He will not go to Cantana. The poet saying.
What makes you so positive?
He is not smart enough.
I did not know who to trust but her. And when I asked her lying in my small bed that night she took my face in her hands and kissed my forehead.
I will not leave without you. I said to her.
Come to us after this next fight. Guillermo had said before I left him and the poet at the salon. We want you to kill him sometime after this. But first we need to know when the American investors will be here. There is one in particular we want dead.
Will the Americans come now? I asked. After this attack it will be too dangerous.
They will come to prove that we are nothing to them. Guillermo said.
Flies on the ass of a horse. The poet said.
They will come to prove to Canción that our efforts are unimportant and that nothing will stop the hotel from being built. And this is when we will prove them wrong.
What if I die fighting the dogs? I asked.
You will not. The veteran said. Everyone knows this. This is why we have chosen you.
How am I supposed to get near to Cantana?
You have access to him that we do not. We know that he wants you to work for him. He values your strength.
Your popularity. The poet said.
Approach him about this. Let us know what he knows.
And when you hear of the Americans let us know. The poet said.
I turned to leave.
And dog fighter. The veteran said. Do not think to give us over to Cantana. I will kill you myself.
The night of the dog fighting Ramón and Vargas came to the storehouse smelling of alcohol and smoke. I heard them down the circular staircase talking with Elías and Rodríguez. There were the voices of women also. Much laughing.
They still let you choose? Vargas asked Ramón about the painted sticks as they climbed the stairs. I thought you and Mendoza were wedded.
They keep expecting me to die. Ramón answered. Besides. You may have chosen the teeth tonight.
I do not think so. Mendoza is for you alone.
There was a new fighter in the small room that night. A short man from Monterrey with a large chest and electric blue eyes. Ramón and Vargas made jokes between themselves to scare him. Talking about deaths they had witnessed. Clucking their tongues and shaking their heads but with their eyes on him to see his reaction. But in the small room this man was very calm. I remembered how I was before my first fight and I was very impressed by him. His confidence genuine.
That night I killed my dog easily. Just as Guillermo said I would.
After Ramóns fight he returned to the crowd of yelling men from the small room to stand next to me at the edge of the wood benches where the businessmen sat.
I have the worst luck. He said. I knew that he was sobered some by his fight. He had chosen a dog of Mendozas once again. His fifth in a row. Across from us this trainer sat next to Cantana. Ramón stared at Mendoza and this made the trainer smile with his toothpick in his mouth. I am not sure if Ramón noticed me staring at her sitting on the other side of Cantana because his eyes never came from Mendoza. And Mendozas eyes never moved from him. It was a small game they played.
During this the fighter from Monterrey came into the ring. He was still very calm. Vargas would fight last that night. The young men from the salon took the bets from the yelling men while Javier went from businessman to businessman. Jotting down notes quickly with his sleeves rolled to make them think he was honest. Jumping back and forth but skillfully to the snap of their fingers. Most of the yelling men bet on the dog because it was this fighters first fight. But if he heard them taunting him it did not affect him any. His eyelids did not blink. But for as calm as he was he would never be able to control the ring in which he fought. I knew this. And each time Ramón drew a painted stick he knew this to be true also. The businessmen owned the ring. Chance.
When the leash was undone he proved to be a skilled fighter. He lured and then avoided the dog with great ease. Slashing its side with the claws on several different passes. Eluding the dog in the manner of a matador. He even smiled at one point which gained great favor from the yelling men and brought Ramóns attention from the trainer to the fighting. Ramón at this time was the most colorful of the fighters. Vargas and myself the strength. Other fighters were there merely for the men to wait through until we came into the ring. But this man was better than us all. The dog did not touch him until he slipped on a spot of blood missed by the ragmen. He fell to the ground on his back and his head hit hard on the concrete. He was not awake when the dog locked its jaw around the soft of his neck and tore away the flesh of his throat. Its ears perked. The trainer ran to the dog to pull it off the dead fighter but the dog turned on this man and bit him on the arm. Ragmen tried to distract the dog with blood soaked cloths. Mendoza walked calmly into the crowd. He held a revolver. The yelling men woke suddenly to the sharp gunshot. The ragmen fell back. Mendoza had shot the dog in the head. No one believed that the skill of this fighter was broken by a spot of blood on the floor. The shot had come over us all hard in the ears. Echoes slipping between the blades of the windmills above the rooftops before dying over the bay. I looked back to her. Only when the fighter fell to the ground had our eyes broken apart. And this to see the man die horribly. But now her eyes looked back to mine and I smiled. With all that before us I smiled. And she smiled a tiny smile back.
I went to the cantina beneath the abandoned church that night with Ramón and Vargas. Elías the doorman and the young businessman Rodríguez went with us also. I hoped to encounter Cantana there. Coming down the stone stairs I looked for her on the dance floor among the swirling dresses. I searched for the gleam of Cantanas sunglasses in the crowd. But nothing. Neither of them.
That night Ramón drank very much and talked much of himself. I suspect the dreams of the dogs with sharpened teeth never left him. His eyes at times were very wild and the smiles he gave to the mistresses were more and more sinister. Vargas chided him constantly in his ear about the dogs of Mendoza.
How do you think he sharpens the teeth Ramón? Vargas asked. How do you think he gets them to sit still?
I could tell you but there are ladies at the table. Ramón smiled to no one.
No. Vargas went on. Do they cry when he takes the files to their teeth? Do you think he does it when they are puppies?
I do not care. Ramón forced a laugh.
I hear he is going to begin dripping metal over the teeth and then sharpening the metal. Vargas said taking a sip of his drink to conceal his smile. Several of the businessmen at the rectangular table smiled also. They enjoyed this between the two dog fighters.
I will kill you. Ramón said. But the fugitive only laughed more.
Then Rodríguez went to say something more but Ramón and Vargas both were silent.
You fool. One of the businessmen said when the two dog fighters were not at the table. What do you know of fighting dogs?
I would be the best. Rodríguez answered. At this the businessman only laughed.
Ramón and Vargas always played games with each other in this way. Games that made Rodríguez the fool. The young businessman needed the company of the two dog fighters. And they did not mind so much when Rodríguez bought them drinks and introduced them to new mistresses.
Watching all of this take place in the cantina beneath the church I realized that Vargas was very jealous of the women who loved Ramón. And that Ramón enjoyed the attention he stole from the strength of the fugitive. They worked well together. Businessmen other than Rodríguez bought them many drinks. Everyone wanted to be sitting at the rectangular tables with them. All the most beautiful mistresses were there. Their eyes always on Ramón.
The golden boy. Vargas called him.
But there was something sad about Ramón also. A mysterious quiet. The death of the man from Monterrey I thought maybe made him like this. The sharpened teeth maybe. After some time
Vargas clapped him on the back and said.
Chingón. What is bothering you?
The mistresses wondered the same.
Nothing. Ramón said. Shaking his head slightly.
Seguro? Vargas asked.
Ramóns eyes staring far off at the wet glass rings on the table. I was thinking of my mother. He said simply.
Me too. Vargas laughed.
No. I was. Ramón said. Ignoring the fugitives insult. Those at the table noticed the serious tone of Ramóns voice and were quiet then to listen. When I was a boy my father spent much of his time drinking. Ramóns voice light as if he were going to make a joke of something that was not funny and by doing this try to convince us all that what was bothering him was great indeed but not so great as the troubles we all knew and therefore could understand well ourselves. In fact I never remember my father working. I only remember him working at hitting my mother.
Several businessmen smiled to themselves at this. The mistresses concentrating on the dog fighter.
My mother. Ramón continued. She was a very beautiful woman. My father beat her with his fists or if he was feeling lazy his words. Whore. He called her and spit in her face. But she did nothing. She did not cry. I get my strength from my mother. Your words cut me like glass. She said when my father finished. Like glass. He would mock her.
Ramón then looked at those who listened in the eyes to measure their response before deciding to continue.
Sometimes. He said pouring rum into his glass. I think my father got bored with hitting her so often. And so he got a job. But soon he was bored with this job and went back to hitting her. Ramón shrugged and there was a polite laugh. When my father was bored with hitting her one day he decided to hit me. You are old enough now. He said to me. But he had never hit me before. My mother had never let him. But this one day he came home drunk and she was gone and he said. You are not my son. You are the son of this whore. And then he beat me until he was tired.
Ramón massaged the back of his neck until one of the mistresses began to do it for him. Vargas shifted in his chair but silently to not disrupt the telling.
My mother loved me very much. But when she saw the bruises on my face she did not yell at my father. She did not say anything that would only get her beaten. Instead the next morning she took a small glass bottle outside and wrapped it in a towel. I heard her breaking it over a rock into fine shards while my father snored. I went to see why there was this sound. Go back to sleep. She said to me. But I stood barefoot in the kitchen while she patted out tortillas. Humming to herself softly. Beans boiling on the stove for my father to take to work that day. I sat at the table alone for some time until my father came for this food to take with him to work. He kissed me on the forehead where I sat at the table. His hand on my head. His breath warm from sleep. I am sorry. He said to me. I looked up and his face was tired. Hungover. But I said nothing and my mother she kissed him at the door. When he was gone I checked the towel in the kitchen and it was empty of the glass.
All of the mistresses were wiping their eyes. Ramón sat back and finished his drink looking at no one. When the last of the mistresses excused herself to fix her mascara Vargas waited a moment before clapping softly. And then the businessmen at the table were laughing and trading money from the bets.
Well done. The fugitive laughed.
When you said your words cut like glass. Rodríguez laughed. Counting the money he had won. I think that is what did it.
You do not think that part was too much? Ramón asked.
No. No. The others reassured him.
I was worried. He smiled.
Well done cabrón. Vargas raised his glass. I did not think it would work this time.
Ramóns eyes were alive. Watery from the smoke in the room and glassy from the drinking. They were fragile. Beautiful eyes. I knew that night that Ramón did not have long to live in Canción.
I began visiting the cantina beneath the abandoned church almost every night with the other dog fighters and businessmen. Rodríguez was with us always begging to teach him how to fight and Elías was often there to laugh at him with us. But there was much that was serious also. There was much talk about the attacks. The plane explosion. The businessmen were very worried about the construction of the hotel. Cantana had more men placed there to guard it. A week after the plane was destroyed in the bay two young men were laid out dead on a canvas in the middle of the plaza mayor as a warning. I did not recognize them from the salon. But still word spread that these were the men responsible for the bombing. And this was to be the fate others would find if the attacks continued.
But what disappointed and frustrated me most was that because of the attacks Cantana did not come as often to the cantina.
He is afraid. Rodríguez said.
Smart. Vargas corrected the young businessman.
There was much talk of the attacks among the businessmen in the cantinas. They discussed the hotel and future of Canción. Of the money that was to be made and the best ways to lure tourists. They laughed at the people of Canción. Of how they would have to be trained to serve like the Americans expected. Taught to fold bedsheets and wait for propinas. When the businessmen spoke of Cantana though it was with strained respect. With jealousy in their tone. One very drunk businessman questioned the others wondering if they would ever receive the money they had given Cantana for the construction. The other businessmen hushed this man not wanting him to speak in this way around Ramón. But Ramón was always distracted by the eyes of one of their mistresses. One businessman silenced this drunk by mentioning to him the story of the man in the market with no eyes. The mistresses begged for the story until the quiet of the businessmen made them stop. The drunk blushed with embarrassment. Vargas laughed at all of them.
To the day when roads reach to the end of Baja. One businessman raised his glass.
To the money. Another cried.
To roads that lead to the wallet of Cantana. The drunk slurred. He finished his drink and stood unsteadily. Struggled to put on his jacket.
Be grateful hombre. Someone said to him. You will have your taste too.
Who are you to tell me what? The drunk argued. His chair clattered against the floor. La madre de El Tapado. He slurred grabbing himself. Many in the cantina staring at him now. I am not scared of some story. When he looked at the dancers on the floor he lost focus of his eyes and collapsed. With a mistress sitting on his lap Ramón threw his head back with laughter. The other businessmen joined him. They left the drunk where he lay.
In the conversation of the businessmen I listened for word of the American investors but there was nothing. But more I listened for talk of her whenever they spoke of Cantana. Desperately I listened for a name that would suit her beauty. The thought of these men sharing rooms with her made me angry and jealous. I knew that they sat at tables with her drinking wine and maybe even had admired her dancing. Knew her voice.
Through them. I convinced myself. Through them you will hear her sing.
Rodríguez introduced us to many different mistresses. Ramón was a favorite among them all. The women laughed with his stories. They yielded to his charm. Ramón was not as violent as the fugitive or myself even. Vargas was respectful of most of the businessmen. He knew when to turn his advances toward their women into a laugh. They feared him the most of us all. It was a game the fugitive played with them.
Late at night in the cantina I listened to the stories the businessmen told of the many great fights in the past. Fights between the dog fighters and the dogs and between the dog fighters themselves. The businessmen understood very well that dog fighters were not always finished fighting and the best thing to watch after the fighting of dogs was the dog fighters fighting each other. I drank with them all but never enough to be very drunk. Vargas often joked about fighting me but I only smiled at him quietly. The businessmen loved this. Ramón only shook his head and threatened to have Rodríguez fight Vargas. At this the businessmen laughed. In the voices of the bus
inessmen trying to get Ramón and Vargas and me to beat one another I heard my grandfathers whisper. But now it did not have power over me.
One night a skinny businessman with pockmarks in his face leaned toward me and said.
There are always women to be impressed. You should destroy your handsome friend there in front of them. Win them from him.
I looked this man up and down. Some of the other businessmen heard him say this and waited for my reaction. Everyone knew me to be quiet.
Or. I said calmly. I could destroy you and save them from your breath.
The businessmen broke into laughter. One draped an arm over my shoulder. The weight of his rings on my back made me uncomfortable. He held his drink up before me and the others who heard me did the same. I was angry that I had not seen her after spending so much time with these men and I did not enjoy their company so I took the cup before me and emptied it to their applause. Ramón laughed. Vargas grinned.
But Ramón was not respectful of certain businessmen. He took advantage of his friendship with Cantana often. Late one night when he was very drunk Ramón left the cantina beneath the abandoned church with a favorite mistress of one of these businessmen. The businessman struggled with a small knife wanting to stab Ramón but Vargas and I held his arms easily stopping him.
We watched as Ramón climbed the stairs. Helping the mistress while also kissing her neck and looking back at the angry man. The shadows of Ramón and this woman flickered like flames upon the rock wall.
You will only fight the dogs of Mendoza! The businessman called after him.
Because I am the best! Ramón turned back and yelled.
The cantina beneath the church was quiet for a moment. Then the laugh of the mistress in the dark hallway leaving broke the businessman even more.
I left the cantina not long after this. Just before the sun lightened the dark of the blue sea. The air I walked into was cool. The man at the gate said.
Buenos días.
I looked to the sky. Disappointed.
It was more difficult than I thought encountering Cantana. I began to worry that the old men would not believe me. I went regularly to Guillermo at the salon to report what I learned. But this was nothing.
The Dog Fighter Page 19