Gunmetal Black

by Daniel Serrano

  When we stood by the bar to drink again, I kissed her, nothing too aggressive, but Xochitl slid her tongue across mine softly and I pulled her toward me by the small of her back. This time I wiped the lipstick off my own mouth.

  “Deliciosa.”

  And that’s how the night went: drinking, dancing, talking, laughing, holding hands, kissing, making eyes at each other, eating tostones and coconut shrimp by the bar. By the time I walked her to the car, I was so wound up, I could have picked Xochitl up and carried her up the four flights to my room.

  But it was too soon for that.

  We leaned against her Lexus, me pressed up against her, letting her feel me, holding her by the back of her head, kissing like teenagers getting their first shot. I moved to her neck and tasted her perfume. Xochitl tilted her head back and moved her hands slowly down along my back to my butt. I pressed into her.

  Xochitl was at a near moan. “We better stop,” she said.

  I kissed her. “You sure?”

  She kissed me back. “Yes.” She kissed me again. “Let’s stop before we go too far.” She kissed me a third time, but grabbed both of my hands with both of hers and held them between us.

  I licked my lips and tasted her. “Maybe you’re right. If we go another minute, you won’t be able to hold back.”

  Xochitl raised both eyebrows like, No doubt about it.

  “You all right to drive?”

  “I’m fine. I’ll be a little distracted, but I’ll survive.”

  I told her to take a cold shower.

  “I need something, that’s for sure.”

  She got behind the wheel and lowered the window.

  I leaned in. “Call me when you get home safe.”

  “I will.”

  “When am I gonna see you again, Xoch?”

  She popped a stick of gum in her mouth and looked up at me. “You like to bowl?”

  Xochitl and I had fun at Diversey River Bowl, near Western, knocking over pins and flopping the occasional gutter ball. She had signed up for a league at her job and figured she wanted to practice before letting her colleagues see that she wasn’t very good.

  “They say networking is important. I figure this’ll be a good opportunity to get to know some of the lawyers away from the office.”

  “I’m sure they’ll like that. Maybe you shouldn’t wear such tight jeans on game day. They ain’t letting you get a full extension.”

  Xochitl popped a thigh at me. “They look cute with these bowling shoes, though, right?”

  I winked and watched her line up, approach, and send the pink bowling ball down the lane real slow.

  “A little weak there, Xoch. Keep practicing. I’ll grab us something to eat.”

  I bought a couple of slices of pizza and soda. When I walked back, I saw Coltrane and Johnson standing next to Xochitl.

  “Friends of yours?”

  I put the food down. “What do you want?”

  Coltrane sucked his teeth. “How you been, Eddie? Looks like you been livin’ a life of leisure since we last met. Fancy restaurants. Hangin’ out in bars. How come you don’t invite nobody?”

  Johnson picked up my bowling ball and stepped onto our lane. “Even met you a little señorita. This cat works fast.”

  “Watch your mouth, Johnson.”

  He ignored me, focused, and sent my ball flying on a curve toward the number one pin, landing a strike on his first roll.

  Coltrane sat down. “Johnson here’s the star of our detective union.”

  “This year we’re gonna win that trophy.” Johnson grabbed my slice of pizza and took a bite. He dropped it on the plate. “Ooh, that’s hot.” He gulped my soda.

  Xochitl looked very annoyed. “You guys want this lane? We can leave.”

  They ignored her. She sat back down and looked at me.

  I said, “You guys wanna take a walk and talk about it?”

  My ball came back up. Johnson said, “I’m just getting warmed up.” He lined up and looked over at Coltrane. “Don’t take this the wrong way, partner, but I love this shit. Using this here heavy black ball to knock over them little white pins? Heaven. No offense.”

  “None taken.”

  Johson bowled another strike. He bit off another piece of my slice.

  Coltrane said, “See you got a phone now, huh, Santiago.”

  “Is that a crime?”

  “I bet you’re makin’ a lotta coochie-coo with this one.”

  Xochitl said, “Leave me out of your conversation.” She grabbed her purse and looked at me. “I’m going to the ladies’ room.”

  Coltrane and Johnson both stared at her ass as she walked away.

  Coltrane looked at me. “Some like ’em feisty, I guess.”

  “Why don’t you get to your point?”

  “You got anything to report, Santiago?”

  “Maybe. First we gotta talk about my forty thousand.”

  Johnson downed more of my soda and burped. “Man, you’s a fuckin’ one-trick pony.”

  Coltrane said, “Really, Santiago, you talk like you’re the one driving the bus.”

  “Ain’t I? Right now I’m the only one who knows every detail about Pelón’s big score.”

  They perked up.

  “That’s right. I got the time, the place, the method. The dollar amount he expects to recoup.”

  Coltrane said, “Big money?”

  “Your fuckin’ pensions’ll seem like pigeonshit.”

  Coltrane nodded. “And what makes you think you’re my only source on this?”

  “Look at how you’re dressed. If you had a direct link into a whale this big? You wouldn’t waste your time with me, Coltrane, let’s face it.”

  Johnson said, “Ain’t you logical.” He grabbed my ball again and sent it down the lane. This time he left two pins.

  “Fuck!”

  The machinery wiped the fallen pins and reset the two that remained.

  Coltrane whistled. “Seven-ten split, partner. The hard one.” He looked at me. “So what’s this big deal then? And when’s it going down?”

  “Get real.”

  “Are you really that inside?”

  “I’m practically Pelón’s gynecologist. Seen blueprints and everything.”

  “Do tell.” Coltrane got up and dried his hand over the fan by where the ball came out. “But if this haul’s so scary big, how come you’re looking to trade for a measly forty thou?”

  “Because that money you’re holding belongs to me. I earned it. I saved it. And besides, I don’t wanna do business with Pelón. I’m not into what he’s into. It’s too high risk. You, on the other hand, got no qualms, right? Let Pelón steal the jackpot, then steal it from him with no resistance.”

  Johnson shook his head. “Boy, you flip the script, and spin crap from gold. You think a jive-ass story like that’s gonna shake two veterans?”

  I brushed my hand across my mouth. “All’s I’m telling you is I want my money back. Any scheme you come up with that don’t include returning my cash falls into the don’t-give-a-shit pile.”

  Johnson snapped his neck toward me. “I oughta slide your ass down this lane and knock these pins over with your forehead.”

  “Try it.”

  Coltrane said, “Relax, both of you.”

  My ball came back and this time Coltrane took it. He looked at me as if he might consider my offer. But then he shook his head. “No deal, Santiago. I ain’t got nothin’ I wanna trade. You’re gonna serve up the goods to me for one simple reason: because it’s the right thing to do.”

  “You’re bugging.”

  “Maybe. Just keep reading that Bible. Now watch this.”

  Coltrane aimed and flung the bowling ball with such precision that it rode the gutter’s edge like it should’ve fallen in, but instead knocked the seven pin on the outside so that it flew across the frame and smashed the ten pin into the wall. Coltrane pumped his fist and high-fived Johnson. “Yeah, baby!”

  Johnson said, “I’m telli
ng you, Herman, we’re takin’ that trophy this year.”

  Johnson dropped what was left of my pizza slice and killed my soda.

  Coltrane pointed at me. “We’ll call you.”

  “I never gave you my number.”

  “We already have it.”

  They walked off.

  Xochitl came back from the ladies’ room. “Who were those assholes?”

  “My probation officers. They’re kind of upset I been ditching them.”

  “You’re still on probation?”

  “Sort of.”

  Xochitl was smart enough to know that wasn’t quite right, but secure enough to not need all the answers.

  “Sorry, Xochitl. You wanna leave?”

  “No.” She bit her slice and picked up her pink ball. “We came here to do our own thing, right?”

  CHAPTER 20:

  AUTUMN LEAVES

  Xochitl and I hiked along a trail through the woods. I looked up at the canopy of leaves. Two and a half seasons’ worth of sun, wind, and rain had polished most into colorful autumn gems. Ahead of me, Xochitl walked in gym shoes, comfortable-looking jeans, and a denim jacket. Birds cooed and fluttered and the trees swayed in the breeze.

  “Women at my office go to the spa, and I like that too. But I always feel like a nice hike slows the clock a little.”

  “Feels like we’re not even in the city,” I said.

  Xochitl looked back at me. “Are you all right, Eddie? You seem a little low. Even in the car.”

  I was distracted by the fact that I still saw no solution to my missing forty thousand, but I smiled to let Xochitl know that I liked her attention and didn’t need to talk. She turned to watch her step.

  “When I was fifteen,” she said, “I visited my grandparents in México. It’s all mountains. You go away from the town and in a minute it’s a little like this, but steep, up and down. I used to go for long walks.”

  “Ever get lost?”

  “There was usually somebody with us. Sometimes I went alone. I felt so comfortable.”

  We came to a bend in the trail, where it turned to hug a slow-moving brook. There was a small clearing and a large tree that had fallen on its side. Xochitl put one foot on it, put down her backpack, pulled two water bottles, and tossed me one.

  “How ’bout you? Travel much?”

  “Oh yeah, all over the world, Xoch.”

  “Seriously. Ever left the Midwest?”

  I took a sip of water. “I went to the Big Apple, once. As a kid.”

  “Family trip?”

  “Sort of.”

  Xochitl sat on the fallen tree. “Tell me.”

  I sipped my water. “It was unexpected. One day in the fourth grade, I’m in class, daydreaming. Suddenly, I see my father’s face in the classroom door. He flashes this huge smile, which he used just on me, I think. All teeth. Anyway, he gets real grim, comes in, tells the teacher he’s sorry, it’s a family emergency, but we gotta run. I’m gonna be out for a couple of days.”

  “What happened?”

  “He wanted me to play hooky with him. So I grab my bag and he walks me out with his arm around me, like he’s prepping me for the bad news. We get outside and parked out front is a tricked-out ’72 Camaro Super Sport. Red with bright orange flames. Spoiler in the back, mag wheels.”

  “Your father just bought it?”

  “He had it. He holds up the keys. ‘Wanna ride to New York?’ I’m like, ‘Right now?’ He looks back at the school. ‘Unless you’d rather go back.’ I’m like, ‘Hell no.’ We jump in. The car’s got just one eight-track: Rumours by Fleetwood Mac. I go, ‘Pop, whose car?’ He pretends not to hear. When I asked if Mom was coming, he tells me, ‘I left her a note.’ ”

  “Communication is the key,” said Xochitl, smiling.

  “I wouldn’t know. We gassed up in Indiana. Ate in Ohio. Whenever I got out, I looked at the car. It got more beautiful every time. Slicker. More muscular. We hit mountains in Pennsylvania, with the sun going down behind us, and everything ahead of us bronze. The trees, the road, the clouds, the tops of the other mountains.”

  “I love the light like that.”

  “Me too.”

  I made eye contact with Xochitl. She smiled and didn’t pull away.

  I bent and picked up a smooth stone. “Whenever we couldn’t get the radio, I slipped in the eight-track. My dad liked ‘The Chain.’ I dug another song, ‘You Make Loving Fun.’ ”

  “As a fourth grader?”

  “I didn’t know what it meant. Maybe I still don’t. I just liked the way it sounded. But by Pennsylvania, we both dug ‘Go Your Own Way.’ We couldn’t get enough. He made me play it three times in a row. Anyway, at one point he pulls into a rest area. ‘Wait outside the door.’ I tell him, ‘I wanna listen to the rest of the song. I’m big.’ He looked at me for a second. He leaves the keys in the ignition and gets out. Then he leans in. ‘Eddie, listen. Do not open the trunk. Whatever you do, don’t look inside. You got me?’ ”

  Xochitl widened her eyes. “Let me guess. As soon as he goes inside. . .”

  “Believe it or not, no. I was afraid. And I didn’t want him to catch me.”

  “What do you think was in there?”

  “Something a ten-year-old should never look at.”

  “Did that make you nervous?”

  “Yeah. But then my dad came back, he winked, and all that melted. It was late when we crossed into New York. My dad told me about his life there, when he first came from PR at, like, twelve.”

  “Did you stay with family?”

  “We drove to the beach.”

  “The beach?”

  “My father shuts the engine. ‘Let’s take a nap.’ ”

  “In the car?”

  “Yup. When I woke up, the sun was slipping over the horizon. My father was outside, on the sand, by the water’s edge, smoking and staring at the ocean. I walked up to him. He looked down and put his arm around me. ‘I used to swim as a boy in Arecibo.’ He nodded at the water. ‘Taste it,’ he tells me. I smiled, bent, stuck my fingers in, then stuck them in my mouth. I gagged and said, ‘Sala’o.’ My father laughed and threw his cigarette in the sand. ‘That’s where we come from.’ ”

  Xochitl wrapped her arms around her knees. “He sounds a little philosophical.”

  “Not to write an essay about it, but yeah, a little. We found a bodega and bought one serving of eggs, bacon, and toast with two forks. My father divided everything in half, and we dug in. ‘That Camaro loves gas,’ he said. But then he winked. ‘I love this, Eddie. You and me eating out of the same plate.’ ”

  “Cute.”

  I threw the stone I had been playing with across the brook. It skipped along the surface and made it to the other side.

  “We ended up in Brooklyn. My father found an empty parking lot and let me drive the Camaro in circles.”

  “How old were you?”

  “I could barely reach the pedals. After that, we drove to a garage. My father let me out across the street and up the block a little. He tells me, ‘Wait here. I don’t care what you hear, don’t go near that garage.’ He removed his watch and gave it to me. ‘If I’m not back in fifteen minutes, find a cop and tell him that your father went inside and never came out. Don’t go in with them. Tell them to come with their guns. You got that?’ I repeated it. ‘Good. Other than that, don’t move for fifteen minutes.’ ”

  Xochitl said, “Oh, my God. I would have been trembling.”

  “I was scared, but somehow I also knew my dad would come back. He drove up to the door, honked the clave pattern, and the door rose. He drove that smoking hot Camaro inside and the door came down. I checked the watch to set the time, but my father came out like ten minutes later, walking, light on his feet.”

  “Were you sad about the car?”

  “I expected it. My father shows me a thick roll of hundreds. He peels the top one for me. ‘You my little sidekick.’ ”

  “A hundred was a hell of a lot of money back then.�
��

  “For a kid? Candy bars cost a quarter. Anyway, we rode the train to Coney Island. It was overcast, and we were practically the only ones out there. My father goes on this ride. The Hammer. Basically it just flipped you. I was afraid. My old man says, ‘Wait down here,’ and gets on without me. He’s the only one on it. The thing spins him, flips him. I can hear him yell and laugh and scream my name when it flies past. At one point the ride freezes at the top, my father’s upside down. Coins rain out of his pockets, through the metal cage, to the pavement beneath the machine. I waited for the ride to stop, ’cause I didn’t want it to swing down at me. But then I ran for the coins.”

  “You were getting paid left and right that day.”

  I paused to look around the woods. I don’t know what I expected to see. The trees did not move. And Xochitl listened. I wondered whether I should tell her the rest. I looked her in the eye again. She seemed wide open.

  “So when the ride stops, I run over to pick up coins. My dad comes down the steps with that pícaro smile. Hair’s messed up, shirt’s all crooked. He sees me grabbing. ‘Finders, keepers!’ He nods. I see another quarter and go for it. But then a few feet away, I see a tiny plastic bag with brown powder in it. Then another. I reach for the first bag, and suddenly, my dad’s like, ‘Eddie, no!’ He jumps down the metal steps and grabs my arm, I mean really squeezes it. He got in my face and pointed at the Baggie. ‘Never touch that! You hear me?’ He shook me. I noticed what looked like a rubber band half-hanging out of his pocket. ‘Don’t never let me see you touch that!’ ”

  Xochitl made a sad face. “Did you cry?”

  “That was one of only two times I ever saw real sadness in my father’s eyes. He picked up the Baggies and put them in his pocket. We rode the train to the airport in silence. When we got to our stop, he looked up and down the platform and went in a public toilet by himself again.”

  “With you right with him?”