Thirteen Senses (16 page)

“But how long will you be gone?” asked Lupe. “I want to cook for you.”

“I won't be gone long,” he said to her, trying to get out the door. “I'll be right back.”

“Promise?” she said.

“Absolutely,” he said, “it should only take me an hour or two at the most to see Fred Noon, then pick up a little money that's owed to me.”

“Well, all right,” she said, drawing close to him and giving him another long kiss. “But don't stay any longer. I'm fixing you a special supper.”

“I promise,” he said, “not a minute longer.”

And she started to hug him again, but he managed to slip under her grasp and get to the door.

She laughed good-naturedly. Oh, she was purring! Why, her whole body hadn't stopped singing ever since their lovemaking had begun.

Lupe followed Salvador out the door to his car. He started the motor. “Hurry back!” she yelled. “I'll be waiting!”

He turned their Moon automobile around and started down the driveway. She waved good-bye to him. She felt so happy to be married and waving good-bye to her husband as he went off into the world that tears came to her eyes.

The little dog,
Chingon,
came up to her. Lupe squatted down, petting him as she wiped her eyes and watched Salvador, her truelove, drive down the long driveway between the avocado trees, then turn left toward town.

All her life Lupe had been told that love was the most wondrous thing in a person's life, and that the act of lovemaking itself was what kept a woman young and healthy. But she'd never understood until now—that she'd been with Salvador again and again for days on end—that lovemaking not only released all of a woman's vital juices, but awoke a woman's skin, like from a long sleep, becaming so soft and smooth as it sang and tingled with life.

She could still feel Salvador here, all over her skin.

TURNING LEFT
toward downtown Carlsbad, Salvador reached under his seat and checked his .38 Special. He had absolutely no idea what this was all about, but it sure as Hell couldn't be any good, he figured.

Walking into the Montana Cafe, Salvador immediately spotted Helen serving coffee. Seeing him, the German woman let out a shout. “Look, Hans,” she yelled to her husband who was behind the counter in the kitchen, “Salvador has risen from the dead!”

“Good!” yelled Hans, who was dressed all in white and cooking. “Feed him our special, so he don't die!”

“Hi, Helen,” said Salvador. “Hi, Hans!” he shouted to the kitchen.

Hans and Helen had become two of Salvador's best friends. Then Salvador saw that Fred Noon and Kenny were waiting for him over at a corner table. Archie was with them, too. It looked like they had just finished eating and were now drinking their coffee.

Salvador took a deep breath. My God, it truly seemed like two or three years had passed since he'd last seen any of these people. He still had the full smell of Lupe here in his nostrils and the feel of her body all over his body. A man in love was truly a lost creature. His balls, his
tanates,
they were still hanging loose and tingly, feeling so good with each step he took. He smiled.

“Well, now there's a man who's done nothing but enjoy himself for days,” said Archie in a loud, happy voice. “Just look at him! Hell, he looks younger and better than I've ever seen him!”

“He's just sober for a change,” said Kenny White. “That's what he is, sober, because Lupe don't allow drinking! Why, the crazy son-of-a-bitch stared at me when he came to the door, like he couldn't remember who the Hell I was!” added Kenny, laughing.

“Don't let their teasing get to you, Sal,” said big, tall, rawboned Fred Noon. “We're all proud of you! Sit down! Join us! Hell, it's not often a man manages to pull his life together, especially after what you've been through in the last few months, and marry the woman of his dreams.

“So how is Lupe?” added Fred Noon respectfully. Noon was dressed, like always, in a very fine-looking suit and tie. Success, wealth, they just seemed to radiate from the man.

Taking a deep breath, Salvador looked at Fred Noon in the eyes, and nodded. All three men burst out laughing.

“That good, eh?” said Archie. “Well, I'll be damn! I guess I was all wrong! Them virgins are good stuff, after all!”

Saying this, Archie was laughing and laughing and slapping his leg. And normally, Salvador would've taken offense at what Archie had just said, and he would've told the big lawman off for being so disrespectful, but now, for some reason, he wasn't offended by Archie's remark at all. No, he could see that Archie was just Archie, and he hadn't really meant anything. Hell, he was in admiration of what he, Salvador, had done. He'd pulled together—against great odds—a life of hope and love.

Just then, Helen came to the table with a huge plate of eggs, pork chops, and potatoes. “Here,” she said, “on the house! Hans says we got to keep your strength up, Sal.” She laughed. “Hans always likes to brag how I almost killed him on our honeymoon. I didn't know anything. I met Hans when I was thirteen, and we married when I was sixteen, so I had no idea a woman can kill a man!”

The four men laughed. Hans and Helen were different from any couple that Salvador had ever met. They just weren't married; no, they worked together, too. And he was the boss, there was no doubt about that, but also she was free to voice her opinions about anything. Theirs was the first marriage that Salvador had ever seen where they actually called each other “partners,” as if they were in business together. And Helen was dark. This always puzzled Salvador, because he'd come to assume that all Germans were blond with light skin, like Hans. And Hans, oh, he was a bull! Why, Salvador had once seen Hans come from behind the counter with his huge butcher knife and discipline these big
gringo
boys who hadn't finished their food and were being too noisy.

Seeing the three eggs, the two thick, juicy, pork chops, and the big mountains of sliced potatoes, Salvador was suddenly so hungry that his mouth began to salivate. He glanced at Hans behind the counter, waved to him, thanked Helen, then he attacked the food with
gusto,
as if he hadn't eaten in years!

Kenny and Archie burst out laughing.

“My God, Sal,” said Kenny, “don't she feed you?”

“Feed you, my eye,” said Archie. “She never lets him get out of bed!”

Fred Noon joined them, laughing, too.

All three of these men were in their early forties, and they had only the highest regard for Juan Salvador Villaseñor, who, at twenty-five years of age, had managed to carve out a life for himself in a very treacherous, rough-and-tumble world. And they all knew that he'd done it with honor, meaning that he was a man of his word,
un hombre de su palabra!
A man of respect. And respect had no patience for people who weren't on their toes. Money didn't accompany fools for long.

GOING BACK INSIDE
their little white cottage, Lupe put on some water to make herself a cup of coffee, and she decided to bathe and wash her hair. It was a warm, sunny day, one of the last days of August, and she could smell the sea coming in with the breeze through their open windows. She could hardly get over the fact that this was really her home,
su casa
; not her parents' home, not her sister's home, but hers, Lupe's, a married woman's.

She began to whistle as she went from the kitchen to the bathroom. She felt so happy and safe and all warm and good, deep inside of herself. She could smell the roses from the garden in front. She could hear
Chingon
chasing one of the cats. These smells, these sounds, they were now the smells and sounds of her home,
su casa.

Lupe turned on the water to the tub, testing it with her fingers until it was just right, then she tied up her hair and stripped. She would soak in the tub with her cup of coffee, relaxing for a while before she washed her hair. She could really do anything she wanted. After all, she was now an adult, a responsible person, as Salvador had said. She smiled, feeling so good.

The dog barked.

But no, Lupe didn't panic. She just simply held still and listened, quickly realizing that it was a happy, playful bark, and decided everything was okay. She wrapped a towel about herself and went into the kitchen to get her cup of coffee so she could start bathing.

Looking out the kitchen window, she saw that
Chingon
was playing in the front yard with one of the cats like they were best friends. She felt proud of herself that she hadn't panicked with the dog's barking. It had been years since all those terrible abuses of war and destruction, but still she was always very alert and ready.

Getting her coffee, she was going back down the hallway to the bathroom when she decided to go back and lock the front door. Yes, she was an adult, a married woman, but also she was ... a child of war.

AFTER SALVADOR FINISHED
his breakfast, they all went outside, and Fred Noon excused himself from Kenny and Archie, saying that he needed to speak to his client Salvador privately.

Kenny nodded and said that he'd see them all back at his garage. Archie said that he'd mosey his way through town, take care of a few things here and there, and maybe catch them later.

“Sal,” said Fred Noon as they walked alone over to his Buick, which was parked across the street in front of the Twin Inns Hotel, “I just don't have the connections up in L.A. like I have down here in San Diego, so these racist sons-of-a-bitches are going to stick your brother with all they can! I'm sorry,” he added, “but I really thought I was going to be able to break their asses, but I wasn't.”

Salvador nodded. They were standing alongside the statues of the great big white chickens at the entrance to the famous Carlsbad hotel. The truth was that Salvador had half expected this, because the whole deck was stacked against
los Mejicanos
in this country from the word go.

Ever since he and his family had crossed the border at El Paso, Texas, it had been nothing but war. Not an open war of cannons and guns like it had been in Mexico during the Revolution, but a hidden war of laws and companies twisting everything in favor of the
gringo
and totally against the Mexicans. But, also, he was finding out that not all
gringos
were in cahoots with these laws and companies; no, some Anglos were pretty good, fair-minded people.

Salvador now looked up into Fred Noon's face and said, “Don't worry, Fred. You're a good man. You don't bullshit me or hide, so I'm sure that you did everything you could. I respect you, and so does my family. We will get through this one way or another, don't you worry.”

“Damnit,” said Fred, “if this don't beat all! I bring you bad news, and you turn it around, trying to give me comfort. I really love doing work for your people, Sal. I bring news like this to an Anglo client, and he's all over the place in panic and ends up trying to blame me. You people got guts,” added Fred Noon, “I'll say that for you!”

Salvador laughed. “Well, what else can we have, Fred, when we've been knocked down for so long, that it all looks up to us.”

Fred Noon laughed, his bright blue eyes losing their fierce-looking, hawk-like fire. “I guess you're right, and maybe this is the real strength of this country, its immigrants, who've had it so bad elsewhere that everything here looks good.”

“That, I don't know about,” said Salvador. “All I know is that nothing is free in this land of the free, especially for us
Mejicanos.
So, well, we got to take our chances, and sometimes it works and sometimes it don't.”

Fred moistened his lips, looking at Salvador in the eyes. “I'll keep you posted,
amigo
,” he said in Spanish. Fred spoke perfect Spanish. He liked going fishing down to Baja California a lot. “And if I see any break, I'll call you. Give my best to your bride,” he added, “and say hello to your mother. You got two fine women with you, Salvador, two fine women.”

“I know,” said Salvador. “That was always the plan, ever since
mi mama
started telling me how to pick a wife, and I was only about four years old. Do you need a couple of bottles, Fred?”

“Sure, I could always use some, Sal. Best damn whiskey in the whole area! And those bastards up in L.A., they had their feet up on their desks, drinking your whiskey, and laughing how they'd done in some
chile-belly
greasers! Oh, I wanted to get 'em! But Los Angeles is a whole other ballpark from San Diego, especially when the Feds get involved.”

“So what do I tell my mother about Domingo?” asked Salvador. “Two years?”

“No,” said Fred, licking his lips. “I'm sorry, but you better tell her three, four, maybe even five.”

“I see,” said Salvador. This was a tough sentence. Domingo had only been caught with liquor. “Then that son-of-a-bitch from Washington, he's going to get away with having used barbwire on my brother's face?” asked Salvador, suddenly getting angry as he remembered how Domingo had been worked over in such a vicious, cowardly way! Salvador would've loved to get that FBI guy alone for just five minutes and teach him what was what.

Fred Noon nodded. “Yeah, Sal, and I almost had the racist bastard, if I could've just convinced the judge that we were talking about a White man. because your brother has blue eyes and red hair.”

“So then if you could've convinced the judge that my brother was a White man, it would've been against the law for that FBI guy to beat him with the barbwire?” asked Salvador.

“Yeah, that's right,” said Noon.

“So then to beat White men with barbwire is against the law, but to beat Mexicans like dogs with barbwire while they're handcuffed and can't fight back is okay?”

Fred Noon nodded.

“And the darker the Mexican, the more it's okay?”