Denice laughed, “Well, it’s working pretty well.”
“God bless that guy.”
“I’ll drink to that.” They raised their cold glasses.
Aside from having your nipples tickled for free, the other advantage of the Marriott was its proximity to the spa casino. A little slice of Indian Reservation smack dab in the center of the Palm Springs shopping district. Even though Charlie and Denice pass on tennis and golf, they do love to gamble.
Walking down Palm Boulevard, Charlie and Denice stopped at Marichano’s Cheri for a scrumptious meal of manicotti, chicken Alfredo, and grilled sausage in red sauce. The wine steward suggested a new aperitif, just in from Sonoma, which was truly memorable. They paid the bill and strolled the boulevard, enjoying the cool mist as they walked along. Listening to live jazz on one block and blues on the next, the noise of traffic and conversation at the small sidewalk tables blended well with the thick desert night air.
After valet parking their behemoth SUV at the casino, Charlie took Denice’s hand. “How’s the shoe?” he asked.
“Humming like a tuning fork.” She let go of his hand and sashayed, rolling her hips. “Ain’t no junk in this trunk.”
“I’m from Missouri, the Show Me state.”
“Later, handsome. But for right now, I’m feeling good about the 10×10×10 machine.”
Charlie pulled out a one-hundred-dollar bill, and came up behind her as she sat down. He slid the bill into the money slot and kissed her neck. He whispered in her ear, “One for the money. Two for the show.”
She looked over her left shoulder and winked. “Three will get me ready.”
Charlie smacked her little butt cheek and said, “Then go cat, go.” He lit her cigarette, then opened a four pack of Swisher Sweet Milds, and extracted one. Biting off the tip, he swirled it around his tongue. Flip-click-flame. “Raise your bet,” Charlie insisted.
He sat down next to her on a Lucky Sevens machine, and Denice raised her bet. Charlie watched as the third seven kept sliding off the pay line.
“Raise it again. Max Bet.”
As lucky as Denice was, Charlie was calculating. He was always aware of the nuance of a machine. Denice maxed her bet. “Should I put in some more money?” she asked.
“Two for the show,” Charlie reached around and slid in another hundred.
“Lower your bet to two bucks. Hit it a couple of times, then Max Bet again.”
“Okay, baby.”
The server came by and asked, “Care for a refreshment?”
“Two Mai Tais, please.”
“California or New York?”
“Cali. Extra cherries.”
A California Mai Tai contains one shot of white rum, one shot of gold rum, one shot of Captain Morgan spiced rum, and one shot of Bacardi 151. Legally, they can only serve you two in a 24-hour period. Charlie and Denice would only have one.
Just as the server was returning with their drink order, Denice’s machine hit with a vengeance: ten times three, red seven on a three-dollar bet. In this casino, that’s $8,000 and some change. Denice did a little happy dance and Charlie crooned, “Go horseshoe. Go horseshoe. Go horseshoe, get your game on, go horseshoe…”
A waitress asked Denice, “Does he always do that?”
“Anything over five grand.”
“How long does it last?”
“It’s like a spasm. He’ll bust out with it all night, until I get him back to the room.”
“Sorry ‘bout that,” the waitress whispered with a grin.
“Oh, don’t be, girlfriend. It’s like cheerleading for the upcoming game.” They both watched for a moment as Charlie moon-walked across the casino carpet.
“The man can dance, I’ll give him that,” the waitress admitted, and then added, “What’s with the horseshoe?”
“Don’t ask.”
Charlie and Denice tipped everyone: the cashier, the paymaster, the manager, and even the security guy that walked them to the valet.
And then immediately left.
The reasons for this were twofold: First, you never want to hang around with $8,000 cash that every loser in the place knows you just won. And second, and more importantly, winning made Denice horny as hell.
-- -- --
“I love this black marble Jacuzzi tub. It’s big enough for two.”
“Be right there,” called Charlie from the other room. “I’m calling down for some Beef Wellington. I need meat.”
“Me, too.”
Charlie hummed a little tune on his way to the tub. “It’s your birthday. Get your game on. Go horseshoe.”
To Palm Springs, from Charlie and Denice (paraphrasing Sammy Davis, Jr.), “You’re a classy cat, baby. Stay groovy. Don’t ever change.”
YEARNING TO BREATHE FREE
Chapter 24
The first contraction began the second the sun went down. Maria doubled over in pain, taking deep breaths. Her husband, Santino, was on the verge of panic.
He said to his wife, “I’m going to kill him.”
“He will show,” she replied, obviously in pain.
“It’s been two days,” he shouted.
“He will show. They said so.” The pain made it very hard for Maria to speak.
“But not in time, mijá, it’s going to rain. The baby’s coming.”
“If the baby comes, it comes. Blessed Mother Mary is with us.”
-- -- --
Charlie and Dee were back from Palm Springs. They returned the Excursion and swung by home base to pick up the K-5, get more clothes, and check messages and mail. All the normal stuff one does after returning home from a trip.
At the last moment Charlie loaded his nail bags and masonry tools into the truck, thinking he’d finish Nea’s kitchen. He did a quick double check to make sure they had enough crap so they wouldn’t need to go to Walmart. Charlie thanked his lucky stars that Dee did not have to stop by that four acre big box, pain-in-the-ass place with forty-seven check out cashiers and zero sales people.
They headed back to Live Oaks fully loaded down with more stuff than they would ever need.
-- -- --
The massive granite boulders piled up behind the country store at Live Oaks provided more than just a place for lizards to sun themselves. At times they provided a hiding place for beings much larger.
“We can’t wait any longer,” Santino pleaded in Spanish from behind the boulders. “We don’t have a choice. The payphone has taken all my change, those putos will not answer. I will not have you giving birth in the mud, in this godforsaken hell hole.”
“Help me up.” His wife, Maria, was very pregnant and very much in labor. He felt helpless as he admired his wife’s strength. They’d just overcome insurmountable odds to come to American soil so that their child would be born an American citizen.
“Can you walk to where those lights are, my love?” asked Santino.
“Slowly, yes,” she weakly replied.
-- -- --
With the drop in temperature, a storm was on the horizon. Dee put another small log on the fire. Brandt engineered a Lego tower next to it while his mother folded clothes.
“Dad, when will the kitchen floor be done? I’m hoping soon. Mom needs to cook us a real meal.”
“Depends. Just pray that I don’t get tile adhesive in my other eye this time,” replied Charlie.
Denice added, “That would be the embodiment of foolish optimism on both accounts.”
Charlie looked up. “Wish in one hand, shit in the other.”
“Good come back, Dad,” Nea shot back sarcastically. “Little ears are in the room,” she said, motioning to Brandt.
Always outnumbered, Charlie thought: Women are such armchair critics.
-
- -- --
“Stop honey! Oh God...Oh God!” Santino felt useless, but still thought he should do something. “Lean on me, I’ll hold you till it passes.”
“Damn! It hurts. Oh, sweet Jesus! It hurts!” screamed Maria.
“We’re almost there.” The trailer was only 50 more yards and the lights inside indicated someone had to be home. But it was up-hill in the freezing mist. The night was still, black as onyx.
When they finally made it to the porch, Maria sat on the steps and her husband knocked on the door.
Inside the trailer Denice jumped with a start. “Are we expecting anyone?”
“Elmo?” asked Brandt.
Nea told him, “I don’t think so, honey.”
“I’ll answer it,” said Charlie. He glanced at the 12-gauge shotgun on the wall above the door. Even though it had never been used it made him feel a little better knowing it was there. He opened the door. “Can I help you?”
Charlie immediately took it all in, like a snapshot in vivid color. A picture of helplessness and panic. The woman looked up at him from her crouched position on the steps, her black hair plastered to her face, mud on her peasant blouse.
Her husband’s eyes burned into Charlie’s conscience, he said something in rapid-fire Spanish. Charlie did not need to understand the words to know this man’s urgent plea. He flung the door open, and jumped down three stairs. “Come in amigo, come in.”
Charlie and Santino helped Maria to her feet. Denice was in the doorway. “Oh my god, sweetie, are you okay?” she said to Maria.
A severe contraction with Maria doubling over in pain was her answer. “Oh my god, Nea, she’s having a baby!”
Nea went into her calm, lucid mode. “Okay, mom, I’ll boil some water, get some towels. Find a blanket. They both knew the hospital was 30 minutes away. And through the checkpoint.
Santino and Charlie lifted Maria up off her feet, brought her in and laid her out on the couch. Dee shut the door and locked it.
Brandt looked up at Maria and said, “Elephant.”
Maria smiled. “Si, mija, elephante.”
Another contraction came and now Santino and Maria were speaking in Spanish rapidly. “How do you say hospital in English?” asked Maria to her husband.
“I don’t know,” cried Santino in frustration.
“We need a birth certificate. Do they have a phone?” cried Maria.
Santino turned to Charlie, and pantomimed by putting his thumb to his ear and his little finger at his mouth.
Charlie nodded in the affirmative. “He needs a phone, babe.” He picked up Dee’s purse, which looked like a small hammock. “Jesus, honey. Where’s the damn phone?”
“Charlie go get Val, he speaks Spanish. I’ll find the phone.”
Within seconds Charlie was out the door, in the K-5, and heading towards Valentino’s trailer.
Back inside Denice handed Santino her cell, he dialed and listened for at least eight rings. “Son of a bitch, they still don’t answer.”
Trying to make Maria comfortable, Nea spread out a blanket on the floor. Along with some pillows.
Charlie sped up to Val’s trailer only to find it dark. No one was home. “Shit. Shit. Shit!”
He jumped back in the K-5 and sped back to the family trailer. Once there, he burst in, blew past Nea, and announced the bad news. “Val’s not home. Now what?”
“Cool your jets Dad, Mom’s on the phone with Ramona right now.”
“Good. At least someone’s using their head. ‘Cuz I sure as hell can’t find mine.”
Maria was on the living room floor, close to the fire, with a quilt underneath her. Brandt was giving her a close-up view of a Lego, while Santino blotted her face and hair with a damp towel.
Dee’s face was twisted into extreme concern while talking on her cell.
“How far along is she?” asked Ramona on the other end of the phone.
“Don’t know,” replied Denice. “She had a contraction about nine minutes ago.”
“And they just showed up at your door?” clarified Ramona in disbelief
“Yes. Bless their hearts. We’re kinda at a loss here, Ramona. I don’t think we have time for a hospital run. Even if we could get them there.”
“Okay. Let me speak to the husband.”
Denice passed the phone to Santino.
“Hello, señor, my name is Ramona,” Ramona said in Spanish. “I understand your wife is having a baby.”
“Si, señora, I am Santino and my wife is Maria. The fucking Anglo assholes left us in the rocks. I did not know what else to do.”
“It’s okay. Don’t worry. You don’t know how lucky you are to have picked the house you’re standing in.”
“I want to go to a hospital. For a record of the birth.”
“I understand, we can handle that for you.”
“What you mean ‘we,’ señora?”
“The Anglos there. They work for me. I work for a familia. You could not be in better hands.”
“You are joking with me?”
“No, señor. Now listen carefully...” Ramona rattled off instructions in Spanish over the phone.
Maria sat up, looked at her abdomen, and shrieked like a banshee.
Charlie’s heart almost stopped, “Holy mother of God,” cried Charlie. “She’ll wake up the dead.” Brandt started to cry, Charlie picked him up.
Denice held Maria’s hand. “Shut up, Charlie.” commanded Denice. To Maria she added, “Breathe. Woosh. Woosh. Breathe. Big breath. All out.”
Maria followed her lead, staring at her mouth. Santino repeated a number and looked gravely at his wife.
“All right, you said your family’s in Fresno,” said Ramona through the phone. “I’ll call and see if I can get through.”
“They know the situation,” replied Santino. “I had no money to call and did not know where I was.”
“Take care of your wife, Santino. Let me speak to the Anglo señora.” Santino handed the phone to Denice. “Can you deliver the baby?” Ramona asked.
“Between Nea and me...yes.”
“Okay. If you call the sheriff or fire department, they will separate the family. I.N.S. will send Santino back immediately, you know my stance on this.”
“We can do it, as long as there are no complications,” reassured Denice. “Nea and Charlie are running Brandt over to Ron and Lily’s right now.”
“I heard him start to cry when she screamed.”
“Yeah. Not good, we don’t need neighbors calling the cops.”
“Okay, listen. The word for quiet is cállate. They’ll understand.”
“Gotcha.”
Ramona continued, “Here’s the plan. I’ll get ahold of the family, explain the situation, and get an address. You do what you have to do, and I’ll call you as soon as I change phones, this one is no good anymore.”
“I’m sorry, hon. I tried Val, I didn’t know what else to do.”
“It’s fine. I’ll call you with the new number, look for it, 303 area code.”
“Okay.”
“God bless us all.” Ramona said.
“You can say that again.”
And she did. Right before she hung up.
-- -- --
“Big Ron. Got a situation,” said Charlie urgently, after pounding on Ron and Lily’s door while holding Brandt.
“Come in. Come in.” Lily took the baby in her arms.
“Hey, good-lookin’!” Lily lit up like a sparkler as she cradled Brandt. “How’s my snoogy woogly, cuddle bear?”
Brandt ate it up. Putting his arms around her neck and with a very deep concerned look, he said, “Elephant. Si. Elephante.”
Charlie gave Ron the condensed version of the whole crazy
situation as he hurried to the blazer. Just before he got in the car he asked, “Can we keep a lid on this?”
“Charlie, we always have,” answered Ron.
“Excuse me?”
“Handle your business, Charlie, We’ll watch Snoogy Woogy.”
“You never cease to amaze me, Ron.”
Ron stared dead into his eyes and said, “The same can be said about you, man.”
The night air was thick with humidity. Drops of moisture accumulated on the windshield. Lights reflected off the shiny pavement. The smell of moist earth and wet leaves hung in the night air. Dee had not locked the door and Charlie burst in. “Brandt’s good, Lily’s ecstatic to have him. And they both know.”
“Know what?” asked Denice.
“What we do we do for a living.”
Denice looked at Charlie with utter panic on her face.
Maria interrupted their moment with another mighty convulsing contraction. And a scream to punctuate it.
“Breathe. Breathe. In through your nose, out through your mouth,” instructed Denice.
Denice had removed Maria’s pants and covered her naked lower torso with a sheet. Charlie paced the floor like a feral cat, while Santino held his wife’s hand, with a look of love and concern on his unshaven, stubbled face.
Nea laid out towels, a nasal bulb, and roach clips to pull double duty as hemostats.
The contractions were coming two minutes apart when there was a knock at the door. Everybody froze. Inside and outside was dead quiet.
Again the knock. Bam! Bam! Bam! Ron’s voice came booming from the porch. “Hey, it’s me. Let me in.”
Charlie opened the door and said, “Man, I thought you might be the sheriff. Having babies is noisy business.”
“I came to see if you needed help.”
“Bring any bourbon?”
“No.”
“Scotch?”
“No.”
“How about a joint. You know...for Nea.”
“No!”
“You’re no help then. Santino and I could use a drink. Nea could probably puff one right about now.”
Jacumba Connection Page 19