Thirteen Senses (40 page)

Salvador took a deep breath and looked at his sister Luisa, who was now ready to take the frightened little man into her arms and give him love. And he turned and looked at Lupe, his young bride, lying in bed and looking at him, not knowing what to think, but having so much love and compassion for this scared little man, too.

And so Salvador knew that this was a time for him to back off, a time for him to be soft and understanding, especially here in front of these two women, but he couldn't! For he, too, had been a child of war—years younger than Epitacio—when he'd, also, seen his brothers and sisters raped and killed before his eyes, by the soldiers in the name of justice! But, still, he hadn't run out on his responsibilities!

No, he'd stood up at the age often, becoming the head of his
familia
!

And so he, Salvador, now leaped forward, grabbed Epitacio by the throat and swung him about, and shoved him out the back door, over Luisa's screams of protest! And past Lupe's startled eyes!

“Get in the car!” bellowed Salvador, dragging Epitacio to the Moon. “We have business to do! And I don't care if you're brave or not brave! You will finish what we started, and do it now, you son-of-a-bitch! Does a woman have choice when she's birthing! Does the deer have choice when the lion has him by the neck! Business is business, and we will finish our DAMN BUSINESS!”

Luisa was bellowing like a cow who'd lost her young. Then she picked up a rock, trying to hit Salvador on the head with the rock as he shoved Epitacio inside of the car!

“Stop it, Luisa!” yelled Salvador, ducking the rock and shoving his sister so hard she fell on her ass. “Stop acting like a cow losing her calf! I'm not going to kill the
cabrón
! I'm just teaching him BUSINESS responsibility!”

Leaping to her feet, Luisa grabbed up another rock, a huge one, and she threw it with all her might, shattering the rear window of the Moon as Salvador sped away in the Moon with Epitacio.

Lupe stood by the back door, watching the whole thing. She just didn't know what to think or do.

In heart-crushed agony, Luisa turned, still crying, and when she saw Lupe looking at her, she bellowed even louder than before! “What the HELL are you LOOKING AT! Nobody asked you to be watching!”

She charged Lupe like an enraged cow, shoving her off the steps of the door as she ran back into her home, slamming the door closed, and bolting it.

But Lupe was quick, so she was able to leap out of the way before Luisa could put a good shove on her.

Behind the closed door, Luisa continued crying in heartfelt agony!

Lupe stood all alone in the early morning light, still not knowing what all this was about, rubbing her arms to keep warm. This was when Lupe heard a voice singing quietly over by the avocado tree. It was a beautiful voice and sounded so happy and at peace.

Walking over, Lupe discovered that the singing was coming from the outhouse. Then she saw this little movement underneath the partial door, and she realized that she was seeing the bottom of Salvador's mother's skirt, rocking back and forth as she sat in the one-seater.

“Is that you, Lupe?” asked the old woman.

“Yes, Doña Margarita,” said Lupe.

“Well, I'd invite you to come in to join me,
mi hijita
,” said the old woman, “but this is only a one-seater.”

Saying this, the old lady opened the door and she was sitting with a shawl wrapped about her, her Bible and rosary in hand, a homemade
cigarrito
hanging from her mouth, a cup of coffee in her other hand, and she looked so happy. A lit candle was at her side with a picture of Jesus and the statue of the Virgin Mary.

Lupe almost laughed. Without any hint of embarrassment, Doña Margarita was doing her daily calling.

“Isn't it a beautiful new day,” said the old lady. “Look at that soft, early morning light coming down through those large, beautiful branches of the avocado tree. You know, this big, wonderful tree and I have been helping each other every day for years now. I shit in this outhouse a good, nice
caca
everyday, feeding her roots, and she in turn gives me the biggest, tastiest, juiciest avocados in all the area. Aaah, we're so happy together, this tree and I,” she said, smoking her homemade
cigarrito
and looking so much at peace as the outhouse filled with little white clouds of smoke. “And God works with us both each day, blessing this tree and I with light and warmth—all day long. Aren't we just lucky. Then I make myself a fresh
tortilla de maiz
for breakfast, cut a few slices of avocado, add a little salt and salsa, and oh, it's Heaven Here on Earth, I tell you! Mmm mmm! So tell me, how did you sleep last night,
mi hijita
, good, I hope?”

“Well, yes, I did, but excuse me, didn't you hear the commotion,
señora
?”

“Oh, that? Well, yes, of course, I heard it. But haven't we all heard these commotions before?” She yawned, stretching and giving a happy little laugh. “
Mi hijita,
when it's all said and done, these disturbances are no more than a
pedo-
fart in the wind. You are with child. Don't let any of these ups and downs of life,
la vida
, disturb you from your task at hand. What you are doing—what is happening to you inside of your body—is a Sacred Miracle, is a Blessing straight from
Papito Dios
, and not to be disturbed.”

“Then you aren't worried by this fight that just happened and how Salvador grabbed that poor man so violently?”

“Worried, me? Oh, no, the Stars in the Heavens will worry first! My only worry I now have—or concern to be more exact—is this big, nice, long, juicy
caca
that I can now finally feel come-come-coming—oh, feeling so good! Aaaaa! Ooooh, yes! Yes! Aaaah, yes! I tell you,
mi hijita
, at my age, a good bowel movement can bring the pleasure to a body that sex once brought when we were young.

“Look at these ants,” continued Doña Margarita as she put her cup of coffee down on a shelf next to the lit candle by the statue of
Maria.

“The ant season is over, but still they work on so industriously. You know,” she said as she now took the candle to relight her homemade
cigarrito
with big, air-sucking sounds, “the queen ant, she runs the whole show. And all the males are so well behaved. I just love watching them, and learning from them. We talk together, you know, the ants and I, just like this tree and I talk together, too. And last year, we came to an agreement, the ants and I, and now, well, I've started feeding them outside during the summer months when they're so active, and that way they don't come into my house. Except, of course, during the time of those wood-eating termites, then nothing can keep the ants out. Oh, they really clean the wood-eating termites out of my house for me. Isn't it wonderful,” she said, smiling, “how everything in all the world works so wonderfully together in the Sacred Circle of Living if we just relax, and watch, and learn, and keep out of the way, realizing that everything is perfect already, and has been perfect for millions and millions of years, and will continue to be perfect . . . forever!

“And us, and our short little stay, is less than a
pedo-
fart with all of our accumulated knowledge. Why, this tree is smarter than we will ever be. And these ants are smarter than us, too.”

She laughed, picking up her cup of coffee and saluted to the statue of
Maria
and the picture of Jesus, but then—when she went to sip—she found the cup empty. “Ah,
Maria,
You-Trickster-You, You drank my coffee again when I wasn't watching, eh? You saw that, eh, Lupe?”

“No,” said Lupe, shocked, “I didn't see the Blessed Mother drink your coffee.”

Doña Margarita laughed. “No, I mean, you saw that my cup still had coffee in it when I set it down, didn't you?”

“Well, yes, I thought so,” said Lupe.

“You did. Don't ever doubt your own senses.
Maria,
here, she has developed quite a few bad habits staying around with me. Would you like some coffee yourself, Lupe?” asked the old lady.

“Well, yes, I would,” said Lupe.

“Good, would you then go inside of my home and get yourself a cup, and get
Maria
and I a refill with plenty of sugar—what,
Maria?
Oh, no, not now,
Maria,
later. It's too early to be drinking. Yes, that's right. Okay, okay. You see,
Maria
likes a little whiskey in our coffee, but I told her no.”

“I see,” said Lupe. “The Virgin Mary drinks whiskey?”

“Wine mostly, you know that, but I don't want any
whiskito
right now. Hurry, Lupe, and oh, yes,
Maria
also says to please come out and join us, Lupe, in our discussion if you'd like.

“After all, you are now a married woman with child,
Maria
says, and so it is time for you to know the secrets of our—our trade,” said the old lady, laughing with
gusto
as she handed Lupe her cup. “Oh, now
Maria
is calling what we women know ‘our trade'! Oh,
Maria
is so funny! Every day
Maria
and I trade
cuentitos.
So go on,
Maria,
as You were saying.”

Taking Doña Margarita's cup, Lupe turned and headed for the little shack in back. In many ways Salvador's mother reminded Lupe of the Tarahumara Indian woman who'd been the midwife of their village. She'd been the outrage of their settlement—old and foul-mouthed and married to a man half her age.

Opening the door to the little shack, Lupe was instantly taken back with the fantastic smell of roses. The fragrance was pure Heaven. Then she saw them, the most gorgeous bunch of roses she'd ever seen!

“
THAT DAMN SISTER OF MINE
!” screamed Salvador as he and Epitacio sped out of the
barrio.
They took the road around town and down into the canyon that traveled from Corona to Lake Elsinore. “I'll kill her when I get back! And you, how could you just leave our distillery like that, Epitacio? You did at least lock up the place, right?”

Epitacio didn't answer. No, he just sat looking petrified.

“Oh, my God,” said Salvador, glancing at him, “you didn't lock it up, did you? You son-of-a-bitch! You just ran out the door because you heard something!”

“And saw something, too, Salvador!”

“What?”

“Eyes!”

“Eyes?”

“Yes, and they were big, Salvador!
Grandisimos!
And they were everywhere! Two eyes here, two eyes there! Two eyes all over the place!”

“You were drunk!”

“I don't drink, Salvador. You know that.”

“Two eyes, my ass!” said Salvador. But still, hearing this story, he reached under his seat, getting hold of his .45 automatic.

It was a narrow, twisting dirt road all the way down the canyon from Corona to Lake Elsinore. There was a little stream, oak trees, and an occasional grouping of sycamores.

Calmly, Salvador lit up a cigar. “All right, now tell me everything, Epitacio, and especially anything unusual in the last few days. I don't want us getting caught with our pants down. A man with his pants down is in a very dangerous position.”

Epitacio's whole face turned red. “Well, once, when I went out for groceries, they, well—ah,” but the frightened man didn't finish his words.

“EPITACIO!” screamed Salvador, grabbing him by the throat. “TALK! DON'T FUCK WITH ME! Our life is on the line!”

“They gave me a ride home,” he added quickly, “because I'd bought so much.”

“And why did you buy so much!?!”

“Because, well, I—”

“Did you invite them inside!?!”

Epitacio was swallowing. He just couldn't stop swallowing.

“You did, didn't you!?!”

“No! No! No! Salvador! They never came inside.”

“But they saw where you live, Epitacio,” said Salvador. “In a good house on the
gringo
side of town. That looks suspicious! Damnit, damnit, damnit,” added Salvador, but he wasn't yelling anymore. “You're out. Epitacio,” he said calmly. “You're out. You were right. I can't have you working for me anymore. You're looking to get us caught.

“You've reached that place in the poker game of life where a man no longer cares about winning or losing. All he wants is out, one way or another. I've seen it a thousand times. There are no accidents. Domingo was asking to be caught. He'd lost his nerve, and that's why he fought and acted so brave against the cops once they had us. Cowards, not brave men, are the ones who always go looking for wars.”

And saying this, Salvador breathed deeply again and again. “And who were they, these people who brought you home?”

“The people of the grocery store.”

“Man, woman? Come on, talk! Explain! DAMNIT!”

“A brother and a sister.”

“Okay, but they never came inside, right?”

Epitacio nodded.

“Good,” said Salvador, “but you're out, you were right, you're not brave.”

“Never have been,” said Epitacio.

“Okay, I understand, but now, I still need for you to help me. We'll ride by the place, look around, then go over to that grocery store and see how they treat you. I'll read their eyes, especially their left eye, and then we'll decide what to do.”

Epitacio nodded. “Then I can go back to Luisa?”

“Yes, then you can go back to Luisa.”

“Oh, good!” he said full of warmth and
gusto
!

Salvador almost laughed. Hell, it was he, who was on his honeymoon, not this middle-aged, fat, old man.

Driving by the house, Salvador saw that the front door was wide open. His eyes shot huge! He glanced at Epitacio.

Epitacio was swallowing so fast, he could hardly speak. “I think I, well, might have left it open when I ran out,” he said.

“My God,” said Salvador. “My God!” And he was now swallowing, too. But not out of fear, but with rage! He felt like killing this idiot who was sitting here beside him! “Now, where is this grocery store?” he asked as calmly as he could.