The World in Pancho's Eye - J P S Brown

by J P S Brown

  The sheriff's office looked like a place where whiskey was not so far out of place. Nothing would have seemed out of place in there, especially anything a man ought not to have. Besides, anywhere Paul settled would have to be a good place for whiskey, or he would not stay. He might be down, but he would never be so down he would give up his whiskey.

  Paul, however, had become spiritless. His eyes swam in tears. He had given up being slim, brown, smiling Fast Paul while he was a jailer. He was having to plod and his coat was dull.

  He sat Mikey down in the sheriff's office and introduced him to everybody who came in, including the trustee. Paul ushered Mikey to the main door of the jail and showed him the bullpen and the individual cells for the permanent inmates. Paul had made friends with all the prisoners who were there for long terms, so he introduced Mikey to them and they smiled and waved to him. He ignored four shambling males who were loose in the bullpen. He said that they were only there because they had been drunk, vagrant, disturbing of the peace, or had done something sneaky. Those transients clustered together and smoked jealously clutched cigarettes, made sidelong glances at Mikey, and spoke in low, sinister voices. With them in sight, Mikey felt clean and innocent and no kind of an outlaw.

  The long-term inmates braided horsehair, painted pictures, or played cards outside the doors of their cells. They looked freshly showered and shaved. Their undershirts and overalls were clean, their brogans were shined, and their faces were open. Paul laughed and said that they were happy because they stayed busy and kept the devil away. The overnighters and short-timers did not do anything except give everybody fearful, dirty looks. Panfilo was in the cluster of short-timers that day. Mikey was not surprised to see him there. He believed that someday no one would be able to find Panfilo anywhere unless it was in jail or under a rock. Mikey often saw him with his family at Sunday Mass at Sacred Heart Cathedral. At Mass he looked dumb and mindless. ln the bullpen he looked cunning, crafty, and completely at home. Paul let him out while Mikey was there and he

  made a mark in the place where he was supposed to sign for his wallet and comb. His eyes went blank and he swung his head from side to side to make Paul think he was crazy. Then, when he

  turned to leave and he thought no one was looking, his eyes found some old misery inside himself to look at.

  Paul did not ask Mikey if he planned to stay at the jail, or how he would make it the four miles home before dark. Paul was there de planta, planted by the powers that paid his wages, and he did not seem to have solutions or considerations for life in the outside world. He took the same meals as the prisoners and slept on a cot so close to the bullpen door that he breathed the same air, made the same sounds, and saw only the same walls day and night.

  When Mikey decided that he had better head for home, a young Mexican cowboy trustee named Bonifacio Santa Cruz walked for a way with him. Bonifacio had come in from the ranch for a night in town and had been in a fight over a girl. He stopped and turned back before he was out of sight of the jail because he was forbidden to go any farther. As he walked back to jail, he turned often and waved to Mikey.

  Mikey went back to see if he could still catch the bus, but the school was empty inside and out. The door on the side of the main building was open, so he went in and walked down the center of the main hallway. The corridors were dark. He decided all of a sudden that he needed to get outside as fast as he could. He ran, turned a corner, and collided with Panfilo.

  Mikey tried to get around him, but he blocked the way. His black eyes glittered in the dark hallway. "Ah hah, I followed you," he said in Spanish. "You are not supposed to be here." He seized Mikey's shoulder in one hand and held him at arm's length, probably because he remembered the poke in the nose Mikey had given him. Being boxed in by cattle and horses had taught Mikey not to waste time squirming or whining. He also had developed a habit of kicking rocks, so Maggie had taken his shoes to a cobbler to have brass tips put on the toes so he would not wear them out. He kicked Panfilo in the shin twice before the man could draw a breath. The first kick made him howl. The second made him turn loose the kid.

  Mikey ran out of the building and headed for home. He crossed the grounds in front of the school building and saw a person hiding behind the hedge that bordered the grounds. He saw that the person was a girl and he stopped beside her.

  Lorraine Knox's white face turned to him and she started to cry. Her cheek was cut. Mikey held his handkerchief against it to stop it from bleeding. He asked Lorraine if the bus was coming back.

  "No."

  "How come you missed it? What're you doing here?"

  "I followed you to the courthouse and a man chased me back here," she said.

  Mikey knew it must have been Panfilo.

  "How'd you cut your cheek?"

  She smiled. "I stuck my head up in the hedge to hide until the man went inside."

  "Why did you follow me?"

  "I saw you skin away to go see your dad and I wanted to bring you back so you wouldn't miss the bus. Then that man came out of the courthouse and when I asked him about you, he scared me so bad I ran and he chased me all the way back here."

  "He scared the darned peewadding out of me inside the school when I came around the corner of the corridor."

  "I got ahead of him and hid, but he walked right by the hedge where I was and it was dark enough that he didn't see me. Boy was I scared."

  "Well, now, we've both missed the bus, haven't we?"

  Mikey looked up and saw Panfilo hurry through the light of the front window of a house up the street. His head was drawn down into his shoulders like a turtle's, as though he was afraid someone would see his face. Anybody in town could recognize Panfilo Gandara without even looking at his face.

  "Panfilo, I know what you did," Mikey yelled in Spanish. Panfilo hurried on.

  Right then Mikey's mom and Nina drove up in Maggie's car. Mr. Clark had called and told Maggie that Mikey missed the bus. She loaded Mikey and Lorraine in the backseat and headed for home.

  Maggie went into a tirade about the reasons she should not be mad at Mikey for wanting to see his father. Worthless as Paul was, he was still the boy's father. Worthless as he was, Paul might someday reform and she did not want him to be able to say that she had kept his son away. Then she made a lot of talk about his drinking, and some talk about his good points, and after all, who could blame the boy for taking it upon himself to visit his father? Oh, but she prayed that was the worst thing he would ever do.

  At the Knoxes', Mikey could see lamplight between the boards of the house's walls. Nobody came out, so Maggie went to the door with Lorraine and knocked. Mrs. Knox opened the door and Mikey heard her call Maggie "Miz Summers" in a low, respectful voice. He could see Bill crouched over a bowl with a spoon in one hand and a piece of bread in the other. Bugs flew around a kerosene lamp in the middle of the table. As Maggie visited with Mrs. Knox, she smoothed Lorraine's hair with one hand and held on to her hand, as though she did not want to let her go.

  When she came back to the car, Maggie paused and looked back at the closed door. Mikey could hear Bill Knox's quiet voice.

  "Mikey, what were you kids doing?" Maggie asked. "Why is that girl's little face scratched?" She switched on the light inside the car. "Let me look at you."

  "I'm not scratched, mama."

  "How did your little friend get scratched, Mikey?" Nina asked.

  "She crawled up inside the hedge in front of the school."

  "Why did she do that?" Maggie asked.

  "She said somebody chased her."

  "Who was that?"

  "I think it was that crazy Panfilo."

  Nina laughed. "Panfilo's a character in the Mexican funnies. That isn't anybody real, Mikey. You sure have a great imagination for stories when you're in trouble."

  "You know, Nina. Panfilo Gandara."

  "Gandara? Oh, yes, you mean Ruben Gandara. I guess the kids do call him Panfilo."

  "Am I going to get a whipping?"

&n
bsp; Nina laughed again. "Ay, muchuchito," she said.

  "We'll see," Maggie said.

  Mikey knew then that he would be spared. Maggie did not waste time waiting or talking when she had spanking on her mind. The next day Mikey examined Lorraine's face at recess. She was always one to lead in the games and play hard, but not that day. She lifted the bandage so Mikey could see the cut on her cheek. It was not deep and she said it did not hurt.

  Lorraine and Mikey had been fast friends since the day she mesmerized him at her house when he was three. Her power to mesmerize him was the only reason he had time for her. She seldom laughed or acted happy, but as far as he could tell, that was not because she was unhappy. She seemed to love fun as much as other kids as long as she could be the one who led the fun. He did not worry that she did not smile; he figured that she was probably too pretty, mysterious, and wise to give in to silly mirth. Most of the time when Mikey laughed he went absolutely silly and every decent thought in his head went away and left him blank as a post. At first recess Lorraine walked away by herself and Mikey was kind of glad. Ordinarily she wanted too much attention from him and he would rather play sports with the other boys. At lunch she came and sat with him, so he tried to get her to tell him what was bothering her. She only said that she could not tell anyone, so he knew she was just trying to act mysterious after all. During last recess all she did was watch the street in front of the school, so he went over and asked her what she was worried about, because he knew that was what she wanted him to do.

  "You'll see after school, maybe," she said.

  "You still afraid of Panfilo?"

  "No, Mikey 'twas Frankenstein who chased me all the way down from the courthouse."

  "Well, you don't have to be afraid of Panfilo," he said. "He can be killed with one kick in the shin."

  "Do you still want my pocketknife, Mikey?"

  "Sure."

  Lorraine took a pocketknife with a red and yellow handle out of her pencil box. "I'1l give you this knife if you'll walk me to the bus and get on with me and sit with me every day until I say to stop."

  "How long will that be?"

  "Maybe not too long."

  "Give me the knife now."

  "No, not until I don't need you to walk me to the bus and sit with me anymore."

  Mikey thought it over. Walking a girl to the bus every day would put an awful cramp in his style. Everybody in school knew that he had the guts to skip the bus and visit his dad; had become the only kid in Nogales with free access to the sheriff's office and jail; was good friends with a trustee; had watched the convicts in the jail; prowled the school alone at night; and put Panfilo, the spookiest person any kid in Nogales had ever known, in the breeze. He did not want to give up all that glory to become a kept escort for a girl, but he would have to do it. He would do anything Lorraine asked him to do and he would do it for nothing. Lorraine had already bribed him more than once with the promise of that knife, and then reneged when it came time to pay off.

  Mikey said, "Lorraine, you've already given me that knife. When can I have it?"

  "This time I'll give it to you."

  "You know that I'll walk you to the bus and sit with you, don't you?"

  "Yes."

  "Then give me the knife now."

  "No."

  "Why not?"

  "You'll take it and forget your promise."

  "I don't do people that way. You do."

  Lorraine smiled into his eyes. "I have to be sure you'll stay with me after school."

  "The best way to be sure of that is to give me the knife."

  She said, "Hah!" and almost laughed.

  After school, when Mikey walked out to see if the bus had arrived, Panfilo was standing in the middle of the street selling rocks to himself. He walked along, stopped, picked a rock off the ground, held it up, sold himself on its merits, pocketed it, then snapped his head around to see if anyone was looking. "Panfilo," Mikey said. "Se lo que hiciste. I know what you did." Panfilo wore his street veneer that afternoon, so he was able to ignore Mikey and did not even glance his way. Mikey was at least glad that the nut did not give him his menacing stare.

  He went back into the building and told Lorraine that Panfilo was busy as a vendor and would not bother them. She held onto his arm and only glanced once at Panfilo as she walked to the bus. When they boarded, Mr. Clark said, "You two sit in the back and stay put because I don't want to have to explain to your folks that you got away from everybody again." He watched them in the rearview mirror all the way back to their seats, then periodically glanced at them to make sure they stayed put until all the other children boarded. He did not stop watching them until after he shut the door, started the bus, and drove it away from the school.

  Two blocks later the bus passed Panfilo and he looked up past Lorraine straight into Mikey's eyes with the most evil menace the boy had ever seen. Mikey did not know one other kid in Nogales who was so hated by that man. He knew that Panfilo entertained inordinate affections for all kinds of odd pastimes, but he had not expected to be singled out for a lifetime of his hate. Mikey wanted everybody to like him. What had he done to deserve that kind of look, except punch Panfilo a little in the eye and nose and give him a little brass-tipped kick on the shin?

  One evening after supper, Mikey perched in the thickest foliage of his elderberry tree to watch the cars go by. He liked to watch the people's faces flash by, catch their expressions, then shut his eyes and imagine what they were like. Most of the faces seemed content, but sometimes they would act mean to one another as they went by and the meanest face was usually on the driver, maybe the father. When the father's face was mean, the faces of the mother and the kids showed that it made them suffer, so Mikey found that he was not the only one who had trouble at home.

  The difference was that Paul was never mean. Maggie was the only one who put on the mean face in Mikey's family. However, she was not often mean when Paul was gone and never as mean about anything the way she was about Paul.

  Mikey's trouble did not seem as bad as some of the trouble that went by in the cars. Mikey was not afraid of Paul and neither was Maggie. Mikey saw fear in the faces of some of those mothers and kids that went by. Most of them were happy, though, even when the father's face was fixed on the road and his own thoughts. Once in a while the mother's face would be mean. Then, usually, the father's face was fixed expressionlessly on the road, unless he was giving as much as he got.

  In the 1930's people often went out for drives on warm nights for pleasure. A drive on a warm evening with all the windows rolled down cooled the passengers. People did not drive so fast that they did not have time to recognize their friends and wave to them. They even waved to people who were not their friends. Some people even waved to cars before they saw the faces inside. Mikey's uncles Buster and Fred did that.

  On that spring night, Mikey watched the people go by for the simple pleasure of it. Baxter lay quietly under the tree and only raised his head when the Horrells' half-breed Boston bulldog came marching stiff-legged up the highway to taunt him.

  The Horrells' dog hated Baxter, Mikey, and Billy Shane. His body was white with black spots, and his head was black with a white diamond on top. His tail was bobbed too long and was clubby. He owned the angry disposition and the stringy build of a grouch who could not enjoy anything long enough to gain any meat on his bones. The dog was called Popie, as in Little Pope. Carmen spoke with a thick Mexican accent and for "puppy" she said "Popie." Billy called him "the Pope."

  Before Mikey or Billy tried to cross the dog's backyard, they always had to scout his whereabouts. Sometimes they could make it across without being terrorized by him if he was on the other side of the house or inside. He enjoyed a terrible advantage over the boys because the Horrells' storeroom and garage was only a few feet from their back door and the yard was fenced all around. If the dog caught them in that lane between the back door and the storeroom and the two closed gates, he could, as Billy said, "Trashmash a bato."
A bato was kind of a Mexican fellow. Kids were all batos to each other.

  Sometimes the dog would be inside the house and see the boys coming. He would lie quietly in ambush in a dark corner of a hallway until the moment they passed the back door and had almost made it safely across his yard. Then he would erupt with a fierce grashing noise that was a cross between a growl and the gnashing of teeth, and he would throw himself against the inside of the screened back door with such savagery that the boys would feel instantly trapped inside the very breath of hell.

  One night the dog waited for Billy behind a bush outside his door and bit him on the bare heel and put him in bed with an infection for a week. That taught Mikey to worry about hydrophobia, or rabies. For the two weeks that the dog was in quarantine, Billy and Mikey were afraid that the dog's madness might have been caused by the rabies.

  Because Mikey was dangerously dreamy, every now and then he wandered through the Horrells' yard in a trance and exposed himself to the lurking dog. One winter day, Mikey jumped right out of both shoes when the dog charged him from around the corner of the house. For the next three or four seconds that he used to effect his escape the loss of his shoes presented no problem. Without shoes he could outrun Beelzebub himself. However, the dog stood guard over his shoes and chewed on them for the rest of the day and nobody came out of the house to call him off. When Mikey finally told Maggie about it, she had to call Carmen Horrell and ask her to take hold of her dog so Mikey could get his shoes. Not much was left for him to take home and he got a spanking.

  On the evening that Mikey was in his tree watching the cars go by, Baxter sat up on his haunches and growled at Popie. Popie did not see Mikey in the tree because he was too much of a coward to take his attention off Baxter. In a whisper, Mikey ordered Baxter not to even think of attacking the dog on the highway where he might get run over. Baxter did not look up at Mikey and Popie cocked his head as though he thought Baxter was the one who had whispered. He pranced stiff-leggedly toward Baxter with his head up and eyes bulging, scared to death. Baxter collapsed under the tree and sighed. Popie strutted closer to see if he could make Baxter run out on the highway after him.