GRINGA (38 page)

             
Then I see him,
standing at a window of a villa high on the ranch
, l
ooking
down
at me. I smile and raise my apple at him. He smiles back. Then I pretend to throw the apple at him. His smile waivers
for a moment
and I laugh. He shakes his head at me. Senor Vito appears behind him and I quickly lower the apple. Diablo
nods and
reluctantly moves away from the window. 

             
So the lessons continue, then.

      
             
Later in the day, Maria and Rosa tell me about the conversation they overheard last night.
             
‘
Christa and Santana
they not happy, Senorita,’ Maria says. ‘Christa say, Diablo, he is
becoming
too soft. She say he dress like a Gringo and he forget who he is.’

             
‘Si,’ Rosa says. ‘Christa say the other gangs, they see Diablo dress like a Gringo and they think Diablo is not strong anymore and they come take our land away. The men, they get frightened and they say maybe they talk to Diablo – tell him to stop.’

             
‘Really!’

             
Well, Christa sure knows how to incite uproar among Diablo’s men – I mean
Diago’s
men.

             
His name is really Diago. Diago. I like the name Diago. So much better than …

             
‘You be careful of Christa,’
Rosa
warns.

             
‘Huh? Okay.’

             
I see Dia
bl
o at dinner
l
ooking casual and handsome.
Okay, very handsome.

             
We smile and s
neak glances at
each other
throughout dinner. I’m barely eating and I notice he’s barely touching his food.

             
But,
he stays away from me at night. Confusing. 

The next evening, I see the men moving the large dining table out of our villa.

             
‘Hey Maria. W
assup?
Our furniture being repossessed or something?’

             
‘We don’t serve dinner here no more
,’ she
replies
.

             
‘
You don’t serve - w
hy?’

    
             
She shrugs. ‘That’
s what Diablo wants.’ 

    
             
‘Oh
.
’ A
tiny
thrill shoots through me. I didn’t like them
drinking and doing drugs
where I sleep
. It was one of my gripes at the rock pool. 

    
             
‘Is all about you, Senorita,’
Rosa
says, winking at me. ‘Diablo, he want to make you veeery happy.’

    
             
I smile inwardly at her words

As soon as
Senor Vito leaves the ranch I seek out Diablo. I knock on his door and wait. Santana opens the door and bristles with hostility. ‘Aaaan? What do you want now,
puta
?’ 

    
             
‘Hey Santana,’ I say, ignoring her
foul mood.
After I learned how hard her life is under Christa, she too has my sympathy.

    
             
A
shirtless Diablo appears behind her.

             
‘Oh
… hi…
’ I
murmur
.
‘Um ... I’ll maybe come back later, cos it’s not import ... ’

    
             
‘No
,
stay
!’
H
e
looks pointedly at
Santana.

             
‘Biiitch!’ Santana
mutters
a
s she
storms out.

    
             
I look at Diablo in the natural light and see the scars on his forehead, the red eyes, and since he’s shirtless
–
the tattoos on his chest
and an urge to hug him overcomes me. Right there, I vow never to call him Diablo again
- n
ever to refer to him as a devil, a beast, a monster.
He’s Diago, brother to
Troy
.

             
I study the tattoos as if I’m admiring them, but I actually want to see the
scars from the
cigarette burn
s
. Despite my distress, I manage a small smile. ‘How are you Diago?’ I ask, emphasising his name
, a tacit reminder o
f our lovely date.

             
He shrugs, never one for words. But his lit up face tells me he’s happy to see me. 

             
I point at one shoulder. ‘I’ll take that shrug as a,
“
Very well, thank you and how are you?
”
’

             
He grins and scratches the back of his neck. 

    
             
‘Look Diago,’ I say, getting serious, ‘it’s my nephews Christening - eh, Naming Ceremony and I wanna attend. Please? I adore Liam and since he’s my only nephew, I’m excited about the Christening. ’Sides, it gives me something to do, cos I get really bored here.’

             
His smile
suddenly
vanishes. 

             
‘What? It’s just for the baby, not Austin, really.’

             
After taking a deep breath, he
shrugs
and then nods slowly.

             
I exhale.
‘Thank you
.
And Marcus ...?’ 

             
He nods
. ‘Marucs, he take you, he stay with you, he brung you back.’

             
‘
Bring
,’ I correct, barely able to contain my excitement.
‘
Um …y
ou’re not going to change your mind like the last time, are you?’
M
y voice
is
pleading.

   
             
He shakes his head slowly.

   
             
‘Great! It’ll save you heaps of abuse from me.
’

             
He smiles.

             
‘
Now ... I need pesos
. L
ots of it.’ I was kidding about the “lots of it” part.

     
             
He reaches into his closet, draws out a shoe box and hands it to me.

    
             
‘T
…
hanks,’ I say, opening the box. ‘I suppose I can sell these shoes on Ebay and use the mo ... Ohmigod!’ The shoe box is filled with banknotes. My eyes fly to his. ‘This much?’

    
             
More shrugging as he shuts the closet, a
smug
look on his face.  

    
             
‘Wow!
I wasn’t ... I ... wow! Thank you, Diago.’

             
I think he’s showing of, but
hey,
I don’t mind. ‘This will like, come in handy,’ I say, clutching the box to my chest.

    
             
He scratches the back of his head, his chin and finally jerks his neck from side-to-
side,
his signature response to shyness.

             
We
stare
at each other for a few moments and smile, memories of our dinner date flooding our mind.

  
             
‘
Well,
I’ll
eh,
say goodnight then and
like,
leave you to ...’ I jerk my head in Santana’s direction.

             
He grunts again and I
exit
clutching
my box of money.

    
             
Paris and I are not the best of friends, but I
really adore Liam and since I have tons of money, m
y plans for the christening
now
include a tiered Christening cake, a tiny white satin suit for baby, a new dress for Paris and of course, a new dress for me. I plan to take them sho
pping today and splurge on them. And me
- all courtesy of Diago. 

             
Almost skipping up to
Paris
’s door, I breeze in and kiss my nephew.

  
             
‘Wow Payton,’ my dad says, giving me a one arm hug, ‘you look great!’

             
‘Yes
…you look different
,’ Elaine remarks, her voice accusing. ‘What’s got into you?’

             
‘
A
little chunky,’
Paris
says, her eyes sweeping over me. ‘Wh
y you all glammed up? Spit it out
.’