Zero Saints (9 page)

14

Butterflies are sometimes dragonflies

Monstruos that hide in the sombras

Late night visit – Licking flesh

Tears

With my new gun tight against the small of my back I went to work. If they wanted to come for me, I was ready. I thought back to what the unblinking man had said. They were getting confident. Sloppy. Drunk on their power. I stood a few feet away from the doorway, checked IDs, and placed whatever drug people asked for in their hands with practiced disimulo.

I also ignored my phone. Surely some of the calls had to be from someone asking about Guillermo. He rarely left the house, but he was good about picking up his phone. I hoped no one had needed him too desperately. I needed time.

Once things had fallen into their mid-night rhythm, I went to the back and talked to Manny, a Mexican American mountain of blubber and attitude who sucked as a bartender but was good with the money box. Manny had a black girlfriend who worked at one of T.B.’s strip clubs. She went by Butterfly despite the fact that the huge insect tattooed between her ridiculously huge fake tits was a dragonfly. I knew Butterfly was tight with Nikki and Baby Girl, the two young ladies who ran everything while T.B. pretended he was the man of the house. If T.B. had anything to do with the men living in the tiny house behind his juke joint, these ladies would know about it, and they would tell Butterfly what was up.

As awful as Manny was to almost everyone, he had this twisted idea that, since I was the one who placed all the money in the box he got paid to protect with his life, he was supposed to keep me happy because I was above him in pay and rank. I never had time, or the desire, to explain to him he was wrong. If his confusion kept his huge ass docile and hasta un poco servicial, so be it.

It didn’t take long. Manny tapped me on the shoulder about an hour before closing. T.B. was clean. According to Manny, the “tattooed motherfuckers” had even gone to one T.B.’s clubs, harassed a few dancers, and then stabbed a bouncer with a broken bottle when he tried to kick them out.

That sucked for the dancers and the bouncer, but it was good news for me. The last thing I wanted was to go after Indio and then have the Pussy King, which is what some folks called T.B., coming after me with an army of angry black dudes armed to the teeth.

A few hours later, we pushed the last drunks out into the night and closed up. I walked to my car with the hair on the back of my neck standing up like a cat’s and drove home, convinced there was a big brown car following me.

I parked in my usual spot, near some dumpsters, and walked to my door with ears and eyes at attention. Going home felt like a mistake. I wondered if I was welcoming them, hoping they’d get me like they got me the first time. If they’d just end it. I entered my apartment and closed the door with a sigh of relief.

I got a glass of water and opened the cabinet where I kept my collection of pills. I wanted to sleep for a few hours without my brain screaming nonsense at me. Then I heard a noise. A scratch. Something was scratching at my door.

The gun was in my hand and the safety was off before my brain even had a chance to think about what the noise could be.

Then came a bark.

I walked to the door and listened before putting my eye to the peephole. Loud breathing. Shuffling. If Indio had come for me or had sent one of his monkeys, they’d be quieter about it. Just in case, I placed my finger around the trigger and held the gun in front of me. If someone with a tattooed face was standing on the other side, they’d get a bullet in the chest before they had a chance to realize the door was open.

Then I pulled the door open.

Kahlúa was sitting in front of my door. I lowered the gun. Behind her, the rest of Consuelo’s jauría walked around, their heads down and their noses to the ground. One dog was laid out and appeared to be sleeping.

I stuck my head out. Looked left and right. The dogs were alone. Then I looked down at Kahlúa again. She stood up, moved toward me.

The dog smelled the gun and then her muzzle moved up. Suddenly her rough tongue was on my new tattoo. My first instinct was to pull my hand away, but something held it there. After two licks, Kahlúa sat back down and looked up at me with her human eyes. They were full of tears. A tear rolled down her fur. Then she stood up and started trotting away without looking back. The rest of the chingos were all looking at me. Call me crazy but I swear they collectively gave me a nod before trotting off behind Kahlúa. It felt like a blessing, like a message sent by the beautiful soul I knew was now taking care of me.

15

They came looking for blood

What’s good for a saint had to be good for a little devil

Historias de la abuela

Electric worms

Knuckles on my door jolted me awake. The bad thing about pill-induced sleep is that reality has to fight its way into your life slowly. When your brain is surrounded by the soft cloth of magical chemicals, the outside world is like an unwanted interruption that gets locked out, and when it suddenly wants to break in, you end up being scared and confused.

“Hey, Nando, you in there?”

Yoli’s voice. It helped get me in motion.

I shook my head, trying hard to get rid of something that couldn’t be shaken off.

I pulled my jeans on and walked to the door.

The sun was out. It pierced my eyes and cut into my brain the second I opened the door. Yoli spoke from somewhere inside the glare.

“I came by yesterday, but you weren’t here. Some guys were hanging out around your door when I got home from school. They were weird as fuck, so I pretended like I hadn’t seen them and went into my place. I don’t know what kind of friends you keep, but these dudes looked…unsavory.”

Despite the blinding sun, her words sent a shiver down my back. The stuff in my system made the shiver leave a trace that lingered for a few seconds. They had come to tie up a loose end.

“What did they look like?”

My voice came out sounding like I had a dead cat stuck in my throat.

“They had tattoos all over. One was smiling as I came around the corner and his teeth were all framed in gold. The other one was a bit shorter…”

“Did they say anything to you?”

“No, I told you, I went into my place. I had my phone in my hand and pretended to be looking at it. I didn’t want them to talk to me. They made me uncomfortable. It’s not that they were latinos or anything. It wasn’t even the tattoos. You know I have nothing against modified people, it’s just…I don’t know.”

I knew exactly what she meant.

“No, I get what you’re saying. They’re bad dudes. If you see them again, stay away.”

My eyes had adjusted a bit to the sun and I could see Yoli now. She wore a red sleeveless shirt and no makeup. Her leche con chocolate cheeks looked like she’d been caught in a freckle storm without an umbrella.

“Listen, Nando, I know you do more than work at the door of some club. We’ve been neighbors what, three years now? You don’t get your mail. You never walk by the office. You keep the weirdest hours. It’s all good, I don’t judge you, but I need to know if you have some trouble that’s following you home. I live here alone and I don’t want men like that walking around here every day.”

“You don’t have to worry about that, Yoli. Those men won’t come back. I promise.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“I’m going to have a talk with them tonight. I’ll tell them not to come by again. Sounds good?”

“Yeah, sounds great.”

There was something sharp in her voice, something only women possess. I have no idea what that thing is, but it can destroy a man if you give it the space to do it.

“Listen, I have to make a few phone calls…”

I brought my hand up to rub some of the sleepiness out of my face. Yoli’s hand shot out and she grabbed my forearm, twisted it a bit.

“Nice! It’s San Lázaro, right? When did you get it?”

I looked at the tatuaje. Elisa had done a fantastic job. Just like the picture I’d shown her, she’d drawn San Lázaro a little bent, with each hand reaching out to a dog. Now, each hand was reaching down to two dogs. The one to his left was Kahlúa. I recognized her despite that fact that the tattoo was in black and grey. The dog to his left was new to me. It was a female. One look at its short, stubby legs and I knew who it was.

“Yeah,” I said, which was pretty stupid but also a lot better than nothing.

“My abuelita used to have a statue of him in her little apartment in the Bronx. She prayed to him every night. I remember being young and coming home from the park with scraped knees and having her sit me down on the sofa and letting her dog come over and lick my wounds. She always said something that was good for a saint had to be good for a little devil.”

Her smile had all the power of the sun but didn’t blind me. Instead, I wanted to look at it forever, to stay there and just look at her glorious face until everything around us turned to dust except our bodies.

“Sounds like your abuelita was a smart woman.”

Yoli let go of my arm. Whatever sharpness had been there before now long gone from both her eyes and her tone.

“She was. I try to make her proud every day.”

“I’m sure she is.”

“Anyway, I’ll let you make those phone calls. And thanks for taking to those guys about not dropping by any more. They were…spooky. I know I sound goofy saying that, but they really were.”

She had no idea how spooky they were, and I wasn’t about to tell her.

“No problem, Yoli.”

She said bye, turned around, and went back to her place. I closed the door and stood there, feeling like small electric worms were crawling under my skin. I looked down at the tatuaje again. It was only ink underneath my skin, but those two new dogs made me feel like I wasn’t alone any longer.

16

Broken novena

Propietaria y Reina de las Tinieblas del Mas Allá

Rum – Leftover Pizza – Apples

Talking to Changó

You’re supposed to pray your novena for nine consecutive days or it won’t work, but sometime you have to do something important before the nine days are over, so you put a little something extra in front of la Santísima Muerte and promise that you will light every candle you owe her.

At least that was my plan.

I grabbed the papers Consuelo had given me, lit up another candle, and read.

Novena a la Santa Muerte

Día 3

 Yo te imploro con todo el fervor de mi corazón que, así como Dios te hizo inmortal por ser la Muerte Poderosa, la eterna Propietaria y Reina de las Tinieblas del Mas Allá, que con este gran poder que tienes sobre todos y cada uno de los mortales, hagas que mis enemigos no puedan comer en ninguna mesa, que no puedan sentarse en silla alguna, que no tengan tranquilidad, que no logran conciliar el sueño, y que no se cumplan ninguno de sus nefastos deseos. Santa Muerte, mi adorada Niña Blanca, te pido que obligues a mis enemigos a verse derrotados ante ti, a volverse que humildes y rendidos para que lleguen hasta mis pies y pueda yo ser el brazo de tu eternal y divina justicia. Te ruego, Santa Muerte de mi corazón, que me concedas el favor que te pido en esta novena y que no es otro que me permitas, con tu fuerza y bendita protección, vencer a Indio y los suyos, mi enemigos mortals y alimañas que han dañado a gente buena. Que así sea.

After praying, I lit an extra candle for San Lázaro and another one for Changó. Covering all my bases seemed like a good idea. I didn’t have any apples, so I went to the fridge and pulled out the bit of milk I had left, some cheese, and leftover pizza from a few days ago. Then I opened the cabinet under the sink and pulled out my best bottle of rum, the one I used for Santa Muerte, and poured some in a glass.

I placed everything in front of my two statues and told Changó I would get him two bags of apples if he helped me out.

17

El Príncipe

Hold your horses

Hurry up and wait

Pinches asesinos

What I’d told Yoli wasn’t a lie. I needed to make a very important phone call. I was going to call El Príncipe.

We talked to each other briefly every time he visited Austin with Raúl. He always asked me about the latest narcocorridos and talked about the latest guys he’d killed. The first time, he gave me his cell phone number and told me to call him if I ever needed anything. “Papi, esto yo lo hago porque gusta, viste, no por porque me haga falta,” he had said with a wink.

I hated El Príncipe’s approach. Too messy. Demasiado arriesgado. Now, however, he was my only option.

He picked up on the second ring.

“Dímelo.”

“Príncipe, es Nando, el que trabaja con Guillermo.”

“Nando, ¿qué está pasando, mi pana?”

“Es cuento largo pero la versión corta es que mataron a Guillermo y a Consuelo. Los pinches cabrones que lo hicieron van a venir a por mi si no los pillo yo a ellos primero.”

“Wait, wait, wait, párame los caballitos un momento, papi, hold your horses. ¿Mataron a Guillermo? ¿Quién carajo? ¿Raúl lo sabe?”

“No sé si lo sabe, pero quiero resolver esto hoy, ahora. Es mi problema. No le digas nada a Raúl rodavía. Me siento responsable. Si bajas de Dallas y me hechas una mano, te pago cuatro mil dólares que es lo que tengo.”

“Papi, yo no quiero tu dinero. Tu sabes que yo jalo gatillo por gusto, cabrón. Además, cuando Raúl se entere, seguro me va a pedir que haga lo mismo que tu estás pensando hacer. Si te sientes culpable es por algo. Yo te ayudo a resolverlo. Dame tu dirección. Maybe I even get some brownie points with the boss for taking care of shit before I’m told to, you know?”

I gave him my address. He said he’d be knocking on my door in less than three hours. He was far from being my favorite person in the world, but knowing that I’d have someone with me who didn’t give a fuck about killing those pinches asesinos and was willing to pull the trigger for me for free suddenly made me feel a bit better. I even started thinking that this was something I could pull off. As a bonus, I now knew Raúl wouldn’t think for a second I had anything to do with his brother’s death. He’d think I was just an angry young man who had decided to dish out justice. He might even like that. Si, eso le iba a gustar bastante. I had one less problem to worry about.