just taken off when I looked down and noticed the bag from which she’d pulled the snacks.
“Hey,” I said, jumping up and trying to tap the window, but by that point she was gone, shuffling her children ahead of her as they walked down the street.
I fell back in my seat and glanced in the bag. There were a few envelopes, other stuff, and a black wallet.
That lady was talking about God. Maybe this was the blessing she was talking about coming my way. I glanced around the bus. There were only a few other people on it, and no one was paying any attention to me, so I leaned over and slid the bag toward me. I reached in, pulled out the wallet, and opened it, hoping to find some money. I saw pictures of her kids and my heart slowed a bit. I wondered if my mother had ever carried pictures of us. It was obvious the love that woman had for her children. The sight of those pictures in her wallet made me long for Grams. While my mom wasn’t the best at mothering, Grams always made sure we knew that we were loved.
“Dang,” I said when I looked through her wallet. She had eleven dollars. A ten and a one-dollar bill. That would do nothing for me. I pulled out what looked like her work badge.
“The Markham Hotel. Anna Rodríguez,” I read. I stuffed it back in her bag and went through it some more. That’s when I noticed what looked like some court papers and birth certificates. There was also a newspaper article with her picture, so I scanned the story.
Wow. This woman had been through it, I thought after I’d finished reading. She’d almost been deported, and like me, her kids would’ve been motherless. I wondered if she’d need these official-looking papers.
But it was the next thing I found in her bag that made my heart move from a slow beat to a full-on pause. It was a string of beads, I think they call them a rosary, that were wrapped around a photo. A photo of a young Hispanic guy. A photo of Paco.
You’re about the same age as my oldest son.
Anna Rodríguez.
Paco Rodríguez.
This was Paco’s mother!
The beads trembled in my hands. I wondered: Did she know he was dead? Had the police ID’d him and let her know? I thought about it. She couldn’t know because she spoke like she thought he was still living.
Oh, my God. I needed to tell her about Paco. And I needed to get her back her bag.
“Hey, mister,” I said to the bus driver once he pulled away from the next stop. “This lady left her bag.”
“Throw it in this trash bin,” he said without looking up at me. “I’m sick of folks leaving their mess on my bus.”
I side-eyed him, then decided I’d return this to her myself. I’d done enough wrong in my life. Now I wanted to do something right. I owed Paco that much.
“Hey, do you know where the Markham Hotel is?” I asked the driver.
“Do I look like a GPS?” he snapped.
“Really, man? What is your problem?”
He slammed on the brakes. There were five other people on the bus, and all of us braced ourselves to keep from falling.
“Have you lost your mind?” I yelled.
He threw the bus in park, turned to me, and jabbed a finger in my direction. “I’m sick of you little punks coming on my bus and trying to talk to me crazy.”
“What are you talking about? I just asked a question,” I said.
He stood and faced me. “You’re a disrespectful little punk. Now, get off my bus!”
I was dumbfounded. Either this guy had had a really bad day or he was out of his mind.
He reached down, pulled the lever, and swung the door open. “Get off my bus.”
“What?” I was still trying to understand what I’d done wrong.
“I said, get off.”
He reached for my arm like he was going to force me off, but I jerked it away.
“Don’t make me call the cops,” he warned.
I couldn’t believe this was happening. “Fine!”
I got off the bus, still in shock and wondering what I was supposed to do now.
Yet I knew. I’d been put off the bus so I could go find Mrs. Rodríguez and break the news about her son.
I sighed and began walking in the direction I’d seen her go.
chapter
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40
I had been walking for about thirty minutes. I still didn’t know where I was headed. I just went back in the direction we’d come from. I knew I was near downtown, but I had no idea where I was going from here. I felt something vibrating in the bag and realized it was the lady’s cell phone.
I waited for the call to stop, then decided to see if she had Internet, since this was one of the earlier iPhones. Thankfully, it wasn’t locked. Tapping the Safari icon, I pulled up the address for the Markham Hotel, then used the GPS to direct me. I thought about keeping the phone, since I’d lost mine, but once she
found out she’d lost it, she’d probably cut it off, so it wouldn’t do me any good anyway.
I don’t know why I was bothering to take this lady’s bag back, but I was determined. I was just about to turn the corner when I saw a royal-blue car with what looked like Monster’s bodyguard driving. I couldn’t tell for sure if it was Monster’s crew, but I took off running anyway. Thankfully, as soon as I got to the next street, the Markham Hotel loomed in front of me. I darted inside, praying if that was Monster, I hadn’t been spotted.
“Yes, may I help you?” the man at the front desk said as I came in.
“Yeah, ummm, ummm,” I stammered, then remembered the bag. “Yeah, I found this and it belongs to one of your employees.”
“Really, you found it?” He raised his left eyebrow. “Which employee?” I could tell he was suspicious.
“Someone named Anna Rodríguez. Her badge was in there.” I looked around.
“Anna isn’t here,” he said.
I paused, trying to figure out my next move. “Is it okay if I just wait for her to come to work?”
“She doesn’t work here anymore.”
“Oh. I just assumed this is where she was headed because her kid said something about not wanting her to go to work.”
“Well, I can call her. Just leave the bag with me,” the man said.
I was just about to hand the bag over when Mrs. Rodríguez walked into the lobby.
“Hi, you’re the young man from the bus,” she said, smiling at me as she approached the counter. Her eyes went to her bag in my hand. “Is that mine?”
“H-hi, yes, ma’am.” I held up the bag. “You left this at your seat.”
“Oh, my God. I left it on the bus. I have been retracing my steps, thinking maybe I dropped it because I could’ve sworn I had it when I got off.”
“Yeah, I just thought I’d bring it to you. I looked in it to get your information and thought, you know, maybe you needed the stuff in there,” I said. “I didn’t take nothin’,” I felt the need to add.
“You have no idea,” she said, surprising me as she pulled me into a bear hug. “This has my wallet, ID, my new work visa, and what little money I do have in it.”
“Hmph,” the guy behind the counter mumbled. “Anna, you’d better check it.”
I cut my eyes at him. I didn’t have the time to deal with him. I kept glancing at the door, afraid that at any moment Monster and his crew would come in.
“I wish I had money to give you for a reward,” she said.
“I didn’t do it for a reward,” I told her. “It was the least I could do for you since, you know, you gave me the chips. The papers look really important, and I thought you might need them.”
Her face took on a questioning look and she studied me. “Is everything really okay?”
“Um, yeah, yeah,” I said. I was trying to get up the nerve to tell her about Paco. But how do you tell a mother her son is dead? “Well, I, ah . . . I just wanted to turn this in.” I glanced nervously around, then said, “Y’all got a bathroom around here?” Maybe if I had a little time to get myself together, I could tell her about Paco.
She nodded and pointed down the hall.
I thanked her, then took off. I ducked into the bathroom wondering how long I could hide out there. After about fifteen minutes, I heard a tap on the door, then Anna stuck her head in.
“Are you okay?” she asked me again.
I wanted to lie, but I was really scared. “Not really,” I admitted. “It’s some guys after me.”
She paused like she was wondering if she should get involved. Then she stepped into the men’s bathroom. “Did you do something wrong?” she asked.
“No, I swear. But they said I owe them money and I’m just scared they’re going to be waiting for me,” I said.
Anna sighed, then stuck her head back out the door. Seconds later, she reappeared. “Come with me.”
I followed her out of the bathroom. She peeked toward the lobby, then dipped in the opposite direction toward the stairwell. I waited a few seconds before I followed her. I didn’t ask questions as we climbed three flights of stairs.
“Wait right here,” she said when we got to the third floor.
She cracked the door that led into the hallway and said, “Rosa? Rosa?”
I heard someone say, “Anna, what are you doing here?”
“I came to turn in my keys and uniform and get my check that I never picked up,” she replied.
“You know I would’ve done that for you,” she said.
“It’s okay. But look, I need a favor.”
The lady must have been realizing by that time that Anna was peeking out of the stairwell. Her voice sounded like it was getting closer as she said, “Why did you take the stairwell? And why are you whispering?”
Anna opened the door and I cowered behind her.
“Who is that?” the lady asked.
Anna turned to me. “What’s your name, sweetie?”
“Trey,” I said.
She turned back to the woman. “This is Trey.”
Rosa’s eyes scanned me from head to toe. “Obviously, since you’re asking him his name, you don’t know him, so what are you doing?”
“Rosa, Trey is in a little trouble.”
“Okay, and . . . ?”
“Do you have an open room?”
Rosa cocked her head at her friend. “Really, Anna?”
Anna shrugged. “I’m already fired, so it doesn’t matter. All I need is for you to answer the question, then you can go clean the fourth floor.”
“Again, why are you doing this?”
“Because someone just helped me, remember?”
Rosa sighed and started what I guess she called whispering, even though I could hear her loud and clear. “How do you know he’s not some kind of killer, or thug, or gangbanger?” she asked.
“I’m not,” I spoke up.
She gave me the side-eye, then said, “Fine. But I don’t know anything about anything.”
“Which rooms are empty?”
She looked at me one last time, then said, “Ugh, 318 and 316 are empty.” Rosa handed her a key card.
“Okay.”
“I’m gone, I don’t know anything. I never saw you.” Rosa threw up her hands as she walked off. Anna motioned for me to follow her. She stopped in front of 318, but then said, “You know what, I’m going to put you in 316 because there’s a book in there that might do you some good.” She opened the door and walked in the room.
A book, really? I’m running for my life and this lady is talking about reading? But since I didn’t want to mess up anything, I kept my mouth shut and followed her in.
“Now, you can’t stay but a day.”
“What if someone checks in?” I asked.
“I’m going to go downstairs and talk to Wayne, my friend at the front desk.”
“He didn’t like me.”
“That’s okay, he likes me.” She smiled. “But you’ve got to promise me, no trouble. You can eat out of the minibar, Rosa will take care of that. I’ll swing back by tomorrow and make sure everything is okay when it’s time for you to leave.”
“Why are you doing this?” I repeated the question her friend had just asked.
“Like I told Rosa, someone just helped me. Plus, I have a son your age, and he finds trouble himself. I pray if he ever needs help, someone will help him.”
Tell her.
How was I supposed to tell this sweet woman her son was dead?
Just do it.
“Mrs. Rodríguez . . . um, I have something to tell you,” I began.
“Yes?”
I couldn’t do it. Me telling her about her son wasn’t going to bring him back. All it would do was cause her to lose it, pass out or something, which would bring attention to my being here and I’d probably get kicked out. No, I decided. I’d tell her when she came by tomorrow.
I hugged her. “I just wanted to tell you, thank you so much.”
She smile
d. “No. Thank you. Not many people would’ve returned my bag.” She walked over and closed the blinds before turning to me. “Make yourself at home, but I need you to be respectful.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Where are you going from here?” she asked.
I shrugged. “I just need to get some sleep and try to figure out my next move.”
I was thankful that she didn’t ask any more questions. “Okay. You know what, I can swing two days, but you’ll have to leave after that. So you can stay till Thursday. For now, though, just rest.” She pointed to a tattered Bible on the nightstand. “You might want to glance through that. It’ll help you with whatever you’re going through.”
I fake-smiled as I nodded. “Yes, ma’am. I sure will.”
As soon as she closed the door, I didn’t give that book a second thought. I turned on the TV and started flipping the channels, looking for BET.
chapter
* * *
41
This was the life.
Now I could see why people got caught up in making money because if money could provide like this, I definitely wanted it. The problem was, I wanted mine legally.
Getting it Monster’s way meant you were always running in fear, and I was tired of running. I had visions of me and Jamal traveling the world, chillin’ in hotels like this. We’d never been anywhere really. We went to Galveston once when I was a little boy, but other than that, we’d never been outside of the Houston area.
I’d had the best night’s sleep in years. The mattress was everything, and I’d never slept under such a plush bedspread.
The shower was next. At Gram’s and Ms. Laura’s, the water was always trickling and was always either too hot or too cold. This shower had been perfect.
Being still had given me a moment to reflect on the last couple of days. I cried for my friends and finally had to push thoughts of them aside or I’d never be able to figure out my next move.
I flipped the channels, seeing what was on TV. I stopped at The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air. That was one of my favorite shows. Maybe because I dreamed of being whisked away to a different world.
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