Thirteen Senses (43 page)

“Oh, and this is why you haven't been going to the library to get books to read, my child?” he asked.

Lupe turned to Salvador. “I've been too upset,” she said. “Tell him why, Salvador.”

“Well,” said Salvador, sitting forward in his chair, “you see, Father, Lupe and I have come to you today because, well, we took our vows of marriage very seriously, but, you see—” He stopped and glanced at Lupe. “Lupe, you're the one who's upset. I think you should tell him.”

She shook her head. She felt so ashamed she could die. Here, they were, inside the Holy House of God, and Salvador was proposing that she talk of things of the Devil. “No,” she said, “you do it.”

“Well, okay,” said Salvador, a little taken aback. “You see, Father, I make liquor for a living.”

“You do?” said Father Ryan, licking his lips.

“Yes, and Lupe, here, she wants me to stop making it.”

“I see,” said the priest, nodding several times, as if he were digesting all this information for the very first time. “And this, my dear,” he said, turning to Lupe, “is what is troubling you?”

“Well, of course,” she said, completely surprised by the priest's question.

“And why does it bother you?” asked the priest.

“Why?!?” said Lupe, much louder than she'd expected.

Salvador squirmed in his chair. This man of God was really good and smart, and sneaky! Hell, he could be a Cardinal!

“Yes,” continued Father Ryan. “Why does this bother you, my dear?”

“Well, because, Father, liquor is the substance of the Devil!” she said quickly, then she continued speaking in a fast, frightened voice. “And when you married us, Father, you said we're responsible for each other, so that when we die, our love will continue even up in Heaven. But this liquor, Father,” she added, tears coming to her eyes, “is going to get Salvador sent to Hell for all eternity, so he's not going to be able to be with me up in Heaven!” And saying this, she burst into tears.

Salvador stared at Lupe. He'd never realized that all this was going on inside of her mind. Why, the poor girl had been suffering all this time beyond his wildest dreams. He took her hand, soothing it. He, too, wanted to go to Heaven and be with Lupe after he died.

“Well, my dear,” said the priest, “then, if I understand correctly, you believe that alcohol is a great evil in itself. Am I right?”

“Well, yes, of course!” said Lupe, full of self-righteousness. “My mother always told us that liquor and cards ruined more marriages than even war!” she added louder than she'd intended. She was so scared, talking about these horrible things inside the House of God!

“And your mother was very wise in telling you this,” said the man of the cloth. “For, all through the ages, the abuse of liquor and cards has been one of our biggest problems.”

Lupe turned and looked at Salvador, as if saying, “See!” Oh, she was truly enjoying this priest now.

“But, also, my child,” continued the priest, hands sweeping smoothly across his clean, wide desktop, “we must consider the fact that God, in His infinite wisdom, gave each of us freewill, so we could choose between good and evil and, therefore, make our own way—I repeat, our own way—as responsible individuals through life on earth and into His kingdom of Heaven.” He stopped, replacing his hands on his desk like a tent once more. “Do you understand, my child?”

Lupe shook her head. “No,” she said, “I don't.”

“Well, child, simply, if there was no evil or temptation in this world, then what grace would there be in choosing the good?” he said.

“Then, you are saying that liquor is good, because it's bad, so then we can choose?”

Hearing this, he considered her words carefully, then he nodded. “Yes, I am,” he said. “Or, now, look at it this way, I'm also saying that each one of us, in the act of choosing, becomes the person that we are. Take, for instance, this: what was the very first miracle that Our Lord Jesus Christ performed on earth?”

He stopped, licking his lips once more, but never once took his eyes off Lupe. “That's right,” he said, “you remember; I can see it in your eyes. It was at the wedding feast. Yes, go on, say it. Their hosts had run out of wine and so, not to cause them any further embarrassment, Our Beloved Lady asked her Most Holy Son to please change—”

“Water into wine?” said Lupe.

“Exactly. And did Our Lord Savior refuse?” asked the priest. “No, he certainly did not. He chose to grant his mother her wish, and He didn't make just ordinary wine. Oh, no; He changed that water into the finest of all wines—just as your husband, here, does with his fine whiskey—or so, I've been told,” he added quickly, coughing a few times.

Lupe felt her mind reeling. Why, all her life she'd absolutely known, without a doubt, that liquor was bad, was an evil tool of the Devil's; and now this man of God was reminding her that Christ, Himself, had made alcohol, too.

“So, as I was saying,” continued the man of the cloth, “I do believe that God, in His infinite Wisdom, knew what He was doing when He gave your husband his special powers for making liquor, and even I might add, gave him the namesake of Salvador, meaning Savior, in honor of His only begotten Son, Our Lord Christ, the Savior!”

Lupe just didn't know what to say or think anymore. She felt like she was losing her mind. “Well, then, Father, do you mean,” she said, “that my husband is like Jesus, doing God's work when he makes liquor?”

“Well,” said the priest, rising up his left eyebrow. He hadn't expected to hit a home run. “I wouldn't quite go that far. But, I will say that what Salvador does isn't against the laws of God.”

“But it is against the law in this country,” said Lupe. “And I don't want him getting caught and going to jail. We're going to have a child and—oh, my God!” she said. “I'm so, so, so confused!”

“Then let us pray,” said the priest calmly, “that your husband never goes to jail and that you come to understand that alcohol isn't evil in itself. Also, keep in mind many of our Church's finest people have been imprisoned over the centuries. Wasn't Christ Himself put in chains and forced to carry His own cross?

“What I think you should do, my dear, is pray every day for your husband's safety. After all, these are difficult times for all of us. Some people, as I'm sure you know, are even having trouble keeping food on their tables.”

“Well, yes, I know that,” said Lupe, “but, well, I just don't know ... I'd thought that we were living in sin, Father,” she added.

“And so you came to me and I think that's most commendable,” he said. “So many young couples, after they are married, forget all about their spiritual needs. I congratulate you, Maria Guadalupe, on your thoughtfulness. But now, unless you have some other matter that you wish to discuss, I have other people waiting.”

And saying this, the priest stood up. Long ago, the man of God had learned that it was best to cut things off quickly so people could go home and digest things by themselves.

“Well, thank you for your time,” said Salvador, thinking it had gone well and now he and Lupe should quickly get the hell out before she remembered that she'd wished to give the Church all of their bootleg money.

But Lupe wasn't to be sidetracked. She remained seated and said, “Father, I almost forgot; we also came to give you the money from all the liquor that Salvador has sold.”

“Oh,” said the priest, turning to Salvador. “And how much might that be, my dear?” He could see that Salvador was now squirming in his chair, shitting square bricks.

“We want to give all of it to you,” she said. “It's nearly three hundred dollars.”

Salvador, who'd been rocking back and forth in his chair, now crashed backward to the floor, shattering the back of the chair.

“It's all right,” said the man of God, getting to his feet, “it was an old chair. Are you okay?”

“Yes,” said Salvador. He was all shook up.

“Look,” said the priest, realizing that this was a fortune they were talking about, “that's very generous of you, my dear,” he added, turning back to Lupe. “But, now that we've spoken together on this matter, I think that you and Salvador need to talk. But a small Doñation of, let's say, sixty dollars, which is twenty percent, is acceptable at this time.”

“I thought the Church took ten percent!” said Salvador, getting to his feet and reaching into his pocket to bring out his money. Hell, he figured that he'd already given this damn priest well over his ten percent in liquor over the years, but what could he do? He couldn't very well tell Lupe that the man drank like a damn fish and was a costly expense every month as it was.

“Here's twenty dollars,” said Salvador to the man of God. “I don't have any more money on me right now. All of our money is in the bank,” he added, lying to the priest.

“As it should be,” said the priest, taking the twenty and slipping it into his own pocket. “And this is more than enough,” he added. “Forget the other forty.” He didn't want to anger Salvador and have him cut off his whiskey supply. “Thank you very much. And remember, Lupe, yes, bootlegging is against the laws of this land, but not against the laws of God! Go in peace, my children!”

Walking out of the church, Lupe didn't know what to think. The whole world was going crazy all around her. This priest had said that liquor wasn't bad; that Jesus Christ, Himself, had made wine, and that God had, also, given people freewill so that they could choose between good and evil and make their way through life and into the Kingdom of God.

Oh, she felt like her head was bursting—she was so confused!

And Salvador, he was working hard not to grin. My God, it hadn't turned out as bad as he'd expected. And this freewill stuff, he really liked it. It was exactly what his mother had told him all his life, that even God needed help in making miracles here on Earth. And a miracle had, indeed, just come to pass—he was now a bootlegger with God's Blessing!

AFTER THEIR VISIT
with the priest, life still remained strained between Salvador and Lupe. Salvador was running out of whiskey and so he had to set up his distillery again, but he didn't want to tell Lupe. He decided to go across town, over to the
barrio de Carlos Malo,
and talk to Archie. Lupe said that she'd come along and buy groceries at the little Mexican market across the street from the poolhall.

“So what are you asking me?” said Archie to Salvador. They were in the back room of Archie's poolhall. The poolhall—not the Church—was the real center of the
barrio.
It was the place where all the single men hung out and received their mail. Also, owning this place made it easier for Deputy Archie to keep watch over things and enforce the law. “Are you asking me for protection, or just advice?”

“I guess a little of both,” said Salvador.

“Then it will cost you a barrel a week.”

“Hey, Archie, I can't pay you that much!” yelled Salvador. “I don't have anyone who I can trust anymore to help me make the liquor! I'm small! I'll have to do it all alone, and also, remember, I'm married now!”

“Yeah, I saw Lupe going into the market across the street. So how is that cute little sister of hers? Man, she's a hot little
chile
!”

“The less I see of that woman, the happier I am,” said Salvador.

“Does Lupe know your business yet?”

Taking a deep breath, Salvador nodded. “Yeah, I had to tell her, and
mano,
she hardly talks to me anymore.”

Slapping his own leg, Archie burst out laughing! “So you're finally a real married couple!”

Salvador didn't think it was funny.

“Look, you can set up your distillery in Escondido,” said Archie.

“And you'll talk to the sheriff over there?”

“No need to,” said Archie. “That's so close to the border nobody bothers looking for bootleggers.” In Mexico, liquor was still legal.

“And I'm going to pay you for this?”

“Yeah, you are. One barrel every . . . let's say, two weeks, or now that I know where you'll be, I'll haul you in myself!”

“That's blackmail, Archie!”

“Yeah, don't you just love it? Getting the horn from your wife one way, and from the law the other!” Archie's whole face filled
with gusto,
laughing and laughing, truly enjoying himself! “It's a screwed-up world, eh? Your best friend, sticking it to you, and your wife not giving you any!”

“How can you sleep at night, Archie?”

“Like a baby! I'm thinking of running for mayor. Or maybe governor and my slogan will be ‘Dirty Archie—your straight-shooting, double-dealing, crooked politician!' Hell, I bet you I win by a landslide!”

“You're worse than any priest!”

“Thank you,” said Archie. “Those con artists would've taken over ownership of all of California if they'd had their way.”

Finishing up his business with the big lawman, Salvador was going out the front doors of the poolhall when he saw a big, tall Anglo walk up to their Moon automobile. Lupe was putting her groceries inside of their car, and the big, tall Anglo stooped over, putting his head inside the window of their Moon, smooth-talking to Lupe.

Salvador's heart EXPLODED! He went for his gun, but he didn't have it. It was under the seat of the Moon.

“Hey,
amigo
!” yelled Salvador, charging up.

The tall man turned around, smiling a big, lecherous grin full of huge white teeth and straightened up to his full height, towering over Salvador by a good foot. But Salvador wasn't to be intimidated, and he leaped up, hitting him under the chin with all the power of his short, thick, compact body.

The force was so great that the man's two feet came completely off the ground, and he went flying backward, hitting his head against the side of the Moon. Archie came rushing up.