|
Red and blue lights reflected in his father’s eyes as he peeked
through the window at the scene in front of their house. Several
police cars were parked outside, some on the street, some on the
yard, and at least a dozen officers were all facing the front door,
weapons drawn. Alejandro wondered what his father had done to
draw so many cops to their doorstep.
“Looks like they found me,” his father said casually, as if talking
about the weather. “Our lawn’s been turned into a pigsty.”
He chuckled to himself as he let the curtain fall back across
the window and sat down to light a cigarette. Outside one of the
officers was trying through a megaphone to coax his father into
coming outside.
“We know you’re in there, Hector,” the officer said, “Come out
with your hands behind your head...”
His father listened for a moment then scoffed, turning his
attention back to loading shells into a sawed-off shotgun. “Want
me to surrender, do they? What do you think, Henry?”
His brother sat on the floor, his fingers caressing the pistol
that rested in his lap as if it was the face of his lover. “Never surrender.”
Hector nodded approvingly at his oldest, then looked at Alejandro.
“What’s wrong with you, boy? You look pale as a ghost.”
“What are you gonna do?” Alejandro asked.
Hector stood up. His father was a big man, all muscle and
bulk, with a tattoo of a dragon on his bare chest that wrapped
around to his back. His unshaven face was all planes and angles,
and his brown eyes looked at him with arrogance.
“What do you think I’m gonna do? I’m going out with a bang,
and taking as many of those cop-punks with me as I can.”
“Me too,” Henry added, rising to his feet and checking the clip
in the gun for the fourth time, “I’m with you, pops.”
Hector gave him a playful shove to the chest and laughed.
“That’s my boy! What have I always told you? Live by the gun....”
“...die by the gun,” Henry finished. Alejandro could not believe
what he was hearing. They were actually excited to get killed.
“You’re both insane!” He shouted, “Just give up and they’ll let
you live.”
“Live?” his father spat, “They’re gonna put me away for the
rest of my life Lobo. Now if I had to choose whether to live like
an animal at the zoo or die like a man, well, you know what my
answer is.”
“For El Olvidado,” Henry said, tying his red bandanna around
his head, “For the eastside.”
“Look,” Hector said, “You’re mind ain’t right Lobo. Get Cesar
and your grandmother and take them to the back room and look
out for them. Henry and I will come get you when it’s over.”
When it’s over? Alejandro thought, Does he really think that
they’re gonna live through this?
“They’re coming around the back,” Henry stated as he glanced
outside, his voice filled with a dark eagerness, and his eyes
burned with a manic bloodlust.
“It’s time,” Hector stated, “Go now, Lobo.” Alejandro stood
rooted in place, not wanting to believe that this was really happening.
He looked at his father and brother, mirror images of
each other, and tried to say something, anything, but the words
caught in his throat.
“Now!” Hector spun him about and shoved him hard, causing
him to stumble. He took one last look at them, then found that
he could control his legs again and ran to the back. Behind him,
he heard a loud crash as something or someone went through the
front door, followed by a deafening boom as his father unleashed
the shotgun’s fury.
He found his grandmother and his younger brother already in
the room and huddled on the floor, his grandmother’s eyes closed
and her mouth moving in silent prayer. He closed the door and
sat down next to Cesar, placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder.
His brother looked up at him, teary eyes wide with fear as the
sound of gunfire resounded from just outside the door. It was as
if a war had just erupted in their own house.
Footsteps came down the hallway and the door was flung
open. His father entered, Henry slung over one shoulder, the
shotgun slung over the other. He laid Henry down on the floor,
the front of his shirt covered in blood, his breathing shallow and
his face twisted in pain. His grandmother cried out in shock as
she saw her felled grandson. His father sat down on the foot of
the bed, cigarette still in his mouth, and dumped the spent shells
out of the sawed-off and chambered two more. He was covered
in blood, though whether it was his or someone else’s was hard to
tell. He crouched down next to his fallen son.
“You did good son, real good,” he assured him, “I’m proud of
you.”
Henry tried to respond, but all he could manage was a gurgling
sound from his throat as he coughed up more blood. Something
slammed into the back door and booted feet could be
heard in the dining room.
“It’s ok son, just sleep now. I’ll take care of the rest.” He
paused, then added, “I’ll see you soon.”
He stood up, taking a long pull on his cigarette and letting
it out. “You boys make me proud, okay? Lobo, you’re the oldest,
and it’s gonna be up to you to take care of Cesar and your
grandma, you got it?”
Alejandro nodded solemnly, watching as Henry’s chest
stopped rising.
“Mother,” his father continued, “I’m sorry I didn’t turn out the
way you thought I would.”
“Te odio!” she shouted, glaring at him through watery eyes.
“I know, I know,” he admitted, “I’ll be out of your life soon
enough.”
He looked at them one last time before he turned his attention
to the figures creeping down the hall. The shotgun sounded twice
more, so close that it caused Alejandro’s ears to ring and he could
barely hear the cries of pain over it. Hector was reaching into his
pocket for more shells when he was caught in a maelstrom of
gunfire that did not let up, even after he had lost the grip on his
weapon and had fallen to his knees, the cops unleashing their
fury on the man that had killed several of their comrades.
When the barrage finally let up, Alejandro lifted his head.
The pungent smell of burnt gunpowder stung his nostrils and
the smoke burned his eyes. He saw his father on the ground, his
chest ruined and misshapen from the multiple rounds it had
absorbed, sprawled next to his oldest son. The officers were standing
over him now, asking him questions, but he did not hear any
of them, his sight on his father’s fixed eyes and the look of satisfaction
that was frozen permanently in them.
Alejandro awoke with a start, his heart pounding in his ears
and his body covered in sweat. Slowly, his dream world faded
away and his room appeared in its place. He let out a breath
and collapsed back on his bed, closing his eyes and waiting for
his strung nerves to relax. His clock read 6:40, twenty minutes
before his alarm would go off. He tried to go back to sleep, but
gave up quickly, his mind fully awake even if his body wasn’t.
He got up and opened his blinds, letting in the blue-gray light
of early morning. Picking a towel up off the floor, he stumbled
down the dark hallway to the bathroom and stepped into the
shower.
He flinched as the icy water ran over his skin, trying to shock
his body out of its lethargy. When he was finished, he toweled
himself off and looked in the mirror as he got ready. He was tall
and wiry, his arms corded and his chest hardened from stocking
shelves at the local grocery store. His dark hair was cut short and
combed forward, held in place with a glob of gel. He had a boyish
face that was dominated by a hawk nose and ended in a short
beard. Hazel eyes stared back at him, thoughtful, lucid pools that
revealed nothing of his emotions or moods. Down his right forearm
was tattooed the word Lobo.
When he was as satisfied with his appearance as he was going
to be, he wrapped the towel around his waist and headed back
to his room. He could hear his grandmother in the kitchen as
she began preparing breakfast, the enticing smell of her cooking
filling the house. He glanced inside Cesar’s room as he passed,
finding it vacant as it usually was these days. Cesar spent most of
his time either with Angela, his girl for this week, or with Carlos,
the latter’s reputation in the neighborhood causing him to worry.
Back in his room, he sifted through the clothes that were
strewn on the ground, searching for anything that did not appear
to be too dingy or smell too bad to wear. He settled on a white
t-shirt and black denim shorts that were cut well below the knee.
Taking one last diagnostic of himself in the mirror, he began to
leave, then stopped when he saw the crimson bandanna hanging
over his doorknob. After a quick mental deliberation, he left the
bandanna where it was and continued through the door.
In the kitchen, he found his grandmother bustling around
the stove, stirring and seasoning with a practiced hand. She was
short and plump, her light brown hair streaked through with
white, and her face seamed from age. Brown eyes flicked back
and forth from pot to pan, keeping a mental tab on everything
that was cooking.
“Good morning, Henry,” she greeted, not looking up from
what she was doing, “You’re up early this morning.”
He frowned. She had been recently confusing him with his
other brothers and his father often, and also forgetting simple
things that she should know. “I’m Alejandro, grandma.”
She stopped what she was doing and took a long look at him
before returning to her task. “I’m sorry, mijo. You look so much
like him, I get mixed up sometimes. You want something to eat
before school?”
He thought about saying something then decided against it.
Instead, he looked at the chorizo, potatoes, and buttered tortillas
as his grandmother piled them onto a plate and nodded hungrily. “Sure.”
“Well, I’m done with the stove,” she replied, setting the food
down on the table and taking a seat in front of it, “You can make
what you want.”
He stared at her in disbelief and she gave him a curious look.
“What? This is for me. You’re old enough to make your own
damn food.”
He couldn’t help but laugh, “You’re really going to finish all of
that by yourself?”
“Of course, I am,” she replied, “I don’t have to watch my figure
for anyone, so I eat what I damn well choose to.”
“Don’t you think that’s a little unhealthy for you, though?”
She shrugged. “I figure I got about ten minutes to live, and
I’m going to enjoy it.”
He sighed in resignation and decided on a breakfast of cereal
and took a seat next to his grandmother.
“How are you doing in school mijo?”
He nodded. “I’m getting by. The hardest part is staying awake
in class.”
“I’m proud of you, Alejandro,” she continued, “No one from
our family has ever gone to college before.”
“It’s only a community college.”
“Still though, you can have a better life if you stick with it,
something different than what your father had.”
They sat in silence for awhile, each lost in their own thoughts
as they ate. When he was finished, he put his dishes in the sink
and kissed his grandmother on the cheek.
“I’ll see you when I’m done with school, abuela.”
“Okay, mijo. Have a good day.”
He picked up his backpack from where he had left it by the
doorway the previous day and went through the front door.
Outside, the day was sunny and warm, and he could already
feel the heat that the day promised beginning to build. He fished
around in his pack for his car keys as he walked down the stone
path to the driveway where his car, a 1961 Impala, was parked.
The car had been a project that he, Cesar, and his father had
shared. It had taken years to restore it back to cherry, and when
their father had died, he and his brother argued constantly over
who should get it. They finally decided the winner of a basketball
game gets the car. The game, of course, stretched into an
ugly best-of-seven match that left both brothers angry with one
another, neither speaking to the other for the better part of a
month.
He got inside and turned the ignition, feathering the throttle
as he did so, and the engine roared to life. After letting it warm
up for a few minutes, he backed out of the driveway and was on
his way.
The neighborhood he drove through was made up of old,
dilapidated houses with neglected yards, often with chain-link
perimeters. There were few cars, fewer still that weren’t on cinder
blocks or rusting on lawns. Sidewalks were uneven and
overgrown with weeds, and the streets were spider-webbed with
cracks and spotted with potholes. Dogs lay apathetic on their
owners’ porches with forlorn looks on their faces. The sunlight,
bright and cheerful above, seemed dull and gray below. This was
the part of the city that had been forgotten and swept under the
rug, the denizens within left to fend for themselves. Even police
were seldom seen, knowing that the eastside belonged to El Olvidado.
*
He arrived in his history class ten minutes early, a few people
already there, and took a seat in the back corner. He got out
a pen and his worn notebook and began working on the ending
of a poem he had been writing. After awhile, the class began
filling up and the professor walked in, greeting the class and taking
attendance before promptly beginning his lecture on the
Cold War. Alejandro tried to pay attention, but his mind quickly
began to wander. The professor was a smart man, but he was one
of those typical gray-haired professors that droned on and on
in monotone and could put anyone to sleep. He returned to his
poem, looking up once in awhile to give the impression that he
was taking notes.
Time finally showed some mercy on him, and the class was
dismissed, the professor shouting out the pages to read for homework
as Alejandro followed the rest of the students filing out the
door. When he was outside, he went to the central plaza and took
a seat in front of the fountain, watching the cascades of water
shine like liquid crystal as it caught the sunlight and listening to
its steady cadence as it fell.
He took out his notebook and began writing again. He
enjoyed poetry, finding it a way to get all the thoughts and emotions
that cluttered his mind and give them a place. It helped
him deal with stressful times and when he was particularly
depressed about something. It was like having someone to talk to
whenever he needed to vent.
“You writing about how much you love me?” Marissa asked as
she took a seat next to him, exchanging a quick kiss with him as
she did so.
“Not exactly,” he admitted.
“What?!” she exclaimed in mock surprise, “I don’t know what
else you could possibly be writing about then.”
“Here,” he said, handing her the notebook, “It’s just another
poem I’ve been working on.”
She took the notebook from him and began to read, and he
studied her while she did so. She had a small build with soft,
cream colored skin that seemed to radiate even in the daylight.
Her black hair was highlighted and glistened in the sun as it
flowed past her shoulders. Her face was round and flawless and
set with dazzling emerald eyes that shone with an innocence that
made him ache when he looked into them.
“This is awful,” she said bluntly, bringing him out of his daze.
“Yeah,” he said, feeling as if he had just been punched in the
gut, “I know it’s not that good.”
“No, I mean it’s good,” she corrected, handing him back the
notebook, “but what you’re writing about is just dark and really
depressing.”
“I know. It’s just how I feel sometimes.”
“It’s because you miss me so much.”
She rested her head on his shoulder and the two of them
watched as life happened around them. This was one of the few
times they saw each other during the week. She was from a suburban
family and her parents were strict about her dating and
who she saw. After going out in secret for about eight months,
she finally managed to persuade them to meet him. As soon as
they saw the way he dressed, the car he drove, and, above all, the
tattoo on his arm, their minds were made up about him. They
had been keeping close tabs on her ever since, and her mother
had even tried to convince her to go out with their neighbor’s son
instead.
So they savored every moment, just enjoying each other’s
company, and hoped their time together would never end.
“I hate hardly seeing you,” Marissa said after a time, “We
should be able to be with each other more.”
He sighed, already knowing this conversation by heart and its
futility, but went along with it anyway, thinking in vain that perhaps
it would end differently this time. “Me too.”
“Can’t you just leave and move somewhere else? You don’t
wanna be in a gang all your life, do you?”
He shrugged. “No, I guess not, but I don’t know where I
would go.”
“What if we were to get an apartment together?” she asked, her
eyes widening from her excitement at the thought, “It wouldn’t
matter what my parents think about you then. It doesn’t have to
be anything fancy, just a one-bedroom somewhere, away from all
the gangs and stuff.”
He mulled the thought over. “You think we’re ready to move
in together?”
“I don’t see why not. We’ve been going out for almost a year.”
“It’s expensive. Even with the both of us working we would
barely make it.”
“But we’ll be together,” she smiled, “and that would make it
worth it, wouldn’t it?”
He nodded. “Of course, it’s just...I don’t think I can leave
Cesar and my grandma behind.”
Her smiled slowly faded. “Oh....well, I guess they can come
too...”
“I don’t even know if they would, though,” he admitted, “My
grandma is the physical embodiment of stubbornness, and Cesar
is no exception. He’s taken my dad’s death hard, and I think
some of the older members have put it in his head that he needs
to be just like him. He’ll be tougher to persuade.”
“Will you try, though?” she asked.
“Of course, though I know living with my family is not your
ideal scenario. You should think it through a little more before
you commit to it.”
They got up and he walked her to class.
“What if they don’t want to leave?” she asked.
“I don’t know.”
“You’re not like them,” she said, touching the side of his face,
“You’re different. I can see it in your eyes. You don’t belong there.”
He nodded, though he wasn’t sure what she said was true. “Maybe. I’ll
talk to him when I get home.”
“Okay. Love you.”
“Love you too.”
She kissed him, her lips soft against his, and he pulled her
close, liking the way her body felt against his own. He held her
tightly, knowing each moment that passed was closer to the
moment she would leave. Bells sounded from nearby and she
pulled away, giving him one last mesmerizing smile before disappearing
through the door. He stood there for a few minutes
afterwards, still feeling her presence against him, warm and
comforting like the light of the sun, and silently wished that she
hadn’t gone.
It was late in the afternoon when Alejandro returned home,
the sweltering heat coming off rooftops and pavement in waves,
giving an almost surreal backdrop to his surroundings, as if he
were in a dream. His grandmother was in her usual place on the
sofa being hypnotized by daytime television, looking away briefly
to greet him as he came in before returning to her trance. He
deposited his pack on the floor of his room amongst the rest of
the clutter and collapsed on his bed, his mind numbed by the
incessant lectures of the day, and let himself doze.
Once he felt somewhat rested, he reached over for the remote
to his stereo and hit PLAY. A few moments later, the grinding
riffs of Adam Jones and the haunting singing of Maynard James
Keenan came out of his speakers as he began tackling the mess
that was his floor. He was in the middle of a solo on the imaginary
guitar he was playing when Cesar appeared in the doorway.
“How can you listen to this stuff?” his brother asked, shaking
his head in disapproval, “It sounds like a bunch of guys clubbing
a cat to death with a guitar.”
He laughed. “It’s a lot better than listening to somebody talk
about the size of the rims on their car and the size of the ass on
their ho for five minutes.”
“At least I can understand what they’re saying in my music.”
Alejandro grinned and looked at his brother, whom he hadn’t
seen in several days as he walked around his room as if he had
never been in it before. Cesar was a head shorter, but with a more
compact frame. His hair was shaved almost to the skin and a red
bandanna was tied around his head, covering most of his umber
eyes. His face was round and showed the shadow of a beard with
a pencil-thin mustache below a stubby nose. On his right forearm
was tattooed Oro.
“Haven’t seen you in awhile,” Alejandro said, “You been going
to class?”
Cesar shook his head. “Not since last week.”
“What have you been doing?”
He shrugged. “Nothin’ much. Been down Angela’s or out
with Carlos and them.”
“What are doing hanging around Carlos? He and his crew are
crazy.”
“Yeah, I know. We fucked up some scraps pretty bad yesterday.
They were walkin’ through the park like it was their own turf, so
they picked me up and we jumped ‘em. After we were through
with those two, even their own mama’s won’t know who they are.”
Alejandro felt his ears begin to burn. “Why would you go and
do something like that?! Now they’re going to come looking for
you!”
Cesar shrugged. “Let them; I’ll be waiting. They know not to
step foot on our territory unless they got an army with ‘em.”
He shook his head. “This is serious. You could get killed by
doing stuff like that. You’ll end up like dad and Henry.”
“What’s wrong with that?” Cesar replied, “Everyone thinks
pops and Henry are heroes. They stood up for El Olvidado,
even when it cost them their lives. What’s up with you, anyway?
You’re soundin’ like the punk that everyone is sayin’ you are.”
“What are you talking about?” Alejandro asked, “Who’s been
saying that?”
“I just said everyone, didn’t I? Carlos, Juan, Jesse... hell, even
Angela and Lorena have been sayin’ that you’re more concerned
with college and that shit than El Olvidado. You never even
wear the color anymore. They’re saying that you’re selling-out
and that you got your priorities misplaced. Or maybe you don’t.
From what I’m hearing from you, sounds like your priorities are
straight, in your head anyway.”
Alejandro sat down on his bed, thinking over what his brother
just told him. Cesar shook his head. “There’s more, too. They’ve
been wanting to beat your ass bad, maybe even kill you. If it
wasn’t for me, I don’t think you’ll be alive right now.”
“What do you mean?”
“Why do you think I’ve been hanging around with them so
much? I’ve been vouching for you, and they’ve kept their distance
because you’re my brother. Lately though, it’s been gettin’
harder to. Carlos said that you’re not only disrespecting the gang,
but pops and Henry too. He says he’s glad that at least one of us
is tryin’ to live up to them.”
Alejandro sat quietly for awhile, letting the news sink in.
He was not surprised by their actions, and deep down he had
expected it.
“I’m sorry, bro,” Cesar said, “If I were you man, I would get
my act together, or run.”
“You think I should go?” he asked.
Cesar sat down next to him. “ I always knew that you were
different. Just by lookin’ at you I can tell that you’re not comfortable
in the way you act, even the way you dress doesn’t seem
right. You don’t even talk like us. You don’t belong here.”
Alejandro nodded his head slowly. “Marissa wants to get an
apartment together. I wasn’t sure because I know they’ll come
looking for me if I leave.”
“Maybe for a month or so, but not very hard and not beyond
our lines. They’ll be pissed for sure though, so I would make sure
I never stepped foot here again.”
“That’s not the only reason holding me back,” Alejandro
admitted, “I didn’t want to leave you and grandma here. I want
you both to come with me.”
Cesar shook his head. “I don’t wanna leave, Lobo. This is my
home, and I’m satisfied with it. Everything I’ll ever need is right
here.”
“It’s dumb, Cesar. Killing over colors and territory that doesn’t
even belong to them in the first place. Don’t you want something
better than this?”
“Not really. I guess we don’t have the same wants in life. Here,
I got people that got my back. Here, I can be someone important,
even if it is just within a few miles of one town. Out there
though, I’m nothin’. I may be street smart and able to survive,
but I’m not book smart like you, and surviving out there is a lot
more complicated. Life is simpler here. Dangerous, but simple.
They would see me as just some street thug, like how Marissa’s
parents saw you. That’s all I’ll ever be, but you can do something
I can’t: You can prove them wrong.”
“I’ll worry about you too much, and what about grandma?”
“Talk to grandma, but I’m not sure if she’ll go. If she wants to,
then we can move her once you got a place set up. As for me, I’ll
be fine. I’m not as dumb as I look.”
Alejandro smiled. “Could’ve fooled me.”
Cesar shoved him playfully. “Better than not being as smart
as you look.”
He shoved him back and in a matter of moments Alejandro
ended up on the ground with an arm around his neck, not pressing,
but firm enough to hold him in check.
“I don’t hear you tappin’,” Cesar teased. Alejandro slapped
the floor with his hand, swallowing his pride and a gulp of air as
his brother released him.
“You may be in college ‘n all, but remember, I can still kick
your ass.”
Alejandro grinned. “Get out of here, you dumb ox.”
“School boy!” Cesar shouted back as he went down the hall.
*
The stars were beginning to manifest themselves in the night
sky, like shards of glass against a sheet of velvet, as the sun
descended wearily below the western horizon. The lithe form of
a barn-owl glided effortlessly overhead as it searched the nearby
fields for a meal. High in the firmament, a plane flew seemingly
amongst the stars, it’s red light blinking steadily. Alejandro
watched it all unfold as he laid in the bed of the ‘81 El Camino
that was parked permanently in his back yard. The car was to be
the next project after the Impala, but now stood derelict and forgotten,
a silent witness as time marched steadily onward.
He laid thinking for sometime, watching as the crescent
moon waxed in the heavens, and it was beginning to wane when
he finally made up his mind. He sat up, surprised at how certain
he suddenly was, and then at why he had even debated it at all. It
was time for a change in scenery. It was time for him to go.
He hopped out of the bed and headed towards the house, a
cool breeze blowing from the north offering a brief reprieve from
the stuffiness of the summer night. He swatted at a few annoying
insects as they buzzed around his face hungrily and stepped
through the door and locked it behind him. He was excited
about his decision, able to live the way he wanted and with the
girl he loved, and went to Cesar’s room to tell him, only to find it
vacant. He frowned and went to the kitchen to get a roll of garbage
bags before going to his room.
Once there he began shoving everything into a bag, ready
to move on already. He was trying to decide what to pack next
when he heard a car come to a screeching stop outside his house
followed by shouts and yells. A cold feeling developed in his gut,
and he rushed out the door immediately.
Outside, he found Carlos and Julio pulling Cesar out of their
car and laying him on the ground, his shirt covered in blood.
“No!” Alejandro screamed as he knelt down next to his brother,
Cesar’s face pale and gaunt, and he figured it was a mirror image
of his own, “What happened?!”
“It was those fuckin’ scraps from the park,” Carlos said, rather
calmly, “They opened up on us.”
Dammit! Alejandro leapt to his feet, “I’m calling an ambulance!”
He started towards the house but felt a strong hand pull him
back by the arm. He staggered and turned to find that the hand
belonged to Carlos, the big man shaking his head.
“What are you, stupid?” Carlos asked, “If you do that, then
they’re gonna ask questions and then cops are gonna start snooping
around.”
“So?!” Alejandro shouted, “What does it matter?”
“So,” Julio said, “It matters ‘cause we were drivin’ around in
their territory and shot a couple of ‘em.”
Alejandro stood dumbfounded. “You took Cesar on a driveby?!
Are you insane?! He’s only sixteen! What am I supposed to
do then, watch him die?!”
Carlos shrugged and lit a cigarette. “Maybe he’ll live, maybe
he won’t. It’s in God’s hands now. If he dies, then at least he went
out like a man. You should be proud.”
Alejandro couldn’t believe the two of them were talking
and acting like they didn’t notice his brother was laying on the
ground in a puddle of his own blood. “I’m getting an ambulance.”
He tried to run, but this time Carlos grabbed him and threw
him on the ground next to his brother, and he found himself
looking down the barrel of Julio’s pistol.
“You need to calm the fuck down,” Julio said, “We already
told you no ambulance. One man ain’t above the gang. Everyone
knows that.”
“You got somethin’ else to worry about anyway,” Carlos said,
letting out a stream of smoke from his nostrils, “Someone just
shot and maybe even killed your brother, your own blood. Now
we’ve been real lenient on you, as I’m sure Cesar has told you.
Now it’s time for you to prove how much of a man you are, and
how much Olvidado you are.”
“What are you talking about?!” Alejandro yelled, not taking
his eyes off his brother.
“I’m....sorr...” Cesar managed before he began coughing up
blood violently. Alejandro held his hand tightly.
“I know. Just rest now,” he said, trying to comfort him, tears
coming forth in torrents, helpless as he watched Cesar begin to
shake uncontrollably.
“Please don’t leave me,” he begged silently. Another dry heave
and Cesar’s hand went limp, his glazed eyes, staring intently at
nothing.
No!
“What I’m talkin’ ‘bout is simple,” Carlos continued, as if
watching Cesar die had been no different than watching the
news, “Are you going to avenge your brother, or not? It’s the least
you can do for him after all the trouble he went through to keep
you safe, don’t you think?”
Alejandro wiped his eyes on the back of his hand, shaking
with rage and grief, then paused as he saw the butt of a gun
tucked in his brother’s waistline. He looked away quickly, hoping
they hadn’t seen him notice it. Julio was talking now but he
wasn’t paying attention, his mind focused on what he was about
to do now.
“Yeah,” he whispered to no one in particular, “I’ll avenge him.”
Before he knew what he was doing, he yanked the gun free
from his brother’s waist, aimed it directly at Julio, and pulled the
trigger. It sounded like thunder had just clapped next to his ear
as Julio disappeared behind a spray of red mist. For a moment
he sat stunned, not believing what he had just done, as if he
had watched it happen from somewhere outside his body. Then
he heard Carlos shouting and he regained his senses and bolted
towards the front door, firing behind him blindly, the recoil
of the gun sending shockwaves through his body, almost causing
him to drop it. He flung the door open and slammed it shut,
throwing himself on the ground as Carlos’ pistol retorted, bullets
piercing the air where his head had been only a moment before.
He laid on the ground, unable to move, the weight of what he
had done beginning to settle on him, Julio’s face, contorted with
fear and then pain, was frozen in front of his eyes. He sobbed,
feeling sick to his stomach. Cesar’s face was there as well, looking
at him accusingly. He should’ve done something, but what?
“Mijo!” his grandmother shouted, running to his side, “What
happened?! What’s going on?!”
He tried to reply, but the words stuck in his throat.
“Puto!” Carlos shouted from somewhere outside, “I’m gonna
blow your fuckin’ head off!”
He sprang to his feet and half-dragged his grandmother down
the hall. “Get back in the room!” he shouted, “Stay down!”
“No!” she pleaded, “Not again, Hector!”
He ignored her cries and slammed the door shut just as the
front door was kicked in. He whirled around, Carlos seeing him
at the same time, and they both raised their weapons at each
other. They fired, and Alejandro felt as if molten lava had been
poured on his chest. He caught a glimpse of Carlos clutching
his throat, eyes wide in surprise, before the world began to spin
around him.
He slumped against the wall, trying desperately to catch his
breath, but his lungs were not responding, and he could no longer
feel the searing pain he had felt a moment ago as his body
began to go numb, its senses shutting down one by one. A silent
scream came from his throat , full of rage and despair at what
was happening, and he was shaking, though he could not tell
whether it was from his body reacting or from fear as he realized
with a terrible clarity that he was dying.
He thought he could hear his grandmother’s voice, but it
sounded distant, as if she was calling to him from across a great
void. Random images began appearing in his mind, memories of his
childhood, of Marissa, of the final minutes of his father’s and brother’s
lives, and of the events that led to the end that seemed inherent
in his family. Slowly they all faded, one by one, into oblivion.
Then death enveloped him in its comforting embrace, softly
caressing him, as if he were its child, and gently carried him away
into nothingness.
|