Can't Buy Me Love

by Summer Kinard

  “Yes. Perla has been out to measure twice, and Paula’s daughter came yesterday after closing to test the acoustics.”

  “She was singing so late at night?”

  “Apparently opera singers keep late hours.”

  “Listen, Nessa,” Ruben lowered his voice and pulled her aside, “do you think you can win this match?”

  “Provided she plays by the rules, I think it’s a sure thing,” Vanessa grinned and flexed her biceps. “If nothing else, I know that I’m eating more protein. There’s no way Bradley has given up his bagel habit, and Ally won’t eat what’s not free.”

  “I’m not so sure that Ally will play by the rules,” Ruben crossed his arms over his chest and checked that no one was watching. “Listen,” he pointed at Gabi’s notes, “Gabi won’t tell you this, because she is bound by a luchadora code of honor. But if it comes down to losing or cheating, you should cheat. The crowd will be on your side, and they will overlook it.”

  “I’m not going to cheat, Ruben.”

  “I mean, at least hit her with a folding chair, you know?”

  “Or distract the ref while I pull her hair? Come on, Ruben. This is a grudge match. I can’t behave badly and still win with dignity.”

  He sighed, “Very well. But let me tell you this. I have a significant wager at stake in this match. If you lose, you will have to take the loss.”

  Vanessa rolled her eyes and shook her head. She folded the paper and put it in her jeans pocket, then returned to work.

  The next two weeks were a blur of training. Gabi’s teammates pushed Vanessa’s physical limitations, running her through jumps and holds until she mastered them. Vanessa was achy when she arrived at work each night. She was glad that Ruben had hired additional help for her training period. The heavy trays were taxing on her sore muscles.

  When she was not training, Vanessa sewed her costume or sat in on the musical rehearsals when the brewery was closed. Fructus had been completely taken over by the match. Squeak and Perla rehearsed, Gabi coached, Vanessa trained, and Marian and Carla tirelessly promoted the event and catered the rehearsals. Vanessa’s confidence grew in the midst of her friends’ support. Only one question troubled her.

  “Do you think he’ll show?” she asked sleepily after their dress rehearsal. Everything was in place. Her costume was finished. She felt competent to fight. But how would she win Javier back if he did not see the match?

  “Hermana,” Gabi said confidently, looking at Ruben, “he’ll show.”

  “But how do you know?”

  “For one thing, I personally invited him. And Nucleosa personally invited him.”

  Vanessa felt her stomach tighten with anxiety. “Not to suggest that you’re unimportant or that Nucleosa is unimportant—especially since I know that even with you pregnant, y’all could both kick my butt—but why would your invitations make him come?”

  Gabi gave Ruben an “I told you so” look and shrugged.

  “Because the match benefits Javier’s division at the hospital,” Ruben explained.

  “Well, okay, but he could still…” Vanessa began, but Ruben interrupted.

  “And my Tio Albert is the chief.”

  “Wait. You’re making him come?! I don’t know how I feel about forcing him to see me,” Vanessa fretted her hands.

  “Look, Vanessa, it’s not as though he knows it’s you. We’ve kept your identity a secret. He doesn’t even know your stage name,” Ruben was matter of fact.

  Vanessa still felt uneasy, but she nodded slightly. “I guess that I’m just now realizing that all of this production to win him back rests on the fact that we’re tricking him into being there. I didn’t think of that before.”

  “Oh, for God’s sake, stop being so dramatic!” Paula’s daughter Megan said loudly. “It’s not as though you’re trapping him. Just opening his eyes with a little,” she gave a flourish of her arms, “music. A serenade never hurt anybody.”

  “You just got told, Nessa,” Gabi smirked. “An actual drama queen called you out on your drama.”

  “She’s got a point, Sugar,” Marian said sleepily. “Best not to borrow trouble. Sufficient to the day is the evil thereof, and all that,” she yawned widely.

  “It’s time for me to get ‘Sleeping Beauty’ here home,” Carla said. She gathered an empty snack tray and their purses, then smiled at Vanessa over her full arms. “Mija, you’ll do fine. Get some rest. Eat well,” she narrowed her eyes at Vanessa’s neck, “and for God’s sake, wear your santo.”

  “Okay. I’ll calm down,” Carla raised her brows, so Vanessa rushed to add, “and wear my necklace.” She stood and hugged her friends before they dispersed. She walked toward the door with Ruben and Gabi. “I just wish I had a secret weapon, in case things don’t go well.”

  “You do, hermana. You’ve got us.”

  ***

  Unseasonably mild weather swept into town on the afternoon of the match. Thunderstorms chased off the high nineties heat, and a strong tropical breeze simmered the city into the mid eighties. People flocked to downtown, walking between the brewery and chocolate shop and the other hip local businesses in the area. By the time Vanessa slipped away to a back room to dress, the ring arena was packed. Only a handful of reserved seats remained open.

  Vanessa pulled on her costume and mask and waited for Gabi to help her tie the mask in place properly. Getting the mask just right was an acquired skill that the luchadoras had not been able to teach her in the brief period of training. She paced as she waited, loosening her shoulders with a few belly dance moves. She heard the announcer begin to rile up the crowd. A partner match would go on first. She walked to the mirror and checked herself out. Something was missing.

  She dug through her backpack until her hands touched the cool silver chain. Fastening the clasp, her eyes focused on a figure in the mirror behind her.

  “Oh, mija, you look beautiful!” Carla beamed. “And I’m glad you’re wearing your santo. This fight today is right up Raphael’s alley. A match to matchmake. He’ll help you.”

  Vanessa smiled gratefully, then remembered that Carla could not see her face. “Thanks, Mama Carla. Hey, did you see Gabi? I need help fastening my mask.”

  “Right here, hermana. I had to visit the porcelain goddess. Squeak says I need to eat more vitamin B and I’ll feel better.” A smell of peppermints preceded Gabi as she walked toward Vanessa.

  “Sorry you don’t feel well,” Vanessa said nervously. She had been relying on Gabi’s presence ringside, to coach her along if things got tough.

  Gabi sensed her nerves and held up a homemade peanut butter granola bar. “No worries, Nessa. Mom set me up, and I have it on good authority that Ruben will give me as much ginger ale as I want.” She made quick work of tying the mask snugly in place. When it was secure, she turned Vanessa to face her. “Just remember: your friends have your back. You’ll do fine, but even if you don’t, we’re here for you.”

  Somehow Gabi’s need to encourage her worsened Vanessa’s nerves, but she nodded anyway.

  Percy appeared in the door and gave them a thumbs up. “The team match is almost over, and everyone’s in place. Everyone but our star, that is. All ready?” Her confidence lifted Vanessa’s spirits.

  “As ready as may be,” Vanessa said, and she executed a prim turn with her arms out to her sides.

  “Let’s go.”

  The lights on the ring went out, and an eerie arpeggio sounded from the glass harp tucked away in the darkness on the far end of the room. A strong soprano voice sang out, quietly at first, then gaining intensity as the Italian lyrics rushed forward and a banjo strummed beneath her words. A scrolling sign on the other side of the room translated in bright red letters: “How strange, how strange…was this the man my heart painted in hazy colors?… Ah, that love, the heartbeat of the universe!” When Megan came to the line describing love as mysterious and exalted, a spotlight found Vanessa making her way toward the ring, resplendent in a full yellow silk skirt and a red ma
sk embroidered with yellow flowers.

  As Megan sang the final cadenza, declaring love to be the pain and delight of the heart, Vanessa stood still in the center of the ring. The crowd was silent for a few beats after the music ended. Then they erupted into cheers. The announcer appeared alongside Vanessa and introduced her as Banjopera. She felt rather than saw Javier’s shock somewhere in the stands. Would he stay now that he knew she was here?

  Ally was wearing an intentionally shabby-looking outfit made from an old gray leotard and mustard yellow tights, leg warmers, and mask. The mask had a pale grey center section printed to look like old newspapers. She was introduced as the Alley Cat, a bad girl with a jealous vendetta against Banjopera. The crowd booed with good humor, and Ally seemed to swell with the attention.

  The referee stepped into the ring, which was brightly lit after the introductions. Vanessa removed her skirt, revealing a fully ruffled set of floral spandex pantaloons. The crowd roared with laughter and clapped approval at her clever costume. Spirits raised, she turned to step through the ropes, but almost stopped short. The ref was Marcus, the skeezy guy who had intimidated her in the Food Lion stock room. She tried to compose herself with a few deep breaths. They were, after all, in public now. He was no threat.

  Then Marcus winked at Ally. Cold dread rushed to the pit of Vanessa’s stomach. She had read about collaborations between dirty referees and rudos, the bad guys and gals in lucha libre, but she had never anticipated that she would have to face such an obstacle.

  She might have frozen when the bell rang, but for the sight of Percy and Squeak flexing in muscle shirts, slicked back hair, and fake mustaches in her corner. “You can do it, Vanessa!” they shouted in very poor Mexican accents. Their humor had the desired effect. Vanessa met Ally’s assault swiftly, knocking the ruda to the ground with a clothesline.

  Banjopera spun into the air, landing with her knees splayed across the Alley Cat’s chest. The first pin was in Banjopera’s favor. The crowd whooped and cheered. She sashayed warily as she waited for the Alley Cat to right herself. With lightning speed, Banjopera propelled herself off the ropes and into her opponent, sweeping a leg across the Alley Cat’s back. Again, the Cat was down for the count, and again the room roared approval. Banjopera took a moment to shimmy and shake her hips and shoulders, reveling in the high spirits of her swift progress. It only took three pins to win, and she was already almost there. Suddenly the mood turned.

  “Behind you!” shouted many voices.

  A hard blow knocked Banjopera forward, bending her double. She flipped into a standing position and spun in place to meet the Alley Cat’s advance. The Cat rushed at her with a microphone stand, using it like a battering ram.

  “That’s illegal! Boo! No es justo!” the crowd shouted, pointing toward the unlawful move. But the referee seemed strangely interested in chastising an old man who was standing too close on the other side of the ring. His back was turned on the Alley Cat’s bad behavior, and what he did not see could not be punished with disqualification.

  Banjopera jumped to the side at the last moment, causing the Cat to stumble forward through the ropes, dropping her weapon. Percy and Squeak shouted the Cat down as the crowd egged Banjopera on to victory.

  Climbing the corner, Banjopera prepared to leap onto her unbalanced opponent’s back. At the last moment, the referee casually leaned against the ropes, appearing to look at his nails. The resulting stretch of the rope made Banjopera unsteady on her perch, and she came down with a flop in front of the waiting Alley Cat, who pounced on her and began tugging at the ties on the back of her mask. Shouts of fury arose around them, replaced by hisses as the crowd customized their anger to the Cat’s persona. Unmasking an opponent was the ultimate forbidden move.

  Banjopera rolled over, knocking the Cat to the side. She made to stand up, but the referee was standing on her forearm. Yelping with pain, Banjopera knocked the referee off balance as she pulled free, rubbing her sore arm. The referee issued a warning to Banjopera, whose arm extrication had skirted too close to attacking a ref, in his opinion. He sent the women back to their corners to wait for a bell.

  “Is he here?” Vanessa gasped to Percy, who handed her a water bottle.

  “Yes. Is your arm okay?” Percy still wore the mustache, but her expression was grave. Clearly she had not expected the dirty ref, either.

  “Just a bruise. I’ll be fine.”

  But she was not fine. The bell sounded, and the Alley Cat sprang on Banjopera with a rope, tying the favorite to a corner post while the crowd hissed their disapproval. Banjopera struggled to free herself as the referee again appeared interested in a group of men just outside the ring. She managed to escape the ropes, but not before the Cat had head-butted her abdomen a few times.

  Staggering, Banjopera grabbed her stomach, watching the Cat pace around her. Banjopera evaded a leap and almost pinned the ruda again, when the Alley Cat executed another illegal move and kicked her in the groin. Banjopera went down, with the Cat on her shoulders. The referee lost his fascination with the old men and counted the pin as Banjopera struggled to catch her breath. Before she had regained her feet, the Cat struck again. Again, the ref counted the dishonorable pin, amidst a cacophony of hissing and a few coarse words directed to the ruda. The Alley Cat stood to let her opponent up, earning herself a smattering of applause until she held up a small silver medal on a chain.

  “Aw, hell no! She stole the necklace!” Gabi shouted from ringside. Her cry portended a resurgence of hisses.

  Banjopera rose and seemed to feel no pain as she knocked the Cat around the ring, setting her up for a final pin. Then she screamed as a sharp pain shot through her foot. She looked down in time to see a claw-shaped metal spike on the tip of the Alley Cat’s shoe. The Cat kicked high in the air, narrowly missing Banjopera’s mask. The match turned into a war of attrition as Banjopera tried to evade the sharp claw and unbalance her opponent. Shouts of “Cat’s claw!” and “Una garra!” failed to draw the referee’s attention to the dangerous breach of rules.

  Vanessa began to feel desperate. If Ally was willing to hurt her, there was no clear way to win the match. Either she pinned Ally for a third time despite the dirty ref and risk of injury, or Ally would have to leave the ring of her own accord. She shouted toward a blur of mustaches as she skirted the corner—“Help!”

  The Alley Cat saw her advantage and pressed it. Trusting the referee to be distracted, she struck out again and again at Banjopera, shredding several ruffles on the pantaloons and drawing blood in three places. Hisses escalated alongside shouts of hatred toward the Cat, so that she almost did not hear the announcer’s voice call out over the crowd.

  “I repeat: In honor of tonight’s matches, Captain Poncho’s Tacos will give away free tacos to anyone in line three minutes from now!”

  “A taco sounds good right about now!” Banjopera shouted to the Cat, who began to lose momentum in her attacks. “And it’s free!”

  The Cat hesitated for a moment, gazing over Banjopera’s left shoulder to where Gabi messily scarfed a loaded taco just outside the ropes. Banjopera lunged forward, knocking the Cat off balance and escaping the wide swing of the blade. On the far side of the ring, Banjopera turned to face her opponent, bracing for a counterattack from the Cat’s claw. Instead, she saw the ruda’s back.

  Beyond the ropes, dozens of fans crunched tacos along the ringside, filling the air with the peppery smell of seasoned meat, grilled onions, and warm tortillas. The referee tried to no avail to shoo the crowd back. Banjopera paused, stunned and bleeding, as she watched the people press closer, devouring tacos in exaggerated shows of enjoyment. She caught Gabi’s raised eyebrow and snapped back to attention. If she worked quickly, she could make the victory pin.

  Before Banjopera could act, the Alley Cat dropped her clawed foot. Her stomach rumbled. “Free tacos?” she looked at the referee, who shook his head sternly. Then she glared at Banjopera, who held her hand over a freely bleeding cut on her right thigh. Ri
sing up on her toes, the Cat hissed at her opponent and the crowd, then jumped down from the ring and made her way to the food truck line.

  The referee blinked in shock for a long moment, until the crowd’s shouts of joy brought him to his senses. He raised Banjopera’s arm into the air and declared her the victor.

  Vanessa fought contrary waves of emotion. She was elated at the win, relieved to be away from that blade, pissed that Ally had cut her, and hopeful and anxious about Javier’s reaction. As soon as the ref let her arm down, Squeak was at her side, pressing her wounds. Carla joined her, ministering to the cuts on her arm, while Percy and Marian tried to pull Gabi and Ruben away from Marcus, who had gone pale under the string of threats and curses issuing from the two furious persons. Vanessa heard the phrase, “lifetime ban” and smiled slightly.

  “Did he see?” she winced as the women guided her down from the ring.

  “We need to get you to the locker room to stop this bleeding; then we’ll talk.” Squeak said, brooking no refusal.

  As soon as she was taped and bandaged, Vanessa repeated her question. Percy pressed her lips together under the askew mustache. “He left when Ally was chasing you with the knife.”

  Vanessa’s heart sank. “Oh,” she managed, suddenly too numb from exertion and disappointment to cry.

  “But, hey, you won, mija!” Carla said.

  “Despite that klafte and her tochas leker!” Perla entered the room, her face red with anger. On the rare occasions she was riled, she swore in Yiddish. “We are going to celebrate you tonight, Vanessa, whether or not that young man joins us.”

  “I won because she went to get free tacos,” Vanessa moped.

  “You won because you had some badass moves, hermana, and because the crowd loved you. Seriously. I think there’s a place for you on the team, if you want it.” Gabi went to hit Vanessa’s shoulder affectionately, then saw the bandage and stopped short. “Whereas the Alley Cat will never be able to show her face around here again,” she crossed her arms. The strong muscles rippled with her anger. “Oh, and I got this back for you,” she reached into her pocket and held out the Raphael medal on the silver chain.