Drowning Tucson (4 page)

They walked across the street holding hands, and most of the women they passed whistled and said you go girl. Felipe blushed, thinking they were making fun of him, a little embarrassed at all the attention being drawn to him, but he was also proud he had gotten a hot girl so easily. Already he had forgotten the shame he had felt for being kicked out of the Swank.

Rainbow stopped outside the office of the No-Tel Motel and told him to wait. She went in and came back out a moment later with a room key twirling around her finger. This way, cowboy. He really liked her. Not only was she sexy, she also made him feel good, the way she approached him and talked to him on the same level, as if they were equals.

In the hotel room, Rainbow spoke in a whisper. She went immediately to the bed, clicked on the lamp, and asked him for a cigarette. He handed her his whole pack. You can have as many as you want. Thank you, sweetie. He felt himself blushing but figured the room was dim enough to cover his redness. He sat down on the edge of the bed, giving Rainbow her space, not wanting to rush anything, and asked if she wanted to watch TV or something. She laughed. If you want. It’s your dime. Now that they were in a hotel room together, he noticed Rainbow smelled liked overripe berries. Almost too sweet.

I’ll tell you what. You figure out what you want, she flipped her ash, and I’ll get ready. In his line of peripheral vision, he saw her legs open, and he turned to get a better look. She had her head on the pillow, turned away from the lamp, her cigarette in her left hand and her right hand holding her skirt up to her waist. She was naked beneath it. Felipe’s mouth dropped open, and the smoke he forgot to inhale rolled out of his mouth and drifted up into his eyes. They burned, but he didn’t close them. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing, this chick fingering herself and we just met. A man could get used to this.

She licked her lips. Took a drag off her cigarette. So, what would you like? You want me to blow you? Fifty bucks. You want anal? Two
hundred. If you just want to watch, thirty bucks. If you want something freaky, the price goes up.

The bitch. He already had his dick halfway out of his pants, and he didn’t have more than ten bucks in his pocket. And some change. He never imagined they charged so much. But he was all worked up now so he thought fuck it. Enjoy it while it lasts.

He walked toward her with his joint in his hand and smiled. He touched her leg. She was so soft. He closed his eyes.

Well? What’ll it be? I need to see money before we can get down to it. You do have money?

He nodded, hoping that would be enough for her to continue. Felt her breath on his chest. She smelled too good. Almost nauseating with her sweetness.

Show me. Show me your money and we’ll talk. She grabbed his ass and pulled him to her. Where is it?

He felt her wonderful tits against his stomach as he stood next to her. His pants had slid down to his knees, and he bent over to pull them up so he could dig in the pockets for his money. He fumbled around, trying not to break contact with this beautiful woman. He found the change and began to pull it out when she surprised him by grabbing his cock and stroking it, and he dropped the change on the floor where it jingled against the linoleum, and Rainbow stopped stroking and looked down, then back at him, is this supposed to be funny? flinging his cock from her hand as if she had accidentally picked up a roach, tell me you have money, and he watched as she seemed to transform in front of him, pulling her skirt down and grabbing her purse before he realized he’d fucked up big, you think these goddam hotel rooms pay for themselves, I mean WHATTHAFUCK, and she opened her purse and pulled out a can of mace and sprayed it into his eyes and he screamed and tore at his face, scratching his eyes and cheeks while Rainbow gathered her things and told him beat it, you fuck, before you get in deeper shit, kicking and punching him and hitting him with her bag, I shoulda known a little fuckin punk kid like you, cursing and punching him the whole time she pulled him to the door and threw him out on the pavement, kicking him in the ass as hard as she could for good measure, shouting DON’T bring
your little cock back to Miracle Mile if you can’t afford it, and she slammed the door behind him.

Felipe lay on the ground, writhing in pain. His crotch was sore. His eyes were burning. His ass still felt the intense stab from her kick. All he could do was roll in front of the hotel room, too sore to pull his pants back up.

When the pain finally subsided to a dull ache, he fastened his jeans and stumbled down the street humiliated, ignoring the women jeering at him and the cars honking and the obnoxious lights everywhere. The sting from the mace still blurred his vision, so he walked away from the sounds of the women yelling and laughing, extending his hands in front of him to avoid bumping into anything and taking careful steps to be sure he was on the sidewalk and not wandering into traffic.

Eventually the sounds of Miracle Mile faded away, and his vision improved. He still had no idea where he was, but he knew he wanted to hide. The name Nuñez meant nothing on Miracle Mile. He only knew the Kings and 24th Street, but he had failed there, too. He had run away like a coward, and they would never take him back. They couldn’t. It was his destiny, and he had turned his back on it.

Lightning flashed across the sky. I just need to find a place to lie down where no one will find me. He walked faster, feeling an occasional drop of rain splashing on his arms. He saw an overpass ahead, and he ran to it as the rain began to fall harder. He scaled the cement slope leading up to the overpass and when he reached the top, he wedged his body between the cement beneath him and the warm road above, feeling safe for the first time that day. For now he was protected from the rain, and at least that was something.

Across Tucson animals scurried into hiding beneath wastebins. They ran into the doorways of homes. By the time the flashflood broke, the animals carried on in such a way—trying to claw their way through the walls of homes, overflowing from beneath the lids of dumpsters, packing themselves into the wheel wells of cars—that five minutes later not one could be seen roaming the streets. Mothers plucked up their children from their beds and rocked them silently, shushing them, more
nervous than the confused children who seemed to know that now was not the time to question their mothers’ motives. The walls of houses shook, fighting against the storm’s wrath. It sounded as if all the oceans of the world had been lifted above this city in the middle of the desert and been dropped at once. Trailers were lifted from their foundations on the outskirts of town. Gullies and washes overflowed. Cars were swept away. By the time the storm had ceased thirty minutes later, the sides of hills had been sloughed off and semis lay overturned on the highway.

And then it was over. There was mud in the streets one minute, and the next minute the desert had opened its mouth and sucked up every last drop of moisture. There was no water to show for it. People told themselves that semis always overturn and drift down the road, and that occasionally homes leave their foundations in search of a place to fall on their sides and expire.

Señora Nuñez sat in her rocking chair listening to the storm, wondering if her son was safe. She lit candles to the Virgin and prayed for his swift return. Then she crossed herself and crawled back to bed on her knees.

Felipe awoke the next morning more tired than when he had fallen asleep. His eyes were dry and scratchy from the mace. His body ached all over. The cement beneath him and the cool shade of the overpass made him think it was cooler outside than it actually was. He lay there, registering his various wounds. Nothing serious. A couple of scratches and some soreness. The worst damage had been done to his ego, but he didn’t have time to think about that now. His stomach felt like it was digesting itself, and he needed to eat. He hadn’t had a meal since breakfast the morning before. Chorizo and eggs sounded good. All he had to do was find a taqueria and he’d be set. Then he remembered he had dropped his money on the hotel floor right before Rainbow attacked him. Slut. She could’ve at least let me grab my change before hauling off and kicking my ass like that. If the boys only knew he’d gotten beat up by a woman. Hey, I got caught with my cock in my hand.

Now that he was fully awake, he realized he had some decisions to make. He had no ID, so he couldn’t get work. He had no money, so he
couldn’t eat. He was beaten before he had even started. It was bad planning, taking off from school like an idiot. He knew he had no choice but to go home. That terrified him more than anything. If he had never expressed interest in the Kings, then they wouldn’t have cared if he decided not to join them. But they had let him into their circle. He had shared in the benefits and now he had to do his time. Goddam, and I went along without even questioning it. He didn’t want to think about it, so he began walking north until he came to a street he recognized. Still unsure of exactly where he was, Felipe stopped at a 7-Eleven and asked for directions back to Reid Park. On his way out, he swiped a bag of chips and a pack of Parliaments.

Three hours later the pack was half gone, but he was only a couple miles from home, so instead of smoking he slowed his pace and thought of excuses to tell the Kings when they came looking for him.

Guys. I’m sorry. I got sunstroke or something and went out of my head.

Jesus, that was lame.

There was a rumor that you had been rounded up and arrested.

Nope. If that were true, he would have gotten a call from home or one of his brothers would have picked him up. He was so consumed with excuses he didn’t notice a school bus drive by full of kids from Mansfield. They pointed, unable to believe he was back.

Okay, Peanut. Rogelio. Chuy. Davíd. You have to believe me. I thought instead of the usual assbeating, I would sneak onto someone else’s turf—the Crips or something—and I was gonna off one of those niggers and tag him. You know, let those bastards know the Kings are here to stay and you cannot fuck with us. It could work, except that he had done nothing. He had nothing to show for his night away except some bruises.

Then he thought about his mother and how maybe he could just go home and she’d step in between him and his brothers like she’d done with his father and she’d let him sleep with her in her bed where he could hide, except that wouldn’t work because he’d eventually have to go to the bathroom or something and so he’d have to leave her side, and they’d be waiting to drag him out the back door, or the food would run
out so his mother would have to go to Food Giant, and if he went with her they’d pick him off, holding her at a distance while they punished him for backing down.

GODDAMMIT. Why can’t I just tell them the truth? How about, FUCK Peanut and the Kings? Okay? I was scared. This isn’t for me. I just want to be normal. Lay girls. Buy a car. Flip burgers. I don’t want to be scared the rest of my life. That’s not how a man lives. I want to do things I can be proud of one day. I don’t want that stupid tattoo on my neck that proves I’m stone cold. Just leave me alone.

Hey, Felipe. Ricardo ran up to him. Man, why’d you come back? We all thought you were gone for good, and I was so happy for you. I thought you’d finally figured shit out, and now you’re back and everybody knows. And the Kings are pissed royal.

I know.

You should’ve stayed gone. You know you disrespected your brothers and everything. Hurry up and leave, man. It’s not too late.

I can’t.

Felipe was too tired. He couldn’t run because there was nowhere to go. 24th Street was engrained in him. He hugged Ricardo and asked will you just keep me company?

Together they walked past the park and toward Torchy’s, where a crowd of people stood waiting. Ricardo walked beside him, trying to stay strong for his best friend.

They walked in silence for the last few steps that separated them from the group, and right before Felipe stepped forward, Ricardo grabbed his hand and held it, just for a second. Then he let it drop and took a step back. The crowd closed in.

Felipe stood with his back straight and his hands at his sides, facing his brothers. He knew they had to throw the first punches. That’s how it worked. Another test for the Nuñez boys. No one spoke. Felipe scanned the crowd and saw Helena and the two Rosas hugging Lavinía while she lowered her head and cried, unable to watch. He looked each person in the eyes, standing his ground, and spoke two words. I’m ready.