by Daniel Sada
Nose to grindstone! And … what about a raise? A small one. An all-too-subtle percentage that—damn!: crumbs. Well, now you have him: Demetrio was unremitting: his face was getting harder, as wealthy people’s faces do: handsome, interesting, self-sufficient, his two eyebrows like two triumphal arches and his mouth squeezed more tightly into a ball: signs of ceaseless success, a form of disdain, an attitude of thinking of himself as the cat’s meow. Much later there would be, let us call it, a “visualization” of the employees’ merits: those! tush!, so honorable. And, from a different angle, since things were going so swimmingly—money by the cartload, a gift from God, rolling in the dough, day in and day out—he foresaw the possibility of investing in new businesses, maybe even citified ones, the urban brought to the small town, but which ones, which one: a dive—exciting! unique! that space envisaged so long ago. Oh, out with it: a cathouse with beautiful whores, good lighting, and rooms in the back. Ambition. Like the ones in Oaxaca: good old Presunción and the other, La Entretenida; also, with guards, but not aggressive ones: everything tending toward discretion, not like in Torreón, where he came within a foot of losing his life; no, not that, rather a joint that one would want to go to, to patronize … Oh, still a hazy dream. Though …
If he talked to the mayor. Invest fifty-fifty …
Partners worthy of something supersalacious … Still limping slightly, Demetrio made his way to the town hall. By hook or by crook he would get an appointment with Píndaro Macías. And he did. There to lay out his plans, dotting all the dirty i’s and crossing all the t’s. The mayor listened attentively to his diligent description of this seedy world. So many details, but the mayor, smiling stintingly, said, “No!”
Emphatically, it would seem. The “no” reverberated loudly.
Because Parras was not ready for such a radical change. People would rise up, first against him, then against Demetrio.
But even such well-established perversity: no!
Parras would have to grow to triple or quadruple its size for such a place not to be seen in a bad light.
And another stream of reasons for the rejection, though Demetrio would also be interested in starting up some other kind of business. More corrupt, less corrupt … Let’s talk … Another time …
Demetrio left the mayor’s office with a thunderous suite of ideas. Going into business with this mayor, hmm, better to become his good friend. Tactics piled on top of tactics. Perfidious and subtle utilization, and, of course, after, after …
Another meeting—when?
A difficult, because delicate, step.
Now it’s time to shrink time, for good news was going to flow like a wafting breeze (a weightless one), which is to say, nothing terrible was happening that would delay the multiple manifestations of a thousand and one simple situations. Nothing black, nor murky nor gray, hence whiteness, if you like, in all that he had to suffer or surfeit, made everything, therefore, turn out like never before. The mountains of money at the pool hall; for better or for worse each week the cash register filled to overflowing, and at home such remarkable pleasure: each day harmony more deeply entrenched, like a rosy and benevolent blob, something as normal as the sun shining large, or the sky clearing all about, or sweet aromas rising from who-knows-where, or when everything we see inspires us.
And the days passed with no apparent sadness: spring—how joyous!, and summer—how peaceful! Add to that the truth about accretion: the charm of knowing that money makes even the most unpleasant things charming and that the servants Amalia and María Fulgencia, as well as the employees Ángel and Aníbal, had not lodged a single complaint for months, not the slightest, nothing, how fortunate, confound it. We’re doing very well, Demetrio commented to his mother with a surfeit of cynicism, and they said, cheers! clinking together their mugs filled with café con leche. It is perhaps fitting here to say that at that time Mayor Píndaro Macías occasionally frequented the pool hall, he played his games, and he lost over and again, but his leisure time—how delightful! He was not good at billiards because he had little practice hitting the ball; just consider all his responsibilities as municipal leader … completely overburdened. Nevertheless, the frequency increased, not so much to play, but rather … What if he managed to do some crooked business with … ? Persuasion one small step at a time, persuasion recognized immediately by the successful man, then later ascertained, when the mayor told the big guy (straight out) that he wanted to talk to him in a relaxed and leisurely fashion, in his office, alone, about business, tantalizing demons, more and more suspect. Demetrio went out of inertia and listlessly listened to the lengthy proposals. Improvised twists and always unprecedented expectations for business deals that were not totally transparent. Surely he tired of listening, but as soon as he had a chance to respond, he was arrogant and almost smug when he exclaimed:
“I’d like to do business with you, but only after I get married. My wedding will be on the first Saturday in November. I will be gone from Parras for around three weeks, so we should talk around the beginning of 1950.”
“Where will you have your wedding?”
“In Sacramento, Coahuila. A much smaller town than Parras, very close to Monclova. It will be a simple affair. But if you’d like to come, please …”
“No, no, I just wanted to know where the wedding will be. No, thank you, I cannot go, I don’t have time.”
“Anyway, I want you to know I’m interested in working with you, but …”
“That’s fine, it’s not far off.”
“I just want to say that you can go to the pool hall whenever you like. I will leave instructions that you not be charged.”
“Well, well. Thank you!”
“If that’s all, and with your permission, I will take my leave.”
Office intrigue upon his departure: spying bureaucrats watching Demetrio’s every move (not limping, luckily). They thought this alliance with the mayor quite peculiar. His second time there and—how many more? And if ghoulish plans were afoot—how bad? Let’s end this with a less assonant dread. Disparate, rough hewn, something that was beginning to get tangled in the shadows, little by little, imbroglios of maggoty folk, nothing more. Because Demetrio’s reputation was already the subject of much comment. His business, the pool hall, it was all like some new and grandiose wave. A local harm evocative of My Lord Jesus or Sainted Virgin, and growing and voluminous and what kind of business was it anyway—would he close it? Did he and the mayor make a deal—or not? or was it an arduous diatribe—or what?
Better to say that the date for mother and son to go to Sacramento was approaching. For the first time they would drive in the blue pickup belonging to … They would arrive with pomp, surely. Airs, more airs of unbridled solvency. In that same vehicle the newlyweds would go on their honeymoon to Piedras Negras. An event that had already taken on a well-defined hue. Nevertheless, doubt lingered in the background, for no matter how honest and competent the two servants and the two employees were, it was risky to turn home and pool hall over to them, trust blindly, as well as give them money for … That’s why Demetrio took precautions and paid the mayor a visit (unannounced). A favor. Whatever it would cost—their first business deal? Friendship comes first—doesn’t it? That he hire eight policemen, four at each site, in shifts, to guard both properties while they were gone. Moreover: what was the daily rate? Calculations. Pencil to paper. The mayor had fun adding and subtracting, then erasing, then he wrote anew with greater resolve, and then, finally, the total, eloquence itself: advance payment of the full amount for at least three weeks, to avoid misunderstandings. The following day the money delivered. It wasn’t so much. But yes: men in uniform would keep watch night and day over the appointed places … And to inform the honest employees about the surveillance—understandable!? It was the prudent thing to do, given what had happened to them.
The date was approaching.
The jitters …
Happiness conceived of as the painstaking paring of an exquisite i
dea.
On the way through Monclova, Demetrio had to buy a black suit …
For now: they readied the trousseau: so much spread out on the truck bed, such elaborate packing, and yes: mother and son left one week ahead of time. Doña Telma, intentionally annoying, pressured the big guy to settle whatever he had to settle and …
Rattling and, finally, happy trails.
41
The roll of money glowed, stuffed as it was into a barely visible cranny; high, separate: the roll still whole, and almost magnetic, just to look at; like twisted rays: what an imagination—could that be? It was tempting to touch the bill-stuffed projection. A brush, an inadvertent stroke from Renata, who stretched out her arm, a surmise, then finally the arrival of some certainty when she realized that it would cover even those details one thinks of only after the initial accounting … The unexpected minutiae remain for the end, and can often be of considerable expense.
And one day among many Renata took hold of the roll. The spending would now begin. We must also say that little by little, over the course of a few months, relatives living in Sacramento had been approaching Doña Luisa and Renata. They knew about the upcoming event (full speed ahead) and, of course, more than enough helping hands were tendered. Also obliging were some clients who offered any help that might be needed in good faith. And the roll: come on!: time to take some practical steps. What would the first one be? Knowing she was facing a mountain of quite simple issues, let’s mention three that stand out: first the food, quite a predicament, because you had to figure on the slaughter of a lamb and a pig, for example, though it would also be a good idea to ask the obvious question: who would the butcher be? Then deciding on the first course: tomato pasta soup or celery soup; then dessert: what sweets would they have—nothing too expensive? Second: decorating the church: with what? How about carnations, lilies, or gardenias, or some other kind of flower, and the question: where to get that, or this, or something else even more improbable? and also—who would do it? And third: the wedding dress: which beauteous garment would do?, what trim and whether more or less of it, and the price: which shop in Monclova: hence the need to go, and come: exhausting: carrying an enormous box. This task was Renata’s alone, as opposed to all the others, which could be assigned to third parties. Other issues would crop up in dribs and drabs. Nevertheless, we see that once she had the roll in her hands, Renata knew that the first order of business should be the purchase of the wedding dress, so she extracted a hefty number of bills and put them in a safe bag. The next step was to go to Monclova by bus, spend the night in a hotel, not an expensive one, but not a very cheap one, either. It would take her more than one day to pick a dress.
We understand what a nuisance it was to make the trip, although, on the other hand, the gem she bought justified the sweat. When she arrived home she wanted to spread the dress out on the bed. It took her mother half an hour to give her approval, though when she did so, ah, she began to cry like a baby. Let’s understand her, let’s try to understand her …
42
Renata’s sisters were arriving, four women (four blessings) and of course each one accompanied by her respective hale husband. Different travel plans, hence the anticipation, the suspense, the diurnal and nocturnal appearances, and—what a scene!, beds for all, so many bedrooms, even some left over, though don’t think for a minute … Then all the usual rushing about; endless errands, not only the fuss and bother for the wedding feast, but also three meals a day. The more people in the house, the greater the expense: the unforeseen, it turns out, as something tacit. Each sister gave the impression of being a problem-solving phoenix, better to put it in no uncertain terms, for that’s how things were, the adjectives also suited their husbands. Let’s take some examples: they had to gather fifteen square tables and, let’s say, a total of some sixty chairs. The logical question was where to get the tables … let’s see … Relatives lent one or two, some customers also, one by one, or two by two, or mix and match, until reaching the magic aforementioned count; next was to count the number of arms in action, for whatever there was, there was: lots!, and thus they spent three days gathering the fifteen tables, placing them in one row of five, then two other rows of the same number: let’s imagine, then, and from a bird’s eye view, the resulting square bracket on the patio. A square bracket exposed to the wildest winds, which didn’t matter, but rain—in November?, hopefully it wouldn’t rain, not even the merest touch of a squall. Always a risk, though, and—done! … The paradox was for the water in the sky to remain there, as if the sky itself were waiting for the wedding to release its load a few hours thereafter. And the lovely thing is that it turned out exactly as the mother and daughter, as well as the four sisters and their husbands, thought it would: Don’t rain. Please don’t rain, that was the prayer under their breath, and no, no, really, no. The request did not depend on the appearance of a saint, it was a secular plea and that was the odd thing. Aha! the longed-for event was coming to pass. And now let’s turn to the china, a colossal feat of borrowing from so many sources. You can include anybody you like, as long as they lived in Sacramento and as long as they offered their help. The result was necessarily a hodgepodge, many kinds of forks, spoons, knives, plates, and cups, and you can add whatever else you’d like. The ease with which all this took place depends on the fact that any customer who lent them anything would be invited to the party, as is only proper, and this unanticipated nuance affected the number of guests. In fact, with each borrowing came another guest, until at one point the mother said: Not one more guest! We’ll make do with what we have. They already had plenty, it’s true, as it is also true that Renata and her sisters no longer needed to go house to house with requests, so many procurements after so many days. Enough already!
43
Let’s consider Demetrio’s proverbial visit to Renata’s house. A monarch was arriving, one who would be greeted by many maids all in a row: a reception line and smiles all around (diplomacy). But we’d do better to leave that for later, better for now to dig our teeth into what Doña Zulema said cheerfully when Doña Telma and Demetrio arrived at her ancient abode. Just like that, almost without so much as a polite welcome, she said that she had offered to help with the wedding preparations; that she had made herself available a while back, almost pleaded on her knees, somewhere between humble and obsequious, to the now quite largely looming Doña Luisa, who thanked her so graciously, no, there was no need—not at all!, and this should be understood because Doña Luisa stated that Demetrio’s generous contribution was enough of a boon and, as a result, everything else would be handled by the other party: the two women, first and foremost, and the entire family subsequently, as well as some of their customers. But let’s turn to another key moment, that of the arrival of Demetrio and his mother in the shiny blue truck; a blue you’d have to see to believe: modern metallic blue: full fledged blue, and to be fully enjoyed. The trip there was the nasty part: such a jumble of roads! However, the big guy’s sense of direction never failed and hence the (fleet) feat of arriving, exhausted, sick and tired of the bouncing, needless to say, which was now replaced by boasting. The motorized prodigy, then and there, the sight of which would soon send Renata into raptures.
And with no further ado—let’s go! Driving that solvent and haughty blueness through the streets of the town, Demetrio, the one and only king, though: what’s on view is the luxury, not the proud driver; what’s on view is the shining but cautious advance. That’s how it went, believe it or not. The fact was, Demetrio felt haughty, what with all the unwavering stares, all the way to Renata’s house, where—just watch him!—he whistled, a loud whistle, hence, presumptuous. Naturally they’d come running out of the store: Renata, her mother, and two of her sisters, a rip-roaring whistle, long though not piercing. Then, the evidence: the over-the-briny blueness that pulsated and continued to pulsate, like a shooting of hues into the air, really very attention grabbing. And herewith the consequences that came about just right: Renata, her mo
ther, and her sisters, all amazed, as well as the two husbands, soon added to the mix. All in all we have to imagine astonished paralysis. Six watched as the arrogant big guy descended from the vehicle then strode with a steadfast swagger: in their direction, then said, “What’s up?” And we must say he was received with an almost reverential welcome. They invited him into the living room: everybody! The man’s height impressed the sisters and their husbands: that future family member who had, so it seemed, a plethora of riches. Moreover, because he himself talked about how his business was making him mountains of money, a business he held up to the heavens and spoke about to all who wished to hear, although he had the tact not to mention the particular business it was: Just buying and selling, this simple fact revealed, even if it was a mysterious and indirect hint at the nature of his affairs. Finally, the family left Renata alone with her great love, and just as each felt the urge to formulate a question, they abstained and the whim wisely vanished. They did well to behave discreetly, ergo: back to work! let’s get on with it! Subconscious praise on its way. And Renata and Demetrio once again alone, now knowing that they would soon stand in front of each other naked and amorous; love like a bubble that would have to burst—finally?! because the truth was, he was eager to kiss his beloved on her cheek, a husband’s legitimate right, but she, repulsing him, reminded him that it was better to wait, that it wouldn’t be long before they could get on with their heavenly depravities. Demetrio wanted to shout in despair but ended up resigned, keeping in check an audible pout. Then, all on his own, he changed the subject, as if the cheekiness of a kiss on the cheek had become meaningless to him: with or without a lick? Bah. The thematic replacement was the truck: