Cry Revenge (16 page)

As he spoke, George reached over and opened the door. Maria was in the middle of leaning down to pick up two of the bags when she stopped suddenly and froze. "Oh, my God," she murmured softly.

George didn't have to glance around her to know what was happening. It was all like a bad dream. Ever since he first got the telephone call, it was as if he was on a stage watching other people act out their parts. No matter what he did, he didn't believe he could change what was about to happen.

"Well, how about this shit, Emilio," Pedro said as he came through the door. "Our little nigger-lover was about to fly the coop. What's wrong, George, ain't the spades got any more money for you to suck out? Or by chance did you learn that we had heard about your constant dealing with them after you were warned not to fuck with them for a while?" Pedro's arrogance was obvious to all watching.

REALIZING THAT IT WOULD be a waste of time trying to reason with Pedro, George ignored him and spoke directly to Emilio.

"Emilio, I don't know how your brother came up with his fucked up ideas, but he's wrong as usual. I ain't had no dealings with them spades, man. The last time I sold some drugs to them was before your brother Ruben got killed!"

The words were hardly out of his mouth when Pedro reached over and knocked George to the floor with a straight right to the head. "You nigger-lovin' bastard," Pedro panted, "don't let me hear you using my brother's name in your filthy mouth again, you understand?" There was a wild look in his eyes and, as George glanced up from the floor at him, the thought flashed through his mind that the young bastard was completely crazy. It came as a shock to George. He had known that Pedro was wild, but he really had nothing to do with him before. This was one of the few times they were ever in each other's company.

"Emilio," George called from the floor. "Listen to reason, man. Don't make a mistake that both of us will be sorry for."

There was a look of indecision on Emilio's face. From it, George got a ray of hope. Before he could go on though, Pedro nodded his head and another Mexican came in and then slammed the door shut.

"Vic," Pedro spoke to the Mexican who had just shut the door, "what do you think? Should we shoot this bastard, or maybe cut him up a little?" Pedro's voice was now soft, barely heard by the people in the room.

Maria spoke up. She knew the other Mexican who had come in with them. "You, Jay Novello, I know you and all your family. Now, you know me, too. Would I lie to you, Jay?" She didn't give the young man a chance to respond but continued, "Even though this shit you guys got going with George doesn't concern me, I want to speak up. Jay, you tell them if I'm lying, hear?"

Pedro attempted to shut her up, but her voice began to rise so high that the only way he could shut her up would have been with force.

"Listen, boys, I don't have anything to lose, one way or the other, because I'm not involved," she stated loudly.

George knew that she was repeating that statement so that she would clear herself, but he didn't mind. He had taught her to look out for number one.

"Now, Jay, and you too, Emilio, you boys know me, so you know I don't have nothin' to lose in this matter, so what I say is true. When George says he hasn't done any business with the blacks lately, he's tellin' the truth. For one reason, he hasn't got any stuff. I mean it. We have had to go across town to Mickie's to cop a blow just for me, so you know he ain't got nothing. If he had it, would he go over to Mickie's and waste his money? No, not George, and you guys know it!"

Pedro let out a laugh. "You say Mickie's, huh?" he inquired, staring her in the eye.

"Sure, sure, that's who I said," Maria answered, now more sure of herself.

"Would you bet your life on it?" Pedro asked sharply, his eyes never leaving her face.

"What do you mean, will I bet my life on it?" Maria asked quickly, not liking the look in the young man's face.

"I mean, Maria, if we take the time to check this shit out and find out you're lying, your ass will be tied into this shit as deep as George's, because then we'll know that you lied trying to save his fuckin' worthless life!"

Maria tossed her head back, throwing the long black hair back out of her face. "Oh, yeah, I see what you mean. Of course, because I'm not lying. Yeah, go ahead and call. I'll give you the number," Maria said, full of confidence.

George wasn't as certain as she was. He hadn't missed the look that passed between the men when Mickie's name was mentioned. "Maria...," he began, then caught himself when she looked down at him. He didn't know what to say. George climbed up off the floor where he had remained ever since he got knocked down. It was better to remain down than to continue to get knocked around as long as you were on your feet.

"Don't worry," Maria said happily, sure now that she could straighten the trouble out. It was just like men to make mountains out of molehills. "Here," she yelled, as she fumbled around in her purse, "take this number and get in touch with Mickie. The quicker you call, the sooner we'll have this crap straightened out. Oh yes, ask him to get me a piece of stuff ready. I'll pick it up in a little while."

Pedro only grinned at her. He didn't bother to reach out and take the number from her hand. She stared at him surprised and, before she could ask any questions, Pedro spoke to the heavyset Jay.

"Okay, Jay, she says she's a friend of your people so it's only fair that you do the calling," Pedro said, his thin face almost bursting into a grin that only he seemed to understand.

Jay didn't seem too happy about his task. He stared around dumbly, not wanting to look anybody in the eyes. Slowly he made his way over to the telephone and picked up the receiver. Everybody noticed that he didn't have to ask anyone for the number. He quickly dialed Mickie's, then spoke into the receiver quickly.

From the look on his face, the people could tell that he wasn't particularly pleased about the news that he received. Jay put his hand over the receiver and spoke to the group of people watching him.

"Mickie says he hasn't seen Fat George or his woman in over a month," Jay said, relaying the message that he had received.

George just stared coldly out the window. He had already put it together. Mickie wanted his business, so what other way was easier for him to get it than to allow these young punks to do what he didn't have the nerve to do himself.

But Maria didn't take it that easily. When Jay's words finally made sense to her, she began to yell. "Let me speak to the lying sonofabitch," she screamed at the top of her voice. "I can't believe it," she continued. "It's just not possible, George." She turned to him for the first time. The open disbelief in her face hurt George. For the first time he realized just how much this woman had come to mean to him.

"Maria," he began, "don't you see what's hap- penin', girl? Somebody had to tell these lies on me, so who else could gain from it except Mickie? We should have seen through it sooner, that's all. I wish there was some way we could prove that sonofabitch is lying, but for the life of me, I can't!"

Pedro let out a chilling laugh. "You're right about that! It ain't no way in the world for you to prove it. Your proof just went out the goddamn door!"

"Emilio," George said, turning to the older brother, "can't you see through this shit? Listen, man, I don't even need the money. I got thirty thousand dollars in that suitcase right there."

Even though they didn't want to look, every man inside the apartment glanced towards the suitcase. "With that kind of money, Emilio, don't you know I'd have to be a fool to sell some dope to them spades, man? Why, I don't love them guys, amigo, I just did business with them. Better to see them strung out than our young people, right?"

George glanced around to see if his words had made any sense. He had taken a great risk telling them about the hidden money, but it was the only way he believed he might be able to save his life.

Maria stared at him curiously. She had known about the money, yet she would have never believed George would come out and tell anybody else about it. It was their life savings, everything they had worked for was packed away in that suitcase. Even as she thought about it, she realized that their troubles were worse than she imagined. George would never have revealed the location of the money unless their lives were at stake.

It was hard for her to accept that these young boys would really kill them. But George had panicked, and maybe that was all it was, she reasoned. Then she stopped. There was no use fooling herself if their lives were at stake.

Maria raised her head and began to scream at the top of her voice.

Pedro was the first one to reach her. He knocked her down with a vicious blow to the head, but it didn't hush her up. She covered her head and continued to scream. "You want to rob us, that's all," she yelled up at them. "You come in here talking about selling dope to the niggers, but that's a lie. All the time you just wanted to rob us. George, you're the fool for telling them where our money is!"

A vicious kick by Pedro hushed her up. She rolled over on the floor clutching her stomach. "Next time you open your mouth, I'll kick all your teeth out!" Pedro warned.

George turned on Emilio. "Every time you came to me sick, Emilio, I never turned you down. Never," George stated, then continued, "yet you come over to my house talkin' this shit about selling stuff to blacks when you know I never did. Okay, you want to rob me, okay, now what? Take all my money. What next? You guys going to kill me and my wife, huh? Not because of no blacks, though. Let's be truthful about it. You so-called Mexicans are just a bunch of thieves, that's all! If you had needed money, you could have come to me and got it, but that's not good enough! You want it all!"

Before he could say any more, Pedro stepped up and floored him. As he rolled over, Pedro kicked him viciously in the face. "Now, let's quit playing games. We want to know where you drop the dope off for these black studs. Okay, George, let's have the truth. No more of this robbery crap. We came for information on those niggers you run around with, and we're going to get it!"

Emilio looked as if he wanted to say something to his younger brother but just couldn't find the nerve. He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out.

Neat, well-dressed Vic pushed away from the wall. "Pedro, I don't know, man, it's not going like we hoped. Now, there's a lot of bread in that suitcase, man, so why don't we just pick it up and get the hell out of here?"

Pedro whirled on him. "What the hell are you talking about, Vic? We didn't come here like common criminals to rob and then sneak away. We came to make this dude talk about niggers." Pedro's eyes took on that faraway, wild look. "Niggers, man, that's what killed my people, black niggers!" He whirled around on his brother.

"And you, Emilio, you should feel the same way. Nothing will make you happy but the sight of some black niggers wallowing around on the ground trying to hold in their fuckin' guts! This is what you should be interested in, Emilio, not no fuckin' money some bastard made selling it to them black dogs."

Emilio wiped the sweat off his brow. He didn't know what to say to his brother. In the last few days things had changed so. Now he didn't know which way was up.

"I don't know about you," Vic stated, "but I'm damn sure interested in the money!"

At the sound of his words, Maria rolled over on the floor and sat up. "See," she screamed, pointing her finger at them, "I told you bastards that it was the money that you wanted! Come in here spilling that crap about niggers when all the time you knew it was just an excuse to rob us!"

Her words seemed to drive Pedro into a rage. The young man rushed at her wildly, kicking and punching as she rolled over on the floor trying to get out of his way. Suddenly he stopped and removed his long switchblade knife.

Maria's eyes grew large as windowpanes as she stared up at the wild man approaching her. "Oh, my God," she gasped.

As Pedro went past George, the fat man stuck out his foot and tripped the frantic young man. "Emilio," he screamed, "are you going to let your brother cut us up? Amigo, I said you can have the money, now why the bloodshed?"

"Goddamn you," Pedro screamed as he scrambled around on his knees. "I'm going to gut you, you fat bastard! You stinkin' dope-selling lard of shit!" His voice rose and fell, but his intentions never wavered. He held the knife out in front of him as he crawled towards George. Before any of the shocked men could react, Pedro had reached the prone figure and plunged the knife deeply into one of George's outstretched legs. George let out a scream of pain as the knife went in. There was more than just pain behind his yells, there was fear for his life. He knew that the wild-eyed young man meant to kill him. His only hope now seemed to be that one of their neighbors would hear and call the police.

Maria lent her voice to the screaming. She saw the blood when Pedro brought the knife out of her man's leg. Blood gushed out onto the floor. Maria screamed over and over again. She had been hoping somehow that the noisy old woman who lived below them would hear and call the police.