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Authors: Percival Everett

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The Body of Martin Aguilera

BOOK: The Body of Martin Aguilera
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The Body of Martin Aguilera

Percival Everett

 

Dzanc Books
1334 Woodbourne Street
Westland, MI 48186
www.dzancbooks.org

Copyright © 1997 The Body of Martin Aguilera by Percival Everett

All rights reserved, except for brief quotations in critical articles or reviews. No part of this book may be reproduced in any manner without prior written permission from the publisher.

Published 2013 by Dzanc Books
A Dzanc Books rEprint Series Selection

eBooks ISBN-13: 978-1-938103-75-9
eBook Cover Designed by Awarding Book Covers

Published in the United States of America

The characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

The Body of Martin Aguilera

 

 

for Pocky

Chapter One

The first day of her visit Laura asked if the light in the refrigerator stayed on when the door was shut. Lewis Mason told his granddaughter that it didn't matter. “It may well stay on,” he said, putting water on for tea, “but it doesn't matter.”

“May I have tea, too?” Laura asked, pulling up a chair and sitting at the table.

“You may have herb tea.”

“You're not drinking herb tea.”

“Herb tea isn't good for me.” He dropped the bags into the mugs.

“Is the other tea good for you?”

“It doesn't put me to sleep.”

Laura watched as he poured the water. He set the mug down in front of her and she grabbed the string and began dunking the bag in and out of the water. “What are we going to do today?”

“We're going to town for some groceries, but first I thought we'd stop and see old Martin.”

“Who's he?”

“He's somebody even older than me. He knows all the good fishing spots and when they're good.”

“When are we going fishing?”

“Tomorrow, maybe.” Lewis sipped his tea. “Drink up so we can get rolling here.”

They drove down the dirt road three miles to the highway and then north, crossed back over the river and followed a rougher road into the canyon.

“Martin!” Lewis called out, walking toward the little adobe. “It's me, Lewis Mason.” He told his granddaughter that the man had few visitors.

“Doesn't look like he's home,” Laura said.

“It's pretty quiet all right.” Lewis stepped to the door and knocked. “Martin?” He pushed the door open.

The old man was lying face-down in the middle of the room. There was blood on the floor by his head.

“Laura, you wait out here, okay?”

“What's wrong?”

“Outside, Laura.”

The girl backed away from the door. “What is it, Papa?”

“Just stay there.” He knelt beside the body and slowly pushed his hand forward. He rested his palm on Martin's back, moved it up to his neck. He found no pulse.

“Papa?”

Lewis came out of the house and hugged her. He looked up the canyon and became frightened. “Come on, honey, we have to go make a phone call.”

As Lewis stood at the pay phone outside of Archuleta's Cafe on the river, he realized that he was saying
killed
within earshot of his granddaughter. The sheriff told him to wait there at the cafe.

“You said he was real sick,” Laura said.

“Yeah, I said that, but it's not exactly true. Maybe Martin fell down and hit his head, something like that. Anything could have happened.” Lewis looked at the river. Who would want to kill the old man? He was harmless, without a cent. Everyone knew he had nothing. And if they didn't know him, they'd never find his place. Lewis shook his head.

“Are you all right, Papa?”

“Yeah, I'm okay. What about you? Are you all right?” She nodded.

“That's my girl. We have to wait here for a few minutes.”

Manny Mondragon pulled up in his county rig and spoke to Lewis through the window. “Climb in and let's go take a look.” Lewis and Laura got in.

“So, why don't you tell me exactly what you saw, prof.”

“I didn't look around too much. Martin is lying in the middle of the room. There's blood.” Then Lewis recalled that the body had been face-down. He hadn't actually seen the face of the dead man. “I didn't really see his face,” he said. “I didn't want to touch things too much.”

“That's all right,” Mondragon said.

“It had to be Martin. He had Martin's build, his clothes.”

“It's okay, prof, we'll be there in a minute and we'll see what the story is.”

Lewis felt stupid. All he had to do was lift the head and take a look. But he had been sure then that it was Martin. He suspected that the governing part of him just didn't want to see Martin's lifeless face.

“You're sure the person was dead?” Mondragon asked.

“I'm positive of that.” Lewis closed his fingers around Laura's hand, showed her a half-smile which she returned.

“Why would anyone want to hurt Martin?” Lewis wondered aloud.

“Got me,” said Mondragon. “Not money, that's a cinch.”

The car skidded to a stop on the dry dirt. They got out and walked to the house. Lewis stopped and pointed.

“I left the door open,” he said.

Mondragon moved more quickly, stepped inside. Lewis stopped Laura and followed the officer. There was no body, no blood, but there was a stain on the floor.

“He was right here,” Lewis said. “I touched him.”

“I believe you, but he's not here now.”

“So, what do you do?” Lewis asked.

“Look around. Somebody moved him or he wasn't dead. If somebody moved him, then they left signs. There's only one road into here and it comes out at the cafe. You notice anybody come out?”

“I would have seen them.”

Mondragon scratched his neck, then stepped outside and looked up the canyon. He lowered himself to a knee beside Laura. “And what's your name?”

“Laura.”

“Can you tell me what you saw, Laura?”

“I saw a man on the floor. Papa made me wait out here.”

“Did you see the blood?”

“All I saw was his feet.”

Mondragon stood and wiped his brow with his sleeve. “I'm going to take a look around.” He walked off toward a stand of aspens up the canyon.

Laura looked at her grandfather.

“The body's not there,” Lewis said.

The girl hugged Lewis about the waist. “I'm scared.”

“Don't worry, honey, everything's under control.” A sound like a rock striking the ground came from the side of the cabin. Laura clutched tighter. Another sound, sharper, like the crack of wood. “I'm going to look.” He held her away and looked at her. “Stay right here.”

“Okay.”

“Better go get in the car.” He watched the girl run to the truck and get in. He approached the side of the house, quickly, deciding that if indeed there was anyone there, he already knew of his presence. He found nothing but a tassel-eared squirrel which scurried off into the brush. Lewis' heart pounded.

“Prof!” the sheriff called out.

Lewis went back around the way he had come. Mondragon was kneeling. Laura was out of the truck and beside him.

“See anything up in the canyon?” Lewis said.

Mondragon coughed into his fist and shook his head. “No tracks, nothing brushed over.”

“Manny, I know what I saw.”

“And I believe you, but what can I say? I'll make a report, scout around and ask questions, get some help and search the canyon, get people mad at me and try not to mention your name.”

Lewis questioned the younger man with his eyes.

“People around here are superstitious,” Mondragon said. “No point in getting them mad at you or whatever else. A dead man is one thing. A dead man without a body is something else.”

“I see your point. So, are you telling me to keep this to myself?”

“I can't think of any reason for you to tell anyone. Can you?”

“I guess not.”

Mondragon looked back up the canyon.

“So, what happens?” Lewis asked.

“Like I said, I'll come back later and look around.”

“Manny, there was a man, at least unconscious, I think dead, on the floor in there. I'm not making this up.”

“I don't think you are.”

“Then why do I feel like you do?”

“Just settle down.”

“I'm sorry.”

The sheriff took his hat off and ran his fingers through his hair. “I understand. I hope he's okay, too. The old man's probably down there fishing somewhere. If there wasn't a thing living in that river, he'd still throw in a line.”

“So, I'll just keep quiet about this.”

“I'd appreciate it.” Manny again looked up the canyon.

Chapter Two

Lewis was lost. Laura sat beside him in the car, frightened and concerned about him, and he felt responsible. He was saddened by Martin's apparent death, and curious, but not angry. Just lost. He went over it again in his head, trying to figure out why anyone would hurt the old man and again came up empty. He had understood the deputy's warning about discussing the situation, just something it was his duty to say, however obvious, like asking bystanders to not wander into the field of fire at a shoot-out.

They'd come down to town for groceries and Lewis thought he had best follow through. The mundane might sooth Laura's nerves and his own. He let her push the buggy while he strolled ahead, tossing items back into the basket. The two seemed through, at least for the time, with asking each other if they were okay.

The market was the magnet. Some people needed to visit the feed store and some needed the lumber yard, but everyone needed the grocery store and it was always crowded, a place to see people as well as buy food. Lewis wasn't much on talking to people beyond greetings and how-do-you-do's and it struck no one odd that the grumpy old fart from up in the hills said nothing at all. At the produce section, Lewis sent Laura to choose their fruit while he waited at the buggy.

“You're in the way, Lewis.”

He turned to find the small face of an old Asian woman. “Old people have to stand somewhere, young lady.”

“Young lady? I'll have you know I'm old enough to be your friend.”

“How are you, Maggie?”

“Fine. What about you?”

He nodded. “Got my girlfriend with me.” He indicated Laura with a tilt of his head. She was coming back with peaches and grapes. “Laura, I'd like you to meet a friend of mine. Maggie, Laura.”

“I'm pleased to meet you, Laura.”

Laura smiled, then looked to her grandfather. “Can I get a kiwi?”

“Have you ever had a kiwi?”

“No, but may I try one?”

“You ever had a kiwi, Maggie?”

“I don't eat fruit with hair.”

“Sure, go pick one out.” He watched the girl walk away.

“Lewis, are you all right?” Maggie asked. “You seem distant.”

Lewis looked at her and smiled.

“You can't hide from an old witch like me.”

“I suppose you're right, but I wouldn't go around shouting about being a witch around here.”

“True.”

“I'd better help my granddaughter. Drive up tomorrow if you get a notion.”

“Might do that.”

Lewis walked to Laura, feeling better for having talked to Maggie, however briefly. She was his closest friend and though they weren't lovers, he had thought several times of asking her to move in with him, to get her out of the town. That would have amused the townspeople, the only black man in the county living with the only Japanese woman.

“How do you know a good one?” Laura asked.

“I have no idea. Why don't you take two, see if we can't stack the odds.”

She picked two and they went to the check-out.

The lines were long and there was nothing to do but stand there and browse through magazines. Lewis looked at the pages of
Ladies' Home Journal
, but he was thinking of Martin.

“Hey there, prof,
que pasa?”
the cashier said.

“Carlos.”

“Hot day. What it's like up high?”

“Not quite so hot.”

“Granddaughter?”

“Yes. Laura, this is Carlos.”

“Encantada de conocerle.”

Laura smiled.

Carlos reached under the counter and came up with a piece of candy. “All the special little people get candy.”

“Thank you.”

Lewis looked at the red-and-white mint. Martin's horse loved mints. That's what was missing up there. The horse. Where was Martin's horse? Maybe someone killed him for the horse. It seemed far-fetched, but it was something. Lewis wanted to get outside to the pay phone and call Mondragon. He drummed his fingers on the conveyor. Finally, Carlos was done and the bags loaded into the buggy.

BOOK: The Body of Martin Aguilera
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