“Your aunt?”
“Yeah. Hardly knew her. She lived in Texas. Probably still does. I had only seen her twice in my life. She had heard I was in a funk, so she called. She told me something I’ll never forget…something that gave me perspective.”
“What was it?”
“She asked me, ‘If your dad was alive, how do you think he would feel about you being so sad?’ When I didn’t answer, she said, ‘Your father only wanted your happiness. Why do you think he worked so hard? He only wanted you to be a happy person who enjoyed life. What you’re doing is disrespecting him. If he was there, he’d shake you…tell you to get over it…tell you to get on with your life. If you are happy, you will be giving him the best gift you can give. Remember him, yes…but don’t waste your life remembering.’”
“Wow.”
“Yeah, deep, right? I haven’t heard from that old bitch since! Not so much as a birthday card. But she nailed it that day. Best advice I ever got. So now I try to live each day to be happy. I stopped caring about small shit. I stopped fretting over useless things. I only keep a few mementos, and I travel light. I can be anywhere I want tomorrow, and I’ll enjoy it while I’m there. I’ll find work somehow, get a roof over my head, and get out and enjoy what’s out there. Life is too short! You gotta soak in each moment. If you ain’t happy, you need to change…immediately. You finished?”
Danny slurped down the last of the drink and showed Lee the empty pineapple, yellow fruit stained pink.
“Good, let’s walk down to the beach. I want to feel the sun and the water.”
=
XV
The next morning, at breakfast, Lee didn’t show at their agreed-upon time. Danny ate lightly, a bit worried about his friend. He went to the room and knocked, but no answer. He began to get more concerned. He pounded twice on the door, but no answer. “Lee…you in there? You okay?” No answer.
As he approached the hotel front desk, a man in a suit waved to him. “Sir” with a strongly trilled “r,” “your friend, he left you a note.” He handed Danny a piece of paper. He opened it. It read, “I’m sorry, man. You’re a good soul. Don’t let this fuck you up. Good luck. Lee.”
He looked at the man, “Is this all he left? Where did he go?”
“He had a bag with him. It was early. About 6:00. He walked out the front door.”
“Did he check out of the hotel?”
“He did not sir, but he handed me his key, per hotel policy, before he went out. Did his note say when he would be back?”
“Can I have the key to his room?”
The man took the key and went with Danny. He opened Lee’s room. Inside, there was little evidence that someone had been there. The bed had been slept in. One towel on the bathroom floor. No personal items. Otherwise, the room looked unused.
“That’s weird. He didn’t pay for the room?”
“No sir, but he did charge some expenses to the room. Did he not tell you?”
Danny had a sick feeling. “Let me see the bill please.”
When he saw the bill, he felt like an idiot…used. Lee had ordered several bottles of alcohol, and the good stuff: Chivas Regal, two bottles; The Macallen, two bottles; Stolichnaya Vodka, three bottles. Along with sandwiches, bottled water, and a hotel bathrobe, it was over $400. Lee was smart: this was nothing they would throw up a dragnet for, but enough that he could party or trade on for a while. He pictured him on a bus toasting the idiot friend he left behind.
Yet he wasn’t completely shocked. While Lee had seemed like a great friend, he also didn’t know the guy very well. “My bad for trusting someone,” he said aloud, chuckling a bit.
The day before, they had walked along the beach. Lee had been so gracious and kind, giving Danny time to remember his wife.
And he had.
Danny had walked along, lost in his old life. He could picture Melissa running ahead of him, as she always would. He remembered her kicking water on him. She was always livening him up, always finding a way to make him smile. Danny knew he was a bit of a dour character. He was a bit shy and introspective. Melissa was his opposite…gregarious and energized. He had loved that about her. Her freedom. Her free spirit. Her room-brightening smile. Her willingness to laugh at herself. Her shine. She was always on the move, and pulled him along when he was slow to get going.
Now he was alone yet again.
Yet he wasn’t mad, really. That surprised him. That betrayal of trust would’ve been enough to send Danny through the roof before. Six months ago, he would’ve been contacting the police, calling lawyers…he would’ve seriously overreacted to a relatively small loss, and it would have torn him apart inside. Now? He was hurt, yes, but just not too much. He was sad, but only a little.
Instead of going to his room, he walked back out to the beach. He took a look at the ocean. He listened to the waves. He pulled the images into his mind. Into his heart. He took deep breaths, so that the sharp, briny smell was in his lungs. He tasted the sea salt, and swallowed it into his body. He wanted to feel it. Own it. Carry it. Be the ocean. Be a bubble in the waves. Be a grain of sand on the beach. He was there in his spirit.
The figure of his wife, yellow sundressed, running on the beach, was there, but so was the image of him and his friend Lee. They were there also. He had added new images to his story. Rosarito Beach had a new chapter. It was odd. Akimbo. Erratic. But a chapter. He had lived a little, after all, and it felt good.
He tried to imagine what Melissa would say to him now, if she were here. Would she chuckle at him for trusting someone like that? Or would she comfort him, as she did when he felt sad? Or would she scold him for being such a downer, and drag him out to the water to splash around?
And he felt like he needed more. He had more ideas to understand. More aspects of his life he needed to explore.
He turned. He walked back to his room. A flurry of emotions was waiting for him just up ahead. He knew there was much more to do. He had a job. He had a direction. He knew. Finally, he knew. It all became crystal clear to him in that moment. Since she had died, he felt rudderless, adrift in a sea of turmoil and confusion. Dashed against the rocks. Out of control. Now he felt he understood his path, even if just his immediate one. Now he knew what his plan would be…if only for a little while. Later, he might change, but for now he was facing forward and ready to move.
Back at his hotel room, he began to pack. After he had gathered most of his items, he realized he had not seen his car keys. He began to look through the pockets of his cases. He checked the clothes he was wearing the day before. He looked under the bed. Gone.
He wasn’t at all surprised when he went to the parking lot and saw that his Honda was gone. Not surprised at all.
What surprised him, though, was his response. He simply looked at the empty spot, and started to chuckle to himself. “Lee, well done, man. Cheers.”
XVI
The bumpy, dusty bus ride to Ensenada left him thirsty. Throwing his bags into his small, cheap room, he walked to the nearby One Bar. Though it was early afternoon, the bar was already half full. He ordered a double whiskey and Coke, and settled onto the stool. He wasn’t surprised that he finished his drink quickly and ordered another. The warm taste of the whiskey eased his headache.
The One Bar was small and dark. He was the only gringo, it seemed. He could tell there were out-of-towners, as they were dressed in casual clothes. The locals wore dusty denim and hats. He enjoyed the feel of this bar. It felt like he wanted it to feel. Calm. Quiet, but not a tomb. He wanted to see the water later, but for now was enjoying the cool drinks.
He had enjoyed his time in B-school, but had never really been allowed to “cut loose.” Several of his friends and classmates had scholarships or parental funding, and spent a lot of time going to football games and bars. Not Danny. He worked doubly hard, working nights and weekends whenever possible. Saving every penny. He knew people who graduated with massive debts. He had taken a finance class with the great Billy Shaw, w
ho was the star forward for the Sac State Hornets basketball team. Billy had needed help for the final, and Danny was glad to assist and tutor him. While taking a break, Billy had told Danny that he had borrowed over $70,000 to pay for school, room, food, and other “necessities.” “A man’s gotta have a little fun now and then, Danny!” he had said. That was no problem for Billy, as he signed a contract the following year with the LA Clippers. Danny knew he would have no such contract waiting for him. While he had worked very hard, he graduated with only $9,300 in student loans. He was quite proud of that, and prouder that he paid off that Stafford loan the year after his graduation.
Kaiser, though, had felt empty to him. He was using the skills he had worked hard for, but he felt the organization wasn’t a good fit for him. The CEO was a bloodless fellow, and the area finance manager, his boss, was a small petulant man who always felt others were out to take his job from him. Fear and suspicion were rampant, and nobody talked much or wanted to know anybody else. Danny immediately hated the job, but stayed for Melissa.
Melissa, on the other hand, instantly fell in love with her job. She loved working with at-risk high schoolers. She immediately saw the consequences of her work. She immediately knew she was making a difference. Luther Burbank High School served some of the toughest, poorest families in South Sacramento, and she loved that challenge. That was Melissa…she wanted to make the world a better place. And she did. He saw how hard she worked, often working late into the night, or spending Saturdays at the school, preparing reports or meeting with administrators. When they shared a tiny apartment, her light at night often kept him up, but he never complained. Later, they purchased a four-bedroom home, down payment provided by the sale of his childhood home, and each of them had their own office. Her light never kept him up again, but he knew she often worked past midnight on individual education plans for her students. She loved her work.
They had bought the house in Elk Grove a mere six months after finishing college. They loved the simple two-story home. While not particularly large, especially by Melissa’s Omaha standards, it was larger than any house Danny had ever lived in, and a far cry from the old cinder-block home where he spent most of his life. They had loved the manicured front lawn and spacious backyard. They had both spoken about a playground in the back for their eventual children. Children. They knew they would spend nights and weekends playing with their kids there. Perhaps a golden retriever. A simple family life. It was what they both wanted. Both of them.
But he had discovered he hated his job. Absolutely loathed every minute of it. He dreaded going to work. Dreaded the soul-sucking atmosphere. Hated that he felt his job was on the line every day. As much as Melissa had loved what she did, he had hated his work. He knew that he was lucky to have a manager position out of college; few of his classmates had reached the same level. Most had to work their way up…slowly. He was already as high as most people go with just a bachelor’s. The pay was, after all, affording them a home in a high-cost area. Melissa worked harder than Danny, but school salaries could not match private sector pay. He knew he couldn’t leave his job without losing his ability to pay for the home they loved.
“Hola, señor.” Danny was startled from his reflection by a soft voice next to him. He looked her up and down. A small, petite Mexican girl. Dark eyes. Long, dark hair. Beautiful tanned skin. She smiled at him. He smiled back.
“Hello. I don’t speak Spanish.”
She smiled even larger. “My English is not good. You buy me drink?”
Danny looked at the bartender, who was already looking at him expectantly. As he began to consider how he would order her a drink, the bartender nodded and began to mix one for her. Ah, I know the deal here.
She slid herself onto the barstool next to him. Her perfume smelled so sweet. He hadn’t sat next to a woman in a while. When the bartender slid the drink over to her, she lifted it, waiting for him to raise his.
“Cheers,” she said, and they clinked glasses.
“What your name?” she asked, in an obviously rehearsed accent.
“Danny,” he replied, wishing he had given her a fake name. He doubted that any name she gave would really be her own anyway.
“Nice to meet you” again rehearsed. “My name es Alejandra” she said, sounding like Al-eh-HAN-dra. She held out her tiny hand for him.
He shook it. “Nice to meet you too, Alejandra.”
They sat there silently for a couple minutes, sipping their drinks. He twice looked over at her, and twice she smiled, tucked her chin, looked up at him with big brown eyes. He didn’t know what else to say. He hadn’t spoken with a woman, other than Inez, in weeks. He hadn’t ever spoken to a prostitute. What do you say to a bar girl? What is there to talk about?
He heard a man laughing, and looked over. There were three of them, sitting at a table nearby. They were looking at him and laughing loudly. They’re judging me. They assume I’m a gringo looking for a night with a prostitute. His face flushed. Anger and embarrassment. He knew that everybody knew the deal with Alejandra, and he didn’t like it.
She looked up at him again. “I like you Dan-nee. You like me, yes?” You’re a fucking prostitute. Like has nothing to do with it. He knew he had to extricate himself from this situation. He knew it wasn’t going to end prettily.
“Hey, Alejandra, I have to go get something to eat. I’m very hungry.” She looked at him confused, so he pantomimed his hand to his mouth. He got up to leave, handing the bartender $10 and not waiting for change. She grabbed her purse and finished her drink. He thought she understood, but as he walked out of the bar, he noticed she was behind him. Shit.
“Alejandra, I have to get something to eat. Hungry. Hungry.” He knew his face showed frustration.
“It okay. I go wih you” she replied.
“No, I don’t want sex. No sex!” He said this louder than he had intended. He was thankful nobody was nearby to hear him shout that.
“No sex. Food. I show you good food, Danny. What you think I want? No sex…food.” Oh shit. Did I just insult this girl? Is she not a prostitute? He looked her in the eyes for the first time. She looked back. Firmly, but tenderly. I don’t understand…is she a bar girl or not?
“I just go to get food.” He lowered his vocabulary for clarity.
“I know. I go get food too, Danny” she replied. He already felt bad for insulting her. Even if she is a prostitute, she’s still a human being. I can’t treat people like this. What kind of asshole am I becoming?
“Okay,” he said. “Where do we go eat? I want fish tacos.”
She smiled at him. “Mama’s has best fish tacos in Ensenada, Danny. We take taxi…walk es too far.” He figured the time eating would allow him to sort out her line of work and what she was expecting. She hailed a cab and they got in together.
XVII
As he crunched down his last fish taco, he looked at Alejandra. She was a very pretty young woman. The problem was, he knew so little Spanish. Despite growing up in California, he had never bothered to learn much. He took French in high school, and had already forgotten all but a few words. As he looked at her, she looked back up at him and smiled. He thought that if he kept his vocabulary limited he might be able to talk with her a bit.
“Are you from Ensenada?”
“I live in Ensenada, yes.”
“No, did you grow up in Ensenada? When you were little?” He held his hand low, to indicate a smaller size.
“Oh…no…when little I live Hermasillo.” She smiled broadly at him. She pronounced it Her-ma-Si-yo. “My father farmer. He die when I’m young. We move Ensenada. Mi madre she work in Esteros Beach Resort. Mi madre she old now. She not work now. I help mi familia.”
“So you begin to work in bars?” He hated how judgmental he sounded.
“No, I start working cleaning hotel, same mi madre, but I have two brothers go to school. Not enough money.”
He had never stopped to think about how a woman would find herself needing to work in bar
s. She only smiled at him.
She caught his eyes again. “How long you stay Ensenada, Danny?”
“I don’t know Alejandra. I like it here, but I think I will keep moving. After a few days maybe.” When he saw she didn’t understand him, he repeated, “A few days. Three days maybe.” He saw understanding this time.
When they finished their meal, they began to stroll along the avenue. They were in a shopping district. Lots of stores. They reminded him of Tijuana. She walked quietly next to him, looking into stores as they strolled.
“Do you like these shops?”
“I see these shops many times. They charge gringos too much. If you want better shopping, I can show you nice place.”
“They charge Americans more?”
“Si. Locals pay half price. They make prices very high for tourists. If you want good shopping I can show you a nice place.”
“Don’t you need to get back to work?” Work.
“I like walking with you, Danny. You are very nice. If you want me go, I go.” Her eyes were questioning.
“No, I don’t want you to go. I like walking with you also.”
“Okay, I stay then.” She smiled, and hooked her hand at his elbow. He reflexively crooked his arm. He hadn’t had a woman touch him this way in a while, and it felt good. Made him feel like a man. He could smell her sweet perfume, and her soft hand on his arm made him feel strong. Then he hated himself for feeling that way. He knew, after all, that he wasn’t strong. That he failed to be strong when it mattered most.
They strolled along for about an hour. They didn’t buy anything. He enjoyed looking at things with her. He would hold up an item to her, perhaps a ceramic, perhaps a glass carving. She would smile, or wrinkle her nose if she didn’t like something. She was very soft. Very feminine. Her eyes were very dark, and he couldn’t suppress the desire he began to feel for her. As it was getting hotter, he felt thirsty.
The One Way (Changes Book 1) Page 8