Drowning Tucson (21 page)

Then he waited. He braced himself for the lightning that was sure to strike him down. He waited for the church floor to open up and devour him and hurl him into the pit of hell. Any minute a priest would come forward and start flicking holy water at him and then it would be all over. Mary avenged. God’s wrath satisfied.

But nothing happened. No one noticed. Not even the old woman praying at the back of the sanctuary. Staring at the life-sized crucifix hanging behind the altar, Jaime flipped his middle finger at it and mouthed fuck you. He turned around and left, slumping over a little bit so no one would notice Mary in his pants.

The traffic was heavy enough that no one paid attention to the slouching figure of Jaime as he left Our Mother of Sorrows and walked toward the park.

Jaime salvaged a few empty Coke cans from a trashbarrel and filled them with dirt. Using some twine he found tied around the base of a tree, he bound the dirt-filled cans to the feet of Mary and raised her above his head. He threw her as hard as he could into the pond where ducks split trails into the calm face of the water, bobbing for breadcrumbs. She hit the water and didn’t sink right away. Jaime was terrified. He thought maybe he was witnessing an act of God. What else could explain a floating statue?

But Mary finally sank and Jaime knew there was no turning back. He was committed. He had defied God and now he answered to no one except the voice inside him telling him you’re letting those fuckers get away clean. You’re letting them take away the only thing that ever mattered to you and you’re the one running. It should be THEM running. They should be the ones hiding from headlights behind cactus on the side of the highway. Jaime agreed with his inner voice, but he knew he would have his revenge in plenty of time. He walked to Floreria Gutierrez and asked the old man if he needed any help today watching the store, and Rudolfo thanked him and said yes, it would be nice for a change to be able to leave the store open for business while I make deliveries.

The old man trusted Jaime. He couldn’t explain it. Instead of doubting Jaime and his honesty, he decided to prove to himself that there were still good people left on the earth. He didn’t lock the register. He didn’t turn on the camera he’d installed all those years ago to deter robbers, something he had done religiously for the first three years until he figured out that no one thinks to rob a flower shop. He gave Jaime brief instructions on how to take orders for arrangements, showed him how to ring up merchandise, then left for his afternoon deliveries. He knew
this kid was special. This boy comes to me completely helpless, and I can give him some direction. He thought, I’m going to offer my place to him in exchange for his help at the store. Do a good deed, try to make a difference for once.

Jaime stood by the door, waiting for the delivery van to leave the parking lot. Once the van turned north, Jaime went behind the counter and sat in front of the register. I could just clean out this drawer, he thought, when he opened it and saw the cash inside. He shut it and sat for a moment, taking in the store’s details. The smell of so many different types of flowers was relaxing. Jaime wanted to take a nap, even though he’d only been awake for a few hours. Instead he poked around behind the counter, digging through paperwork and orders and stacks of receipts. Jaime kept searching beneath the counter, looking for scrap paper or a notepad. He couldn’t find any. All there was were old orders written in Señor Gutierrez’s meticulous handwriting and boxes full of unused order forms. Using one of the forms and a pen, he started scribbling frantic notes. Sierra Vista. Sammy. The Buena students. He listed the names of all the potential killers. He jotted down plots for revenge—sneak into the school with a gun and make his way to the gym and hold the students hostage until the murderers confess and then force them into the showers and shoot them up against the wall, firing-squad style; or he could go door-to-door, pretending to sell magazine subscriptions, until he found the houses where they lived, then he could ask to speak to the kid who lived there and when he came to the door, he’d shoot the bastard right there in the doorway, his mother crying out from the living room and Jaime laughing as he pumped bullet after bullet into Sammy’s killer. He flipped back and forth between order forms stained with harried ink. So caught up was he in his project, he ignored the phones and failed to hear Lavinía walk through the front door, standing in front of him with a look of confusion as she watched Jaime’s reckless scrawling. She couldn’t get his attention until she reached across the counter and grabbed his hand. Then he looked up.

Lavinía tilted her head to the side, saying what are you doing here? Did he give you a job? She looked around the shop. Not a bad gig.

Jaime shook his head and stacked the order forms into a neat pile, then slid them beneath the counter. Just watching the place for Señor Gutierrez. He’s off doing deliveries or something. Not sure whether or not I have a job, but I think the guy could use a little help around here, so I’m going to hit him up and see if he’ll let me wash the windows or something.

Lavinía nodded, looking around at the tables and coolers overflowing with flowers. Look, today at school I was thinking about what we could tell the Kings if you run into them. First I was going to introduce you as an old friend. But they might not buy that.

True.

Anyway, I thought we’d just wait a little longer. You know, no reason to make things more complicated than they have to be. I just figured you would eventually want to get out from behind those dumpsters. You can’t stay there forever. You’re too nice to be sleeping in an alley like some kinda bum.

They both laughed. Jaime shook his head and told her that mattress is probably the closest I’m going to get to sex around here anyway.

Eww. I’m probably one of the only girls here who hasn’t slept on it—and no, Jaime, I’m not going to let you talk me into joining you behind McDonald’s. That’s, like, super trashy.

This was the first opportunity for Jaime to test the waters in this neighborhood. He wondered what Lavinía would think if he told her he was gay. He could pretend to be sad because she would never sleep with him, or he could take the plunge and let his secret out. He braced himself and said, Lavinía, don’t get me wrong. I think you’re cute. Truly. But if you slept next to me on that mattress, the only action you’d be getting would have to be from someone who wandered past. I’m not interested.

Not interested. In this? She smirked and turned around, poking her butt toward him and shaking it slowly in her tight jeans. She licked her finger and made a sizzling sound when she touched it to her thigh. Everybody wants a piece of this, baby. She giggled. I didn’t mean to tease you.

Seriously. It’s fine. I’m not interested in girls. Women. I … how can I say this?

So, you’re gay? Like a
real
gay? Seriously, if I got naked, you wouldn’t want to touch me? She leaned over the counter toward him. He didn’t move. He didn’t look down her shirt like every other guy she’d met. He held her gaze. Maybe he was telling the truth.

Yes. I’m a real gay. I don’t like girls.

Lavinía leaned lower, her breasts almost touching the counter. She looked into Jaime’s eyes and pulled her shirt down, dramatically, painfully slow. Jaime looked completely unimpressed.

That, said Lavinía, was one of the most amazing things I’ve ever seen. Guys practically break their necks to look at me. Sometimes I forget and I bend to pick something up. Next thing you know, people whistle or walk up behind me and grab my ass. I’ve even caught my teachers looking down my shirts, or up my skirt. It gets old, actually. I hate it.

I understand. Well, not that people look at me and want to have sex with me, but you know what I mean.

Yeah. She took a step back and looked at Jaime again, examining his features. His clothing. Looking for some sort of telltale sign that he was indeed gay. She squinted her eyes. Peered hard at his face. You really
are
gay. That’s too much.

Yep. A real gay. Queer as a three-dollar bill, as my dad always said. Anyway, just thought you should know. I won’t be one of the guys chasing you. But please keep it to yourself.

Well, I like you. You’re pretty cool for a guy. Different, you know? Not like the ones around here. They’re too macho. Always strutting and showing off. My two friends Rosa and Rosa love it though. They walk around here all the time and flirt with the guys. They’re kind of slutty, but they’re my friends, you know? I think both of them have even been on that mattress of yours.

That’s nasty. Jaime pretended to throw up. They both laughed.

But if I
had
to pick one guy around here, it would probably be Ricardo. He was Felipe’s best friend. Felipe was the one, though. He was so romantic. You could just see it in his eyes. Smart. Sexy. He had everything you could ask for in a man.

Jaime frowned. So why don’t you ask him out?

Lavinía looked away, toward the window and the traffic outside. He’s dead. Remember? He’s the one I told you about the other day. Brothers killed him. I don’t like talking about it. She walked to the front door, then turned back to Jaime. Anyway, your secret’s safe with me. But whatever happens, we can’t let the guys around here find out. It’ll make your life hell. She waved and walked outside.

My life’s already hell, Jaime thought.

As the days passed, Jaime fell into a routine. Each morning he shared a cigarette with Lavinía, who stopped by the dumpsters on her way to school, then he went to work for Rudolfo Gutierrez, arranging flowers, taking orders, stocking shipments. Lavinía stopped by after school to share another cigarette and they stepped behind the store to smoke while she filled Jaime in on all the latest gossip. In the evenings Señor Gutierrez invited him for dinner and then the two would talk late into the night about flowers and horticulture. Señor Gutierrez always offered Jaime a place to sleep, and for the first few days Jaime didn’t accept, content to sleep between the McDonald’s dumpsters on the mattress. Since the restaurant closed at ten, everyone usually cleared out by eleven and the alley was dead. And even when people did walk by, they couldn’t see him unless they knew he was there. The fence on either side of the dumpsters saw to that. So he declined Señor Gutierrez’s offer.

One of the main reasons Jaime hadn’t stayed at Señor Gutierrez’s was because he looked forward to his morning cigarette with Lavinía. He had always liked the smell of smoke. It was pungent, but something beneath it hinted at sweetness and mystery. He’d never smoked, though, before Lavinía. The pain of his first drag from her cigarette was almost unbearable. His lungs had heaved in rejection of the smoke. But Jaime had been patient and soon enough he was thoroughly enjoying each hit off of the daily cigarettes she brought for him. She taught him how to blow smoke rings and how to inhale through his nose. She taught him tricks with her lighter—how to throw a ball of butane fire, how to open bottles.

He told her about the offer Señor Gutierrez made to him—a place to stay and meals, plus a small weekly sum of a hundred dollars cash.
She suggested Jaime take him up on his offer. I mean, you haven’t found anywhere else offering work
and
food, have you? He shook his head. You know, Gutierrez is quiet, keeps to himself. I’ve heard my mom talk about how lonely he is. I think you could both use the company. You don’t expect to stay here on this mattress forever, do you?

He shook his head again, considering her point. She’s right. I am alone. I’m just as lonely as the old man. He’d gotten comfortable around the harmless Señor Gutierrez. But there was something else. Something in the way the old man’s fingers sometimes probed at the soft flesh sagging below his left eye. Whenever he did this, his eyes would widen, as if he were witnessing some horrifying scene.

That’s it, Jaime thought. He’s got some dark secret too. Something he’s running from. What’s he scared of?

Jaime had been so involved with his plan for revenge that he’d failed to notice the man with whom he spent most of his days was harboring deep pain too. Maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea to take him up on his offer. He decided to accept.