Thirteen Senses by Victor Villaseñor
“What did you do, Kenny?” said Salvador, cutting him off. He, too, had seen this same kind of stuff going on for some time now, especially in those areas that had been the more affluent, and had the most to lose.
“I rammed their car with your truck and kept going ’til I’d pushed their new roadster off into the ocean below. Then I gave a barrel of whiskey to the parents of those little girls and told ’em that we’d set them up in the liquor business, but if we ever heard of ’em selling their kids again, you— the Al Capone of the Southland—would have them torched and buried alive!”
Salvador started laughing and laughing. It had been Kenny White whom he’d taken along with him the night that he’d taught that farmer what was what. He’d wanted a white man with him so that the farmer would see that it wasn’t a racial issue. “Al Capone of the Southland, where the hell you get that, Kenny?”
Kenny shrugged. “I don’t rightly know, Sal,” he said. “It just came out. ‘Capon,’ don’t that mean in Spanish ‘he who castrates?’ “
Salvador’s left eyebrow went up. “I’ll be,” he said. “I’d never thought of that. You’re right, ‘capon’ does mean in Spanish ‘he who castrates’!”
“See,” said Kenny with a big shit-eating grin, “nobody deserves that handle more than you. Hell, you probably deserve it more than Al Capone, himself! Besides,” he added, “I wanted to put some real fear into those parents’ hearts real quick and I couldn’t come up with anything else.” He breathed. “I think you’d better take a look at your truck, Sal. I really, well, put the gas to the metal when I hit their roadster.”
“Don’t worry about it, Kenny,” said Salvador, still laughing. “Just get it fixed for me, or get us a new truck.”
“A new one will probably be better. You should see it. I put it in reverse and I was flying when I hit those two guys. Then I was after ’em with the .45 you keep under your seat.” He was laughing now, too. “They ran like hell! Man, it felt good! They’d seen the Devil!”
“Good for you, Kenny, showing the Devil to some people is the only language they understand. So what do you think, will they really sell that barrel for us?”
“Hell, Sal, they’re gonna be your best retailers! They’re working the main street right there in San Clemente!”
“Damn good location!” said Salvador.
DAIRYMEN WERE MILKING their cows and throwing the milk away. Farmers were plowing under their crops of string beans, squash, and melons. Victoriano was driving around as fast as he could collecting milk in buckets and vegetables in crates and taking everything to the barrio to distribute among the people, who now didn’t even have the gas to drive their old vehicles around to get the free food.
On one trip, Victoriano came home with a truckload of beautiful, ripe watermelon—a new seedless variety that Whitehead had invented. But there was no market for anything, no matter how wonderful. Now all the ranchers were just letting their workers help themselves. Victoriano parked the truck full of the gorgeous melons in front of his parents’ house and told everyone on the street to just take all they wanted. Quickly, it became a watermelon party. Adults and children, goats and chickens, everyone was eating to their heart’s content.
Then, that same afternoon, just as the day was beginning to cool, Lupe—who was now staying inside most of the time—felt a little warm and decided to go outside and get some fresh air. Going out to the backyard, she saw that her brother was cutting another great big beautiful melon in half under their walnut tree. She walked over and sat down on the bench next to him. She was feeling a little strange.
“Can you stay here by the melon,” said Victoriano to his sister. “I’ll be right back. I’m going to go inside and let it cool for a few minutes. In warm weather like this, it usually only takes about ten minutes for a melon to get ice-cold.”
“Okay,” said Lupe, knowing full well how this evaporation process worked. “I’ll stay here and keep the birds off of it.”
“Thanks,” said Victoriano, going back into the house.
Lupe sat there under the big tree alongside the watermelon. Glancing around, she remembered that this was the exact same spot where she’d been on the day that Salvador had come with the priest to ask for her hand.
Lupe put both of her hands to her stomach. Something was going on inside of her. Two days ago, she’d gone to see the doctor and he’d told her to start taking castor oil, and ever since then she’d been going to the bathroom constantly.
She breathed easy, trying to relax and enjoy the last of the going sunlight. Huge flocks of birds came by, swooping down and up in unison as they flew home. She could smell the orange trees behind her and hear the birds flying by overhead. Truly, Santa Ana had become a wonderful place for Lupe and her familia. The orange trees gave fragrance of Heaven, and the ocean, over there in the distance, gave a sweet coolness to the late afternoon.
Victoriano came back outside to check on the watermelon. “Oh, it’s cold,” he said, cutting himself a big, juicy slice. “Here,” he said to Lupe, cutting her a slice, too. “Taste it! I swear, these are the sweetest melons I’ve ever tasted, and they’re rotting by the thousands in the fields, yet people in town are starving.”
“That’s true,” said Lupe, taking the slice and beginning to eat it. But then, she felt a little funny feeling on the left side of her face, and she stopped eating. Something very strange was happening to her. The watermelon had no taste for her, whatsoever.
“Poor Señor Whitehead,” said Victoriano, shaking his head, “he’s a good man, and this is the best crop he’s ever had, but still he’s going to go broke again. ‘The finest watermelons I’ve ever raised,’ he said to us, ‘but I got no place to sell them, boys,’ he said to all of us workers. ‘So help yourselves!’ And the poor man just drove off. I hope that he doesn’t get drunk again. Poor hombre. But at least it wasn’t old man Irvine that poisoned his crop this time.”
Seeing their older sister, Victoriano yelled into the house. “Sophia, come on out with your kids! This melon is sweeter than honey! Come on!”
Lupe had to cover her ears. She just didn’t know what was going on inside her. She felt like maybe she had to go to the bathroom again. But she couldn’t move. The whole left side of her body was now going numb. So she just sat here, listening to Victoriano talk as he cut more watermelon slices for Sophia and her kids.
“I swear, Lupe,” continued Victoriano, “this season alone I’ve already brought home truckloads of the finest avocados, the best tomatoes, cucumbers, string beans, melons and oranges. Hell, all we need is a little salt and a few tortillas and we got everything here in the barrio for free!” He turned to the house again. “Hurry up, everybody!” he yelled.
Sophia was laughing and playing with her kids as she came across the yard. Getting under the huge tree where Victoriano was slicing the watermelon, she took just one look at Lupe, and exploded! “Oh, my God, Lupe, you’re having your baby!”
“I’m what?” said Lupe.
“You’re having your baby,” repeated Sophia. “Come, quick, let’s get you inside before the Devil does any more mischief. Victoriano, help me! And you!” she said to her boys, “run to the corner store and have them call the doctor immediately!”
The two boys took off, eating their watermelon as they ran.
“I want Salvador,” said Lupe, as Sophia led her into the house.
“Don’t worry, he’ll be here,” said Sophia.
“No, I want him right now!” said Lupe, realizing that these were contractions that she’d been feeling for some time. “My God, Sophia, please get me mi esposo!”
“Hurry, Victoriano,” said Sophia, “help me get her inside, then you go find her esposo immediately!”
“Sure,” said Victoriano. “I’ll get him, Lupe.”
By the time the doctor arrived, thirty minutes later, Doña Guadalupe and Sophia had everything well in hand. But Lupe, on the other hand, didn’t know what was going on. It was all happening so quickly, and
“Oh, please, dear God,” Lupe kept saying between contractions, “let it be a small watermelon. Please, dear God, a very small melon!”
“But what are you talking about?” asked Lupe’s mother.
“Oh, don’t you remember?” said Sophia, laughing. “She’s just saying what that old midwife always used to tell us all back home in La Lluvia. that having a baby is like making love to a watermelon.”
“That foul-mouthed old woman, I never liked her!” snapped Doña Guadalupe. “Now don’t worry, mi hijita, everything is all right. Just relax and don’t fight the pain.”
But the contractions were coming closer together and Lupe could swear that she could actually feel her bones beginning to move. She began to sweat. Her sisters Maria and Sophia were talking to her and massaging her legs, her hips, and telling her to keep calm, to relax, and let the pain go.
Her mother was with her, too, and Lupe was sweating more and more. Sophia began to wipe the sweat off Lupe’s face with a cool cloth that felt so good to Lupe, but for some reason, Lupe could only feel the cloth on the right side of her face. It was like she didn’t have any feeling whatsoever on her left side, the same side that had felt a little funny when she’d tried to eat that watermelon outside in the backyard a little while ago.
VICTORIANO DROVE OVER to try to find Salvador. He’d heard that he had a house somewhere just south of Tustin where he made his liquor, but he’d never been there. Finally, a few miles southeast of town, just this side of the big old Irvine house, he spotted Archie’s big black Hudson parked in front of a farmhouse and figured that Archie was maybe visiting Salvador.
Driving up, Victoriano could now see Archie and Salvador under a big pepper tree to the side of the farmhouse. They were talking and seemed very upset about something. Parking and running toward them, Victoriano heard Domingo’s name mentioned. And rumor had it that Salvador’s brother was in prison at San Quentin.
“Salvador,” said Victoriano, “Lupe is having the baby!”
“She’s what?!” said Salvador.
“She’s having your baby!”
“Oh, my God! Is she all right?” asked Salvador, feeling his heart beginning to pound. He fully realized that this had been a difficult pregnancy for his young wife.
“Yes, she’s fine,” said Victoriano, lying. He didn’t want to be the one to tell Salvador that Lupe had completely lost the feeling of the left side of her face and they were worried that it was now traveling down that whole side of her body and could affect the birthing. “But she’s been asking for you!”
“Okay, Archie,” said Salvador. “I just won’t tell him a damned thing! Not where I’m located, or nothing! Believe me, I don’t want Domingo in my business again when he gets out, either!”
“Good,” said Archie, “because we can’t afford another screw-up! Now, get the hell out of here, and go see Lupe!”
“Yeah, but you go first!” said Salvador. “I don’t want you staying behind and just helping yourself to my barrels.”
Archie only laughed. “Damnit, Sal! Where’s your trust? When are you going to trust your fellow human being?”
“Never! You’re the law, and since the beginning of time, lawmen have been the worst thieves! Too damned lazy to do their own robbing, so they shave the good, honest robbers like sheep, hiding behind their badge!”
“Sounds pretty good to me,” said Archie, grinning.
“You bastard!” said Salvador, getting in his Moon and taking off behind Victoriano.
“Yeah, but MY DOORS are always WIDE OPEN!” yelled Archie back after Salvador. “Front and REAR!”
THE BABY WAS BORN before Salvador and Victoriano got to the house. She was a big, healthy girl, and Lupe would never forget how the doctor cut the cord and handed the baby not to her, but to her mother. Lupe wondered if this was how she, herself, had looked in her mother’s arms when she’d been born. The baby looked like a skinned-out rabbit.
Then the baby was crying, and so Doña Guadalupe wrapped her in a little blanket and handed her back to Lupe. Lupe immediately put her to her breast, and the infant began to search around with her little hands and tiny mouth, and then she was nursing, just like that—so naturally, like she’d been doing this all her life.
Salvador and Victoriano came rushing in. Salvador saw Lupe with the baby on her breast, and his whole face filled with pride.
“Is it a boy or a girl?” he asked.
“A girl,” said Sophia.
“A girl! Oh, how wonderful!” he said. “And she looks just like my mother. All wrinkled up!”
“She was just born, Salvador,” said Sophia, laughing. “She’ll fatten up and in a few days all those wrinkles will smooth out. Come and hold her.”
Sophia took the baby from Lupe, handing her to Salvador, but at first he didn’t know how to take the tiny infant in his arms. Then, once he was holding his baby, he noticed that Lupe’s mouth was cocked at an odd angle to the left, and it looked like she was trying to talk to him, but she couldn’t form her words.
Salvador didn’t know what to do. He handed the child back to Sophia and came close and kissed Lupe on the forehead and stroked her hair. The doctor walked in and told Lupe to just rest and that everything was all right. Then he took Salvador to the kitchen.
“Look, I don’t want to alarm you,” he said to Salvador, “but you’re going to have to keep Lupe here at her mother’s house for at least a week so I can check on her every day.”
“Yes, but what’s wrong with her face?” asked Salvador.
“It’s not that unusual,” said the doctor. “But if it doesn’t clear up by itself in a few days, I’ll start giving her shots. Don’t worry, everything is all right. This happens quite often,” he said, lying. “And Lupe and the baby are both very healthy. Congratulations, Salvador,” he added. “You have a fine little family started. Now let’s see if we can’t keep it small?”
Salvador nodded and walked the doctor to his car and gave him a quart of his finest whiskey.
“Oh, thank you!” said the doctor. “That’s very kind of you.”
“And this one you don’t sip,” said Salvador, grinning. “You drink it down in big, quick shots!”
The doctor laughed, remembering how he’d told Salvador to sip his schnapps. “Okay. Maybe I’ll be willing to try that. And like I said, don’t worry, everything is fine. Lupe is young and she’ll be back to normal very quickly.”
Salvador nodded, then he went back inside. Lupe’s whole left side looked cock-eyed. It was difficult for him to look at her without showing how worried he was. He silently prayed for her. Oh, how he wished that they’d used his mother for this pregnancy instead of a male doctor Americano.
THE NEXT DAY, Lupe had no feeling whatsoever on her whole left side. They called the doctor, and he came and gave her a shot. Now Doña Guadalupe was worried, too, and wanted to know what was going on, but the doctor, once again, just said not to worry and that everything was all right.
For two more days this continued, and neither Salvador nor Doña Guadalupe could find out what was going on from the doctor. Then Salvador had to leave to go on a whiskey run. While he was gone, Maria, Lupe’s other older sister, came by with her husband, Andres, in a big rush and told everyone that she’d had this terrible dream that night and so Lupe’s baby had to be baptized immediately!
“But what was your dream?” asked Doña Guadalupe.
“I can’t tell you!” said Maria. She was upset and kept making the sign of the cross over herself. “All I know is that we have to baptize the baby RIGHT NOW! IMMEDIATELY!” she shouted.
“But just wait,” said Carlota. “I might not like Salvador, but you can’t just do this without him.”
“I agree with Carlota,” said Sophia. “Dream or no dream, I will have no part of this, Maria.”
“Okay,” said Maria, “think as you like,
And saying this, Maria—a powerful bull of a woman just like Salvador’s own sister, Luisa—pushed past everyone and took the baby from Lupe, who was sound asleep, and said, “Come on, mama, quickly, you go with us, and be the madrina, and you be the padrino, Andres!”
No one knew what to say. It was all happening so quickly. And to baptize a child was a big event. What Maria was doing was completely against all customs. The parents were the ones who were supposed to choose who the godparents would be—not an aunt. An aunt didn’t just come in and kidnap the child like this. But here was Maria, going out the front door and up the street to the church where Salvador and Lupe had been married, before anyone could figure out how to stop her.
And at the church, when the priest asked for the child’s parents, Maria simply said, “Lupe, my sister, the baby’s mother, is sick, and the father is gone! So they couldn’t come, and we need to do this right now. Immediately!”
Seeing how anxious they all were, the priest took them to the small, dark room where they performed baptisms in the front part of the church. And when the man of God asked for the child’s name, Maria didn’t know what to say, but luckily Doña Guadalupe was here and so she stepped forward.
“I overheard Salvador and Lupe saying something about hortensia, the flower.”
“Oh, that’s beautiful,” said the priest. “Hortensia. So, then, we’ll baptize this child Maria Hortensia for the Blessed Mother.”
And so this was how Lupe and Salvador’s first child was named and baptized—without either one of them being present or even knowing anything about the event.
WHEN SALVADOR CAME in the following day and was told what had happened, he went into a screaming rage. “But how in the name of God could you have done such a thing?” he asked his mother-in-law, who’d met him at the front door and told him the news.