Thirteen Senses by Victor Villaseñor
After all, she was her mother’s daughter, and she was pregnant, and so she had to keep in mind, like her mother had always told her, that men came and went just like the Wind and Fire, and so it was up to a woman—whom God had entrusted with the carrying of the child—to keep the Holy Waters of Creation going.
Lupe breathed again, and she felt full.
God was with her.
God was Here, right now, as surely as He’d been with the Virgin Mary, Mother of Jesus, when She’d been pregnant with Sacred Life, too!
Lupe began to Pray.
She’d found her Crying Tree.
She’d found her Crying Tree, Here in this strange land, and so she was good now as her mother and her grandmothers had also been good before her—con Papito Dios!
THAT NIGHT back in their home in Carlsbad, Lupe helped Salvador get the cactus thorns out of his legs and hands and backside. But the little, tiny, fine thorns that were between his fingers they couldn’t pull out and so these, they rubbed with a mixture of lemon, garlic, and masa de maiz. But still, the itching of these tiny thorns between Salvador’s fingers kept him awake most of the night, giving him terrible nightmares.
In the morning, Salvador immediately suggested to Lupe that they go and see the priest who had married them. “And whatever he says, I’ll do it, Lupe,” said Salvador, “because all I want is for us to be happy. I don’t want another night of bad dreams. We’ve been so happy, Lupe, and that’s what I want for us: happiness.”
“Oh, this is wonderful,” said Lupe. “And this way we can give all the money to the Church and cleanse our souls!”
“What!” yelled Salvador. “Just wait! Hold on! I never said anything about giving all our money to the Church!”
“But it’s dirty money, Salvador,” said Lupe. “So it needs to be blessed and made pure. Come on, let’s go, so we can be clean once again, here inside.”
“You mean right now?” he said.
“Yes,” said she. “I mean, go give all of our money right now!”
Now it was Salvador who wasn’t so sure he wanted to go to see the priest.
“Look, Lupe,” he said, swallowing, “maybe we should just work things out for ourselves.”
“But Salvador,” said Lupe, “you’re the one who said we should go see the priest, and that you’d do whatever he said because you want us to be happy.”
“Yes, I did say that,” said Salvador, scratching the left side of his head as he tried to think. And he’d set up everything with Father Ryan on how to handle this situation of his liquor making with Lupe, but my God, this young bride of his had put a wrench into the whole thing with her idea of giving their money to the Church.
“Well, then I agree with you,” she said. “That’s a very good idea, so let’s go, and while we’re there, we’ll talk to the priest about your gambling, too. Oh, this is wonderful! I’m so happy for us, Salvador, we are going to be people de honor once again!”
Now, it was Salvador who wasn’t quite sure who was moving who. It took three more days of Lupe talking to Salvador before he finally agreed to go and see the priest who’d married them.
Salvador was sweating nails as they drove from Oceanside to the little stone church in Corona. Lupe, she was so excited, she couldn’t stop smiling.
Getting to the Church later that morning, Salvador started to feel a little more confident that maybe, just maybe, things would work out in his favor. Because when he’d stopped by late that night a few days before, he’d given this man of the cloth a case of his finest bottles of twelve-year-old whiskey, telling him that he wouldn’t be able to bring him any more whiskey, because Lupe thought that alcohol was the tool of the Devil and she didn’t want him making any more.
“I see,” had said the tall, dignified man of God. “Well, this being the case, why don’t you bring Lupe by to see me, before you do anything rash.”
“Well, if you insist,” had said Salvador, acting very innocent.
And so now, here they were, he and Lupe, parking their car in front of the church, and he felt pretty sure that maybe everything was still going to go his way, since he’d stacked the deck in his favor.
On the other hand, Lupe had really nailed him to the wall with her wanting to give all their money away.
Inside, the old priest was waiting for them, and with a big, generous smile, he greeted them and ushered them down the aisle and past the altar to his private quarters. Lupe had never been inside this part of a Church before. She could hear their footsteps echoing on the shiny hardwood floor. She walked on her tiptoes, not wanting to offend God.
At the end of the long hallway, they came to a large, heavy door. Inside was the priest’s study, next door to where he and Doña Margarita had done their drinking. He closed the huge door behind them with a heavy thud. He saw how Lupe immediately started looking at the walls lined with his books. He also noticed how she watched him go behind this desk, sit down and put his hands together like a tent on top of his desk.
“Please, be seated,” he said.
Lupe and Salvador did as they were told. The man of God took a big breath.
“Do you like books, Lupe?” asked the man of God, seeing how Lupe was now reading the different titles of his books.
“Oh, yes!” she said with excitement, feeling so good to be near so many legendary titles!
“I’m glad to hear that,” he said, taking several deep breaths. “I’m a great lover of books, too, especially the classics. You see, I never had the good fortune to travel much but I can’t tell you all the places that I’ve been because of books. Books were my first love as a youngster. I do believe that they are what kept me out of trouble and eventually took me into my studies for the priesthood.”
Lupe had never heard a priest talk about his personal life before. Suddenly, she felt very much at ease. “That’s what my best friend and I used to do up in our box canyon in Mexico, too,” said Lupe. “Every chance Manuelita and I had, we would read, especially books of geography and we’d travel all around the world! I used to love my reading and learning about how other people live in faraway places!”
“But I hope you haven’t stopped reading, have you, my dear?” asked the priest.
“Well, yes,” said Lupe, becoming embarrassed. “Books are, well, you know, expensive, and my family and I were always moving from place to place, following the crops.”
“But you’re not moving anymore,” he said. “Salvador has told me that you have a fine home in Carlsbad now.”
She nodded. “Yes, that’s true,” she said, feeling very proud. But, then, she remembered why they’d come to see the priest. “But you see, Father—” She didn’t know what to say. She felt all nervous inside. “—I haven’t been feeling very well,” she added.
“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.
“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
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.