Thirteen Senses (44 page)

“Get out of here, Sal!” said Archie. “This is an Anglo, you dumb son-of-a-bitch! A
gringo
! Good thing I saw how he attacked you first, so you had to hit him in self-defense!”

Salvador was shaking, he was so worked up. Oh, he'd gone crazy-
loco
when he'd seen that big man sticking his head inside of their Moon, flirting with Lupe. All those years of wanting to protect his mother and sisters came bursting up inside of him!

“Get the hell out of here!” said Archie again. “I think you really hurt him!”

“Come on, Salvador!” said Lupe.

Finally, Salvador got into the Moon and they were off.

“There was no need to hit that man, Salvador,” said Lupe once they were out of the
barrio.
“He was just drunk. He didn't mean anything. Besides, it's probably your liquor that got him drunk.”

“LUPE!” screamed Salvador. “Don't talk to me like this! Ever since we saw that priest, you've been mouthing off at me!”

“And why not? You lied to me, Salvador! You lied to me about everything!”

“Stop it, Lupe! Stop it! I warn you!” he added.

“You warn me?” she said. “You warn me that you'll do what! That you will hit me, too! That you will grab me by the neck like you grabbed Epitacio that morning? Oh, no, Salvador, I'm your wife, and like it or not, I will speak!”

Screaming, Salvador slammed on the brakes and leaped out of the Moon! He didn't know what to do. He wanted to kill! He wanted to kill Lupe!

He continued screaming and bellowing like an enraged bull. Then suddenly he turned on the tree next to him—a great big, tall, beautiful eucalyptus—and he began kicking the tree as hard as he could, then pounding it with his thick, heavy, iron-driving fists.

“I saw my sisters raped and killed by soldiers in front of my eyes!” he bellowed. “And I was too little to do anything, Lupe! I was too little! And I was going to kill that son-of-a-bitch, if Archie hadn't pulled me off!

“He was a drunk Anglo, Lupe! A drunk Anglo! And what do you think drunk Anglos have been doing to our women for all these years! DON'T PLAY the FOOL WITH ME, LUPE! I LOVE YOU! You're
mi esposa
! And you will be respected, Lupe, do you hear me, I'll kill this ENTIRE NATION!”

He gouged at the tree with his nails, tearing off bark, biting at the bark, and kicking the tree again and again . . . until he finally hurt his right foot and could kick no more, and he started crying. He fell down, hugging the base of the Great Tree, weeping like a child.

The drums were beating!

The One Collective Heart
-Corazón
of Humanity was beat, Beat, BEATING!

“They raped my sisters,” added Salvador quietly, “right in front of me and my mother, wanting to torture us, too, and I was too little to do anything. Too little, Lupe, too little.” He swallowed. “My sister Emilia finally went blind with shame, Lupe. War is no good. No good, ever. The women and children always . . . lose, both sides.”

The tears were running down Lupe's face as she sat in the Moon, watching Salvador hugging the base of the huge eucalyptus as he, too, cried in agony.

Lupe knew exactly what Salvador was talking about. It had been the same thing in her box canyon. It had never mattered who won, Villistas or Carrancistas, in the end they,
la gente,
always lost. War was, indeed, no good. Ever! Only men—far from their homes—could think war was great and adventurous!

A delicious, gentle breeze came up and Lupe glanced up and saw the leaves of the Great Tree Dancing in the sunlight, turning into a Sea of tiny Angels.

She breathed and breathed again, then opened her door and got out of the Moon to go to Salvador. The Angels were humming. Lupe could feel their humming in her Heart-
Gorazón
!

“I'm sorry,” she said, squatting down on the ground beside him. “I'm sorry, Salvador, I didn't understand.”

She brushed the hair out of his eyes and they looked at each other in the sunlight coming down to them through the branches of the Great Tree, and they now saw each other all new and with so much . . . Love and Warmth, and Goodness.

Their Hearts were open.

The Garden of Eden was now, Here, within them, and all about them!

He breathed. “Lupe, what kind of men do this? Rape a daughter right in front of her mother's own eyes. They did this to my mother . . . again and again.” His eyes flowed with tears. “Didn't they have mothers and sisters of their own?”

“They weren't men,” said Lupe, “they were lost souls, Salvador.”

He nodded. “Yes, you're right,” he said, the tears still flowing from his eyes. “They weren't men. This is the same thing that my mother says, too, and then . . . she forgives them. Oh, Lupe, we must take good care of our love. You are my wife, Lupe,
mi esposa
!” he added.

“I am,” said Lupe, “and you are
mi esposo.
”

He breathed. “I love you, Lupe!”

“And I love you,” she said back to him.

They took each other in their arms, and the breeze picked up and the huge branches of the Great Tree swayed, and Here was the face of Mary, the Mother of God, up in the tall limbs of the eucalyptus. And the leaves—which had taken on the form of Ten Thousand Angels for all the world to see who had the Heart to See, and all the world to Hear who had the Soul to Hear.

Once more a married couple, had stepped forward through the needle's eye, reclaiming Paradise at the base of the Holy Tree of Life,
la Vida.
And Lupe now got up and reached down, giving her husband a hand up, and they looked into each other's eyes, and they kissed softly, gently in a whole new way.

Going to their Moon automobile, Lupe had to help Salvador. He'd kicked so much that he'd hurt his right foot, the male side, and he was limping.

Driving home, they never said another word, and that night they made love like they'd never made love before. Slowly. Gently. Never tiring. Never doubting. Hour after hour. Eyes open, feeling only the most open, tender feelings of Heart and Soul.

NOW, IT FELT VERY DIFFERENT
for Lupe when she saw Salvador to the door each day. She hugged him and she kissed him, but that fear and desperation weren't here. No, now it was all right with her that he was going off to do his work and she was going to be alone. In fact, she was happy to see him go, so she could get things done by herself.

And so this morning Salvador left and Lupe began cleaning house, singing to herself and feeling very good, when she came across the can full of money under the sink. And suddenly like a lightning bolt, instead of getting frightened or angry this time, she saw everything so clearly, so differently. Why, they could put this can of money in a bank. That's what rich people did with their money. She didn't need to be afraid of money! Money was just paper, as Salvador had so well told her.

Lupe became lightheaded with just the thought, because nobody in all
her familia
had ever gone inside of a bank, much less put money into one.

She felt so excited and clear-minded for the first time in weeks.

She couldn't wait for Salvador to get home, so she could tell him.

That evening after dinner, Lupe looked across the table at Salvador and said, “
Querido,
today when I was cleaning house, I came across your—I mean, our can of money and—no, no, don't get upset. This isn't bad. This is good,” she said, smiling with
gusto.
“And I figured out what we can do with it, so I don't feel scared when you go out and I'm left alone.”

“What?” he said, seeing her joy, but still feeling apprehensive.

“Salvador,” she said excitedly, “we can put it in the bank.”

“The bank?” he said.

“Yes,” she said, “just like rich—I mean, people with money—do.”

And she stopped, expecting Salvador to be thrilled with her idea, but instead he now leaped up from the table, pacing the floor and saying that no, no, no, he was totally against this bank idea!

But in the last few weeks Lupe had gotten pretty tough, so she didn't back off. No, she now closed her eyes, so she wouldn't have to see his raging face, and spoke calmly, explaining to him in a slow, steady, reasonable way that he was gone a lot of the time and so she didn't feel safe being alone with all this money in their home.

“Salvador,” she said finally, “you've worked hard for this money and I

don't want to see us losing it. Remember,” she added, opening her eyes, “houses do get robbed. And banks are safe.”

Hearing this last part, Salvador sat back down. “Okay, Lupe,” he said very quietly, “you've convinced me, but now Lupe, I'm forced to tell you something that I'd hoped to not ever have to tell you in all my life.”

Lupe closed her eyes again. “What is it?” she asked, wondering what could possibly be worse than his gambling and liquor making. Was he a murderer, too? Did he kill people for hire also?

“Lupe,” he said, feeling so ashamed that he could hardly speak, “I don't know how to ... to read. So I can't go to any bank,” he continued, “because they, they have papers for you to ... to read.” He was crying, shaking, looking sick—he was so upset.

“And this is it, Salvador?” asked Lupe, looking at him with complete astonishment. “This is what you were hoping to never have to tell me in all your life?”

Salvador nodded. “Yes,” he said, with tears streaming down his face. “Because you see, for you to be mad at me, or to hate me, well, that I can handle, but if you were ever—” He couldn't speak. He couldn't say it. And tears continued pouring down his face. “—ever to be ashamed of me, I couldn't live, Lupe.”

Looking at him, seeing this powerful man sitting before her, being so scared and child-like and vulnerable, Lupe's whole heart went out to him. “How can I ever be ashamed of you, Salvador,” she said. “You are a fine, hardworking, responsible man. Yes, I've been, well, mad at you, this is true, but not blind. You're a wonderful man, and a good husband, and I'm proud to be your wife, Salvador.”

“Oh, Lupe! Lupe!” he said. “Truly, you mean what you say?”

“Yes, of course,” she said.

“These words are MUSIC to my EARS!” he shouted to the Heavens.

She swallowed. She, too, was all choked up. “But tell me one thing,” she said, “why didn't your mother teach you how to read? She's always reading the Bible.”

Salvador took a big breath and dried his eyes. “She tried, Lupe,” he said, sitting down next to her, “but, well, for some reason, I just couldn't learn how to do it. And she explained to me that many people—from the Indian side of our family—were never able to learn to read. And these weren't the dumbest people in our family, either. Many times our nonreaders could well, see, you know, like a blind person, with special eyes from the heart, seeing things that all others can never see. Like my brother Jose,

the Great, couldn't read, but oh, he could fly down the mountainside with his eyes closed and he could talk to the Clouds, the Sky, the Trees, All of Creation! I'm sorry, Lupe, I never wanted to be an embarrassment to . . . to you,” he added, and tears streamed down his face from his eyes once again.

“Salvador!” said Lupe, taking him in her arms. “You can never be an embarrassment to me. You are
mi esposo.
And last week, when you loaned all that money to my brother for his truck, I could see you are a good-hearted, generous man, Salvador.”

“Oh, Lupe! Lupe! I always wanted to tell you before we married that I couldn't read and I was a bootlegger, but, I was afraid of losing you, and I love you SO MUCH! Ever since the first day I saw you, you Are my LIFE! The ANGEL of my DREAMS!”

They drew close and they were kissing, gently, softly, cautiously, then they were making love once again and it was . . . Holy, indeed, a married couple, visiting Heaven.

THE NEXT DAY
they drove over to Corona to take a barrel to Luisa so she could keep selling whiskey by the pint, and then they went to the bank in the Anglo side of town and Lupe did the paperwork so they could deposit $540 in cash, all their money in the world!

The date was October 20,1929, days before the Stock Market Crash of Wall Street.

But of course, they knew nothing of this, not even when the Crash happened and people jumped out of windows in New York City.

They didn't read the newspapers or listen to the news on the radio. They were
gente
from the
barrio.

Salvador watched Lupe as she filled out the forms on the big, wide desk of the banker, and he felt so proud of her! She could read, and she could write! Both in English and in Spanish! He listened to her pen sing as it scratched over the papers, making such beautiful, intriguing designs! Oh, his wife, Lupe, wasn't just beautiful, but educated, too! She'd almost finished the sixth grade, she'd told him.

They walked out of the bank, feeling ten feet tall! They'd really done it. Together they'd gone to a place where Salvador would have never dreamed of going.

Returning to Luisa's house, Salvador made the mistake so many young couples make when they want to share their happiness with the rest of their family. He couldn't stop bragging about Lupe, his beautiful, educated wife, so much so that Luisa finally felt violated.

For what Salvador was really saying, in Luisa's opinion, was that before Lupe they'd been nothing but a bunch of uneducated Indians
sin razón.

Then to make things even worse, Salvador left Lupe with Luisa, and he took off with Epitacio. He and Epitacio were going to go into the hills and dig up a couple of barrels that Salvador had buried in a dry riverbed and deliver them to Riverside. And Riverside was only partially Salvador's territory, so he had to be very careful not to cross over the line and end up in a gun battle. After all, that damn
Filipino
and
Italiano
were still giving him trouble.