Unbroken

by Anne Schraff

  David’s heart was pounding. The palms of his hands were sweating. Paul turned into the driveway of the Sandoval house. David took in the pretty, well-kept yard and the nicely maintained house, with its fresh paint and nice drapes in the windows. It wasn’t a big house, and nothing about it was elegant. But anyone could tell that a good family lived here. A police cruiser had never come here to collect a member of the Sandoval family.

  David thought maybe he belonged with men like Freddy Meza and Augie Rojas, even though he wanted nothing to do with them. Surely, David thought, he didn’t belong here on Wren Street.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Carmen Ibarra’s red convertible was already parked on the street. She had come early to help Abel prepare dinner. When Paul rang the doorbell, David wanted to spin around and run down the walk, then down the street. Perhaps he’d slow down in the next county.

  But the door sprang open. There they were—Luis Sandoval and his wife, Maria, both of them smiling. In front of them were two little girls with huge eyes and lustrous black hair. Big grins brightened their faces.

  Before anybody else had a chance to say anything, Katalina Sandoval began chattering. “Hi, Paul! Hi, David! I’m Katalina, and I’m the oldest girl. You look just like Paul, David, only skinnier. Do you have tattoos? Paul has this cool tattoo of a rattlesnake that jumps when he makes a fist!”

  Not to be outdone, Juanita piped up. “Do you like The Flintstones? I love The Flintstones. I like it when Fred goes yabbadabba do. But Abuela says they’re real old. They were on the TV when she was young. But I love the old reruns, David.”

  David stared at the two little girls for a second. He seemed to be running something through his mind. Mom and Dad stared blankly at the girls. They’d planned a different greeting, but the girls seemed to have things over. Then David finally spoke.

  “Let’s see. Hi, Katalina. No, no tattoos. Hi, Juanita. Yes, I loved the Flintstones when I was little. They were reruns even then. Sometimes I wished Fred Flintstone was my dad.”

  Juanita giggled. “I wouldn’t want Fred Flintstone as my dad. He’d come to school and meet my teacher in those funny clothes.”

  Luis Sandoval finally grabbed David’s hand and greeted him. “Well, welcome, David. This is my wife, Maria. You’ve got to excuse my girls. They just love visitors.”

  “Hi, David,” Maria Sandoval said, clearing a path for Paul and David. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. Paul has said wonderful things about you.”

  Then, in her best “mom” voice, she commanded, “Come on girls, help Abel and Carmen set the table. The boys are hungry.” The aroma of carne asada filled the little house.

  Ernesto appeared from the hallway and introduced himself and Abuela. The two young men shook hands and exchanged greetings. The grandmother smiled at David and remarked, “You’ve got nice blue eyes like Paul.”

  On the way to the table, David studied Ernesto. He was a handsome young man. He looked perfect. David thought he probably was perfect. He had to be every mother’s dream of what a son should be. Fortunately, David thought, he never disappointed his own mother. She had disappointed him enough and didn’t live long enough for him to disappoint her.

  Katalina put herself between Paul and David. “Paul,” she commanded, “make a fist! I wanna see the snake on your hand jump!”

  Paul obliged by placing his fist close to the little girl’s face and squeezing his hand hard. The snake jumped, and the little girl screamed in delight.

  As people took their seats, David forgot all about sitting next to Carmen. He felt a lot better about how things would go down.

  Abel then appeared with Carmen, bringing the appetizer. It was rum chica rum chicken. It was chicken breast, marinated in orange, rum, and spices. Then it was grilled and cut into very thin slices. Able served it with a thickened version of the marinade and garnished with thin orange slices. They placed the plates in front of everyone and then sat down.

  “Wow!” Ernesto exclaimed as he took his first bite. “Abel, dude, slow down! It’s gonna be hard to top this.”

  Paul picked up Ernesto’s remark. “Here’s the dude who’s gonna rule the Internet as the chef of the century in a few years. Abel Ruiz, best cook on the planet. And by his side, the hottest nonstop-talking chick who sometimes takes a breath.”

  The table talk was on.

  “My teachers say I talk too much, too, Carmen,” Katalina chirped. “I’ve got Ms. Corona this year, and she’s really mean. She says she wishes it was the old days when teachers were allowed to put tape on their students’ mouths.”

  Carmen poked Paul in the shoulder. “He’s always dissing me about how much I talk, David. And he’s a worse big mouth than me.”

  “Yeah, I guess I do talk too,” Paul admitted. “I had one of those mean teachers in fourth grade, Kat. Remember, David, what I did?”

  David smirked as he recalled. It was the last year their mother was alive. They all lived together in a ratty little bungalow. As bad as things were, that year was the last good one David remembered.

  “Yeah,” David chuckled, “Paul had this pet tarantula. So he brought it to school and stuck it on the teacher’s desk when she was writing on the blackboard. She ran screaming out of the room.”

  Katalina and Juanita both screeched in delight. “What happened? What happened, Paul?” Juanita demanded. “Did you get busted?”

  Paul laughed and David went on. “Paul sneaked the tarantula back in his box and hid it in his book bag. When the teacher came running back with the principal, there was Paul, as innocent as a lamb, saying the teacher just imagined the whole thing. They couldn’t prove anything, so all Paul got was a scolding from the principal.”

  “Ooh, tarantulas are so spooky,” Katalina remarked. “They got furry bodies. Paul, was the tarantula really your pet?”

  “Sure,” Paul replied. “I named him Theodore.”

  Ernesto was quiet until this point, busy with his appetizer. Now he spoke up. “David, I had a pet chuckwalla when I was in fourth grade. Remember, Mom?”

  “Don’t remind me!” Maria Sandoval groaned with a wry grin. “It was such a horrible-looking creature. Luckily it didn’t eat live food like most lizards. It lived on flowers and cactus.”

  “Then my chuckwalla ran away, and I felt really bad,” Ernesto continued, with a wicked grin. “It was a tragedy.”

  “Yes,” Ernesto’s father added, “especially for the rest of us because it was loose somewhere in our house. They hide in crevices, and your mother wouldn’t even go to bed until we found it.”

  “After three days!” Mom wailed.

  Abuela Sandoval was not looking critically at David, as he thought she would. She was a kindly looking elderly woman, darker than her son, Luis. She joined the conversation, perhaps to fill the lull. She turned to David and commented, “My father’s name was David too. David Franco. It’s a fine, strong name, David.”

  David smiled at the woman. “Thanks. I like it too,” he responded.

  “Yes,” Paul agreed. “I always used to tell David when we were kids what to do if we ever ran into a bully. He hadda go get a slingshot, find a nice round stone, and put it right between the dude’s eyes. You know, like David in the Bible did to Goliath.”

  Abel and Carmen rose from the table, and people started handing their dishes down to them. The pair disappeared into the kitchen. After a few minutes, they came out again with plates of carne asada. It was wrapped up in a flour tortilla with a great-looking salsa and avocado slices.

  As everybody started eating dinner, compliments rained down on Abel. “Man,” Paul remarked, “this is the best carne asada I ever tasted.”

  “Did you take a lot of cooking lessons, Abel?” David asked. “This is a wonderful meal.”

  “No,” Abel responded. “I just listen to the chefs on TV and read a lot of books and stuff. I practice and practice. When I finish at Chavez, I’m goin’ to culinary school.”

  Then Abel asked, “How about you, David? Paul sa
id you took a lotta classes in accounting and public relations and stuff. What would you like to do?”

  “Soon’s I got a job nailed down,” David answered, “I’m going to the community college for more credits. I’ll probably go nights. But I’m not sure what I want to do . . .”

  Luis Sandoval spoke up. “They’ve got good counselors at the college, David. They can find your strengths and steer you in the right direction. When you get your associate in arts degree, you can transfer to the state university. I do some teaching at community. Stay in touch with me. I can help you when you’re ready.”

  “Thanks!” David responded. “I will.”

  David was starting to feel almost normal, like part of the human race. He was just a young guy having dinner with his brother’s friends. They didn’t look down at him at all because he’d been in prison. For the first time since he walked through those prison gates, David Morales had a new take on his future. Maybe, he thought, he did have a chance to fit in somewhere. The florid, hate-filled face of Mr. Hawthorne faded a little.

  The conversation also faded as people dug into their carne asada and went for seconds. Abel beamed. When the table talk stops, he always figured, the food was good.

  After dinner, the women were busy in the kitchen. They had agreed to be the cleanup crew. Ernesto, Paul, Abel, and David went out to shoot baskets at the hoop on the garage door. Then they sprawled in lawn chairs with chilled sodas.

  “David, Paul told you about Hortencia’s offer, right?” Ernesto asked.

  “Yeah, that was pretty awesome,” David replied.

  “Tía Hortencia is something else,” Ernesto said.

  “It’s good to know there’s something to fall back on if I can’t come up with something on my own,” David remarked. He swallowed hard. The elephant was in the living room: Nobody wanted to mention David’s past. But he figured it was time. “I don’t have a real good résumé, you know.”

  “You can say that again,” Paul laughed.

  Abel shook his head. “You couldn’t have a worse time getting a job than I did, David. I looked and looked. I have a sort of dorky personality, and nobody would hire me. Then I got this job at Elena’s doughnut shop.” Abel frowned. “What a bummer that was.”

  “Yeah,” Paul added. “I worked there too. This crazy lady kept missing money and blamin’ us, especially me. She wanted to do strip searches. She figured I was the most likely thief. She liked Abel, but I was the dude who probably stole the money. She didn’t even know about my brother in the slammer, or my goose woulda really been cooked.”

  David found himself laughing at that. He was at ease with all the people at the table.

  “Uh-oh!” Paul said suddenly. “Here she comes, Miss Mouth.”

  Carmen let the door slam behind her as she came out. “I heard that!” she announced.

  She sat down next to Paul and quickly ran her fingers through his thick, glossy hair. “Good thing this dude is so hot, or I woulda dumped him months ago,” she told everyone. Then she looked at David, “Let your hair grow, David. You’ve got amazing hair like Paul, and girls like it long.”

  David turned to Ernesto. “Man, you got a great family, Ernie. Your parents are so nice. Your grandma and those little girls, they just melt a guy’s heart,” he commented.

  “Thanks,” Ernesto said. “But I didn’t do anything to deserve them. It just happens.”

  “Yep,” Abel agreed. “The old stork drops you on a doorstep. If the wicked witch of the west lives there, you’re screwed. She picks you up and sweeps you into her domain with her bosom.”

  “Abel,” Ernesto scolded, “it’s not that bad with you. Come on.”

  Abel turned to David. “Picture this, dude. You got a brother who is handsome, brilliant, charming, the apple of his adoring mother’s eye. Right now he’s in college earning straight As. He’s got so many chicks coming after him that he has to beat them off with a stick.”

  Abel grinned at everyone and then went on. “Then there’s me. This morning I overheard Mom talking to Dad. Not really talking with him, but at him. Dad might as well be a ventriloquist’s dummy. He moves his lips, and Mom’s voice comes outta his mouth. Anyway, Mom thinks I’m still in bed, so she’s talking freely. She goes, ‘Sal, how can they be brothers? Tomás just texted me. He’s got the highest GPA in his class. And he’s going with this lovely girl whose father is an ambassador to some little country—I forget the name of it.’ ”

  Paul, David, and Ernesto started laughing. Abel continued in a grim voice, even though he was making fun. “And then Mom goes, ‘Poor Abel, barely clinging to a C at Chavez. Then the girl he loved with all his heart and soul just dumped him for a nobody. Claudia wasn’t much to begin with, but at least she was a decent-looking girl. I thought it was a miracle that she found Abel attractive, and then—’ ”

  “Oh, Abel!” Carmen scoffed. “It can’t be that bad. Your mom loves you and that’s worth a lot.”

  “I hear you, man,” Paul chimed in, ignoring Carmen. “But look at it this way. Ten years from now, you’ll be a top chef, raking in the money. The chicks’ll be yowlin’ at your door like kitties after the hottest tom on the fence. And old Tomás’ll be married to this chick whose father is ambassador to Transylvania. Then he’ll find out she’s Dracula’s daughter when she starts nipping at his neck.”

  David started laughing again. He couldn’t remember laughing this hard in years. It felt good to be just hanging out with good friends. It felt good to be accepted.

  Later, when David and Paul were headed home in the pickup, Paul spoke to his brother. “Didn’t I tell you it’d be great, hermano?”

  “Yeah, you did,” David admitted. “Being in prison makes a guy jumpy, nervous. You don’t expect much. When you’ve been locked up with some really bad dudes, you find it hard to believe there are people in the world like them. Like the Sandovals and Abel.”

  When they pulled up to the apartment parking lot on Cardinal Street, two men were just leaving the apartment building. Paul’s happy expression instantly turned venomous. He recognized Freddy Meza and Augie Rojas. The two men recognized Paul and David, and they started walking toward the car.

  “What do you guys want?” Paul yelled in a hostile voice.

  “Augie and me just wondered if our old friend wanted to shoot some pool,” Freddy shouted back.

  “Yeah,” Augie added, “we all were at the Redbird Bar over on Polk. And he told us he was living here since he got out.”

  “Dudes,” Paul snarled savagely, “don’t ever come back here again. Don’t go near my brother, you understand? I’m not kidding. He’s been through a hard time, and he’s puttin’ his life back together again. He doesn’t need rats like you messing with his head? Stay away from him and from here if you want to stay healthy. Y’hear?”

  “Hey, we didn’t mean anything,” Augie responded, holding his hands up as a peace signal. He glanced over at David. “Your brother talkin’ for you too, Davy?”

  David felt humiliated. He nodded and spoke in a low voice. “Yeah.” He looked down at the ground as he spoke.

  “He your parole officer now, Davy?” Freddy asked in a growl. “He callin’ all the shots?”

  “Get lost, or you’ll be sorry you were ever born,” Paul threatened. At that, the two men walked away.

  Paul went into the apartment after David. He threw his keys down on the kitchen table, and they landed with a loud clatter. Paul commented in a sarcastic voice, “I guess I got no right to know you been hangin’ with the creeps. Those are the idiots who got you in trouble in the first place. I guess that’s none of my business.”

  “Paul,” David explained, “after I went looking for a job at Hawthorne’s, they came out of the Redbird Bar. I was passing by, and they started talking. Okay, I went in the bar with them and had a cup of coffee. That’s all.”

  David stood in the living room, facing Paul and his back to the sofa. Paul came at him and gave him a violent shove, knocking him backward onto
the sofa cushions.

  “Tell me the whole friggin’ truth, and tell me now,” Paul demanded.

  “They offered to buy me drinks,” David explained. “I said I’d quit liquor. I had a cup of coffee, and we talked maybe for five minutes. That’s all it was.”

  “You shouldna gone into that bar with them, you fool,” Paul yelled. “Don’t you remember it was Augie Rojas who got you into busting in stores and boosting stuff? You forget about that? He was older than you, and he got you heisting the stuff. Then he sold it. When you got busted, the cops knew you weren’t operatin’ on your own. You got the chance to tell them what that snake did, roping a fool kid into his dirty business. But you saved Augie’s backside and kept your mouth shut.”

  Paul was so angry; he flapped his arms in the air once or twice. Then he stomped around the room in frustration. When he spoke again, he was nearly shouting. “You did hard time because of him. Okay, I can understand you not wantin’ to rat the guy out, though I would have in your place. But after all you been through, after all we been through, you’re stupid enough to go in a bar and sit with those cockroaches. I can’t believe this. Talk to me, man. Make me understand how you could be so stupid. Help me make sense of a guy who hasn’t been out of the slammer for a whole day. Then he goes in a bar to shoot the breeze with a couple of creeps who derailed his whole life.”

  David felt terrible. Getting such a dressing-down from his kid brother made him feel small and humiliated. Shame swept over him like a tidal wave, drowning his self-respect. Finally his voice came, slowly and sadly.

  “I’m sorry, Paul,” he murmured. “That day . . . Mr. Hawthorne, he didn’t just tell me he had no openin’ at the store. He screamed at me. Said I was no good and I’d never be any good. He said I was a criminal. My only hope was to get as far away from the barrio as I could. He said nobody would give me a chance . . . nobody. Then I was walking away from there. I felt like the whole world was starin’ me down.”