“Good. Her and my grandbaby need some sleep.”
“She’ll be here first thing in the morning.”
He tried to raise his head. “I want to sit up, hija.”
Putting her hand on his moist back, she helped him.
“When can I go home?”
“You’re going to have to stay here for a while, Pops.”
“I hate hospitals.” His chest moved slightly. “Madre de Dios, they wake you up at all hours to make sure you’re still alive. Then, ay, all the food tastes like mashed potatoes.”
Toni smiled a little and sat down at the edge of the bed. “I’ll have to sneak in something better.”
“What about the nurses? They smell like medicine and could probably crush me with one hand.”
“Then you better behave.”
Toni wiped the perspiration away from his face with a washcloth.
“Sleep now. I’ll read to you. I brought a book from the library about Benito Juárez.”
Francisco closed his eyes. “The best president Mexico ever had. Did you know he was a full-blooded Indian?”
“Yes, I did.”
“His armies kicked the French out of Mexico.”
She opened the book. “I know. Old Benito was a fighter, just like you. Now close your eyes.”
He opened one eye. “I forgot you were a teacher.”
“Shhhh.” She began to read.
At the Borden Country Club across town, big Howard Hansen puffed on a cigar and sized up Michael as if he were a blond with a big chest. The fat man filled the chair in the upstairs lounge as he considered Michael’s political future. An HH was embroidered on his tie in elegant script. Sitting next to Hansen, Martin also smoked a cigar.
“State senator, huh?” Hansen said.
Despite his weight, Hansen’s voice sounded like Brenda Lee’s. Michael and almost everyone who knew him laughed about Hansen’s voice behind his back. They didn’t want to make him mad, because the big man hoarded grudges. The owner of a chain of department stores, Hansen had a vicious way of doing business that was legendary in the chambers of commerce across Arizona.
Ice tinkled as Martin shook his glass. “Michael is a superb choice for a candidate. He served the people in the county attorney’s office and demonstrated a range of excellent skills in my firm.”
Michael exhaled. Maybe he should have reminded his father how only a few months ago he had threatened to kick him out.
“The Shaw name goes a long way in this state, and your money goes a long way, too, Howard,” Martin said.
“A looonnnngggg way,” Hansen agreed and faced Michael, his double chin catching up with a wiggle. “This country is on the brink, son. We got the Russians beating us into space and threatening to bury us under a nuclear cloud. We got nigger music and Hula-Hoops. And we’ve lost strong, true Americans like Joe McCarthy.”
“The U.S. Senate condemned McCarthy,” Michael said.
“He was getting too close to the truth.”
“What truth? That he was a vindictive asshole?”
Martin cleared his voice. “You can see Michael is passionate. With your help, Howard, he can be the next senator headed to Washington.”
Howard took the smoke in and out of his mouth a few times. “Martin, we’ve known each other for more than thirty years. Before we throw this boy’s hat in the ring, I want to know something.” He glanced around the room to see if anyone else was listening. “You know to what I refer, Martin.”
Martin studied his club soda. “I don’t know what you mean.”
Hansen gave a lilting Brenda Lee laugh. “You’re so full of shit, Marty.” His voice lowered. “We’re all friends here. Word around town is your boy messed around with a Mexican dame from the president streets.”
His face unchanged, Martin took a drink of his soda and then said, “Unfounded gossip.”
Michael sat back and smiled. He had promised his father to let him handle the question should it arise. He had easily made a pact with the devil because he didn’t care about the life his father wanted to create for him. He had convinced himself they couldn’t touch him on the inside, at least not yet.
“Michael, what about that?” Hansen said.
“Well, Father?” Michael said.
Martin put the drink down. “My son is a family man and a skillful lawyer. He will be a great senator. He is the future of this country. If the Mitchell County Republican Party throws its support behind him, he won’t let you down.”
“Let the boy speak for himself. What about it, young Shaw? What about those rumors?”
No way was he going to let this blubber of a man even think about Toni. “I plead the Fifth.”
Howard blasted out air and smoke. His eyes teared from laughing. “Martin, your son here is as impressive a liar as you are. He may very well end up the next Joe McCarthy.”
Slapping Michael on the knee, Hansen winked before leaning back in the chair. “Hell, the fact you’re screwing women at all will probably even earn you a few extra votes.” He heaved back and laughed spit and arrogance.
46
EVEN WHEN HE WORKED as a deputy county attorney, Michael never visited a prison. He wondered now if he would have acted less strident in his prosecution if he had actually seen where criminals were incarcerated. Located 200 miles north of Borden, the state women’s prison lay smack in the middle of the desert. Then again, in a state like Arizona, there was a lot of desert, and most everything rested smack in the middle of it. Unlike the arid landscape he had admired from his tree house, the ground leading to the prison appeared deadly enough to swallow him whole if he dared leave the road. He pressed the gas pedal to speed past it.
Still, the drive constituted a nice escape. Jenny’s mother had visited for the past week. Having to be around Lily Ann’s fake glamour, snobbishness and pearl earrings made the large house shrink around him to the size of a closet. When he told Jenny he was off to see María Curry in prison, Lily Ann’s eyebrows raised so high, he believed they might stick to her stiff hairdo. “Something wrong?” he had asked sweetly.
“Nothing at all, Michael. What an attentive lawyer you are to visit clients already sent to prison,” Lily Ann had said and then sipped her cocktail.
He had opened his mouth to say something but closed it again when he recalled his promise to Jenny to be nice to her mother. Throughout her visit, he smiled vacantly during the inane discussions of window treatments, or else he sneaked off to sit in the study Jenny had created for him, with its sappy paintings of ducks and silly plaid wallpaper.
If he hadn’t gotten out of there, he would have been tempted to burn the place down.
Behind the fences topped with razor wire, the prison buildings made up a city of dejection. As Michael stepped through the gravel parking lot, his footsteps sounded forlorn. Inside, guards manhandled him in search of contraband. They were bigger than any player he had ever met on the football field. Painted in rotted cream colors, the halls seemed to go nowhere via shiny linoleum floors. Michael tried to judge the most pungent smell in the place—piss, antiseptic or body odor. He gave antiseptic the lead, with piss a close second. When the guard stopped in front of a metal door to the visiting room, Michael actually was surprised there was a destination to all the uniformity.
Removing his tie, Michael placed it in his pocket. On the banged-up table in the visitors’ room was a bag containing Baby Ruths, Hershey bars, toothpaste, a hairbrush, handkerchiefs and several books and magazines in Spanish he had asked Josita to find for him. He had also placed 200 dollars in María’s prison account so she could buy other items at the prison store. He asked the guards not to mention his name as her benefactor. How small a gesture for his failure. He had appealed the trial verdict to the Arizona Supreme Court, claiming rampant prejudice had violated his client’s civil rights. The justices denied his request for a review of María’s case and would not even look at the court record. María didn’t have to know about the second loss.
; The door squeaked open, and a blond matron entered. She could have played tackle on any men’s team.
“Mr. Shaw?” The woman spoke as gruffly as a car refusing to start. “I’m Guard Williamson. I’ll be your translator for the visit.” The woman took a seat. “The inmate will be here soon.”
“Where’d you learn Spanish, Guard Williamson?”
She stared straight ahead and put her hands in her wide lap. “My parents had a farm in Texas. You had to know how to speak Mexican to order around the workers.”
“I’ll bet you did.”
“Comes in handy. We have lots of Mexicans incarcerated here.”
Michael sat back in his chair. “Maybe because they’re the ones who can’t afford good lawyers.”
Guard Williamson wrinkled her nose as if she smelled something worse than piss in the air. Within a few minutes, the door squeaked open again. María came out from behind the shadow of another sizeable matron.
“Mr. Shaw.” She displayed a smile of surprise and a little apprehension.
“Hello, María.”
He wanted to hug her but was afraid he would offend. He held out his hand for her to shake. Her cheeks were fuller, albeit paler. Her hair had whitened and was clipped short in a ragged haircut.
The matron who brought her in stood by the door. María sat down across from him.
“Anything wrong, Mr. Shaw?” guard Williamson translated.
“I wanted to see you and make sure you’re all right.” Michael presented her the bag.
Needing no translation, María picked up each item and examined it, grateful for the gifts. “Mr. Shaw, you’re very kind.” She used English words here and there. “See, I’ve learned.”
“I talked to the warden, and he said you are doing well. You might be eligible for an early parole. We’ll work on that.”
“Thank you, but whatever happens is God’s will.” She crossed herself.
“How are they treating you?”
“Good, Mr. Shaw. I work in the garden and sometimes in the kitchen. I talk to other women here and eat good.”
“Then how come you’re pale, María?”
She became embarrassed. “I caught a little cold, that’s all, and it took a long time to get over it. Excuse me, Mr. Shaw, but you don’t look so good, too. Are you sick?”
“A little under the weather.”
She took a piece of paper from her pocket and patted it affectionately. “Antonia wrote me a letter.”
“How is she?”
“Her father is very sick in the hospital. That’s why she couldn’t visit me.”
“I didn’t know,” he said quietly.
“He may never come out again.”
“Toni and I, we haven’t … talked.” His voice dropped off.
“I know, Mr. Shaw. She wrote me.”
He suddenly recognized the English words were coming out of Guard Williamson, who sat up with attention during their conversation. He didn’t give a shit. “Did Toni say anything else about me?”
“I don’t know.” María refolded the letter.
“Por favor, María.”
“She wished you had been stronger.”
The words slammed into his chest like a cannonball.
“I’m sorry.” María reached for his hand. “I shouldn’t have told you. I don’t want to hurt you, after you’ve treated me so well.”
The other matron glanced down at her watch. “Two more minutes.”
“Thank you for coming to see me and for the gifts,” María said in English.
“I’ll come back again, if that’s all right.”
María’s small face lifted with a smile. “I’d like that, Mr. Shaw.”
“Then I’ll see you soon.”
María stood but didn’t leave. “You know, I did write back to Antonia.”
“That’s good, María.”
“I told her she was wrong about you.”
The matron guided María out the door.
47
TAKING PLEASURE IN KEEPING at least one secret, Jenny never told her mother about the young Mexican woman. Besides, Lily Ann would only have heaped more advice on her, which implied Jenny couldn’t think for herself. Then again, she hadn’t for a long time.
“Michael is coming along nicely.” Her mother arranged a fur piece about her neck as they waited for her flight. “That boy could become a reliable husband yet.”
“Mother!”
“Well, congratulations again on your new home. It is beautiful, and I hope you’ll follow my decorating tips. If you do, your home will become a showplace.”
Jenny slumped.
“What’s wrong with you? Are you pregnant?”
“No.”
“Don’t worry. That’ll be next. If he changed his mind about the house, children won’t be far behind.”
People began to board the airplane. Her mother kissed Jenny. “I’m sorry again we won’t see you for Christmas, but Maxwell promised me the holidays in France.”
“Have a wonderful trip.”
She hugged her daughter and whispered, “Children will keep a man around.”
“Thanks for your confidence.” Afterward, Jenny wasn’t sorry to see the plane climb into the sky.
Moving into and decorating the new house left little time for Jenny to worry about the woman from the courtroom. Michael never confessed to anything, and she never asked. He had stayed home since the trial ended, which told her the affair was over. Like his father, Michael ate dinner and then spent most of the time in his study. The intruder was out of their lives. Still, each time Jenny stopped in a store or walked down the street, she kept an eye out for the woman. As for her mother’s predictions of her pregnancy, fat chance, since Michael slept in another bedroom. But she would work on enticing him back to her bed, and it would only take one time to get pregnant. To heck with that hussy.
On her way back home from the airport, a rush of what felt like bathwater went through her, and Jenny dared to sing “Younger Than Springtime.” She—Jenny Anderson Shaw—finally had the upper hand. She had Michael.
When the phone rang, Toni had just stepped into her father’s house with a bag of groceries. She rushed, even though she feared it might be the hospital with bad news.
“Toni?”
She paused for a moment in surprise. “Hello, Michael.”
“María told me your father was hospitalized. How’s he doing?”
Because she wanted to tell him everything, she decided to tell him nothing. “He’s holding on. Thank you for asking. María wrote that you visited and brought her gifts. She really appreciated it.”
“She’s doing well, under the circumstances. How about you?”
“I’m fine … under the circumstances.” The lie vibrated in her ears.
“You don’t sound fine.”
She disliked the personal note in his voice. He had proved it was full of nothing. “How are you?”
“Nothing’s changed.”
The wrong answer. “Thanks for calling, but I’ve got to go to work now,” she said.
“Toni … ”
“Yes, Michael.”
“If there’s anything I can do … ”
“There’s nothing.” She hung up. As soon as she did, she cried. She had to stop, or she would be weeping for the rest of her life. Drying her face on a kitchen towel, Toni put away the groceries.
At the other end of the dead line, Michael sat for a long time in the study. He took out a bottle of whiskey and a glass but didn’t pour a drink.
Eavesdropping in the hall, Jenny had heard most of the conversation, but she didn’t confront him about the call. It wouldn’t do any good.
48
FROM THE WINDOW in her father’s hospital room on the fourth floor, Toni had an excellent view of the mill, which was the last place she wanted to see. The smoke from the stacks huffed into the cold air as the mill churned night and day with the efforts of workers. She wanted to blow up the place. By blowing it up, she
could save all those other men destined to die from the tiny metal razors in the air.
While she tried not to think of Michael, he came to her like a lost truth. She was grateful when Francisco groaned. “Hello, hija.” He sat up in bed.
“I’m glad you slept. How are you?”
“Not bad. A bunch of guys from work came earlier today.” The oxygen mask he wore at night and increasingly during the day made his voice as rough as a smoker’s.
“Really. Who?”
“Samuel Ruiz, Primo Ortiz, Chico Alonzo and some others. They brought me a bottle of beer as a joke, but the nurse took it away.”
“They miss you.”
He smiled faintly. “They wanted to know when I was coming back to work.”
Toni fixed the blankets around him and closed the window blinds. “Not yet, but soon.”
“Don’t lie to me, Toni.”
She took a seat near his bed. “You have to concentrate on getting better so you can come home. Carmen is tired of my cooking.”
“You’re sad, and it’s not all because I’m in here. Me and you are a pair of good ones. You sad and me sick.”
“I’m sorry for everything.”
“¿Por qué?”
“You know for what, you must have heard.”
“I didn’t hear anything.”
“Now you’re the one not telling the truth.” She wiped the perspiration off his forehead with a tissue.
“Then you better go to confession. That’s all I can say.” His voice held concern, not condemnation, and Toni was thankful. She wanted no more lies between them.
“Did he hurt you, hija?”
“Yes and no. I never told you, but when I lived in Phoenix, I was very lonely. I missed you and Carmen a lot.”
“We were lonely for you, too.”
“I made friends there. But when you walk into a room of people and you’re the only one who’s different, you can see it in their eyes. When I came home, I ran into another kind of loneliness. Maybe Jesús was right. Maybe I did change, but I thought it was for the better.”
“You stepped out of your life here to see the bigger world. Home is never the same afterward. That’s what I found after I left the farm fields.” Francisco coughed a little.
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