Thirteen Senses by Victor Villaseñor
“Two hundred is just a few lousy dollars?” said Salvador, smiling.
“Two hundred isn’t that much!” screamed Archie. “People are dying! People are killing themselves! The whole country is going to hell and I’ve been protecting your ass, and I don’t get paid shit for being a deputy! I do all my work just to help our people. I got no money coming in like you, Sal! Hell, you’re doing better than anyone I know!”
Salvador said nothing. He just looked up at the big lawman as he raged on and on. He now knew that he was, in fact, holding all the aces, or Archie wouldn’t be this mad. He let the lawman scream on and on. After all, he could now afford to be calm. There was nothing that Archie could ever do to him again. Because he, Salvador, now not only had the money, but he also had the contacts.
Archie had cooked his own goose.
“I’ve known Palmer since high school!” continued yelling Archie. “Do you really think he would have ever even talked to you, if I hadn’t introduced you?! Hell, no! His family comes from San Francisco!”
“I thought they came from Tucson, Arizona,” said Salvador, rubbing in a little salt.
“What? Tucson? Oh, yeah, that was before San Francisco, when they was into mining. They’re one of the oldest, most influential families in the whole West! You had no right going to him behind my back, you bastard! I ought to pound you into the ground right now!” screamed Archie, raising up his huge arms as he continued cussing out Salvador and threatening him with bodily harm.
Finally, Salvador had heard enough and put down his first ace. “You just got a little too greedy, Archie,” he said calmly.
“What did you say?!” yelled Archie, not quite having heard him because of his own screaming.
“Too greedy,” repeated Salvador. “Your game is a good one, and it could’ve gone on forever, Archie, if . . . you just hadn’t gotten so greedy.”
Archie stopped his rage and took a deep breath, pulling up his gunbelt and taking a good, long look at Salvador. “Too greedy, eh?”
“Yeah,” said Salvador, putting down his next ace, “if you had asked for fifty, I would’ve never gone asking questions, Archie.”
“Fifty, eh?”
“Yeah, or maybe even a hundred, and I would’ve just paid it, because you’re right, Palmer never would have spoken to me if you hadn’t introduced us, and so you did have money coming, but not two hundred.”
“Okay,” said Archie, easing off and gripping his long nose with his huge hand and pulling on it. “So maybe I did lean on you a little too much. But what do I got coming now, eh? Seventy-five?”
“No, nothing,” said Salvador, putting down his third ace.
“Nothing?!” yelled Archie. “Why, you son-of-a-bitch!”
“NO, YOU’RE THE SON-OF-A-BITCH!” Salvador now bellowed! He’d had enough and he was going to now show Archie the full power of not just three aces, but all four! “You go around acting like you’re our people’s hero, always doing this and that, giving food and drink and everything, but all the time you’re lining your own pockets with our money! You lie to us, Archie, telling us that we can’t go to the gringo and talk to him ourselves, but have to go through you! You act like only you know how to do this great gringo-magic, and it’s no magic at all! Palmer’s just a regular, good guy! Why didn’t you just have the guts to deal me an honest hand, Archie, and tell me that you wanted some money for yourself for setting up the deal?!”
“Because, well, I . . . ah,” faltered Archie, not knowing what to say.
“Because the truth is, Archie, that you like to keep us—your own people—weak and scared so you can then look big and smart and strong.
“You’re like the Catholic Church at its worst! Like one of those angry, bad priests back home who always preached of hell and damnation, telling us all about the Devil and the end of the world, so he could keep us all in slavery with TERROR!
“I owe you NOTHING, Archie! Nada, nada, NOTHING! You hear me, not one damn little dollar! In fact, it’s you who now owes me!” added Salvador, putting down his final ace with all the power of a man who long ago had befriended the Devil as well as God, and so Here ‘there’ was no way anyone could scare him with either.
“I owe you?!” said Archie, still not understanding. “And how in the hell do you figure that, Mr. Smart-Ass?!”
“Because I did you a favor,” said Salvador. “The biggest damn favor any man can do for another human being in this country.”
“And what might that be?” asked Archie. “You told Palmer that I’m a crook and tried to shake you down?”
Salvador only smiled. He loved it. He’d won. He’d saved himself two hundred dollars and Archie was going to go along with it. “No, Archie,” he said calmly. “I did the opposite; I told him nothing. That’s what I did for you, I told him nothing.”
“Nothing?” said Archie. He was completely baffled now.
“Yes, nada, nada, nothing.”
“You mean you didn’t tell him anything about the two hundred that I was charging you?” he asked.
“Exactly, I didn’t tell him nothing,” said Salvador.
Archie still didn’t quite get it. “Why not?” he asked suspiciously.
“Because,” said Salvador, “Palmer likes you, Archie, and he respects you. And so I didn’t want him knowing about our own problemas.”
“I’ll be damned,” said Archie, now catching on to what Salvador was telling him.
“I didn’t want him thinking badly of you or of me,” continued Salvador. “No, I want this rich, educated, powerfully-connected man thinking only the best of us, that we’re both honest, hard-working, good people, Archie, so he can then feel good and safe about working with us and our people now and in the future.”
Hearing this, Archie grinned. “Why, you slick son-of-a-bitch!” he said, laughing. “You know,” he added in all sincerity, “sometimes I think I got you all figured out, Sal, but then you throw me a fast one like this and I see that I don’t know you at all. My God, you’re one hell of a smart hombre! And you’re right, I do agree I owe you one! I really do, you bastard!”
“Yes, and this is a big one that you owe me,” added Salvador with a little-happy grin.
“Hey, slow down ’em horses,” said Archie. “You better not be getting any wild, greedy ideas on me, you son-of-a-bitch!”
Salvador only smiled. “I won’t,” he said. “I’m a professional, Archie,
and a professional card player never rides too much on one hand. No, a pro likes to ride home on many hands so no one feels the burn.”
Archie roared with carcajadas. “Well, whatever that means, all I know is that you cut one hell of a mean deck, Sal! Yeah, I have to admit that you got me this time!” he said.
“No, Archie, understand, you got yourself.”
“I got myself?”
“Yes.”
“Look,” said Archie, “I ain’t no professional gambler or nothing, so all I know is that I’m out two hundred and in debt to you, you son-of-a-bitch! But I’ll get you next time!”
And Archie laughed and laughed, and Salvador could now see that this man had missed the whole point. There would never be a “next time.” That game was over. Archie truly had cooked his own goose. He’d just lost all of his power over Salvador for a cheap, little, greedy two hundred dollars.
Greed had no respect or understanding of Power.
For long ago, Salvador had learned that Greed was based on Fear and Fear, of course, had no lasting power.
Salvador glanced up at the Heavens and thanked the Stars above that he’d had the good fortune to have been raised by a woman who’d taught him that the Real Power of Life, la Vida, wasn’t measured in muscle, or weapons, or from one’s feet to our head, but from our head TO THE SKY for we were GIANTS who knew how to “live” without Fear of Life or Death, Devil or GOD!
“LUPE!” SAID SALVADOR, coming back into the house after seeing Archie off, “let’s get all dressed up in our best clothes! I want to celebrate! I
Salvador and Lupe got dressed in their finest clothes, the clothes that had been tailor-made for them by that exclusive little dress shop owned by Harry in downtown Santa Ana. He put on his beautiful navy blue pinstripe double-breasted suit and his fine white panama hat with the wide black band and the tiny red feather that he’d gotten off a red-shouldered blackbird. She wore her beautiful royal blue suit and her coat with the soft, dark fur around the collar.
“As soon as we get a little ahead,” said Salvador, as they went out the door with their daughter and got in their grand Moon automobile, “I want to go back up to Harry’s shop and get us some more new clothes, querida! That Jewish man, Harry, was always good to me. He’s the first man to ever give me credit. Credit, Harry explained to me, is the future!”
“But my clothes are just fine,” said Lupe.
“Yes, but I want for us to spend some money just for the hell of it!” said Salvador. “Besides, Harry and his wife, Bernice, probably need the business. Everyone is hurting real bad, Lupe!” It was midmorning by the time Lupe and Salvador left Carlsbad, going over to Corona to see Salvador’s familia. Then just this side of Lake Elsinore, Lupe asked Salvador to please pull over, so she could change Hortensia.
“I want to put on her pretty little dress that Sophia made for her,” said Lupe, “so she’ll look her best for your mother, Salvador.”
Salvador pulled over, under a group of large California sycamores. Hortensia was almost a month old now, and she was filling out, just like Sophia had said that she would. She was a beautiful baby. She had her mother’s wonderful, good looks and her father’s dark eyes and long, thick eyelashes.
Salvador got out of the car to stretch his legs and relieve himself. Just looking at Lupe and his daughter, he felt overwhelmed. He took several deep breaths and watched Lupe baby-talk with their daughter as she changed her, and he just had this sudden urge to hug them, squeeze them, to eat them all up and take them into his body.
There was so much that he wanted to tell his wife and child, so much that he just wanted to take out of his brain and heart and soul and hand over to them, so they could then understand once and for all how much he truly loved them!
He watched Lupe finish changing their little daughter, and he saw Hortensia’s tiny feet and tiny hands and those tiny, little, cute nails on each toe and finger . . . tears of joy came to Salvador’s eyes. This was, indeed, a Blessed Holy Moment.
He wiped his eyes and hoped to God he could live long enough to see his child grow. He prayed he could maybe even get to the age of forty without getting killed or ending up in prison. No male in his familia had ever gotten past the age of thirty, who hadn’t ended up behind bars.
Salvador breathed and watched Lupe finish putting knitted shoes on their daughter that Sophia had also made, and he was so grateful to be alive after all these years of running and hiding and dodging bullets.
Tears of joy continued streaming from Salvador’s eyes.
DRIVING INTO THE BARRIO, a young black billy goat ran across the road. Salvador had to swerve not to hit it. The owner of the goat came running out of his house, yelling. It was the old schoolteacher from Monterey, Mexico, Rodolfo Rochin, who’d been having trouble with his eyesight the last couple of years.
“Watch where you’re going! Or you’ll be paying for a goat!” yelled Rochin.
“Okay!” said Salvador. “I’ll pay for the goat right now!”
“Oh, it’s you, mi general!’’ said Rochin. He’d been calling Salvador “his general” ever since they’d tried to put on that strike at the rock quarry outside of Corona years back. “How have you been?”
“Pretty good,” said Salvador. “Lupe and I have just had our first child. So why don’t I buy that goat from you, and then you bring him over to the house and we’ll barbecue him. Eh, come and bring your whole family, and we’ll have a fiesta!”
“The honor will be mine,” said the elegant old man. “Good to see you, señora,” he added, addressing Lupe with a tip of his hat.
Lupe nodded to him. He’d been at their wedding. “Good to see you again,” she said.
Rodolfo bowed respectfully to her. “And the goat,” he said, “will be a present from me to your first child, Salvador.”
“That’s very generous of you,” said Salvador. “But these are hard times, Rodolfo. Let me pay you for the goat.”
“Well, all right, if you insist,” said the schoolteacher.
“How much?”
“Oh, let’s say fifty cents,” said Rodolfo.
“How about fifty cents and a pint bottle,” said Salvador, fully knowing that the man liked to drink. “And then you help me with the killing and the barbecue?”
“That would be my honor,” said Rodolfo, and he tipped his hat again to Lupe.
Lupe nodded to him once again, too, then she and Salvador drove on to his mother’s house, just up the block.
Parking their Moon automobile, Salvador’s whole familia immediately came rushing out to see them—Luisa, Epitacio, Jose, Pedro and little Benjamin. Then came the grand old lady herself, Doña Margarita. She had a white bandage wrapped about her head.
“Oh, she’s so beautiful!” everyone was saying about Hortensia.
“Here, let me hold her!” said Doña Margarita, reaching for the baby.
“No, mama,’’’’ said Luisa, cutting in. “You better sit down first. You know how you’ve been lately.”
“What happened to her head?” asked Salvador of Luisa.
“Oh, at the church, you know, one of her old lady friends stoned her just as I knew they would.”
“Sssssh!” said Doña Margarita. “She only stoned me because you half choked her to death and put that idea in her head.”
“Now you’re blaming me, mama! Me, who saved your life!”
“But what are you two talking about?” asked Salvador. “What woman stoned you, and why?”
“Does it ever really matter why,” said his mother. “The important thing is that it’s over. Now let me hold your baby. Oh, she’s so beautiful! Just look at her eyes!”
Salvador turned to Luisa.
“Don’t look at me,” said his sister, “it was our mother who was holding court with Moses and brought this whole catastrophe upon herself!”
“You were talking to Moses, mama?” said Salvador. “The Moses of the Bible?”
“Yes, why not,” snapped the old woman. “But enough of that. I want my granddaughter,” she added, pushing Luisa aside and reaching for Hortensia once again.
But as she took the infant from Lupe, she lost her balance and almost fell. Jose caught his abuelita in his arms and helped her to sit down on the running board of the old, abandoned truck in their yard. The old woman never let go of the child, holding her to her heart.
“What are you going to name her?” asked Doña Margarita. “Have you decided yet?”
Salvador glanced at Lupe, then back at his mother. “We, ah, already named her. Her name is Maria Hortensia. But, well, it wasn’t really us who named her, mama?’
Everyone went silent. They were all staring at Salvador, trying to understand.
“It was Lupe’s sister Maria,” continued Salvador, “who took the baby from Lupe while she was sleeping and baptized her Maria Hortensia without our knowledge.” He swallowed. He felt so ashamed. He could see his whole family was shocked. “You see,” he added, “Lupe’s sister had a terrible dream, and I guess the dream scared her so much that she—”
“All right, no more!” said Doña Margarita, seeing how uncomfortable the whole story was making Salvador and Lupe. “The important thing is that she was baptized, and with such a beautiful name! Why, she has the name of the Mother of God and then she was blessed with the name of a big, beautiful flower! How perfect for such a gorgeous child! Now get away, all of you! I need to speak to my newest granddaughter alone!”
“But, mama,” said Luisa, “you really shouldn?
“GET!” snapped the old woman. “Get away all of you! Or I’ll take a stick to you right now! And don’t think I can’t! I’m still very quick!”
And she laughed, truly enjoying herself, and began to sing to Maria Hortensia. Lupe didn’t know what to do. She didn’t want to just leave her little daughter with this old woman, whose head was all bandaged up.
“Come on,” said Salvador to Lupe. “She’s raised dozens of children. She knows what she’s doing.”
Reluctantly, Lupe began to go with Salvador and the others, but she didn’t like it. Then Doña Margarita, who was rocking Hortensia in her arms as she sat on the running board of the old rusty-red truck, saw Lupe leaving with the others, and said, “No, not you, Lupe! You stay with me!”
“Oh, okay,” said Lupe, quickly coming back to the old woman and her child.
“You see, Lupe,” said the old woman, pulling Lupe in close on the running board, “we—the mothers—need to welcome this little woman-child into the world!”
Hearing this, Maria Hortensia screeched with joy, kicking her feet.
“See, she understood me,” said the old woman, kissing the child again and again. “Please understand, Lupe, that children—no matter how young—truly comprehend what people say. In fact, I’ll tell you, many a child’s life has been ruined by parents not realizing this and saying hateful things in front of them. I swear, Lupe, children actually understand more of what we are really saying than we, ourselves, understand. Just like dogs and cats understand what is going on within a familia—even before the family knows itself—so do children. For they are our latest messengers straight from God.
“Eh, isn’t that right, mi hijita?” said the old woman, turning to Maria Hortensia, “you already know everything there is to know, don’t you? For you are an Angel, our latest little Rayo, Lightning Rod, from the Heavens.” Maria Hortensia looked straight up at the old woman and started kicking wildly once again. “See, Lupe, she knows, she Knows!”
Lupe was astonished. “I’ve never seen her kick like this before,” she said.
“Watch this,” said Doña Margarita. “Hortensia, do you remember flying about in Heaven with Papito Dios and the Angels?”