Thirteen Senses (82 page)

“No, Salvador,” said Lupe, as calmly as she could. Her heart was pounding. She'd never spoken up like this in all her life. A real lady didn't behave like this. No, a real lady was cute and coy and indirect, or elegant and beautiful and knew her place. Those were a woman's two choices. Not this, that she was now Birthing here inside of herself!

“No?” said Salvador to her. “Is this what I just heard you say to me, Lupe, ‘No, Salvador?' “

She swallowed. She could see that he'd been drinking far more than she'd realized and she knew he had a temper every bit as bad as his brother's, so she'd have to be careful in what she said. But this was her life, too, and so she wasn't going to be silenced.

“Yes, Salvador, I said no to you.”

“You said no to me? Your husband?
El hombre de la casa
?”

“Of course, I said no to you, Salvador, you're
mi esposo
, the man I married,” she said, getting louder than she'd expected. “I'm your wife, Salvador, the woman who loves you and is carrying your next child here inside as we speak. The woman who got down on her hands and knees, crawling into the fires of Hell to rescue you when I don't think any other rational human being would have. So yes, I said no, and I'll say NO AGAIN IN THE FUTURE, TOO!” She hadn't meant to shout, but she had.

Salvador held, just staring at her, then he started laughing. “Okay, okay, so you said no. You don't have to bite my head off,” he added. “I just wanted to make sure that I'd heard you correctly.”

“You heard me correctly, Salvador,” she said, her heart pounding so hard that she felt the top of her head might come off. “We've been married for nearly three years, and I've followed you through Hell and fire and supported you with all my heart and soul without question, but I will follow you no more without speaking up. What happened to me at that bank is no small matter. And what is happening to you with all your drinking and celebrating with your brother is no small matter, either.”

“All right,” he said, feeling his mouth going dry with all the beer and
tequila
he'd drunk, “this has gone far enough! I don't want to hear any more! I, too, have put my life on the line TIME and AGAIN, LUPE!” he yelled. “So don't think you've been doing things alone!”

“Yes, I agree,” she yelled right back at him, refusing to be silenced, “you have risked your life, too! But in the past, we always did things only your way, and we are not going to be doing it only your way in the future anymore! Do you hear me, Salvador?

“We were so happy on the riverbank of Yuma with me massaging your feet after work and . . . and the two of us talking about our dreams. Those were our dreams, Salvador, yours and mine, and yes, small, I agree, not big and grand like the ones you and Domingo now talk about every day, but they were ours. Do you understand? I'm in this marriage, too.”

The tears were flowing down from her eyes and Salvador felt such heartfelt power for her as he looked into her eyes. Lupe was speaking right up to him in his face with all the passion of her
corazón.
He was touched to the core.

“Yes, Lupe,” he said, taking in a deep breath, “we were happy, weren't we,
querida
, there by the river's edge.”

“Yes, Salvador,” said Lupe, her eyes looking like great, shiny, dark ponds as the tears continued streaming down her face, “you and I were together, here inside of our hearts, and every night when we'd make love, we'd speak about our dreams of making a home, of building a place big enough so we could take care of our mothers and my father in their old age. We were wonderful together, Salvador, there underneath the Stars along the river skin to skin, feeling so warm and good.”

“Yes, I remember well,” said Salvador, his whole chest swelling up. “My feet were swollen and burning after working in those hot fields and you massaged my feet with that cool, wet clay from the river and it felt like Heaven here on Earth!”

“Exactly, Salvador. We had nothing but our happiness, and our happiness was our EVERYTHING!”

Salvador's eyes were now crying, too. “Yes, I agree completely, but still, what is this all about? Are you afraid if we get the gold, then we can't be happy?”

She shook her head. “No, not at all, Salvador. I think people can have something and still be happy, it's just, that, well—” She didn't quite know how to put it in words, but she'd been raised in a gold mining town so she'd seen what gold did to people's minds. It was already happening to Domingo and Salvador. They could talk of nothing else. They were possessed by
el Diablo
of gold.

He could see that she was having difficulty. “Lupe,” Salvador now said, “why don't you just tell me what happened to you at the bank. I just don't understand what is going on.”

Lupe told Salvador the story of how the bank manager had treated her. At first Salvador just laughed, telling Lupe that she was being too sensitive and spoiled, because of how women were treated in the United States.

But, then, when Lupe reminded Salvador of how difficult it had been for his own mother in Mexico and how he, himself, had explained to her that his family would never have come to ruin if his mother, Doña Margarita, had handled their finances, Salvador remembered their days of starvation and he EXPLODED!

“You're right!” he yelled at Lupe. “A thousand times, you're right! We could have maybe even survived the Revolution if my mother had handled our money!”

“And also, Salvador,” Lupe now said, “realize that this banker would have never treated me like this, if you and I had driven up all week in our Moon automobile and we'd been dressed in fine clothes. The way in which he talked to me made me almost ill, Salvador,” she said with tears coming to her eyes again. “This is how women are always treated, especially poor women. Then you should have seen how all the other men in the bank also snickered at me. They were all just a bunch of cowards, but what could I do? The whole Mexican system supports them.”

By now, Salvador could hear no more. He was ten feet up in the air, fighting demons, seeing his beloved mother in rags, looking all Indian!

He jammed his fist into his mouth to stop himself from screaming out in anguish! He'd been nothing but a child of ten years old when the Revolution had come raping and killing into their mountains. But he was a child no more! He was now a fully-grown man with his
tanates
hanging loose and his heart
-corazón
beat, Beat, BEATING like the mighty DRUM of the UNIVERSE!

“Come on!” he yelled to Lupe. “Let's go down there to that bank right now and get our money, and you'll get your RESPECT!”

“But no, Salvador,” she said, “this isn't the point of what I've been talking about. This banker's behavior is in all of Mexico, don't you see?”

“Then all of Mexico is about to change right now!” bellowed Salvador as he kicked the door open, and Lupe was right behind him, yelling, but he wasn't listening to her anymore! He was
un hombre
,
un macho
, a man possessed!

Hearing the commotion, Domingo came running out of his room, pulling up his pants. “What is it?” he asked.

“Our money has arrived!” shouted Salvador. “But that stupid banker wouldn't release it to Lupe!”

“Do you need my help?” said Domingo, liking the sound of the action. “We'll hang the son-of-a-bitch by his tongue
a lo chingon
!”

“No, it's only one bank,” said Salvador, getting in his truck. “I'll be right back!”

But Lupe wasn't going to be left behind and she got into the truck with her husband. “Look,” she said, “you missed the whole point of what it is that I'm trying to say. This isn't about going after this banker, Salvador. This is about understanding how our life would be if we returned to Mexico.”

“Exactly,” said Salvador, “and you're my wife and so our life in Mexico or anywhere else on this whole damn
planeta
will be good, because every inch of the way we will have respect! You hear me, RESPECT, Lupe!”

“But we can't fight everyone, Salvador.”

“No, just every son-of-a-bitch
pinchi cabrón
who doesn't show us respect!”

Lupe didn't know what more to say. Salvador just wasn't really hearing her anymore. No, he was drunk and wild with rage!

Getting to the bank, Salvador burst through the doors, rushing straight up to the manager who was sitting at his desk, talking to a customer.

“What do you mean, you won't give my wife our money!?!” he bellowed at the bank manager.

“Of course, I'll give you your money,
señor
,” said the manager. “I guess there's just been a misunderstanding. It's simply not our bank's policy to give money to women.” He laughed, feeling a little bit nervous. “Where would our country be if we gave money to every wife who came in here?” he added.

But he'd added this last statement to the wrong man. Salvador's mother had begged his father not to sell their goats or they'd starve. His father, the arrogant fool, had sold the herd of fine milk goats anyway, because he, a man, couldn't go back on his word to another man, even if the man was a tricky businessman.

“I'll tell you where we'd be!” yelled Salvador, leaning over the desk right into the manager's face with the cords of his nineteen-inch neck coming up like a bull's! “We'd be a SMARTER, BETTER OFF COUNTRY! Now, give us our money, right now!”

“Of course, by all means,” said the man, still refusing to be intimidated.

“And,” added Salvador, “I want you to apologize to my wife!”

Now, this stopped the bank manager dead in his tracks. He'd had enough. He wasn't going to take any more abuse from these two poor, uncivilized, ignorant ranch people. Not taking his eyes off of Salvador for a second, he now pushed back in his chair, standing up to his full height, towering over Salvador and Lupe. He straightened his coat, buttoning it.

“Apologize?!?” he said. “I apologize to your wife!?! Why, it is your wife—just because she's pretty—who thinks that she can come in here and get her way! Oh, no, she owes me an apology! But I'm a gentleman and a professional, and so I'll let that go and I will be glad to give you two your money, but you two will burn in Hell before you ever get an apology from any member of this banking institution!”

Grinning, smiling that little tight grin of his, Salvador now said, “I see, I see,” and he said this so softly, so calmly, that if the bank manager hadn't been so full of himself he would have understood that something very dangerous was up, but he didn't. “And we're just poor, simple people, right? We aren't rich, so we're really of no consequence to you or your bank, correct?”

And saying this, Salvador calmly turned around, grinning that little tight smile of his, and he took note of where all the other employees and customers were situated in the bank, because he certainly didn't want to do something that he couldn't handle.

Then, feeling satisfied that he now knew the lay of the place well, Salvador suddenly, without any warning, lunged across the huge desk, grabbed hold of the man by the throat and jerked him halfway over the desk. “I'm from
Jalisco
, you stupid son-of-a-bitch! A
TAPATIO
! A WILD MAN! And we INVENTED HELL for the likes of YOU!”

Saying this, Salvador drew his .45 automatic and rammed the barrel of the gun into the man's face. “You don't insult a man's wife—no matter how poor—and think that you and your friends can laugh and snicker without getting the bull's horn up your ass!

“And don't one of you son-of-a-bitches, who's behind me, even think of moving! I checked each one of you and know right where you're standing! MOVE, and I'll shoot your ass dead!

“And now you,” he said, turning his attention back to the manager, “are you ready to start apologizing, or do you really want to start bleeding slowly on your WAY to HELL! For I will not kill you quickly, but shoot you in one foot, then the other, then shoot you in the
tanates
, so you'll feel the pains of giving birth before YOU DIE! Didn't you have a mother? Weren't you taught respect. Now, start talking!”

No one moved. Everyone was transfixed. And the banker didn't know whether to shit or scream! His eyes were all jumpy. He'd never expected this. He'd truly miscalculated who these people were. And he now knew that he was dealing with a totally wild man, a people who six years after the Mexican Revolution ended, were still fighting—not because of poverty— but because of personal pride and religious fanaticism. These people of Jalisco were
crazy-loco
Christians, willing to die on a moment's notice for their impossible beliefs of God, the Devil, and Eternal Salvation!

“Please, understand,” the banker was now saying, “this had absolutely nothing to do with your fine wife,
señor.
I'm sure that your
señora
is a fine, intelligent woman,” he added.

“Does this sound like an apology to you?” said Salvador, turning to Lupe. “Or does this just sound like more
caca del toro
!”

And why Lupe said what she said next, she'd always wonder about, because she'd never thought of herself as being one of those types of women who enjoyed egging her husband on to see him fight in her behalf. Those type of women, her mother had always told Lupe and her sisters,

were low class women who were not thinking of the benefit for the whole
familia
and were just having a little personal fun in a stupid and very dangerous way.

But Lupe now found herself saying with
gusto
, “No, Salvador, that almost sounds like an apology, but not quite.”

And with this word “almost,” Lupe gave Salvador all the reins he needed to jerk the man completely across the desk and slam him down on the floor to his knees, bellowing at him like a WILD BULL!