The day before. When Cantana and I returned from Mendozas I lay on my bed at the dentists waiting for the soft knock of the silent thief. I decided to say good bye to them both. To warn Javier that I was leaving. Staring at the ceiling as shadows slowly crossed I listened for the smallest sounds on the street. I closed my eyes. A cool breeze stole through the window of the small room and soon I imagined myself lying beside the creek in Northern California. I walked among the prune orchards. Frost weighing on brittle yellowing leaves. A sharp moon in the clear night sky lighted down from the saw blade silhouette of a redwood lined ridge. Through a field of knee high grass I followed a worn path down to the creek. Leaning against a fallen log I watched moonlight dance blue flames across the shallow moving water. Across little black stones until the flames became a string of blue bulbs on the creeks dark surface. I looked ahead into the stand of willow where she came from the shadows of parting green limbs on a low shiny black stage bathed in blue dawn light. Her hair tied back. The red dress. She held her hands before her inviting me to dance.
I woke late in the night. I must have slept through the soft knock. There was no sound from the back room. No light from under the door seeping into the courtyard. I gathered my things into a new canvas bag I had bought several days before. I folded the many sheets of paper covered in pencil smudged poems. The suit I rolled neatly. Before I went I left some money for the dentist on the bed. I wanted to leave some note of thanks but could not find the words I felt were right. I snuck down the inside stairwell and placed my palm flat against the door pushing as I pulled to close it silently behind me. Heading north I followed an alley that ran parallel to the street of Guillermos shop and the salon. It would be several hours before the sun rose over the trees of her square. I was not tired.
It was afternoon when Javier crossed the square with his hands in his pockets to where I sat in the café. He sat in the chair beside mine. Both of us facing her window.
It is a beautiful afternoon. Javier said after a moment.
It is. I answered.
Usually I am just now waking. With my work I stay up very late. I see the sun rise more than I see it set. But there are some days when I wake early in the morning. But usually on those days I am woken by someone. With my work if it is possible I do not like to be awake at that hour.
I understand. I said. The thief and I still had not taken our eyes from her window. I sipped from my coffee and then asked. Were you woken this morning?
I was. He said plainly. Some young men came to visit me. They wanted to know where a friend of mine was.
What did you tell them?
That I did not know.
Did they leave you alone then?
No. They suggested I go and find this friend of ours.
Ours?
Ours.
Señor? The old waiter interrupted Javier.
Café por favor. When the old man had shuffled to the back of the café Javier continued. These friends they told me a story. Apparently my friend was supposed to do something for them but did not. Have you heard this?
There was a boy. I said then in a serious voice. Mendozas son.
There was no chance on the return to Canción?
She is his niece. I said then.
Who? The thief asked.
I raised my chin toward her window.
Everyone thinks she is his mistress. I told him. Otherwise they would not think it right of him to bring her to the fighting.
The old man returned with Javiers coffee.
Thank you señor. The thief said. Once the old man had returned to the counter to read his newspaper Javier brought his chair close to mine. After I left our friends I went to visit this friend of mine that they are looking for. I did know where he was but I told them nothing. I have come to tell him this. This and that he should leave Canción immediately. But this friend of mine was already gone from where I thought he was. The thief continued. You see he left without saying good bye.
We are each given only one good bye. And I am not yet dead.
A line of the poets? Javier asked.
No. I winked. Something of my own.
For the next few days I slept on the concrete floor of the abandoned mine in the hills and sat late into the night in the back pew of the cathedral. Narrowly missing the great crowds for all the masses that week. In the cathedral I convinced myself I was concentrating on the decision. But when I rose from the bench each dawn and walked quickly to her square after waiting for her lamp I could not convince myself that I was not hiding.
In that quiet I hoped the poet would find me. He should have known from our walks that this is where I would be. Each time the massive doors opened my eyes burned some with the light. The ropes from the large chandeliers were tied at a taut angle to hooks in the walls. But the poet never came. Maybe because he knew that is where I would be and to come to me without a weapon or a group of the young men would betray his friendship with Guillermo. Guillermo was not as intelligent as the poet but the poet also did not have the passion Guillermo had. Together they were balanced though. Together they could oppose Cantana from the shadows.
Still I wanted the poets advice.
On Thursday the day of the dinner party in the afternoon I swam to the mouth of the bay and washed on the rocks below where the canoe boys had jumped. In the market that morning I bought a comb and a bar of soap and shaved without a mirror running the ends of my fingers over and over the skin of my face feeling for the last bristles. The tiniest imperfections. In the market I had not gone near to where the poet had his stall but when I found the small pickpocket I gave him a note to give to the poet.
What if he is not there? The small pickpocket asked.
Then go to the salon. I said.
I do not like that other man.
Neither do I. But this is important.
How important? The small pickpocket smiled holding the note behind his back.
If you do not get this to him now. I bent over so that my eyes were level with his. I will break off your arm and beat you over the head with the bloody stump.
And then will you buy me some candy? The boy did not move.
Yes. I smiled. Now run.
On the beach at the south end of the city where I could be alone and unseen I dried standing naked in the wind. I unrolled my suit from my canvas bag and put maybe too much cologne on. I had never worn something like this before and to smell myself in it now and then was very different from how I was used to being. I wondered if I would be able to smell her perfume through it. I considered swimming again to bathe but it was already evening.
Elías stood before the door to Cantanas. He was without his revolver.
I am glad you have come. He said to me then. I did not want to have to kill you. Ramón said that you would come to work for Cantana one day but I did not believe him.
How much did you lose?
Not much. The doorman smiled but looked away from my eyes. Lucky for me I never had to pay him.
Elías held open a small metal door set in two thick wood ones. On the backside of these doors were large iron hinges and several locks that Elías turned as well as a board that lay in a cradle lengthwise across the smaller door to keep it from being pushed in. I stood in this shaded entrance looking up a cobblestone driveway into a spacious courtyard where the limousine had been parked.
Did you bring any weapons? He asked me then.
No.
May I check?
I raised my arms for the doorman.
You have gotten skinny. Elías said. This will not be very good for you in the fighting of dogs my friend.
I am done fighting dogs. I said. That is why I am here.
The doorman nodded. Then as if to reassure me of my decision he said in a soft voice he used I think to convince himself often.
Cantana is a good man to work for my friend. You will see.
The chrome fender of the limousine shone after dust had been washed from the black frame since our dri
ve to Mendozas. Only when Elías and I passed the limousine did I notice a smudge in a lower corner of the windshield. Arched passageways filled with shadows supported a balcony that ran around the inside of the second floor of the compound. The walls were painted a dark yellow and were beautifully offset by a black iron railing with fine swirling details that lined this balcony. Several doors on each of the four sides of the second floor of the courtyard were left open for music and voices to pass through. Above one of these doors stood a young man with a rifle walking on the roof. I followed him until he came to another young man dressed the same in dark clothes also holding a rifle. I was not surprised to see them. In front of each of the doors different colored bougainvillea grew in terra cotta pots set in holders along the railing. The vines of these flowering plants had been trained along the shadowed archways of the first floor. I stood for a moment at the center of this until Elías laughed at my amazement and said.
Follow me.
The inside of the compound was dark and cool. With dark wood walls and a wide staircase. Along a hallway of the second floor we walked silently over an intricate rug. One that in any other house would be hung on the wall. I followed the doorman toward music and voices. I heard a womans laugh behind two doors with smoky windows down the hall. I put my hand to my hair to arrange it without looking. I was more nervous to see her than Cantana.
Elías opened the doors into a large sunken room with a dance floor at the center. A long rectangular banquet table was beautifully set along the back wall where windows opened to a wide view of the Bay of Canción. When my eyes adjusted to the light Cantana was already upon me with his hands up and arms open. A dozen very well dressed and handsome businessmen and their beautiful mistresses decorated the room. One of the mistresses licked her thumb and rubbed lipstick from the shirt collar of a businessman. Those who were dancing stopped and stood across from one another smiling. Cantana was not wearing his sunglasses and his eyes for as much as I had imagined them red and glowing were unremarkable. As he came to me over his shoulder I found her holding a wineglass delicately by the stem standing at the edge of the dance floor talking with several other women. Our eyes met and she smiled. The music to some song had just ended and the musicians were tuning their instruments to begin something new.
My friend. Cantana said as I walked down the two low stairs to shake hands with him. He clasped my shoulder with his gloved hand. I am glad to see that you have come. Then he leaned forward and said. By coming here you have made your decision clear to me?
Yes. I answered.
Good. Then come meet our friends.
With her eyes on me I felt awkward in my suit and uncomfortable dress shoes. My cologne suddenly very strong. My ears felt very warm. Cantana led me through the room from businessman to businessman. I shook hands but wiped my own on my pants to take the sweat from them so that those in the room would not recognize how nervous I was. As we stepped from one businessman to another my eyes met hers through the shoulders and arms and laughing and conversation between us. Cantana introduced me to the businessmen as a friend and although most knew who I was he was careful to never once introduce me as a dog fighter. We were nearing where she stood. Many of the businessmen I had seen at the fights before but never met. Their faces and names still a blur with her in the room. Soft spoken old men with quick eyes. Their skinny mistresses. It took all my concentration to pull my eyes from her to seem courteous when meeting these men.
Finally Cantana led me to the side of the American investor. The American was a tall man almost as tall as myself and with broad shoulders and a healthy frame. His face was very tan and his eyes the clear blue of the bay. He spoke fluent Spanish and the businessmen he spoke with all seemed very fond of him. Only to this man did Cantana mention that I fought dogs and this he said in a whisper.
Well. I look forward to seeing this someday.
No no. Cantana spoke up. He is done with that now. He has come to work for us.
Even better. The American shook my hand.
I could feel her watching while I shook hands with this man. The musicians began a new song. A delicate melody for the mistresses to accept the soft hands of the businessmen. Cantana took my upper arm in his hand and gently led me to her. The women she stood with fell back like unfolding petals of some beautiful flower.
My friend. Cantana said to me reaching for her hand. I would like to introduce you to my lovely niece.
I took her small hand in my own and short of breath I said.
The pleasure is mine.
I held her hand a moment longer than was necessary and Cantana laughed a short laugh at this before clasping me on the shoulder and then calling to everyone for attention.
Let us sit and eat. Cantana said. I did not want to let go of her hand and I felt that she was reluctant to release mine but Cantana ushered us to the table. Lovers who would rather be left to themselves than eat for their own good.
At the banquet table thirteen of us sat man mistress man until Cantana sat at the head of the table but to the right of the American. I sat at the other end of the table. She sat next to Cantana opposite the American. The fading sunlight played in the imperfections of a mother of pearl clasp that held her dark hair above her ears and showed the gentle curve of her neck. Her eyes a softer green than I had seen before. Not jewels. The red dress she wore was the same as the one I had seen her wearing the night of my first fight. My only distraction from her eyes was the businessmen at the end of the table where I sat intently asking about the fighting while their quiet mistresses made eyes at me when I answered. Cantana and the American spoke to no one but each other and those around them except for her seemed to be listening very closely to their conversation. I ate awkwardly with the expensive silverware and felt embarrassed when I looked up chewing to find her eyes on mine smiling. It was strange that Mendoza was not at the table but then he was a trainer and not one of the businessmen. I drank little wine to keep my thoughts clear as to how it was that I was going to kill Cantana and the American. I did not want to do this in front of her but I knew that it had to be done tonight.
At the end of the meal the men sat smoking. Sipping expensive whiskey the American had brought with him specially. Cantanas face seemed empty without the sunglasses. His cheeks red with the warmth of the alcohol and food. I hoped that he and the American were very full because it would take the fight out of them. When the table was cleared Cantana stood and made a short toast. He was careful with his words and I thought he was very drunk.
To the success of the hotel! He said raising his glass. And the many more projects in the future of Canción.
While the businessman spoke she looked from my eyes up to Cantana and then back to me and then with the back of her hand she knocked over her glass so that red wine spilled over the businessmans place setting and some onto the front of his white shirt. Cantana took a short but quick step back from the table. His chin pressed to his chest. The abrupt movement unusual for his calm behavior. I prepared myself to kill him there when he raised his voice at her but he did not. She put her hand to her mouth and smiled the smile of a child. A fine actress herself. The businessman laughed as one of those serving dinner ran to his side with towels to clean the mess.
No no. He said. I am fine.
At his side she took her hand from her mouth and said something to Cantana that I could not hear and he smiled back and took her hand in his own. Then he raised his glass again as we raised ours.
To the success of the hotel! Cantana said and when her eyes met mine she winked. Now if we could only get the sun to set over the bay instead of over the mountains. That would be something!
To this everyone applauded and laughed.
The music picked up again. Several of the businessmen danced with their mistresses but most complained they were too full. One businessman chided another for threatening to steal his mistress for himself as he danced with both women. Resting his swollen cheeks on each of their shoulders one at a time smiling
with his eyes closed. I sat with my hands in my lap quiet when Cantana rose from his seat and came down to my own. The red stain on his shirt. The beauty of her gesture. With his hand on my shoulder he said.
I think now my friend you should ask my niece to dance.
I stood and took a step from my chair. Cantana straightened the corners of my coat and smoothed the wrinkles in the arms. Those who sat around us looked up at this grinning. I looked to her and in her smile she knew how awkward I felt but determined also to be near to her.
Would you like to dance? I asked her with my hand out for her to accept.
Very much. She answered.
Those already on the dance floor made room for us. The song was very nice. Very delicate and slow but with a melody rising steadily. She smelled of cocoa butter and I breathed this deeply into my lungs and it filled my chest with warmth. When she tilted her head back to look up to my face the soft ends of her long hair played gently over my fingers cupping the small of her back.
Look at them! Cantana called. The most beautiful woman in all of Mexico dancing with our greatest dog fighter. We should make them breed.
The men and women looked to one another around us. The American raised his glass. She arched her neck gracefully to the side so that I could lean to hear her whisper into my ear.
The Dog Fighter Page 28