Blue Coyote Motel (3 page)

As promised, Lacy was waiting. Doug couldn't help but grin when he saw her. She looked like the perfect Southern California beautiful young woman. Lacy was tan and fit with long red hair, big blue eyes, incredibly white teeth, and an "inviting look" that drove men crazy. It certainly did Doug. If the Barbie doll was real and if she had red hair, she'd be a dead-ringer for Lacy. Doug bet she even surfed. As they were walking to a nearby cocktail lounge, he realized he didn't know anything about her and wanted to know everything.

The evening was memorable. From cocktails they progressed to dinner and then to her townhouse. He felt charming; shit, he was charming. It had been a long, long time since any woman had invited him to go home with her. The rest of the night was just as good. She was a joyful lover, giving and warm and very different from the cold-hearted prostitutes he'd been using the last couple of years. Just the thought of them now filled him with disgust. Thank God he had been careful and used protection. He didn't want to ruin this new beginning with Lacy. His luck had changed and he was damn glad it had.

He left Lacy’s townhouse just as the sky turned from dark blue to the rosy pink of dawn. It was time for his morning run and workout, then off to make more sales calls. He had only had three glasses of wine during the previous evening, one at the cocktail lounge, one at the restaurant, and one at Lacy's home. That restraint had to be a record in itself. No wonder he felt so great and God knows, he hadn't had much sleep.

Aravalve released the sales results of each of their salesmen every three months and finally, today was the day. Doug knew he had done very well in the last couple of months, but would it be good enough to make him the number one selling salesman? The results were to be announced at 3:00 p.m. that afternoon. The minutes seemed like hours. It was hard to stay focused. The quarterly meeting of the Aravalve sales force was held in the boardroom next to Jack's office. When Doug walked into the room at 3:00 p.m., applause broke out. Looking up at the whiteboard, he knew why. He had outsold the next closest salesman by two to one. Unbelievable. Jack walked over to him and held out his hand. Quietly he said, "I am so happy for you and so glad I decided to give you a second chance. Congratulations!"

The rest of the meeting was lost on Doug. He couldn't believe he had done it. Word of his success spread quickly throughout the building. When he walked to his car, people he didn't even know congratulated him. He noticed several women who had never before spoken to him smiling at him. Yes, life was good.

With his increased sales, his bonus would be substantial enough for him to pay Lisa the back alimony he owed. That would get her off his back and be one less thing for him to worry about. When he got to his car, his cell phone started ringing. He looked at the caller ID. It was Lacy. Doug flipped the phone open and said, "Hi Lacy, I didn't see you at the meeting. I called a few minutes ago to see if you could join me for dinner tonight."

Lacy had been in a meeting with the Human Relations Department concerning her recent promotion to the Marketing Department. She mentioned that he had been the talk of the building and how very proud she was of him. She offered to make dinner for the two of them at her townhouse. Why didn't he come over about 7:00?

What an amazing few months it had been! He'd lost 20 pounds, stopped smoking, really cut down on his drinking, and hadn't even thought about paying for sex. A man would have to be a fool to pay for it when Lacy was so warm and willing. He was working out, running four days a week, and was thinking about running a half-marathon. Doug had been the top salesman, earned enough to pay Lisa off, and was totally involved with Lacy. They were at the point where they were looking for deal-breakers because the relationship seemed almost too good to be true. Life was really, really good.

CHAPTER 3

“Madre de Dios
, Maria, you have to get this job. You're too choosy. You'll never get out of the barrio," her mother Elena said. Maria thought back to her childhood and she didn't think a day had ever gone by that Elena had not invoked the “Holy Mother" over something. Elena continued, "Maria, you are so beautiful; they will have to hire you. They would be crazy not to offer you a job and if it's a good one, you must take it. Your time is running out."

Maria stood on a stool in front of the small bathroom mirror to get a full-length view of herself. The Rodriguez family couldn't afford to buy a mirror and put it on the back of a door, so the small little mirror over the sink would have to do.

If she was being honest, Maria would probably have to agree that her mother was right when she told Maria she was beautiful. She had jet black hair that hung in soft shiny waves, just touching her shoulders, a stark contrast to her creamy light tan complexion and large brown eyes fringed with double lashes, which an envious classmate had once called "camel lashes." Full breasts led to an incredibly small waist with soft, rounded hips and long, long legs.

Maria read the fashion magazines in the library and knew that many women paid a lot of money for implants trying to get full, lush breasts like hers. She'd also read that some women were willing to pay to have their lower ribs removed so they could have smaller waists. Maria was simply the recipient of a lucky gene pool. Her body and face caused men’s eyes to glaze over when they saw her for the first time. When the initial shock wore off, they noticed that she also had a warm smile and full, inviting lips, again a blessing bestowed by nature rather than some scientific injection.

At 5'8", Maria towered over Elena. Years of hard work and bearing eleven children had prematurely aged her mother. There was only a sixteen-year age difference between them, but Elena looked forty years older. Her mottled, lined face was surrounded by nondescript grey-brown hair. Elena's hands were rough from working as a cleaning lady and her body had become thick with constant years of childbearing. Elena carried the weight of her large family on shoulders that were becoming more and more stooped each year.

Today was a big day for Maria, the interview with Moore Scientific Laboratories. The Rodriguez family didn't have a computer, but their priest, Father Ryan, knew how much Maria wanted to find a job outside the barrio. From time to time, he would search the Internet to see if there were any good jobs for her that were within bussing distance. He had called Maria a few days earlier when he discovered that this well-respected company was looking for a receptionist. He knew big businesses like Moore liked to show ethnic diversity and being Hispanic would certainly be in Maria's favor.

When Maria called to make an appointment for the interview, she learned that the head of Human Relations at Moore Labs was a man. Maria was well aware of the effect she had on men. A short black skirt, which showed off her legs, and a creamy silk blouse, which accentuated her high, full breasts, would be perfect to wear to the interview. Actually, it was the only "dress up" outfit she had. She applied a little mascara to emphasize her lashes and lip gloss to set off her smile and lips. The effect was dazzling. She looked incredibly sexy, but very ladylike. It was a difficult look for most women to achieve, but Maria instinctively had “it.”

Elena was speaking once again. "Maria, remember, only your beauty will get you out of here. If not, you'll be like every other pretty young woman who stays in the barrio. You'll end up marrying some macho, beer-drinking wife abuser or worse. You've seen what happens to them. They have one baby after another, their children are killed in drive-by shootings by gang members, and drug deals go down on every corner. Remember what happened to Raoul, your younger brother? My heart breaks every time I think about him being mistakenly shot by gang members.
Madre de Dios
. I beg of you, get out while you still have your beauty."

Conversations like this had been going on ever since Maria had been a young girl. She wanted out of the barrio far more than her mother knew. Maria and her father, Fabian, had never told Elena what had happened to her in the alley behind their house on that fateful day several years earlier. The mere thought of what the gang members and the rats had done to her still made her shudder in horror. Most memories fade with time, but that memory was seared forever on Maria's brain.

Her mother had made her deathly afraid of aging, of ending up bent and aged like she was or fat and pregnant like her sister Celia, who had her first child out of wedlock at thirteen and was now pregnant with her fourth child by four different fathers at age nineteen. None of the four fathers had stayed around to help take care of or pay for the children. They all lived in the Rodriguez house; three more mouths to feed with a fourth on the way.

"Mama, if you feel so strongly about it, why didn't you get out? Why did you stay? You always talk about the men of the barrio and yet papa is one. Why is he any different?"

Elena Rodriguez looked at her daughter, "Your father told me if I married him he would never beat me. He told me he loved me. I believed him. He's a good man. He never has raised a hand to me. We don't have enough money to get out and we can barely feed the family. It's too late for us, but it's not too late for you. I know you will be offered a job at Moore Labs. Every morning at Mass, you are in my rosary bead prayers, prayers that you will get a good job, find a rich man, and leave the barrio. When you lose your looks and start aging, it will be too late. You are twenty-three. You can't wait much longer."

CHAPTER 4

Maria's life had not been easy. She always remembered the small rented home in Santa Ana, California. Slum landlords didn't put money into houses in this area and her run-down house was always badly in need of paint, inside and out. The steps leading to the porch were sloped and rotting away. The tired, rusty air-conditioner hung precariously from a bedroom windowsill that threated to come loose any minute. The inside was furnished with just the bare necessities: couch, refrigerator, stove, and an old television her father got from a family who set it out with the rest of their trash. The bedrooms were lined with used bunk beds held together with duct tape. The younger children shared beds while her father slept on the living room couch alongside a folding cot where Elena slept.

Her mother worked long hours as a cleaning lady, spending two or more hours each day commuting on buses to get to and from work. The Rodriguez family didn't own a car. Her father, Fabian, was a gardener's assistant and he, too, worked long hours. The money they earned barely covered the essentials. Fabian and Elena had crossed over the border from Mexico two decades ago, wanting to give their children a better life than what was available for them in Mexico. Maria was the first born and ten more children soon followed, making it even harder for Maria's parents to eke out a meager existence. They were always working, never home. Maria was more of a parent to her brothers and sisters than her parents were. No, it had not been an easy life.

Maria's physical development and beauty occurred early and it had not escaped the attention of the "home boys" in the barrio. "
Grande chichis
," "big tits," was usually the first thing they yelled when they saw her. When there was no response from her, "
grande chichis
" turned to "
una apretada,
" the frigid one.

Women, particularly young women, weren't regarded very highly in the barrio. The ones who escaped the "home boys’" hoots and yells had ties to the gangs. Those young women were off-limits, under the protection of the gangs, and it was rare for a rival gang member to ever say anything disparaging or sexual to them. If they did, they were usually found dead in a matter of days. Maria's brother had been killed by gang members and she hated them.

The barrio was a frightening place. It was never-ending gang fights, the sound of gunshots late at night, and rats that lived in the alleys behind the houses, eating whatever they could find. Maria would never forget the night when she was twelve years old and had taken the trash out to the alley.

On the night she made a solemn vow to get out of the barrio, she noticed that the trash had been overflowing in their small kitchen. She knew how tired her mother would be when she finally got home from working all day cleaning houses and then taking a second job, cleaning up from the cocktail party one of the ladies she worked for was having. She thought she would help her mother by emptying the trash.

Maria walked out the back door in the early evening, turned the corner, entered the alley, and immediately sensed there were people nearby. In a matter of seconds, she was surrounded by five young men with prominent gang tattoos. She recognized them as being from the same gang that had been responsible for her brother's death. She turned to run back to her house, but was stopped by one of them who held her arms from behind while another one sprung open his knife and slowly cut each button off her blouse. As her blouse opened, he deftly slashed the front of her bra with his knife, exposing her breasts. The "home boys" were whipping themselves into a sexual frenzy, calling her "
puta,
" slut, touching her exposed breasts. Then they pushed her to the ground, tearing at her jeans and pulling them off. Prying her legs apart, one by one they dropped their jeans to the ground, savagely raping her. Violence was common in the "hood" and two of them could only become erect by first beating her; then, and only then, were they capable of raping her.

Maria was a virgin and the brutal assault caused her to bleed severely from her vagina, as well as bleeding from her split lip where they had punched her. She could feel hot tears on her cheeks as one of them yelled, "
hijo de puta
" to the others, "son of a bitch." The leader of the gang yelled for them to leave, that someone was coming, and in seconds they were gone. As she lay on the ground, battered and bruised, she could hear the rats coming near her, scuttling around with their bright little piercing eyes. She could feel their tails as they brushed against her, licking the blood from her legs. She could feel one crawling up the inside of her leg seeking the source of the vaginal blood as another one inched along her cheek, licking the blood from her face. She was too weak to cry out for help. Mercifully, she passed out from pain and terror.