No Second Chances (7 page)

“Yo, son, wait up,” a voice called to him.

Santiago's back muscles stiffened, but there was no place to run.

Eddy smiled when he approached. “I'm sorry about tonight. I guess I was just kind of nervous, you know, seeing your mom and John after so many years.” He rolled his eyes. “Talk about a humorless bunch. I thought I was going to drown in boredom back there. Whoa,” he said, seeing the words carved into Santiago's truck. “You having girlfriend problems?”

“What do you want?” Santiago asked, annoyed.

“Hey, I have a buddy who can fix that up for you real cheap. It'd be fun. You and me hanging out like old times. You used to cry whenever I left the house. You remember that?”

“That was a long time ago,” Santiago said, glaring past his father down the street. “Thanks, but no thanks.”

Eddy started to rub his hands together, as
if he were cold, despite the warm evening. “How 'bout we grab some coffee?”

“Coffee?”

His father blushed and pulled something out of his pocket. He handed it to Santiago. It was a yellow plastic chip, like the ones Grandma Trini got at the underground gambling dens she liked to frequent after church. “I've been sober ten years come September.”

Santiago squeezed the chip, trying to break it in two. “That's not hard to do when you're locked up,” he snapped. “Why are you really here?” Santiago asked, pinning his dad with his gaze.

Eddy lowered his eyes and shoved his hands in his pockets. “I came to see you.”

“We don't need you.”

Eddy gave a nervous chuckle. “I can see that.” He looked over his shoulder at the complex. “Looks like your mom's doing all right all by herself.”

“She is. We both are.” A pang of guilt stabbed him. Even though his mom dressed nicely and they had the condo, Santiago knew they were living paycheck to paycheck. His mother had borrowed money last month to pay the mortgage. But it was none of his father's business.

His father's face softened. “C'mon, son. I'm your father. Give me another chance.”

“No,” Santiago said, his voice cold as ice. “You're not my dad. You quit being my dad the day you raised a fist to my mom's face.” He opened his truck door and stopped. “You know the day they took you away?” His father nodded. “That was the happiest day of my life,” Santiago said. He jumped into his truck and drove down the street.

A
week later, Santiago's truck looked like it had been in a fight. Silver tape concealed Maria Elena's parting words like Band-Aids. When Santiago made his fortune, he promised himself the most expensive paint job ever. He took a calming breath. There was a lot riding on this evening.

It was the night of the wrestling match and Santiago had stopped at his
tío
's restaurant to borrow some olive oil. He thought about how the oil would make his body glisten. It would drive the ladies in the audience wild. As he
grinned, two men in heavy coats and dark hats walked in front of his truck toward the Mr. Taco Man shop.

Santiago took a moment to admire the new fast-food joint. His eyes widened at the grand opening promotion hanging loosely off the cartoon Taco Man mascot.
Four tacos for a dollar! What a deal
, Santiago thought. Then his eyes darted back to the curiously dressed pair. Something about those two bothered him. Was it the thick winter coats this time of year? Or how they stared into the windows like hungry kids? Santiago couldn't shake an uneasy feeling. He didn't like strangers poking around his community.

Santiago walked right up to the man in the wide-brim bucket hat and tapped him on the shoulder. “Can I help you?” he asked. The stranger jumped back into the light, revealing a familiar face behind a pair of dark Locs sunglasses and a penciled-in goatee. “Fabi!” Santiago cried in surprise. Then he turned to her partner
and swiped the beret off his head. It was her best friend, DJ Milo. Santiago looked around for Alexis; she was never too far away. But Alexis was nowhere to be found. He turned back to Fabi. “What are you two doing? And where's your sister?”

Fabi shushed him and gestured for him to follow her into the doorway of a neighboring building. Then she glanced up and down the block. When Fabi was sure no one would sneak up on them, she leaned in and whispered: “We're infiltrating the enemy.”

Santiago busted up laughing, “Who? Mr. Taco Man?” He looked to Milo for confirmation.
Poor dude
, Santiago thought, taking in Milo's long coat and furry collar. Milo was so in love with his cousin he would go along with any harebrained idea she had. It was obvious to everyone but Fabi.

“Your cousin wanted to see who exactly was eating in there and what they were ordering,” Milo explained, pulling off his oversized
women's sunglasses. “Then we were going to sneak into the kitchen to find out the recipe for Mr. Taco Man's secret sauce.”

Santiago pressed his lips together to hold back a chuckle. His cousin was harmless, but this was not the time to encourage her crazy activities. He had to find Alexis. “Fabi, don't you remember? Tonight's my wrestling match. I need you and your sister to be there. Alexis is supposed to be my Leafy Valley Mojo girl.”

Fabi glanced at her watch. “Alexis took off about twenty minutes ago with her friend Justin. She said she had mariachi rehearsal.”

“Practice? On a Saturday night?” he asked in a skeptical voice. Santiago used to be in the Mariachi Club at school. He was pretty good, too. But they'd never practiced on a Saturday night when he was in it. Santiago grabbed Fabi's elbow and pulled her toward his truck. “Well, then you'll have to fill in for her.”

“Whoa,” Fabi protested, pulling away from
him. “What about my mission? My parents won't admit it, but I know they're worried about losing customers to Mr. Taco Man. If I can just find out who's in there —”

Santiago released her. “Fabi, I don't get why Mr. Taco Man means so much to you. Restaurants open and close all the time. The smoothie shop is
our
thing. This wrestling match is going to get us tons of publicity. After tonight, people are going to be fighting to get their hands on our Leafy Valley Mojo. We're business partners, Fabi — and we're on the verge of something really big,” Santiago pleaded. He glanced from Milo to Fabi, trying to read their reactions. “You're going to have to choose … Mr. Taco Man or me?”

Fabi glanced over Santiago's shoulder from her parents' old business to the shiny new neon-lit Mr. Taco Man. The idea of this fast-food bully coming into her town and stressing her parents out made her skin crawl. But Santiago was
right. The smoothie stand was their business. “Fine,” she said, surrendering. Mr. Taco Man would have to wait.

“Great!” Santiago clapped his hands together in a triumphant manner. “Can you go grab me a bottle of olive oil? It's for the show,” Santiago explained. When Fabi returned, he motioned for Milo and Fabi to hop in his truck. “We better hurry. Chubs is already at
la pulga
.” He glanced at Fabi's outfit and frowned. There was no way she could be his Leafy Valley Mojo girl dressed in men's clothes. “Do you mind changing into something sexier?”

“Santiago!” Fabi cried in horror. She looked at her face in the rearview mirror and smiled at the drawn-in goatee. With the sleeve of her coat she rubbed her face clean.

 

At night,
la pulga
looked ominous. The soft yellow glow from streetlamps cast gloomy shadows on empty stands and deserted pathways. It reminded Santiago of a scene from
some horror movie. However, Santiago was not deterred and led Fabi and Milo down toward the wrestling ring. They could hear the audience roar from outside.

“Are you a real
luchador
?” a small voice asked, pulling on Santiago's shirt. He looked down at a little boy with short black hair and red Converse who had appeared from the shadows. The kid looked about eight years old, Santiago thought. He scanned the area, searching for the boy's parents.

“Do you want my autograph?” Santiago asked, leaning down to the boy's eye level.

“Only if you win,” the boy answered and took off running ahead of them to the warehouse.

Santiago snorted, “Can you believe that kid?”

Fabi smirked. She was carrying a pitcher of freshly juiced Leafy Valley Mojo. Of all her cousin's schemes, this had to be the craziest one. She sighed loudly to no one in particular as she tugged down on the supertight red dress she'd borrowed from her
tía
.

Chubs greeted them at the doorway. He was dressed in a yellow bodysuit and black cape — like a bumblebee on steroids. Once inside, Fabi, Milo, and Santiago gasped at the enormity of the scene. A professional wrestling ring stood in the center of the warehouse under beams of harsh lights. Hopping around the mat were two shirtless middle-aged men in bright masks. A short balding man in a striped shirt was refereeing the match.

Santiago knew that although
Lucha Libre
was known for its colorfully masked fighters, high-flying maneuvers, and fancy holds, the rules were similar to American wrestling: pin your opponent to the mat for three counts and win the match. Santiago liked the masks. In some Mexican matches, the loser's mask was permanently removed and his head shaved. Santiago fingered his famous locks and was glad that this would just be a friendly game.

Lucha Libre
was all about anonymity. However, in a town as small as Dos Rios, there was
no such thing as anonymity. Santiago recognized City Council member Rey Garcia III and his old Sunday school teacher on the mat. As a kid, Santiago had liked to watch
Lucha Libre
on TV with his grandma Trini. His grandma called the
luchador
a people's hero. In the ring, every man was a fighter, no matter his class, education, or background. On the mat, every man was equal.

The little boy from outside slid up to Santiago. “I hear you're going to fight that big guy,” he said, gesturing toward Chubs. Santiago smiled at Chubs's menacing bumblebee costume.

He leaned in to the boy's ear: “I have a secret potion that'll help me get real strong.”

“You do?” The boy sounded impressed. Santiago winked.

 

Twenty minutes later, Santiago and Chubs stood in the center of the ring, bathed in a coat of olive oil, masked, and ready to begin.
Santiago raised his arms overhead, showing off his outfit. His purple pleather pants and matching sleeveless top looked great against his skin. To think he'd almost missed them, because they'd been misplaced in the women's fitness section! Santiago raised the lip of his silver mask — to let in some air — and took a moment to glance around at the audience.

There were people of all ages chatting boisterously in the lines of folding chairs set up around the ring. Children in brightly colored wrestling masks and even the hot dog vendor watched with enthusiasm. Santiago couldn't help but get caught up in the feverish energy of the arena.

Suddenly, Santiago spotted his dad standing alone at the back of the room. His mouth went dry.
Why can't he just leave me alone
? Annoyance flared up his spine. Santiago took a deep breath and tried to focus on all the potential customers. But then he noticed Juan “El Payaso” Diamante with his daughter, Maria
Elena, sitting in the VIP section of the room. Now, he definitely felt sick — he might even throw up.

From the right side of the arena, someone called out his name. He leaned over the rail to see a group of girls from his school cheering enthusiastically for him. Maria Elena also heard and she narrowed her eyes at him.
So much for anonymity
, Santiago thought. Behind him stood Fabi and Milo. In her trembling hands, Fabi held the pitcher with the magical elixir.

Chubs stared with a dazed expression from across the mat. His gold-colored mask and bathrobe couldn't hide his discomfort. Santiago gestured for him to take off the bathrobe. Chubs's eyes widened.

“Dude.” Santiago hurried over and tugged at his cousin's robe. “You got to take this thing off.” Chubs nodded, timidly removing his robe and hanging it over the rope. “Now remember,” Santiago lowered his voice. “You have to make
it look real. I don't want you to hold back.” Chubs nodded, lowering his eyes. “Just do it like how we used to wrestle when we were kids,” Santiago reminded him. “But remember, after the second bell, I'll take a drink from the Leafy Valley Mojo and you're gonna have to fall KO style. I'll try not to hurt you.” He shrugged. “But I can't make any promises.” Suddenly, the bell interrupted him, announcing the start of the match.

Santiago bobbed back and forth as he'd seen
luchadores
do on TV. Chubs may be as big as a refrigerator, but Santiago was quick. His cousin made a move and lurched for him. Santiago swiveled out of reach and raced to the opposite side of the arena. Cheers erupted from the crowd. Santiago turned and pounded his chest like a gorilla as he yelled out his wrestler name: El Puma. Then shouts for El Puma filled the air and Santiago's heart swelled. The cheers felt good, but he was supposed to be losing. Santiago didn't have long to worry
about that, however, because a heavy weight crashed into him, knocking the wind out of his lungs.

It took Santiago a minute to realize what had happened. He was on his belly. The right side of his face was squashed down into the mat and he couldn't move his arms. All he could hear was the voice of the referee counting off.
No!
Santiago's eyes shot open. This was not how they had planned it. Santiago thrashed and squirmed under his cousin's enormous weight. “Get off me, you muck.”

“Sorry,” Chubs mumbled, rolling quickly to the right.
Whoa, that was close
, Santiago thought, eyeing Chubs angrily — too close. Santiago's heart was pounding and there were beads of sweat dripping down his shoulder blades. He glanced around, trying to orient himself. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Chubs rush toward him again like a swarm of yellow jackets. Santiago dodged him just in the nick of time. Santiago was going to crack a joke when a
heavy hand grabbed his collar and tossed him back like a rag doll into the ropes. Santiago wanted to call a time-out, but the crowd was ablaze. People were out of their seats and crying out to him to fight back. He had them right where he wanted. If only he could keep his cousin from beating him to a pulp.

This was the moment to introduce the drink, he thought. Santiago glanced at the referee, willing him to call time. Chubs had other ideas, however, and tackled him to the mat. Santiago tried to pull himself up to no avail. Chubs was taking his part of the act a little too seriously.

Out of the corner of his eye, Santiago saw Fabi waving frantically to him from the side-line. She had a cup of the Leafy Valley Mojo in her hand with a straw dangling out. If only he could get his lips to the drink. Santiago tried to claw his way out from under Chubs and toward Fabi. But his cousin weighed a ton. Then the bell rang. It was the end of round one and Chubs
sprang up and off his legs. Santiago rolled over and sighed with relief.

When he had regained a little strength, Santiago crawled over to Fabi. She was stammering about what a stupid idea this was. Milo had the sense to get a cold wet rag to help wipe the sweat from under Santiago's mask.

Santiago could barely keep his head up. He glanced over in Chubs's direction. Chubs was laughing with his head thrown back as some girls giggled in his ear. It took Santiago a full second to realize that those were the same girls who were supposed to be rooting for him.
What backstabbers!
he thought. Then he noticed El Payaso Diamante reach out to shake his cousin's hand. What's he doing?
Oh, no
, Santiago thought, feeling his insides knot up. El Payaso leaned in to Chubs's ear. He said something that made Chubs gasp in surprise. Chubs shot him a worried glance. Then to make matters worse, Maria Elena came up behind her dad and gave Chubs a kiss on the cheek. Maria
Elena glanced up at Santiago and mouthed the words “You're dead.” He forced himself not to worry. He had no time to question what was going on. It was time to act — time to sell his product. He grabbed the elixir from Fabi's hands and turned to the audience.

“Ladies and gentlemen.” The crowd hushed to listen. “Many of you may think this match is over. Some of you may have even placed bets against me. I know I am smaller than my opponent.”