Muerte Con Carne (8 page)

Not really the answer he was looking for. She could have said worse, he supposed. But now there was that awkwardness. He said it to her and she didn’t acknowledge it.

Don’t think about it, he thought. She’s going to know how much you love her when you propose anyway.

Felix splashed some water into his face, then exited the bathroom. Marta lay on the bed, still naked, and smiled at him. She motioned for him to come to her with her finger.

“That was incredible,” she said.

Felix sat beside her, his back resting against the wall. He leaned over and kissed her. “Yes it was.”

“As much as I want to just lay here and screw all day, we do have a lot to go over before tonight. You okay with that?” Now she sat up, hugged her knees.

“Yeah, I think it would be a good idea. Like I told you before, I don’t really know the details.”

“Did you bring the camera?”

“It’s back in my room. The laptop too. Want me to get it?”

She rolled her eyes. “Nah, we don’t need them really. Yes go get them!”

When he stood, she reached over and slapped his ass, then giggled and chewed on her thumb nail. Felix quickly pulled some clothes on and stepped outside.

As he strolled down the hall toward his room, he noticed the motel clerk standing just outside his office smoking a cigarette. The fat man glared up at Felix with pinched eyes, and the smile that stretched across his face stopped Felix in his tracks. It was a smile with something behind it, the way his eyes sparkled and his head bobbed just slightly.

This son of a bitch was watching. Got cameras in the rooms or something.

“Enjoying your stay?” the man said as he stomped out his cigarette. He held another strip of jerky in his other hand, the tip already soggy and chewed on, and stuck it between his teeth. “Can I offer you some fresh towels?”

“You watch yourself, asshole. You hear me? I find anything in my room, and I’ll have your ass.” Felix stepped toward the metal banister, gripped it hard with both hands as he glared at the fat slob of a man beneath him.

The man put both hands up, that fucking grin still plastered on his face. “Haven’t the foggiest of what you’re talkin’ about, sir. Just wanna make sure my guests are comfortable.”

And with that, the man chuckled and walked out of sight, the jingling bell telling Felix he’d gone back into the office.

“Fucking asshole,” Felix muttered as he entered his room.

He had forgotten about the puke, and he stepped right into it. The top layer had dried considerably, but as he stepped on it, his foot sunk in, nearly making him slip. The smell hit him like a bazooka blast, and he gagged, lifted the bottom of his t-shirt and covered his mouth and nose. The laptop bag lay beside his duffel, and he grabbed both as quickly as he could, then darted out of the room, slammed the door behind him, took a long, deep breath of hot, arid oxygen.

He hoped the pig behind the counter enjoyed cleaning that shit up.

Felix stopped outside of Marta’s door for a second.
She still didn’t acknowledge what I said to her.
The ring lay beneath his clothes in the bag, and he wondered if maybe now was the time. Maybe he should walk right in there, pretend like he was taking out the camera, but he’d take the ring out instead, and right then and there he would ask her.

Yes. She’s in a good moon, the time is now.

His body shook as he entered the room. She wore a Hello Kitty shirt and her panties, and she smiled wide when he shut the door behind him.

“I missed you,” she said.

“Yeah…uh, me too.”

Her forehead wrinkled up. “What’s the matter?”

“Huh? Oh, nothing. Had a little run-in with the clerk, though. I swear that motherfucker was watching us somehow. Had this smile on him…I don’t know.”

Her mouth arched. “Ugh. That’s disturbing.” She eyed the walls, then lifted her shirt and flashed her breasts. “Like what you see, you pig fucker?”

“Marta, come on.”

She laughed, rolled her eyes. “So, let me see it. You told me about it, but I never got to see the thing.”

Felix was on his knee. Just beside the bed. Marta scooted across the mattress so she was looking down on him. He reached into the bag, fingers shaking. His throat dried up, and he tried to swallow but couldn’t.

Do it, you fucking pussy.

His hand wrapped around the box containing the cross pendant, and he zipped the bag back up. I am a complete coward, he thought. He got off his knee and sat beside Marta, his heart slamming against his ribs like it was trying to escape his chest.

“Let me see.” Marta grabbed the box, opened it. “Wow…it’s hideous.”

Felix tried to hide his shaking hands, but Marta saw them.

“What’s the matter?”

“It’s just…that fucker really pissed me off. The clerk, you know?”

She nodded, but glared at him suspiciously. “So, you want me to wear this thing?”

“Come on, it’s not that bad, is it?”

She turned the gray, metal cross over, as big as her hand. “It’s fucking ugly.” She smiled. “But if we run into any Mexican vampires, I’ll be able to protect us I guess.”

“Look, it’s all I could find. No diamond encrusted hidden camera pendants available.”

She pulled the necklace over her head, and Felix lifted her hair for her. Her fingertip ran across the metal surface. “It is pretty neat, though. Can’t tell there’s a camera in there at all.”

“And it was damn expensive too, so it better work. It’s pretty damn cool, check it out.” He pulled the wireless USB plug from the box, lifted his laptop from the bag and fired it up. “See, it’s all wireless. The video you shoot will be recorded straight into my laptop. There’s a tiny button on the bottom of the cross there.”

Marta fondled it, and suddenly Felix’s face filled the monitor. “Wow, look at that. The quality’s pretty good too.” She turned her chest from left to right and studied the screen.

“Top of the line is what the man I bought it from told me. If you hit the button again, it’ll stop the video and save the file to my laptop. If not, it’ll record in ten minute increments and automatically save it until you shut it off.”

“Hey,” she said, pointing the cross at Felix. “You staring at my tits?”

Felix threw his hands in the air. “Well, tell me what you think, will you?”

“It’s perfect. Really it is, even better than I thought it would be.” She walked around the room, repeatedly checking the monitor to see what she was filming.

“Can I ask you something?” Felix said.

“Mmm hmm.”

“What happens if you get caught and the first thing they do is take the necklace? Wouldn’t the whole thing be pointless then?”

“What do you mean pointless?”

Her tone had deepened, and Felix threw his hands up to shoulder level. “I only mean that the whole point of this is to document what happens, right? Catch some footage? If they take the camera, what have we got?”

“I won’t let them take it.” She hit the button and sat on the edge of the bed, fondling the gold chain of the necklace.

“Okay, but let’s say they take it anyway. Don’t you think it would be a good idea to have some kind of identification on us? Just in case? We would only show it to them if they confiscate the camera, that way we can leave, try again later.”

She pursed her lips, ran her fingers through her hair, tossed it back to reveal her face. An obvious forced smile barely pulled at the corners of her mouth, and she reached over, patted Felix on the leg. “Let’s talk about the plan, all right?”

Felix sighed, nodded.

“I’ve been doing a lot of research, looking at some maps. I found a good spot close to here that looks perfect. I say we head out there today, just check it out while the sun is still up. Get a feel for the area.”

“Okay…yeah.”
This is insane…this is fucking crazy.

“Then tonight, we head out on foot. Could be a long walk, couple of hours maybe, but not too bad.”

“And once we’re out there, then what?”

“I was just about to say, Felix. We just walk along the border, keep our eyes and ears open. We’re hoping for two things. First, if we see La Migra, we run, make it look like we’re running from the border, right?”

“What about the cartel? Have you thought about them at all?”

“Don’t get paranoid on me, man. Cartel? You’ve been watching too much TV.”

“Yeah, it’s called the news. It’s a very real danger, Marta. I just think we need to keep an eye out for anything, don’t you?”

She sort of chuckled, stared up at the ceiling. “Okay. You see any of the big bad cartel, and we’ll run and hide. Okay? Because they’ll have a big neon fucking sign on their chests that says cartel on it.”

“Don’t get childish. We’re putting ourselves in danger, and all I’m saying is we should be careful. For anything.”

She crossed her arms, looked like she was chewing the side of her cheek.

“Okay then, what else are we hoping for?” Felix said.

“Illegals. Actual illegals crossing over. We can talk to them, interview them.”

“I don’t know shit for Spanish.”

“Then you just fucking stand there while I do the talking, all right? And if anyone asks you any questions, you just nod or shake your head. Play dumb. It won’t be that hard.” She stood, paced the room.

Felix clenched his teeth as he watched her, didn’t say a word. He could see her taking deep breaths, her lips sticking out as she exhaled. Then she faced him.

“I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be an asshole. I really don’t, Felix. My stress level is about through the roof right now. I…I just want…” Tears trickled from her eyes, but she quickly wiped them away. She grabbed her bag from the floor, rifled through it. “These are my parents,” she said as she took a seat beside Felix, set the framed photograph in his lap. “I didn’t plan on bringing that, but at the last second, I don’t know…I went back and grabbed it.”

Felix smiled. “You look like your father.”

Marta slapped him on the arm. “Thanks, dick.”

“Not in a bad way. You have your mother’s smile for sure, but I don’t know…you’ve got your father’s intensity. That face,” Felix said pointing to the Mexican man’s austere expression, “is the face you give me most of the time.”

Marta chuckled, gently took the photograph back. “It’s weird. I don’t remember them really, just flashes of images in my head that I don’t even know are real or not. But I miss them. It hurts how bad I miss them. Is that crazy?”

“Not at all.”

They sat there for a few minutes, just staring down at the photo. Felix leaned over, checked the time at the bottom corner of the laptop’s monitor. “Damn, we’ve been in here for almost three hours.”

“And that’s a bad thing?”

Felix’s stomach rumbled. “Of course not. I was just thinking maybe I can score us some more tacos, fill our bellies before we head out and check out this spot of yours.”

Her face lit up. “That’s the best idea you’ve had all day.”

“Really? The food’s the best idea?”

She raised an eyebrow. “Yep. You were good, but you ain’t got shit on those tacos.”

Marta wanted to try something different from the trailer this time, told Felix to surprise her. She told him how to get there and he started toward the door.

“Wait,” she said. And jogged across the room just to kiss him goodbye. “Hurry.”

***

There was only a small amount of meat left, and Alma made them each a plate. They sat at the table, Cristobal sipping on a Tecate between bites. He licked his fingers and watched Alma sloppily stuff stringy meat strips into her mouth.

“I’m sorry. Okay? But I don’t know how many fuckin’ times I gotta tell you, Alma.” Cristobal hadn’t hit her that hard, had held back on purpose, but he still let her know she was out of line. “You have to control yourself…especially at home. I’m serious.”
If Mamá ever found out…

“I know,” she said, and took another large bite. “I will. I’m sorry.”

Cristobal reached across the table and grabbed her wrist. She dropped her plastic fork and a dollop of greasy meat plopped into her lap. She bared her teeth, tried to pull away, but Cristobal squeezed until she was still.

“What happened was a mistake. You understand that shit? A fuckin’ mistake. Get that shit through your ugly fuckin’ head. That?” He pointed to her belly. “That shit ain’t right. You know it ain’t right. You think I’m just gonna sit back and let you have it? If that baby makes it out of you I’ll kill it. You hear me, Alma? I’ll fuckin’ kill it before it has a chance to take its first breath. Mamá can’t know-”

“She won’t, Cristobal. I’ll just tell her I met someone…a customer. Anybody. But not you. She’ll never know it was you. How will she know?”

“She’ll know. Mamá will know.”

Alma shook her head, grimacing at the growing pressure around her wrist. “I want my baby. It’s mine. You can’t stop me from having my baby. Our-”

“You shut the fuck up! Don’t you fuckin’ say it.”

“Let me go.
Let me go!
” She picked up her fork with her free hand and stabbed him in the arm. The plastic broke on impact, but it pinched enough that Cristobal released her.

“You fuckin’ bitch.
Stupid fuckin’ whore!
”

“Hey!”

Cristobal paused, his hands halfway across the table. Alma stood, stepped away from him, rubbed her wrist and glared at the tall Hispanic man walking toward them.

Cristobal launched himself to his feet, curled his hands into fists, and stomped toward the stranger. “What the fuck did you say, ese?”

“Why don’t you just calm down, okay? She’s pregnant, man. You’re gonna beat on your pregnant wife?”

Cristobal’s eye twitched as he continued taking steps toward this man. The closer he got to him, the more fear he could see on the guy’s face. “Wife? That’s my sister, pinche pendejo. What the fuck you tryin’ to say?”

“Okay, your sister. It doesn’t…I’m not trying to say anything, man. Just calm down.”

Cristobal thrust his head forward, catching the man on the bridge of the nose with his forehead.

“Fuuuck!”

The man fell backward, clutching his nose with both hands as blood ran down from between his fingers. Alma stepped up beside Cristobal, hugged him from the side.