Thirteen Senses (26 page)

Hearing this, it was now Lupe who didn't dare take her eyes off of Salvador. No, she held, watching his eyes and every move.

“And,” asked Lupe, refusing to shy away, “who are these people that you did a favor for?”

“Chinese,” he said.

“Chinese?!?” she repeated, looking totally surprised. “But how in God's name do you owe these people a favor, Salvador! All my life
mi mama
told us girls to be wary of the Chinese men because they come and trick a family out of their daughters, marry them, then work them to death like slaves!”

Salvador nodded. “And I'm sure that this is true, Lupe, because the Chinese are a hard people, but they've also had it very hard here in this country.”

“So have we, but our men don't enslave their wives!” said Lupe. Oh, she was really upset.

“Lupe, Lupe,” said Salvador, “please calm down and listen closely; your mother is a fine woman, but she doesn't know the whole story. You see, the Americans here in this country, they brought over the Chinese men by the thousands to build the railroad, but they weren't allowed to bring over any women with them. Then once they were through with these men, they just threw them out like dogs! And they didn't do this to the Greeks and other people. Why, even the Blacks,
los Negros,
were treated better than the Chinese,” he added, repeating Kenny's words. “At least they brought them over with their women.”

Lupe moistened her lips, never taking her eyes off Salvador. This was so different than she'd been taught to think. And she wanted to ask him so many questions about the rumors that he was a bootlegger, but what popped out of her mouth next, even took her by surprise.

“And . . . and did these Chinese pay you for this favor that you did for them?” asked Lupe.

Hearing this question, Salvador burst out laughing. Never in a million years would he have expected this. “Yes,” he said, between
carcajadas
of laughter, “they paid me.”

“How much?” she asked.

Well, this next question sent Salvador rolling to the floor with laughter, kicking and yelling and holding his stomach. Oh, Lupe was tough! This young, innocent bride of his really got down to the nitty-gritty no matter how frightened she was. And
pronto,
too!

“Don't you dare laugh at me!” she yelled. “You did it! It's over! So now I want to know how much!”

“Five hundred dollars!” he said.

“Five hundred!” she screamed. “Oh, my God, Salvador! That's more money than I ever heard of! What was this favor?” she asked, suddenly remembering the young man that she'd seen at Luisa's house with the gun sticking out of his back pocket. He'd reeked of violence, and yet he'd looked so at ease. “You weren't hired to ... to kill someone”—she swallowed— “were you, Salvador?”

And here she held, heart in mouth, hoping to God that she hadn't married a murderer on top of all these rumors. Because she'd then have to leave this man immediately! No two ways about it. For she would not bring children into the world where the Devil was part of their lives.

Salvador took a deep breath and looked at this young, beautiful bride of his, and he saw her fear, her absolute terror, and yet she'd had the guts to ask this biggest of all questions. He breathed again. This was a woman who could stand up and speak her mind no matter what.

He'd won the prize when he'd married this young woman before him.

“No,
querida,”
he finally said calmly, “I didn't kill anyone. That wasn't my job. My job was to smuggle a Chinese doctor into the United States. It was an emergency, you see. This man's wife had died and his daughter is sick now, too. There's a sickness going on in Chinatown and they can't go to the authorities, because, well, the
gringos
are always just itching—I don't know why—for any excuse to come in burning and killing the Chinese like they've done in the past few years to almost every Chinatown all over the West.”

“Then you were hired to smuggle in a doctor so he could help his people?”

“Yes, and in the past I've smuggled in many mothers and their daughters. I'm that smuggler that Archie spoke about at Long Beach when we were eating Chinese food. There's a big price on my head.”

“I see,” she said, and he could see the wheels turning inside of her head. Oh, she was tough, but also, she was really kind of hooked on the idea of the money he was bringing home. “And Archie doesn't know?”

“Not about my Chinese smuggling, but about my other kind of jobs, yes,” said he.

She nodded. She was really trying to understand.

“Also,” he added, reeling her in a little tighter, “I'd like you to know,
querida,
that I'd never take a job to kill anyone for any amount of money. Life is sacred, and so to take a life in cold blood is the greatest of all sins.”

Hearing these words, tears came to Lupe's eyes, because she'd been raised the same way; to take a life
con sangre fria,
in cold blood, was the greatest of all sins. Only in hot blood, meaning self-defense or in the heat of battle, was taking a human life not the worst of sins.

“Then,” said Lupe, “there is, also, no other woman?”

This last question, made Salvador's whole heart leap into his throat. “Oh, Lupe,” he said, now understanding the entire situation, “of course not. There's only you! I've been driving all this time. I've been—oh,
querida,”
he said, taking her in his arms, “don't you know? You are my heart, my soul, my love! There's no one else! And this time, Lupe, when I got in trouble, oh, I could feel your love coming to me! You were right, it wasn't the
quesadillas
that gave you that stomach pain last time, it was your feelings for me—and this time I could feel your prayers coming to help me, and a great peace came to me from you!”

“I was praying so hard for you, Salvador, so hard!” she said, crying all the more. “It hurt me here inside so much again as I prayed, because I just knew you were in danger once again!”

“I know! I know!”

“You could've called, Salvador.”

“Called?” he said. “But how?”

“On the phone.”

“But Lupe,” he said, “we don't have a telephone.”

“No, we don't,” she said. “But Eisner's little market down the street has a phone.”

Salvador pulled his head away from Lupe and stared at her as if she'd just spoken the most fantastic thing that he'd ever heard. “Why, I guess you're right, Lupe, a person could do that,” he said. “My God, I'd never thought of that. A telephone call. That's incredible. But hey, just wait, I don't know the market's number.”

“You could've asked ‘Information.' “

“ ‘Information,' what's that?”

“The operator, you know, when you call zero, she can give you the information of any number you want.”

“Even in another town?”

“Yes, she connects you to the operator in that other town,” said Lupe.

“Really? I didn't know that. I'll be!” said Salvador. “What will they think of next?!”

“Then you'll call me next time?” she asked.

“Yes, of course,” he said. “I don't like you being worried,
querida.
You see, when I left that morning, I really thought that, well, I'd only be gone a few hours. I was just going over to Lake Elsinore to check on a job. Then Luisa's husband, Epitacio, told me that my mother had to see
me, pronto!
And when I drove over to Corona, she told me that this Chinese restaurant owner from Hanford had come by looking for me, saying it was urgent, and he'd be in San Bernardino's Chinatown waiting for me.”

“Then your mother knew that you'd be gone for days?”

“No, I never went back to tell her, either. I had to immediately go down to Mexicali.”

“Then your mother still doesn't know what happened, either?” said Lupe.

Salvador nodded.

“Well, don't you think she's killing herself with worry?”

Salvador burst out laughing. “My mother worry,” he said. “Oh, no, the Stars in the Heavens will worry first! My mother never worries or panics over anything. God is her constant Companion! In fact, it's often God, Himself, who comes to her for advice—she tells us. But, of course, not directly. God, like all males, always likes to send His wife, the Virgin
Maria
in His behalf to speak to
nuestra madre
when He's uncomfortable.”

“God can be uncomfortable?” asked Lupe.

“Well, yes, of course,” he said. “Why do you think that Creation even exists. It's God, all God, a'growing as we grow, a'learning as we learn, that's why we have freewill. That's why we went out of the Garden, to help the Holy Creator.”

“Salvador!” snapped Lupe, feeling that they were talking blasphemy. “We left the Garden of Eden to help God?”

“Sure,” said Salvador, “this is why He created us in His image.”

She swallowed. She held, breathing and swallowing. “Tell me,” she said, “who told you all this? Certainly not a priest.”

“No, of course not. My mother told me all this.”

Lupe's heart went racing now. Not just pounding. This was so contradicting to everything she'd ever been taught. “And your mother, she also says that God . . . Himself, comes to her for advice?”

“But of course, Lupe. He's male, isn't He? Why do you think He got together with
Maria
to have Jesus? Certainly, He could've made Jesus out of nothing, if He'd so chose. No, God has been a male for some time now, and so that's why He comes to my mother for advice—and then ends up owing her a favor now and then.”

“God owes your mother favors now and then,” repeated Lupe, feeling so stunned that she could now feel herself going numb. She had to grip the table to steady herself. Her head just couldn't take anymore.

Salvador nodded. “Sure. How do you think we got across the Rio Grande at El Paso? God owes favors to every woman who's ever given birth and built a nest.”

“You mean, that your mother parted the sea like Moses?” said Lupe.

“Oh, no,” said Salvador laughing, “the Rio Grande is only knee deep in most places, so you can just walk across. What
mi mama
did was part all of the
gringos'
hearts—which is, of course, much harder to do than parting water. Every night, the
gringos
put huge alligators in the river to stop our
gente
from crossing, and that night they didn't.”

He could see Lupe's eyes had glossed over, she was so lost.

“Look,” he said, “you don't need to worry, Lupe, this male part of God is soon ending, and He then goes back to being a woman once again. Ask
mi mama,
she'll explain to you how it all works. God is hard like a man to leap us ahead, then soft like a woman to gift us wisdom. It works in cycles, see, like the day and the night, no big mystery.”

“Your mother told you all this?” asked Lupe.

“Of course,” said Salvador. “Ever since I can remember. And her father told her. You see, Creation works in fifty-two thousand year cycles. And thirteen is the sacred number, going into fifty-two four times, just like the four seasons of the year. And in order to keep balance, the Torch of Light has to go from male to female, then from female back to male within a
familia
just as it is with
Papito Dios,
Who's both sexes at the same time.”

Lupe nodded, and she nodded again. Before, she would've thought that all this was blasphemy, or she would've laughed, thinking that Salvador was just being ridiculous.

But now that she'd met Salvador's
gran mama
—days before their wedding—and she'd heard that old Indian woman speak to her with a voice that seemed to come straight from the Heavens, Lupe truly did believe that this old lady and God had a very special relationship, indeed.

Why, my God, this old woman talked to Salvador as if she and God were best friends.

Lupe made the sign of the cross over herself just in case
Papito Dios
was listening. She didn't want to seem presumptuous, after all. Also, ever since she was a child, just making the crisscross motion of the Holy Cross across her body seemed to bring an immediate peace to her.

“As I've told you, Lupe,” continued Salvador with the
gusto
he always had when he spoke of his
mama,
“I'm the nineteenth child of
mi familia.
I came to my mother at the age of fifty, and so she had more time to talk with me. And fourteen of us nineteen children grew to adulthood and my mother saw that my other brothers, who were raised by the males of
nuestra familia,
became hard, except for Jose, who'd been cast from our home at the age of twelve to be raised by the animals. So she took an oath before God to not make the same mistake with me and leave the raising of me to the men. In fact, she told me that when I was born she swore to raise me up like a woman so I'd have the ability to think, to talk, to keep an open heart and be as cunning as the She-Fox, and not just leap forward like the bull to settle matters with muscles and violence like most men do.”

Lupe nodded. “Your mother, Salvador, is a very special woman.”

“Oh, yes! She's my life!” he said with
gusto.

Tears came to Lupe's eyes. “That's how I feel about
mi mama,
too. But she never told us children about any cycles of creation, Salvador.”

Salvador took a big deep breath. “Lupe,” he said, “my mother is no ordinary woman. She was educated in the Sacred Teaching of our people from Oaxaca.” He breathed again. “Her role, like her father's, is to be the keeper of our language and history that Europeans tried to destroy. As a child I remember going with my mother to where the old ones would gather, hiding in the woods so they could talk in their native tongues without persecution.”