The Painted Boy (39 page)

“Yeah, me too.”

“Did you tell Rosalie why she joined the Kings?” she asked.

“No. I made Maria a promise and I’m going to keep it.”

“Do you still have to keep a promise when the person you made it to is dead?”

“I think so. And really, what good would it do if I did tell Rosalie? All it would do is really upset her.”

“She might surprise you,” Lupita said. “That girl’s like the old bones of stone holding up the mountains. I think she deserves to know the sacrifice her friend made. If she never does, how can she properly mourn her?”

“I don’t know. I promised Maria. . . .”

“Then promise me you’ll at least think of it.”

“Okay.”

“Good.” She clapped her hands. “So do you want to go tease the javelina boys?”

He smiled and shook his head. “Not tonight. I have to get up early tomorrow.”

“Oh, pooh. You’re no fun.”

“What can I say?”

“You could say yes. You could sing ‘Ai-yi-yi!’ with me and then suggest we go dance with the aunts and uncles and twirl under the stars.”

She gave him a hopeful look.

He shook his head.

“Well, you could at least walk me home,” she said.

“That I can do.”

 

 

Anna picked Rosalie and Jay up on Jay’s first day at school. The girls sat in the front of the Valiant while he lounged across the backseat. He listened to them chatter for a couple of blocks, then sat up.

“I’ve got an idea,” he said.

“You’re not wearing your seat belt,” Anna said.

“You’re changing the subject.”

“We don’t have a subject yet except for you not wearing your seat belt. I don’t want to get a ticket.”

“Okay, I’ll put on my seat belt,” Jay told her.

“What’s your idea?” Rosalie asked.

“We should have a big street party—a real fiesta,” Jay said. “It’ll be to celebrate the
bandas
being gone and we’ll invite anybody who ever had to deal with their crap.”

“That’ll be everybody in the barrio,” Anna said.

“Kind of my point.”

Anna nodded, keeping her gaze on the street ahead. “That could be fun.”

“And Malo Malo should totally be the headline band,” Jay said.

“We’re not playing anymore,” Anna said. “Ramon says the band is done.”

“Because of Margarita.”

She nodded.

“But maybe this’d be the perfect opportunity for him to see how wrong he is in this,” Rosalie said. “You guys sounded great with Chaco sitting in. It wasn’t the same, but it was pretty amazing. Imagine how good it would sound if the rest of you actually had the chance to practice with him before a gig.”

Anna nodded. “I really miss playing.”

“So it’s decided,” Jay said. “When should it be?”

“You have to convince Ramon first,” Anna said.

“No problem.” Jay sat back. “Putting on my seat belt now.”

Anna laughed. “Yeah, just as we’re pulling into the school parking lot.”

 

 

Everybody knew who he was. No one came up to Jay, but from collecting his schedule at the office to walking to his first class, whispers followed in his wake. It was so different from his old school, where he’d worked so hard to disappear into the woodwork. He wasn’t sure he liked being the center of all this attention.

He had worried about having to vanish from class if some problem came up, but the morning passed without incident. No ’banger tried to sneak into the barrios to sell dope, jack a car, or throw up a few signs on newly cleaned walls. But at lunchtime the medicine wheel drew him to a few kids standing under a big old mesquite tree on the far side of the school yard. He looked around. He was waiting for Anna and Rosalie, but they hadn’t come back from putting books in their lockers yet. No one was watching him.

He stepped into
el entre
, stepping out again right beside the kids.

“Jesus!” one said.

“No, my name’s Jay.”

The biggest of them stepped up. “What’s your problem, man? You looking for trouble?”

“You’re my problem. You’re talking about starting up a gang and I’m here to tell you that if you keep it up, I’ll be sending you out of the barrio. One-way trip, no return.”

The kid laughed. “You don’t look like much. You’re the big deal supposed to be keeping us all safe? How’re you going to keep us safe if you kick us out?”

“You misunderstand my job,” Jay told him. “I’m only here to look after the people who live in the barrio—who want to be here. I couldn’t care less what happens to you if I have to kick you out.”

The kid shook his head. “You don’t look so tough.”

“I’m not,” Jay told him. “Not really.”

He held out his hand and woke a ball of dragonfire.

“You ever see how fast one of these things can burn up a person?” he asked.

The kids started to back away, all except for the biggest one.

“You don’t scare me,” he said, though his eyes said different.

“I’m not really trying to. I’m just explaining the rules that allow you the privilege of staying here.”

“Man, the sooner I get out of this shithole the better.”

“That’s fine. But still no gangs.”

“Screw you.”

Jay nodded. “What’s your name?”

“José Vargas.”

“Are you related to Malo Malo’s drummer?”

“She was a cousin. Why? What’s it to you?”

“She’d be disappointed in you.”

“Jesus, like I care.”

“You should. Say good-bye to the barrio, José.”

He grabbed the boy’s arm and shifted them into
el entre
. When he let José go, the boy took a swing at him, but Jay dodged it with little effort. José took another swing and Jay asked the wind to push the kid away. José spun comically, arms windmilling to keep his balance.

“Enjoy your new home,” Jay said. “Let me know if you change your mind.”

Then he stepped out of
el entre
, just in time to meet the girls for lunch.

“Sorry,” Anna said. “We got sidetracked in the bath-room.”

Jay held up a hand. “Don’t need to know more.”

“So what’ve you been up to?” she asked. “You’ve got a bit of a glow happening there.”

“Nothing. Just making new friends.”

 

 

After school Jay went back to
el entre
to look in on José, but the kid started throwing rocks at him, so Jay left him there.

 

 

Rosalie had already told Ramon that she couldn’t see him because she had too much homework. So did Jay, but he wanted to talk to Ramon before he started, and since Ramon wouldn’t be coming by, Jay went to him. The medicine wheel led him to Ramon’s backyard, where Ramon slouched in a lawn chair, his gaze on the night sky. He turned his head when he heard Jay’s footsteps.

“Hey, dragon boy,” he said.

“I’d say ‘Hey, music boy’ back,” Jay said, “but you’re not playing anymore, so . . .”

Ramon nodded then returned to watching the sky. Jay pulled over a plastic milk crate, turned it over, and sat down.

“Yeah,” Ramon said. “It pretty much sucks. I haven’t picked up an instrument since we finished that gig in front of the pool hall.” He fell silent for a moment, then added, “No, that’s not exactly true. It’s just when I do pick up an instrument, there’s nothing there anymore. No spark, no joy.”

“Joy,” Jay repeated.

“Okay, I know. I was totally the political animal and I wasn’t exactly writing happy songs, but there was still a joy in what I was doing.”

“Well, sure. If it had all been downer tunes you’d only have had a bunch of goths coming to your gigs.”

“You’re being hard on goths. They’re not into depression. They’re just not afraid of looking into the darkness.”

“You know what I mean.”

“Yeah. But the problem is, when I play now, it all sounds flat. I think I’m done. Maybe I’ll start hanging out with the uncles, drinking mescal tea.”

“Come on, man,” Jay said. “The people need Malo Malo. You don’t see me turning my back on my job, do you?”

“Actually, I think your job makes my job unnecessary.”

“Good music’s always necessary. I haven’t solved all the problems down here. All I did was get rid of the gangs. The kids still need you to be their conscience. How else are they going to learn to develop their own? And you’re their voice, man. You’re the one who tells their stories.”

Ramon shook his head. “With Margarita gone, it’s not the same.”

“Of course it isn’t. But do you really think she’d want you guys to give up your music? Do you think that’s the legacy she’d want to have?”

When Ramon didn’t respond, Jay decided to take another tack.

“Remember that hike we went on?” he asked.

Ramon nodded.

“You told me then that it was important for us to follow our dreams. You said I should go for what I believed in because at least I would have tried.”

“That sounds like something I would have said.”

“You’re not trying anymore.”

“I told you. When I pick up an instrument—”

“That’s when you’re sitting back here,” Jay broke in, “or in your room, right? On your own.”

“Your point being?”

“You didn’t try with the band.”

“They feel the same way.”

“Anna doesn’t. I haven’t talked to the others about it, but I know she doesn’t.”

“What are you saying?”

“You know what I’m saying,” Jay said. “You need to get together with the others again. Find another drummer, or just work with Hector’s beats.”

“And if it doesn’t happen?”

“At least you gave it a shot.”

“I don’t know. . . .”

“Okay,” Jay said. “I’ve got one last card to play. Do you think Rosalie deserves to be with someone who doesn’t have the courage to get off his ass and try?”

Ramon sat up. The light was dim, but Jay could feel the flash of anger.

“That’s low, man,” he said.

His voice was mild, but the fire stayed in his eyes. His hands gripped the arms of the lawn chair.

“Maybe,” Jay said. “Probably. But I’m sticking with the question.”

“What? You want me to break up with Rosalie?”

“God, no. I want you to play music again.”

Then he told Ramon about the idea he had. Ramon didn’t say anything for a long time. He stared across the yard. He looked past the old GMC truck his brother was rebuilding, past the cacti and creosote bushes, through the chain-link fence to the alley beyond. Jay didn’t think he was actually seeing anything.

“And everybody else is on board with this?” Ramon finally asked.

“Don’t you think that’s something you should be asking them?”

Ramon turned to look at him.

“Man, this dragon business sits well on you. The kid I met back when wasn’t half so decisive and sure of himself. There’s steel in your backbone now, and no give.”

Jay shook his head. “I would never try to make anybody do anything—except if they tried to bring the gangs back. That’s nonnegotiable.”

Ramon nodded. “You really think Rosalie’s disappointed in me?”

“Are you kidding me? She adores you. What I was asking was if she deserved to be with someone—”

“Who doesn’t have the courage to follow his dreams. Okay. I get it.” He sighed. “You win. I’ll give it a try. I can’t promise anything. I don’t even know if anyone besides Anna still wants to. But I’ll try.”

 

 

Jay checked in on José before he returned to his room at Tío’s. The threads of the medicine wheel could have taken him right to where the boy was, but he chose to step into
el entre
some distance from where José sat on a rock, his arms wrapped around himself. He watched the boy for a while, then approached on silent feet until he was right behind him. He reached over José’s head and dropped a bottle of water in the boy’s lap.

“What the—”

José turned around, but Jay was already gone.

 

 

A few nights before the big free concert and fiesta that Malo Malo was headlining, Rosalie and Jay were sitting out in front of Rosalie’s trailer. The sky was huge tonight—no clouds and the stars went on forever, even with the light pollution from the city. Occasionally, coyotes would start up their song somewhere in the desert and all the dogs would lift their heads for a moment before settling down again. The day’s heat had died and a cool breeze was blowing in from the desert, carrying the scent of creosote.

“I think the concert should be a memorial for Maria as well as Margarita,” Jay said.

Rosalie turned to look at him. “That can’t happen. I know she killed El Tigre, but so far as most people are concerned she was still one of the Presidio Queens. Most people just think it was because of a falling out among the Kings.”

“They’d be wrong.”

“I know. I mean, probably. Oh, I don’t know.”

She sat back in her chair and stroked Oswaldo’s head where the big mastiff was resting it on her lap. If he could have had his way he would have crawled right up on her the way Pepito was sprawled across Jay’s knees, snoring softly.

“I made a promise not to tell you something,” Jay said after a while, “but Lupita thinks it doesn’t hold anymore because Maria’s dead now.”

He heard Rosalie’s intake of breath.

“What do you think?” Jay asked. “Does it still hold?”

“Is this about why she became a Queen?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh, my God. It has something to do with me?”

Jay sighed. He should have known. Once you started something like this, you had to take it to the end.

“Yeah,” he said. “They were going to jump you. They wanted to get back at Tío because of the way he always speaks out against the gangs.”

“I would
never
join a gang.”