Tequila Sunset (22 page)

At first he thought he’d see Emilio or one of the others – Nasario, maybe – waiting outside the fence ready to tail the truck, but there was no one around. Flip stopped at Alfredo’s pick-up and leaned against the dented side, staring at his feet. It was coming.

Alfredo came along after a little while, carrying his black plastic lunch pail. He put it in the bed of the truck. “Ready?” he asked.

“Sure.”

Flip waited until they were on the road before he asked. He wanted it to seem natural, but he did not like the sound of his own voice. Clearing his throat helped. “Hey, Alfredo, why don’t we stop somewhere on the way back? Get a couple of beers.”

“Beers? I thought guys on parole couldn’t go to bars.”

Flip tried a smile. Alfredo wasn’t even looking. “What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him. Besides, I’m not talking about getting loaded. Just a couple of beers before you drop me off.”

Alfredo looked straight ahead and for a moment Flip was afraid he would say no and the whole thing would go straight into the garbage. Finally he shrugged and said, “Sure, why not?
Where do you want to stop?”

“There’s a place on Stanton. Rafa’s Bar. I saw it the other day when I was with Graciela. Seems like an okay spot.”

“I don’t know it. But I’ll find it.”

They drove and Flip found himself clutching the vinyl armrest. He felt like he was sweating all over. His teeth ground and he forced them apart. Street passed street, and every mile they went he felt his tension surge.

Eventually Alfredo turned on Stanton and they found the bar: a little brick-faced place just a few doors down from El Pasito Restaurante. Alfredo parked by the curb. In one window red neon letters advertised BEER and WINE. In the other, RAFA’S BAR. Both windows were heavily barred.

Inside it was dark and Flip saw nothing but black until his eyes adjusted. The place was not large, with a scattering of tables, a few booths and a short bar. Taps for Corona and Dos Equis stood up beside Budweiser and Bud Light. There were at least six different types of tequila behind the bar.

Flip did not see José at first, tucked into one of the booths alone with a half-finished beer in front of him, but he heard him call his name. “Over here, Flip! Hey, come and sit down.”

Flip went to José but Alfredo did not follow right away. Suddenly Flip was afraid Alfredo would rather sit at the bar and how that might change things. He touched Alfredo on the arm. “Come on,” he said. “He’s one of my friends.”

Alfredo went into the booth first and Flip second, so that he was bracketed between them. José was dressed in a denim shirt and had a gold chain with a crucifix dangling from the open collar. He looked like a workingman and Flip wondered if that was somehow his way of putting Alfredo at ease. Alfredo did not look at ease.

“I’m José,” José introduced himself. He stuck out his hand for Alfredo to shake. They did.

“Alfredo.”

“Oh, so
you’re
Alfredo. Flip’s told me all about you. You’re Flip’s boss, right?”

“That’s right.”

“Let me buy you something to drink. How about Corona? You like Corona?”

“Corona’s fine,” Alfredo said.

José hollered the order and then relaxed into his seat. Flip was uncomfortable, but he did not know if it was because of the cheap cushions or because he did not want to be there. Alfredo was still.

“How is Flip working out?” José asked Alfredo. “Doing good work?”

“Yes. He works hard.”

“I’ll bet. Flip is solid. That’s why I want him doing things for me.”

Alfredo looked sharply at José then, as if taking his measure for the first time. “Are you a carpenter?”

“Me? No. I’m a businessman.”

“Then how is Flip supposed to work for you?”

“I have things that need doing, Flip can do them.”

Alfredo glanced back at Flip. “What kinds of things?”

“Like I said: things that need doing.”

Alfredo put his hand down flat on the table and turned on José. “You’re some kind of hoodlum, aren’t you? You think just because Flip was in prison that he’s going to take up with your type?”

“Haven’t you heard? Flip’s already part of the family.”

“Flip? What’s he talking about?”

A waiter brought Alfredo his beer, but it went ignored. José put a bill on the table and the waiter swept it up. Flip wished for a beer just so he could have something in his hands, something he could look at. He did not want to meet Alfredo’s glare.

“José… he’s tight with some people I knew back in Coffield,” Flip said.

“‘Some people’? Gang members!”

“Hey, man, relax,” José said.

“Don’t you tell me to relax! I’ve spent my life staying away from people like you. And now you’re trying to pull in Flip.”

“Actually I wanted to talk about how you could make some extra money.”

“Screw your extra money. Flip, move over. We’re getting out of here.”

Flip let Alfredo push him from the booth. He looked to José and held up his hands in surrender. What else could he do? He couldn’t hold Alfredo down. José just shook his head.

“You’re making a mistake, man,” José called after Alfredo. “It’s good money.”

“
Vete a la chingada
,” Alfredo said and he caught Flip by the arm. “Let’s go.”

Flip allowed himself to be led out through the front door into dazzling sunlight that left him blind. By the time they reached the truck again he could see Alfredo climbing behind the wheel, slamming the door, but he didn’t get in.

“In the truck, Flip!”

He looked back toward the bar, but José did not emerge.

“Get in the truck!”

Flip took the passenger seat, still watching to see if José would pursue them. Alfredo put the truck in gear and wrenched the wheel so that they pulled an illegal u-turn in the middle of the street. Then he stomped the accelerator.

“What a bunch of bullshit,” Alfredo said. “I thought we were going to get a drink and be friendly, but you had one of your gangster friends waiting for us! ‘Make some extra money.’ Who the hell does he think he is?”

“I’m sorry,” Flip said.

“Your mother told me you were a
good boy
, Flip! That all that mess you got into wasn’t your fault. Now you’re out, you have a chance to do things right, and who do you fall in with? More criminals!”

“It’s not like that.”

“How is it, then? Explain to me how you just happened to run across a
matón
like that. It doesn’t happen by accident. You have to want to walk on the right side of the law.”

Flip still couldn’t look at Alfredo. He stared out the window instead. “Inside the gang did me favors. I owe them.”

“They’re in
prison
, Flip. You’re in the real world. Everybody has choices.”

“So what am I supposed to do?”

“Do what I do,” Alfredo said, “and tell them to fuck off.”

“It’s not so easy.”

“Have you tried it?”

Flip had nothing to say to that. They were close to home now and Alfredo was driving too fast. Anger came off the man like heat. He gripped the steering wheel so hard that his knuckles were white.

Alfredo brought him to the front of his mother’s house and pulled over. Flip felt Alfredo’s eyes drilling into the side of his head. “I’m not going to tell your mother about this, Flip, but I want you to know that things are going to be different between us. You betrayed my trust. It’s going to take some work to earn it back.”

“So you’re not going to fire me, either?”

“No. You can stay on.”

“Thanks,” Flip said and he risked a look in Alfredo’s direction. Alfredo’s face was stone.

“Just tell me you’re going to fly right from now on. If you won’t do it for yourself, you can at least do it for your mother.”

“I’ll do what I can.”

“That better be good enough.”

He left Flip on the curb and drove away fast. Flip came up the walk slowly and opened the front door as quietly as he could, but his mother still heard him. She came from the kitchen, chased by the smell of spicy meat. “Felipe, you’re late!”

“Only a few minutes, Mamá.”

“When you’re late, I wonder if there’s been an accident.”

“No accident. Alfredo and me, we just stopped for a drink.”

“It’s good that you two are getting along. We’re having early dinner tonight, so no running off.”

Flip went to his room. The shakes were coming more often and now he had them again. He barely got the door closed before he began trembling all over and he sat down hard on the bed.

His phone vibrated in his pocket. He answered. “Hello?”

“Hey, it’s me.”

Graciela. All at once the shivering stopped. Flip held the phone tightly, the way he’d hold her tightly. “Hi,” he said. “I’m glad you called.”

“I was just finishing up. I wanted to know if you wanted to do something.”

“I don’t know. My mother has dinner on the stove and she wants me to eat with her.”

“I understand. Maybe tomorrow?”

“Maybe. I really want to see you.”

“How badly do you want to see me?” Graciela asked and he heard her teasing him.

“You know.”

“Are you all right, Flip? You sound a little funny.”

Flip kicked his shoes off and lay back on the bed. His back was hurting, he realized, though he hadn’t felt it before. Whether it was from work or worry, he didn’t know. “It’s… I just… I had some trouble with my boss today.”

“Oh, no.”

He weighed how much to tell her, though he wanted to share everything. Nothing would give him more relief, he knew it. Then he said, “He found out about José and me. He wasn’t too happy about it.”

“Is he going to fire you? Because that would be bad for your parole.”

“No, he’s not going to fire me. He just doesn’t understand it’s for life, you know? I made a promise on my blood to stick with the family and now it’s all messed up. I got to do for José, but…”

Graciela was quiet. Then she said, “You got to do what’s right, too, Flip.”

“That’s what he said.”

“I know about Aztecas,” Graciela said. “I been around them all my life. My brother was an Azteca before he got killed in that car crash. I’m an Azteca girl. But I don’t let them run my life. I got my own thing.”

Flip felt the plastic case of the phone creak in his grip. He relaxed his hand. “I want to have my own thing, too.”

“You can. You just got to be strong, Flip. Do what you got to do for José, but don’t let them take you over,” Graciela said. “I wouldn’t like you so much if you did.”

“I wish I could see you now.”

“You’ll see me soon.”

“Not soon enough,” Flip said, and from the other room he heard his mother calling him to dinner.

FIVE

A
LFREDO DID NOT TALK TO
F
LIP WHEN THEY
went to work the next day. They rode together to the warehouse and went their separate ways, not even meeting at lunchtime which had become their habit. Flip ate by himself, resisting being drawn in by the conversations of his co-workers. He put in his hours and when it was time to go home he was glad.

“I’m taking your mother out tonight,” Alfredo said when they were almost there. “Just so you know.”

“Where are you going?”

“To a nice restaurant,” Alfredo replied, and that was all he offered for the rest of the ride.

Flip found his mother already dressed for the evening in black with heels. It was the first time he had seen her this way, reaching all the way back into his childhood. She even wore makeup.

“I put a plate in the refrigerator for you,” his mother told him. “All you have to do is heat it up.”

“What time will you be back?”

“I don’t know. Alfredo said he wants to take me dancing, so it will be late. Don’t wait up for me.”

“I won’t, Mamá.”

“Good boy.”

An hour later Alfredo was back to pick up Flip’s mother. He had changed into a nice shirt and pants and his hair was slicked back. A bouquet of flowers was her gift. Flip watched his mother kiss
Alfredo and he felt strangely distant from all of it. Alfredo took her away without saying anything to Flip.

At first he tried watching television, but he couldn’t stop switching channels. He called Graciela and left a message for her. What was she doing? Maybe it was better if he didn’t know.

The sun was down before he went to the kitchen and brought out his plate. Chicken and rice with beans on the side. He nuked them and ate alone at the kitchen table. The idea of going to bed early and trying to sleep the rest the evening away occurred to him, but he resisted, still hoping that Graciela would call.

It was another hour before his phone rang. He saw Graciela’s number on the display. “Graciela,” he answered. “I’m glad you called.”

“Are you all right? I didn’t like your message.”

“My mother and Alfredo went out. I’m by myself. Do you want to come over?”

“Sure. Wait for me.”

Flip put on the front light and went to the bedroom to change shirts. If he had time he would have showered, but it was too late now. He watched out the front window for Graciela’s car. When she arrived he opened the front door for her and resisted rushing out to meet her.

She took his hands and smiled and kissed him. It was good to kiss her again, as though a long time had passed and her kiss was something he needed to live. “Hi,” she said.

“Hi.”

“Let me in.”

“Okay.”

Graciela came in and looked around the front room as if she had never seen it before. Flip thought it felt strange to have her here without his mother somewhere in the house, but he was too glad to see her to worry about that for long.

“I could come to see you sometime,” Flip said. “I’ve never seen
your apartment. What’s it like?”

“Small. I’d rather have a little house like this one, but it’s too expensive for one person to rent.”

“And you have to cut the grass,” Flip said.

“That’s what I have you for!”

He came to her in the middle of the room and kissed her again. When they broke their faces stayed close together and they breathed each other’s breath. “Do you want to see the rest of the house?” Flip asked.